#[ i went through my tracker the other day and was really specific with what's in there. ]

[iniziare]

Can I just say, I'm silly for not ever having used RPThreadTracker's 'Random Thread Generator' function sooner? I even put my 'owed starters' in this (and I go back, and edit in the respective IDs in after I've posted them), and I keep clicking until one pops up, because otherwise I'm allowing myself way too much 'choice', but said choice makes it that I'm wasting way too much time trying to choose. Have I written this much consistently any time in the last year? Nope. Is it also partly because of Dorian? Probably, but I'm having such a good time. My mood hasn't been the best today, but I'm reconnecting with this man, and his opinions, and views, and how those play into his dynamics, and— it's like... I somehow shifted my perspective of 'writing' so very slightly without realizing it through this tiniest change, and it's having a massive effect. I'm having fun writing, so much so that I'm staying up to write more of these starters, because I want t. Hello serotonin.

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

WIP Wednesday - April 17th, 2024.

Preview of Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader)

A/N: Despite the awful messages I have been getting lately, berating me for 'not finishing things' - I want to start doing WIP Wednesday regularly. Sometimes the things I post will not be completed and posted on my other blog. That is normal. Sometimes ideas are abandoned in favour of other ideas. Sometimes things go unfinished for any number of reasons. I have a really good feeling about this fic - it's an idea that I have had in my head since I saw Season 5 of TWD for the first time, and I have been wanting to write this fic for years. Fics like this are usually bound to be finished by me purely out of dedication to an idea I have had for years.

If you want to see the full fic when it comes out, you can follow my writing blog @sundrop-writes where it will be posted.

Warnings: I don't think there's really any warnings for this small section? The term they/them is used, but I didn't want it to be used specifically for the reader, I wanted it to be ambiguous that it could be talking about the larger group or the reader (so that people with she/her or he/him pronouns can also apply themselves to this dialogue). There are typical TWD warnings - mentions of death, spoilers for the show up through Season 4 if you're watching it for the first time. Use of Y/N because I am an old school girl, and idk - I think that's it for this section?

...

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth. 

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done. 

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’. 

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt. 

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning? 

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently. 

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism. 

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you. 

“Here.” He grunted at her. 

Beth smiled at him. 

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time. 

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there. 

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind. 

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it. 

For good luck. 

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead. 

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it. 

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him. 

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her. 

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed. 

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer. 

He didn’t give her one. 

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.” 

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.” 

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject. 

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again. 

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories. 

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

[sendmyresignation]

hey! months later I am still benefiting from your mcr metal primer, and I’ve been listening to more metal to figure out what genres I enjoy (spent a lot of time with black metal and metalcore this winter).

I wondered if you had recommendations for newsletters, podcasts, zines, or any other things you use to discover new (either recent releases or just new to you) metal bands/music?

hi!! thank you so much, i'm glad your getting some mileage out of the metal primer, that's what i'd always hoped it'd do so its really nice to hear :)

but yes, staying informed. there's a lot of resources out there- with metal you are really lucky considering a ton of stuff is archived (anytime i think about the metal archives i just feel sooo incredibly grateful after having to track down punk diy shit for months) and people are really invested in providing exhaustive lists and things! personally, i use shreddit almost exclusively (r/metal subreddit). they have a discord server that's a little less. well, reddit. than the page itself, as well as a release tracker, so it's pretty easy for me to know what's been released. i'll also check heavy blog is heavy, no clean singing, angrymetalguy (if they give an album a bad review, i'll probably love it haha!), and sometimes sarah from Smoulder does bangertv videos like cassette cult that i always check out.

as far as new to me, there's a ton of stuff out there. i use rym a lot, if you find a particularly good user they've often got a handful of lists i can dig through forever. stuff like this (crazy extensive baltic extreme metal primer) can give me a ton of mileage. shreddit also has primers to dig through. i love ride into glory i've found some of my favorite bands there.

i also stay in the loop through my metal friends- a couple guys who went to college with me started a record label after they graduated (liminal dread productions!) and just plugging into the shit they're up to helps me discover smaller artists. i did a few reviews for one of their zines and got into Vicious Blade through that, which was really great!

these are really the main things i use- i know black metal has its own self-sustaining universe that i'm unfamiliar with and metalcore tends to overlap much more with punk (like i feel like i get a lot of that stuff from brooklyn vegan and the like these days) so i'm a bit unhelpful for those specifics unfortunately. hopefully this gave you a good starting point though!!

[orangetintedglasses]

( Anyway in honor of the dawn of spooky month approaching, have some info about Vampire!Vash and the rules of how vampires work in my brain. Unrelated to the Astarianon stuff but it's something I've had kicking around in the back of my mind for a while. I'm not claiming any of these as particularly original takes in the slightest, either; this is just how vampires worked in the lore I'm recycling because we worked on it too long to let it go to waste. )

General:

Everyone has a gene that essentially acts as a switch if they're turned into a vampire-- literally all humans have this line of code in the genetics. It's what gives them their powers, and no one really knows what they'll end up with until it happens (unless like, your family has a history with it and obviously has a lot of the same power, you're likely to inherit it)

You have to be dying to be turned. No exceptions.

There are a lot of classifications of vampires, here are the ones I remember off the top of my head-- - Trackers (able to drink from someone and sense them up to a certain distance) - Tanks (beef. stronk. big appetite) - Dawnwalkers (don't burn in sunlight but get little other boons, seen as lesser by other vampires) - 'Red' (a genetic mutation thought to be completely culled due to an insatiable appetite, insane strength and aggressive tendencies. it was not culled.)

Certain lines of genetics were culled because of how dangerous they were-- think things like control over elements and anything that could do serious damage over time. This doesn't mean they're gone, but modern day vampires know better than to speak up if they get an ability like this

'Makers' have an innate control over anyone they sire, obviously. It's a tactic to ensure the newbie vampires don't all just go rabid and kill people to feed their new hunger-- this hasn't stopped makers from abandoning sired, though, so it ain't perfect

All vampires have the ability to glamour their prey. It helps make it hurt less (peaceful) or helps make them malleable (bad). Dawnwalkers are suspectible to another vampire's glamour

There's a council, you have to register new vampires and their powers, etc, I don't wanna go into vampire politics

Modern day has a lot of vampire-friendly spaces. Bars, clubs, a lot of restaurants and other faculties will stay open a lot later to accommodate, there are even specific vampire dentists and doctors that don't see humans at all... people even donate their blood to banks specifically for feeding vampires. Some bars even have feeding zones with willing human participants-- though the rules are strict in these places.

Vash specifically:

Vash, Nai and Tesla specifically are part of a line of progenitor vampires. Their genetic 'switch' can be found in a vast amount of the population thanks to some breeding quirks and passing stuff down

They're also more powerful than any vampire that came after them with some exceptions. They have a modicum of control over all vampires, as well, exerting the same sort of 'maker's command' that a sire has over their sired, though powerful-enough vampires can resist it with some effort

Tesla was staked after about 500 years, living in 'harmony' with the humans for only about 200 before it happened. Vash and Nai went into hiding after. Vash eventually decides to try and live among the humans again

His eyes are a very unnatural bright blue, so he wears special glasses to dull the color (obviously)

Vash's skin has a tan look to it compared to Nai's porcelain skin due to how many times he's been discovered and shoved out into the sunlight to try and burn him alive. Also many scars, because healing factor - proper blood amount to burn through it = improper healing and gnarly-ass scars

Obviously the boy prefers to feed off of animals, if at all. In more modern times, he'll drink from purchased blood bags if he needs to. He hates feeding off of live folks now

I like to think the Dawnwalker genetic trait comes specifically from Vash

[zoeology31]

Jhoan Durán #CleatWatch, 2024 Edition

The tracker returns for a second straight year after a delayed start due to the oblique strain, because Duran is still nice to look at and his cleats are still fire. Post is updated with every appearance and I've been adding reference pictures as they become available. This has taken on the vibes of the orchestra on the Titanic but I am nothing if not committed to the bit.

(2023 edition here)

(All image credit once again to the Twins photography team on gettyimages)

Duran continues to use the same model cleat he's used his entire major league career, the Nike Alpha Huarache Elite 3 Mid, according to the very helpful website whatproswear.com. The Nike Huarache line is very popular among baseball players, and Duran in particular seems to prefer the mid-height model with its high ankle strap.

As I noted last year, players seem to use older or backup gear during spring training before switching to their new custom stuff when the season starts. Poring through photos from Duran's abbreviated spring training, I noticed the northwoods and DR flag cleats from last year, plus the red palm tree cleats seen above, which is probably a spring training-specific design.

4/30/24: Duran's road choice this year is an updated edition of his bicolor cleats but with the colors flipped, navy on the left and red on the right. We'll call them bicolor 2.0. Featuring "Durantula" written across both straps, his logo on the right ankle, his #59 on the left ankle, "God" written on the right toe, and the grayscale portrait on the left toe. He wears these with both the away navy and gray pinstripe uniforms.

The artist Duran works with posts some nice closeup pictures of the shoes themselves on Instagram, so that'll do for now in lieu of any good action shots.

Seen on: 4/30, 5/10, 5/17, 5/19, 5/22, 6/2, 6/8, 6/9, 6/21, 6/26, 6/28, 6/30, 7/8, 7/10, 7/13, 7/14, 7/31, 8/5, 8/15, 8/16, 8/18, 9/2, 9/5, 9/7, 9/17, 9/18, 9/20

(Detail on the bicolor 2.0 cleats)

5/3/24: My only complaint about Duran's original flamethrower cleats were that they weren't custom enough, and man did he deliver this year with the flamethrower 2.0. This year he wears them with the home white, home navy, and cream Twin Cities uniforms. The red-yellow flame gradient on the toes is back, as is the solid red heel, but the negative space in between is now black with white sparkles to represent the crowd's phone flashlights during his walkout entrance.

The really fun part is the velocities of his five fastest pitches from last year: "104.4mph" on the left heel, "104.5mph" and "104.8mph" on the right, and "104.6mph" on each ankle strap. Like, what a flex. I love it.

Seen on: 5/3, 5/4, 5/6, 5/8, 5/24, 5/25, 5/27, 5/28, 5/30, 6/12, 6/14*, 6/18, 6/19, 7/2, 7/23, 9/25

(Detail on the flamethrower 2.0 cleats)

5/12/24: Custom Mother's Day cleats! Most players sport custom pink gear in addition to the modified caps each Mother's Day. Duran went with solid hot pink cleats with red and navy flower patterns, and six different women's names in light pink script on the heels and ankle straps. Wife, presumably mother, and other relatives and/or in-laws, probably?

That's all for now, though Do-Hyoung Park of MLB.com literally just wrote a piece on the flamethrower 2.0 cleats, which motivated me to get this writeup out. He also mentions custom cleats for the City Connects (revealed June 10th, debuting June 14th, as announced by the Twins), which is 👀. More to come!

6/14/24: As I was hoping, Duran pitched on City Connect debut night, though he had his flamethrower 2.0 cleats here. Lots of Twins players had custom cleats tonight, including Correa, SWR, and Buxton, but probably not everyone's have come in yet.

6/16/24: Custom Father's Day cleats, paired with the City Connects. These are solid light blue with baseball-themed graphic patterns: baseballs, gloves, hot dogs, popcorn, and "Dad" with heart outlines. Like the Mother's Day cleats, there are seven men's names written on them, this time in white on the outer front part. Brother, presumably father, and other friends/relatives?

Duran's kids also threw out the first pitch to him in the most adorable ceremonial first pitch I've ever seen.

7/7/24: New cleats! I'll call these the cherry bomb cleats because they're all-red, there's fire, and it's that time of year. The white Nike logo across the ankle strap has flame effects, the white inside swoosh logo has a paint drip effect, and his #59 is in white on the heel. Duran's worn them with the cream Twin Cities alts, the home navy, and the home white, so they seem to be a straight replacement for the flamethrower 2.0's.

Seen on: 7/7, 7/24, 8/3, 8/9, 8/14, 8/24, 8/25, 8/27, 9/1, 9/11

7/20/24: We have the City Connect cleats! These dropped on Instagram on June 20th, a month before Duran actually pitched in another City Connect game. They're another entry in Duran's fashionable asymmetry collection, with a yellow base and a two-toned blue ankle strap and heel segment reminiscent of a sky-water horizon line.

The left cleat has two-toned blue flames rising along both sides, with "10,000 Lakes" in white on the outside. The right cleat has a detailed drawing of Goku in Super Saiyan Blue mode on the outside, because many baseball players are massive weebs. I mean, hey, Carlos Estevez already does the Kamehameha pose after every save, so why not Goku shoes for Duran.

Seen on: 7/20, 8/30

9/17/24: Duran wore his earrings while pitching for what I believe is the first and only time. Like many players, Duran wears consistent everyday jewelry, in his case a chain and some nice diamond stud earrings. Unlike most players, though, he never wears it in-game, only during practice and in the dugout/bullpen. I always wondered how the logistics of that worked, like does he put his earrings in his pocket before warming up?

9/26/24: After going back to the flamethrower 2.0 cleats for his prior appearance on the homestand, Duran's last outing of 2024 featured brand new cleats, paired with the cream Twin Cities alts. They're all-cream with a black tongue and red laces, easily his least customized regular season cleats since 2022. The cream soda cleats do keep with Duran's overall trend of simpler designs for his late-season gear.

Bonus: Also dropped on Instagram mid-season are closeups of several of last year's cleats, including the first gen flamethrower and bicolor, as well as Mother's Day and Father's Day cleats that we did not see in a game last year.

[pipermca]

Writing Year in Review - 2022

On the one hand, I really like doing "year in review" posts and musings. It gives you a chance to look back on what you've accomplished, and lets you prepare yourself for what you want to do in the year head. On the other hand, if your accomplishments didn't measure up to whatever yardstick you're using, it can be a disappointing and demoralizing experience.

This year was, in my opinion, a rather lackluster year for writing for me. It's definitely not for a lack of ideas or interest – if anything, my WIP folder and ideas list are filled with all sorts of stories that I really want to finish. What has been lacking is the time, energy and motivation to apply butt to seat and get some writing done.

That's not the only thing I "failed" at – I came nowhere near my reading goal of 24 books. But there was a book I finished in the summer that had bogged me down for years and I was determined to finish it, which I did! And I'm working my way through The Expanse series by checking the books out of the library. (I'm about 75% done with the series!) I think I'll be scaling my reading goal back to 12 books again this year, so that I can feel pleased when I blow past it. 😅

However, I am trying to be kind to myself, as there were a lot of competing priorities and distractions. I struggled with anxiety of a whole variety of things. I buried myself in video games (specifically grabbing some titles recommended by others), and the new WoW expansion came out in November which has sucked up a lot of my time in December. And since the pandemic is over now (huge, massive /sarcasm tag on that) we spent time travelling: first heading west to see Spouse's family, and then driving east to visit my family.

This summer I got to hug my parents for the first time in three years.

Anyway, with all that happening, I am happy with what I did get done. December was a complete bust (see previous bit about WoW: Dragonflight coming out) in that I only wrote 735 words, but I also worked on the photocomic I posted in December.

In 2022 I posted 10 works to AO3, for a total of 47,609 words. A lot of that was either zine pieces that I could finally publish, or comic scripts. I also wrote 84,544 words. A chunk of that was for the IDW2 worldbuilding reviews (which I really have to get back to), and for a WIP that I haven't started posting yet.

Most months I didn't hit that 10,000 word threshold I have for myself, but that's ok. For the most part I was still writing consistently, even if the output wasn't quite as high as I would have liked. Looking at my writing tracker, you can also see the slow trend downwards in word count per week... Not great, but understandable.

 When I did get some writing done, my words per hour were still rather consistent. Last year I averaged 500-600wph, while this year it's more like 600-800wph. Not bad! I just need to carve out more time to do that writing in my day. 💗

And speaking of making time to write, here's another graph where you can see the slow erosion of the time I spent writing. There was a big burst in September (as I think that's when my muse really wanted to work on that smutty story with Prowl) but otherwise I've been spending less and less time writing as the year went on.

As for the concrete goals I set for myself in 2022, I didn't do terribly. I originally posted these in order of priority.

Finish Must Like Cats Yes! Done!

Finish Sun and Moon (working title) Haha no, but still working on it

Apply for two zines (if something catches my eye) Mmm, I applied for one*. So, 50%.

Write two comic scripts for practice I wrote one, so again, 50%.

Finish The King and the Bounty Hunter Nope.

Start By Fire and Flame (working title) Hahhaa no.

*No word on if this zine is getting off the ground, and I'm not holding my breath at this point.

In coming up with priorities for this year, I want to make sure they're obtainable, and focused on getting stuff done. (sigh) So here's this year's list:

Finish Sun and Moon (working title)

Finish one Sparkr story (any of my bunnies or WIPs!)

Write two comic scripts for practice

Make more progress in IDW2 reviews

Finish The King and the Bounty Hunter

Also, one of my "maintenance" goals is to repost the stories I pulled down. I have a couple of story compilations, and the fact that they're in compilations have caused me some issues (for example, it's difficult to link to a specific chapter in some cases, and I can't include a single chapter in a series.) So I'm going to be revising and reposting those stories in 2023.

Behind the cut is the first sentence of each of the stories I posted, and the month it was posted in. I hope everyone has a lovely 2023.

January. Armed. We're in a medical bay. (This is a comic script; you can view the comic here.)

March. Must Like Cats. Sideswipe woke slowly, rising out of recharge one system at a time.

April. Private Parts. A heavy arm fell across Blast Off's shoulders.

May. An Interview with the Award-Winning Engraving Artist Sunstreaker of Kaon. At first glance, the studio looks empty, almost abandoned.

June. The Wild Hunt. Hot Rod couldn't remember when he'd first heard about the Wild Hunt.

July. Time Together. Emperor Starscream watched as Skywarp bounced on the tips of his pedes, his wings flicking with every bounce.

August. Quiet Now. Hound felt like the unluckiest bot in the galaxy.

October. How the Praxians Lost Their Wings. "Kup, tell Dinobots a story."

November. VIP. "In conclusion, this operation should result in an estimated 63% reduction in the Decepticons' offensive ability, and provide us with an additional two months in which we can work with our human allies to fortify our defenses."

December. Mission Creep. Jazz is driving in alt mode. (Another comic script; you can view the comic here.

[ginwalt]

uhh could I request a wanda x reader doing something really reckless (like stealing the car for a 3 am drive) and Carol and Nat (who are like their mother figures - and also are in a relationship) scolding them for it!!

ps: I don't know if scolding is even a word but I guess you know what I mean hahahah

a/n: I am absolutely in love with this prompt and I had a lot of fun writing it :) hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none just some cursing and some underage drinking.

Word Count: 2,680

--

It was around 3:30 in the morning when you felt someone nudge your shoulder. Groaning, you pulled your blanket further over your head.

"Leave me alone," you grumbled under your breath.

It was only when a strand of red magic surrounded the edge of the blanket and jerked it off your body, did you awaken. You gasped at the sudden assault of cold air and shot up. Wanda stood over you in a Black Sabbath hoodie and ripped jeans with a far too pleased smirk on her face.

"What the hell, Wanda?" You hissed, rubbing your bleary eyes.

"Put some clothes on; I want to show you something."

"The sun isn't rising for another 2 hours, Wan. I want to go back to bed," you complained, grasping for the blanket once more.

Wanda pulled the blanket fully off your shared bed and looked at you pleadingly, "Come on, please? I promise it will be worth it," her eyes were wide as she looked at you hopefully. At this time of night- or morning, you supposed - her accent was thicker than it would be during the day. You cursed your weak resolve and slunk out of bed.

"Fine, but I'm stealing one of your hoodies," you grumbled.

She chuckled, "You are already hoarding at least half of them," she pointed out as you stepped out of your pajama pants. You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled on black yoga pants and an Iron Maiden sweatshirt you had been keeping on your side of the closet for at least a month now. Wanda gasped and slapped your arm lightly, "I have been looking for that everywhere, Y/n. I thought I lost it!"

"Your hoodies are comfier," you reasoned with a shrug. "Anyways, how are we supposed to get past mother hen one and two?" You gestured towards the direction of Natasha and Carol's room.

Wanda pondered this for a moment, "Just be fast and quiet, you go out and wait in the car, and I will grab the drinks."

You raised an eyebrow, "Natasha's a world-class assassin, and Carol wakes up whenever Nat does; this won't work. Also, we're going to drink at 3 in the morning?"

Wanda huffed, "It will be fine. You worry too much, Y/n. Plus, when have we ever drank irresponsibly?"

Narrowing your eyes, you stuffed your hands in your pockets, "Do you really want me to answer that."

Wanda pushed you towards the door, "Go outside and wait in the car." You snickered and carefully opened the bedroom door, wincing when the hinges squealed slightly. It wasn't a matter of not being caught as much as it was a matter of being long gone before Natasha and Carol decided to go after them. Regardless of how sneaky they thought they were being, Natasha- if not both her and Carol - was bound to hear them. Ever so carefully, you wedged the front door open and slipped through it.

You had moved in with Carol, Nat, and Wanda a year into your relationship with her. Having graduated college with a nearly nonexistent relationship with your parents, you needed a place to live. Your girlfriend and the women who practically made sure you didn't starve throughout college seemed like the most reasonable choice. You had met Wanda on campus, and it had taken three weeks of being her friend until you realized she was an Avenger. Shortly after that, Wanda introduced you to the rest of her team. At first, your only interaction with the married couple was them giving you the "shovel talk" when Wanda first introduced you as her girlfriend. However, after working with them as a hacker for SHIELD, they quickly took you under their wing as well.

Smiling slightly at the memory, you opened the passenger door to Natasha's black Corvette Stingray. It took all of three minutes for Wanda to come running out the door, a bottle of apple cinnamon whiskey in hand. She threw the door open and shoved the bottle into your hand before pushing the key into the ignition and gunning it down the street. Your eyes bugged as your fumbled to get your seatbelt fastened. You clutched at your chest as the two of you went 45 in a neighborhood.

"Wanda, what the fuck!" you yelped, gripping the neck of the whiskey bottle tightly.

"I'm sorry, I heard their door open, and I panicked!" She cried, grasping blindly for her seatbelt. The two of you slowed down slightly as you gained distance from the house.

"They're totally going to notice the whiskey's gone, Wan. We're both 19; we can't legally drink yet!"

"Relax, Y/n they won't notice one drink is missing out of a whole cabinet filled with alcohol," Wanda reasoned, turning onto a gravel road.

You raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend, "How many times do I have to point out that Nat is the world's top assassin and Carol was trained by both the US military and the Kree?"

"I promise it will be worth it," Wanda insisted, grabbing your hand from across the middle console. You sighed and leaned down to kiss the top of her hand.

"You're lucky I love you."

Wanda grinned and shot a wink at you, "I know." With that, she pulled off the dirt road and into the middle of a grassy clearing. You unbuckled your seatbelt and reached down to grab the whiskey, which had rolled under the seat during your escape out of the neighborhood. Wanda stepped out of the car and went around the back to grab a large black and red checkered blanket. You followed her as she smoothed out the blanket atop the grass and pointed up at the sky. A small gasp escaped your lips as you saw streaks of light blaze across the sky.

"I didn't know there was going to be a meteor shower tonight," you whispered, eyes never leaving the sky. Wanda grinned and unscrewed the bottle. She took a hearty drink from it and passed it over to you.

"I was hoping to surprise you," she explained, laying down on the blanket.

You followed suit and took a large drink of your own. "Why did we need alcohol for this, exactly?"

The corner of Wanda's lips quirked upward as she turned her head to look at you. "Make it a bit more...colorful, I suppose. I considered whether edibles would be better, but Nat and Carol would definitely skin us alive when they found out about that."

You giggled; the apple cinnamon whiskey had settled in your stomach, warming your body against the early morning breeze. Your head felt fuzzier as you leaned over to place a kiss on Wanda's cheek. "This is perfect, Wan. Thank you." Wanda placed a cinnamon-flavored kiss on the corner of your mouth. "How much do you want to bet Wanda and Carol are waiting by the door for us right now?"

Your girlfriend let out a drunken laugh and set the now half-empty bottle aside. "10 dollars that they left the house to find us."

"You're on." The two of you dissolved into hysterical giggles that lasted so long your stomach started to cramp. The blazes of white-hot light lit up the sky as your vision turned blissfully hazy. Clumsily, you crawled towards Wanda and placed your head atop her stomach. "Mmm, you're warm," you hummed, a goofy smile cracking through your lips. The witch placed her hands against the side of your head and started stroking them through the locks of your hair.

Just as your eyes started to slip shut at the attention, your felt her hands halt. "Y/n?" You let out a quiet 'mhm' in response. "How're we gonna get home?" Her voice was slurred and thick with her Sokovian accent.

Your eyes snapped open, and you shot up. "Shit, we can walk, maybe?" Wanda gave you a blank look in response as she gestured to the expanse of nothingness around you. You sighed, "We have to call Carol and Nat."

Wanda groaned and covered her face with her hands. Her chipped black nails scrubbed at her eyes and cheeks, leaving red lines all over her face. "Do we have to?"

"Well, we can't drive Wanda, and by the time we're sober enough, it'll be nearly 7:30!"

"They're going to kill us," she complained, burying her face in her hoodie. "Just get it over with."

You fished your phone from your pant pocket and hesitantly pressed Natasha's contact. The phone barely got through with its first ring before the older woman picked up.

"Where the hell did you two go?" her raspy voice was nearly brimming with anger. You almost dropped your phone at the venom lacing her words.

" 'M sorry, 'Tasha," you winced at the heavy slur in your words before continuing. "We thought it'd be fun."

You heard someone grab the phone, "Are you two drunk?" Carol demanded.

"No..." you trailed off pathetically. Wanda glared at you and lightly kicked your foot.

"Y/n try to say Natasha's full name, right now," you straightened slightly at Carol's military voice.

"N'tasha 'Manoff," your tongue felt too big for your mouth as you attempted to form the words. "...Okay, maybe a little bit."

"Where are you? We're coming to get you," Nat insisted. You heard footsteps from the other end of the line and someone pulling the hallway closet open.

"Wan, where are we?" you asked, glancing around the fields of overgrown grass and wheat.

Wanda winced and bit the tip of her finger, "Uhhh.."

"You don't know?" Natasha and Carol shouted. Wanda pursed her lips and looked down at her lap.

"I didn't have a specific route planned out beforehand," she admitted.

"Turn the location tracker in your phone settings on," Natasha ordered.

"Yes, ma'am," you both grumbled in unison, feeling akin to a scolded child.

"When we get there, you two better hope you have a better excuse than the ones we heard over the phone," Carol warned.

"You took my Corvette?" Natasha complained.

"It was either that or Carol's truck, and Wanda isn't used to driving stick yet," you insisted. "Her car's still in the shop from last month." A speeding car had rear-ended Wanda's car on the highway.

We will talk about this when we get there, do not touch the Corvette any more than you already have," with that, Natasha hung up.

"Well, apple cinnamon whiskey isn't a terrible last meal," you reasoned as Wanda folded the blanket and set it in the backseat.

"Y/n, we haven't eaten since dinner time. Whiskey is hardly a meal," Wanda grumbled, shutting the door.

"Babe, I'm trying to be optimistic."

"Captain Marvel and Black Widow are on their way to kick our asses into the moon," Wanda replied, leaning back against the Corvette. You sighed and rested your head against her shoulder. "Sorry this night was a bust," she mumbled, eyes staring down at her boots dejectedly.

You smiled and leaned in to press your lips against hers. Wrapping an arm around her waist, you pulled away and rested your forehead against hers. "This is one of the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me, Wanda. Thank you." Wanda grinned sheepishly and buried her face in your shoulder.

A few dreadful minutes later, you saw the headlights of Carol's truck speed down the gravel road. The truck lurched to a stop as the two superheroes jumped out of the car.

"Are you two alright?" Natasha demanded, half-running to the two of you.

"We're fine, I can protect myself, and Y/n was with me the whole time," Wanda reasoned. "We went out to watch a meteor shower, not go clubbing.

"I can protect myself just fine," you whined.

Carol raised an eyebrow, "Your hands were built for hacking and reading, not punching." You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. Wanda offered you a sympathetic smile but did not say anything to counter the older woman's claim. Rude.

"Wanda, get in the Corvette, Y/n get your ass in the truck," Natasha ordered. She was wearing a black leather jacket over her red silk pajama set. Carol was in basketball shorts and a tank top with a brown leather bomber jacket pulled over it. You quickly shuffled over to the truck and slid in.

Your foot nervously tapped against the floor of the car as you watched Carol grab the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and made her way over to the truck. Shutting the door, she set the bottle of whiskey on the open seat between you two and turned the keys in the ignition. As the pickup truck rumbled to life, she turned to face you. "Kid, you two nearly downed that bottle in a single night. What were you thinking?" You burrowed further into Wanda's sweatshirt as if to protect from her stern gaze.

"You're really mad at us, huh?" you mumbled, fidgeting with your hands.

Carol sighed and followed behind Natasha down the road, "You scared the shit out of us, kid. We didn't know where you had gone, why you left, plus it's nearly pitch black out here."

"But, we're adults just like you and Nat," you insisted weakly.

"You're still teenagers; we're in our 30's. Millions of things could have gone wrong; some creep could have taken you before Wanda could get to you, you could have crashed had you chosen to drive home, your phones could have died, or you could have gotten lost."

You shrunk further into your sweater, "Sorry..."

Carol sighed and looked over at you as she turned into the neighborhood. "Listen, kid. We really care about you two a lot. Nat and I have to resist the urge to duct tape you to the kitchen chairs to keep you two from leaving for missions. We know you can take care of yourselves, but a heads up in the future would be nice, and also more reasonable hours for your plans."

You grinned sheepishly, "Yeah, that seems fair."

Carol smiled and pulled into the driveway. Natasha and Wanda were waiting on the doorstep when you two got out. The latter looked thoroughly chastised as she burrowed her mouth and nose into her hoodie. When the four of you got inside, Natasha sighed and checked the clock on her phone.

"Well, we might as well watch a movie or something since it's nearly sunrise." You and Wanda settled on the couch, with Natasha to your left and Carol to Wanda's right acting as bookends. The assassin wrapped an arm around your shoulder, allowing you to rest your head in the crook of her neck. You saw Wanda lay her head in Carol's lap as the older woman pulled up Netflix. Natasha was idly threading her fingers through your hair, causing your already drunk and lethargic mind to grow hazier. Your eyes started to slip shut as you felt yourself being guided to lay your head in Nat's lap. You jerked slightly, attempting to fight the drowsiness from taking hold. Forcing your eyes open, you tried to sit up. However, the battle for consciousness was quickly lost when Nat started using her nails to gently massage your scalp.

--

"Carol," the assassin whispered to her wife. The blonde stopped her search for a good movie as she glanced over at Natasha.

"What is-" her question was quickly cut off by her wife quietly shushing her. Nat gestured down to the younger women currently lying in each of their laps. Carol glanced down to find Wanda's face hidden against the sleeve of her hoodie as she let out soft snores.

"Well, guess the movie idea's a bust," she whispered.

Natasha nodded, "You grab Wan, and I'll get Y/n."

Carefully, the heroes scooped the younger women into their arms and carried them to your shared bedroom. Natasha gently set you onto the bed beside your girlfriend and pulled the blanket- which was lying on the floor for whatever reason - to cover the two of you. Ever so cautiously, the couple crept out of the room.

[therantingfangirl]

Kinktober 2021 Day 20 - Sex Pollen with Hidan

Kinktober 2021 day 20 - Sex Pollen

Fandom: Naruto

Hidan x female reader

Word Count: 2k

Summary: There was something about your partner that was alluring, but he always managed to ruin it by opening his mouth. While on a simple mission to catch a thief, the two of you experience something that may just put that mouth of his to use.

Content Warning: smut, sex pollen, biting

My kinktober masterlist

Minors do not interact! If you do not have your age in your bio, or if your age is under 18, I will block you.

The mission that Leader-sama had sent you out on was a simple one: there was an asshole who was stupid enough to steal from the feudal lord of fire country. All you had to do was catch the thief and bring him back to the feudal lord. It should have only taken one day at the most.

“Three fucking days,” your partner for this particular mission growled out angrily. In a fit of anger, he kicked a metal trash can over. It bounced angrily down the sidewalk, clanging out with every smack against the pavement. “Three fucking days of this bullshit and we’re not even close to finding the son of a bitch.”

“Maybe because you spend more than half of our time spewing expletives and kicking over public property,” you suggested, lightly picking at your cuticles with your fingernail.

The man sent a glare in your direction. “Maybe if someone was a better tracker then I wouldn’t have to damage public property!”

“Oh, so now this is my fault?”

“Obviously!”

You crossed your arms tightly across your chest and huffed at him. You turned your back on him and started to walk in the direction the two of you had been headed towards before he had begun cursing at the sky.

“I’ll have you know that based on my contacts, we’re almost there.”

“Not your fucking contacts again!” he growled.

You rolled your eyes at his absolute nonsense. You forced one foot in front of the other, completely ignoring the loud tangent he went off on behind you. You were close, you could feel it. Your contacts had told you that he had been sighted outside a little village located just outside of fire country. And if there was one thing that you trusted, it was your contacts.

“They said that they’d be around here,” you told him, gesturing to the expanse of village around the two of you.

“Very specific,” he grunted.

You flashed him a rude gesture without a second thought. You glanced around the heavy-trafficked road. A large hand grabbed hold of the back of your Akatsuki cloak and turned you around. Your white-haired partner grabbed hold of the collar of your shirt and lifted you up until your face was only inches from his own. Your feet dangled in the air, not even your toes grazing the ground beneath. Hidan’s uniquely purple eyes bore down into your own.

“What the fuck?” you spit out. You weren’t one to curse often—usually using such expletives only when the time really called for them. Maybe he had started truly rubbing off on you.

“You think you can point that damn finger at me and get away with it?”

Oh, that.

“Who knew that you would be so sensitive,” you huffed in reply. His face was much too close to you. His features disgustingly too handsome. But then he’d open that damn mouth of his. You hated it.

You forced your gaze passed his shoulder. You couldn’t keep looking at him—not that close anyways. On the other side of the street, you could see all of the different people meandering through the shops. And then you saw him: your target.

“Hidan!” you barked out.

But he saw you as well. Dark eyes met yours. They drifted down your body and the body of your partner. They took in your cloaks before widening. He dug his hand into his pocket, rubbing against a bulge you could see in the pocket. And then he took off.

“Come on! He’ll get away!” you yelled, smacking the top of his shoulder.

Hidan dropped you onto the ground and his eyes narrowed in the direction that you pointed in. The two of you chased after him, your partner laughing just slightly under his breath—like the psychopath you had discovered he truly was.

You began to dive into your chakra, using the extra boost to your speed to run ahead of Hidan. Your fingertips fiddled at your side, your brain whirling with ideas. You had so many techniques you could use, but you weren’t one to take any casualties. You weren’t about to shoot out with deadly intent with so many innocents surrounding the three of you.

And then the two of you cornered him against a brick wall. Hidan swung his scythe around with another demented laugh. Your target pressed his back against the wall, his eyes narrowing considerably at the large man beside you. He had deduced him to be the bigger threat, completely dismissing your appearance entirely.

You growled quietly and shot forward, your fingers coming together to perform a set of familiar hand signs. Your target’s hands shot forward before you could summon the chakra to go along with the hand signs, tossing something at you from his pocket. A sheen of yellow powder drifted out from his hand and directly into your face. It poured into your mouth, flew right into your nostrils, and covered your eyes. You gasped out desperately, trying to clear the powder from your system. But it only flooded down your throat.

It scratched at the back of your neck and filled up your lungs. You coughed violently, scraping your hand across your face to wipe off the dust.

Coughing from your side alerted you to your partner suffering from the same predicament. And footsteps pounded away from the two of you, undoubtedly from your retreating target.

And then, all of a sudden, everything cleared up. Your mouth filled with your saliva, your eyes cleared up, and your airway was no longer constricted. You wiped at your eyes and glanced around the surrounding area, but your target was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, that’s just great,” you huffed out.

Hidan blinked rapidly, looking around where your target had been standing just a moment before. “Great. You fucking let him get away.”

“How is this my fault again?” you growled at him.

“What? Do you think it’s mine?”

You ignored him, brushing by him. Your shoulders brushed against each other and a shot of electricity flowed through your veins. The spot where he had touched tingled and every inch of your being focused in on that spot.

You had felt that before, but never so strongly.

You pushed down the feeling and dug your fingernails deep into the palms of your hands. You forced yourself to make your way down the road, asking a few villagers about your target to see if anyone saw where he ran off to, but no one had any clear answers.

It was dark before you finally suggested that you and Hidan find a place to stay for the night. He had seemed agitated—pissed off at you even—but relented and chose an inn for the two of you to stay in. But of course, they only had one room available.

You felt like you were in a shitty romance novel.

Thankfully, when you walked into your room, the two beds you had asked for were taking up the small space. You plopped down on the one farthest away from the door and immediately began to disrobe.

“What makes you think that you get the bed by the wall?” Hidan asked you.

"Maybe because you’re the one with the giant, scary scythe.”

“You’re the one with the disgustingly large chakra.”

“So?”

Hidan grunted loudly and pressed his face into the pillow on his own bed. It wasn’t often that you rendered him speechless-honestly, you thought that you were the only one who had actually done it before—but you always found great pleasure when you did.

You tossed your cloak down onto the edge of your bed and fell back against your covers. You shifted against the mattress, trying to get comfortable. But it was all too warm, your clothes too heavy. The room was dry and suffocating. You grunted and tugged off your shirt, leaving you in the bandaged bindings covering your chest and your pants. The heat was only increasing in the room and a sweat began to build on your brow.

“Damnit, do they even have air conditioning?” Hidan growled, sitting up on his bed. He ripped off his own cloak and pants, leaving him in a pair of dark undershorts.

You wiped the sweat off of your brow. You took a deep breath and slid your fingers into your pants. If he could take his off, then why couldn’t you? You tugged them off and tossed them to the ever-growing pile of clothes on the ground.

Even with the absence of most of your clothing, the heat was still overwhelming. An uncomfortable aching settled between your thighs, the added sensation only irritating you even more.

“Fuck,” Hidan grunted out.

“Would you shut up?” you hissed, turning to look at him.

He turned to face you, eyes narrowing down at your form. A soft sheen of sweat covered his bare torso. His underclothing was tight, a distinct bulge in the fabric giving you a detailed view of what was underneath.

You ripped your eyes away from his lower body and back to his face. His own gaze was no longer on your face, but drifting lower with every moment. You could almost feel the lingering looks, feel them trail down your stomach and over your most intimate parts.

“Eyes up.” You had meant to sound domineering and strong, forceful even. But your voice only came out in a quiet squeak.

A small smirk spread onto his face. His eyes dragged back up—actually obeying—but his focus fell on your bound breasts. His eyes were dilated, his lips pursed together in concentration. Your body responded to that look, an uncomfortable ache building in between the apex of your thighs.

His nostrils flared, as if he could scent your arousal. He pushed himself onto his feet and crossed the floor between your beds. You pushed yourself up into a seat position and ripped your gaze from his body.

Hidan’s fingers slid around your throat and tugged at it, forcing you to look back up at him. You swallowed thickly. His damned tongue ran across his lips, the tip of it tracing over the delicate lines of his full mouth.

And then his lips were pressed against your own. His weight settled over on top of you, and your lips couldn’t keep up with his—no matter how much you wanted them to. He slid his hands down to your wrists and pinned them up on the headboard behind you. He held them there with one hand while his other tugged your legs around his waist. You crossed your ankles behind his back, pressing your heels deep into the strong muscles there. You pushed him flush against yourself, his hardened length pressing up against your underwear.

You moaned greedily against his lips, your fingers digging into his wrists. You tugged roughly at his hair, mussing up the strands you had seen him carefully brush into place more times than you could count. His kisses ignited something within you, a flame that lit within your belly and set you on fire. Your core ached at his touch, begging for him to just have his way with you.

Hidan ripped his lips from yours and nipped at the crook of your neck. He let go of your wrists and his hands began to work at the bindings around your chest. He ripped them down the middle without a second thought and threw them to the side. You arched into his touch, presenting your breasts to the close proximity of his face.

He chuckled darkly and sucked a hardened nipple deep into his mouth. He stroked against the sides of your underwear before hooking his fingertips into the waistband and tugging them eagerly down the length of your legs.

You grabbed hold of his underclothes and tugged them off quickly. His cock sprung free, large and veiny and guaranteed to destroy you. You moaned eagerly at the sight, bucking your hips up at him and rubbing your lower half against him.

He took hold of his own length, rubbing the tip of himself lightly against your slit. His every touch sent hot pleasure down your spine, so intense that you thought that you would cum already.

If you had thought that he’d be this good, you would’ve tugged off the few articles of clothing he wore long ago.

You pressed your head back against the pillow, whimpering out his name. “Please, just fuck me already!”

He grunted quietly and thrust deeply inside of you. He filled parts of your body that you had never even known existed. You arched your back at the feeling, digging your nails into his back. His name was already a mantra on your lips, as if he was your life line and you were in deep danger of fading away completely.

He grunted out your name and buried his face in your neck. His teeth dug into your sensitive skin, his hips dragging in and out of you in a brutal pace. Normally, you would tell him to slow down. Normally, you would tell him to be gentle.

But it felt too good. You were too wet. The noises of his cock entering you filled the tiny room, echoing out and only increasing the pleasure you were feeling. “Please!” you gasped out, toes curling against your blankets.

“Fuck!” he gasped, burying his face in the spot between your breasts. “You’re so damn tight!”

“J-just for you,” you whimpered out. You squeezed your eyes shut, reveling in the feelings that his body wrenched out of you.

“I’m going to stretch you out so good,” he babbled. “So thoroughly. You’ll be perfect for me, and me only.”

“Please do,” you whimpered out. You bucked your hips forcefully against his, taking in every ounce of pleasure his body could.

It was all becoming too much, too quickly. You wanted it to last, wanted to feel him stretch out your aching cunt until it couldn’t stretch any further. But the coil in your stomach was overwhelming. The pleasure spreading down your spine spreading and tightening. And then it was all coming to a head and snapping in two. You were bucking up at him, moaning out until you were sure that your throat would go raw.

And as you came down from the pleasure of it all, you realized that he had emptied out inside of you, a quiet groan falling against your skin.

Which meant that Hidan came inside of you.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned out.

He nodded weakly before his body tensed against yours. He sat up quickly, his cock exiting your sore body. He ripped away from you, throwing himself onto the other bed. “Fuck. What the hell was that?”

You blinked slowly down at your naked body—at the white liquid spilling out from your cunt. You pushed yourself up from the bed and immediately headed into the bathroom, trying to push back the guilt that threatened to consume you.

You took a deep breath and stared at yourself in the mirror. Your face was glistening with sweat, drops of blood spotting your neck. Indentions of Hidan’s teeth stood out against your skin, showing exactly what he had done to you.

You brushed your fingertips against the indentions slowly. And then a slow smile fell on your lips. You had to admit, as long as Hidan kept his damn mouth shut, he really could be alluring. And after the orgasm he had given you, there was no way you could even conjure a complaint. Not with his cum dripping down your thigh and the memory of his cock thrusting in and out of you.

You even thought, just briefly, that maybe you wouldn’t mind falling back into that bed with him, if even just one more time.

[thetruestudent]

The Student - Her True Story

In Her Own Words

It's been a decade since The Student drama exploded in the royal fandom so here is my write-up of what lead up to the drama, how it unfolded and the aftermath.

Thanks @duchessanon for encouraging me to do this!

This is much longer than anticipated so I've included a cut. I know it's a lot to read but there's a juicy reveal that I've never shared before within!

Before I was even aware of this fandom, I was a casual royal watcher. My granny has loved Diana since I can remember and I would borrow her books about her in my teens. I also grew up watching satirical Canadian shows that would often poke fun at the royals although I didn't really understand a lot of it as a child. And then there was the general education on the royal family in school - you know, where we learned about Canada being a constitutional monarchy. Ahem.

In my teens and early 20s, I got into pop culture in general and would follow a lot of the drama that went on with the younger royals. Guy Pelly, Chinawhite, Club H, William e-mailing Britney, etc. I knew it all despite not being someone who watched the weddings, followed the tours here in Canada or kept up with thing like events like Trooping the Colour. My main source for this info was a Livejournal blog called ONTD - which is still running somehow!

One 2012 day, I happened to click into a royal post and saw a comment thread referencing TrueRoyals (now @heavyarethecrowns) and decided to check her out. I specifically noticed the one comment about being this blog being harsh on Kate's body which I didn't like and soon found out that the Kate content was way more vile and misogynistic than described. I left a few anons defending her and was written off as a "mini-midd". I wouldn't say I was a full blown Kate stan but I did think she was beautiful, loved her style and related to her as a fellow Tall Girl ™. Perhaps the attacks did feel a bit personal to me because of that but I hate seeing any woman spoken about in the way and always speak up when I see it (which I can back up, I'm on Real Housewives Reddit these days and get exhausted from defending morally objectionable women from misogynistic attacks).

I then decided it was time to shit stir. I was bored and had an idea that I knew would create drama. I have never admitted this to anyone (aside from duchessanon and one other blogger in private) but I created a secrets account called "royalfandomsecrets". I started out with a bunch of fake "secrets" with the goal of making Rachel and her ilk paranoid. I never crossed the line into anything mean-spirited, just calling out some of the hateful messages being spread. I'd also pick names to include at random, blogs I had never looked at before (including Kate stan accounts) but would find through reblogs, and say something innocuous enough that it would've made me laugh had it been said about me. Then the real secrets started pouring in and this is where it got interesting.

From what I remember, the secrets being sent in weren't that bad. I wouldn't post anything that could be considering bullying and nothing stands out in my mind as particularly harsh, aside from some of the posts coming in about Rachel. Now I wasn't stupid, I had installed an IP logger from the start because I had a feeling something was going to happen with these secrets and my instincts were proven correct when I noticed the most hateful secrets towards Rachel were coming from one IP. Her own.

Rachel was very open about where she lived. I don't know if she still is open about it but I'm not going to share where (and I don't even remember anyway). I was surprised by this. I remember on one occassion she even posted about a very old church in her town. I knew with certainty that these posts had to be coming from her because she sent in a message chastising me off anon that matched the same IP. With this documented, I attempted my first TrueRoyals takedown. I posted a screenshot from the IP tracker with the IP blocked out and, if I remember correctly, I believe I blocked out everything but her county. Rachel was furious about this and reported me to tumblr admin, getting me shutdown. I believed this to be unfair but, at the time, there was nothing I could do about it.

So I moved on and started sending her anons. Sometimes just dumb questions, sometimes spreading silly rumours like claiming one aesthetic tumblr belonged to Beatrice or describing my ~dream royal wedding dress~ (which sounded horrific btw, I was surprised she even shared it). That's when I realized she was responding to any and every anon I was sending in and then it clicked; I could have fun with this!

As you can see from the above ONTD link, it was rumoured that Harry was dating Mollie King. At the time, The Saturdays had a new single (30 Days) from their next album coming out so I sent in an anon saying that Harry and Mollie were friends who were not actually dating but were pretending to for mutually beneficial reasons - Mollie had a song/album to promote and Harry was trying to deflect from a real relationship with an unknown university student. To be honest, I didn't think this was my best work. I thought Rachel would shut it down like she did with the Beatrice tumblr (the girl's hairstyle pictured was the wrong shade of red apparently). At most, I thought she'd ask where I had heard this. I didn't except her to respond with, "I've heard this too."

I let her go on to her anons about this for a bit and watched the Harry stans lose their shit. One of the best moments, soon after this, happened when paparazzi tweeted or put out somewhere (I don't know how the Harry stans knew about this so quickly) that Harry had been spotted on Oxford's campus. The fandom collectively lost their minds for a few hours until the photos came out and it was just some poor ginger who probably didn't understand what was happening to him. I will always wonder if paps/journos were following some of these blogs for tips and went because of The Student rumour...

My biggest mistake here was not taking screenshots or documenting my plans with this in any way but, as I said, I didn't expect her to bite. When I decided to expose the truth behind this rumour, I knew she'd lie her way out of it because of this. Her loyal followers and K8 H8erz stuck with her but it had blown up within the general fandom with the mini-midds particularly enjoying the drama. I realized shortly after that I did have a comment exchange on ONTD about how I had been trolling Rachel with this rumour with one of the people from the original thread I linked, dated from before I revealed myself to tumblr, but enough time had passed and those who didn't want to believe me ignored it. I no longer have that screenshot either and deleted my LJ account, sadly, so I can't even attempt to find it.

A few more fakers were taken down after this, some with my involvement and some from my comrades who had the same sense of humour and (justified) mischief as I did. One who particularly stands out to me was one who claimed to be an incredibly young mother of one who was also pregnant with her second. She said she was married to a Lord and claimed that he, his family and all of the aristos hated Kate and used it to justify misogynstic comments about her. She made a mistake by mentioning that this husband was Jewish though. Fandom members searched for Jewish aristos and couldn't find any Lord that fit his age or description.

It seemed that being questioned on this was a bit too much for her because her "husband" logged in to her tumblr to announce they were moving to Canada because she was getting her Master's at McGill and she got a job as a cultural attaché in Ottawa and would be working with Charles and Camilla on their upcoming Canada tour. When I pointed out that McGill was a two-hour drive from Ottawa and that it seemed like an extreme choice to move with a newborn and a toddler, work full-time, commute four hours a day for McGill and squeeze in a royal tour somehow, she disappeared.

I ended up sticking around for a year or two more here and became friendly with some great girls along the way. One of my favourites told me that I killed the fantasy that exisited within the fandom... that there was this fun in believing maybe someone with connections to the royals may actually be posting here. The thing is, I think it's very possible someone with an actual connection was/is posting in this fandom (I mean, if Arthur Landon could find us...) but anyone in that position would never give personal info and reveal secrets as those blogs did. If anything, I think that keeps the fantasy even more ubiquitous. Royals! Aristos! Daily Mail contributors! They could be anywhere! They could be sending you an anon as you read this!

[delimeful]

the shapes in the silence (12)

warnings: dissociation, fighting, mild blood & injury, panic, another hopefully less bad cliffhanger

-

Puff woke up to a gentle hand down his back ridges, his hoard chattering above him, and an odd, high pitched note on the edge of his hearing.

His ears twitched in agitation at the noise, but his hoard took priority, so he took a moment to stretch before finally tuning into the conversation.

The three of them were arguing about another one of their screen viewings, trying to decide which one of their little stories to play. Each of them seemed to treasure very specific titles with passionate reverence, but for Puff couldn’t tell the difference between most of them. The screen was always too bright for his eyes to focus on for long, and the sounds often too loud.

As such, when the decision was left up to him, he simply stared at them blankly for a moment before settling back into a curled up shape to continue dozing.

There was a pause in the chatter (making the strange noise seem all the louder) and then they continued speaking in much more muted tones, indicating discomfort and uncertainty. Puff felt a twinge of discontent run through him and sighed grumpily.

This was the problem with a human-shaped hoard. They were so difficult to maintain.

Not that Puff would trade his hoard for all the shining things in the world. Each of them on their own were more valuable than any number of treasures combined. Every dragon probably felt that way about their hoard, but in his case it was true.

He let his eyes slit open, peering at the nearest of his collection.

Roman, who carried the smell of pigments and an appreciation for the finer things himself, was like a golden gauntlet. Ornate but handcrafted, painstaking care in every detail, and dripping with rubies.

Logan, who needed his hands occupied just as well as his mind, was like an illuminated manuscript. Pages draped in silver leaf edging, needing such a delicate touch to keep the ink from wearing away.

Patton, who watched them all with keen eyes and a warm gaze, was like a polished wooden music box. Inside, rose-colored clockwork met precisely placed metal prongs, together producing the notes to a nostalgic tune.

They were so precious, all of them, but never more than when they were shining their brightest with joy and contentment.

Puff was having a hard time making them happy, lately. Without Not-Puff, it was much harder to figure out which actions would keep his hoard from becoming dull with misery. His tail thrashed irritably as he once again felt the absence in himself.

Despite his constant presence as a part of their shared being, Not-Puff was assuredly not part of the hoard. He was like a rusty, chipped butterfly knife. All double edges and caked dirt from lack of care. Barely even worth looking at.

Still, Not-Puff was better at understanding which choices would make the hoard happy, which meant he was useful to have around. Puff mentally prodded at the barrier aiding in keeping the other half of him tucked quietly away, but there was no response. As the days passed, he’d only stirred when one of the hoard did something dangerous-stupid that went against all of their shared protective instincts, and even then, only barely.

It made Puff think that he didn’t plan on coming back.

It wasn’t like Not-Puff was a dragon, so maybe he simply didn’t care as much about the hoard. And even if he was gone for good, what did Puff care? That just meant more room for him in the empty, echoing space of their mind.

… Whatever.

Puff rolled over and got to his feet, stretching his wings out until they threatened to cramp. How irritating, thoughts like this keeping him up when all he wanted to do was take a nap.

If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well investigate the source of the noise.

He leapt easily to the floor, his hoard having already picked a glow story to watch in subdued silence. Patton called out a parting caution, and then Puff was off, trotting over to the stairs.

He passed Not-Puff’s room with barely a glance down the darkened hall. It was empty, obviously, though most of his hoard didn’t seem to realize. Logan and Patton often stood at the threshold, knocking and trying to coax Not-Puff out with sweet foods or concerned words, and while Roman generally avoided it, Puff had caught him staring more than once.

No matter what they tried or didn’t try, it remained locked up, silent and dark inside. Just like its former resident.

Puff could still get in, though he refrained from using the small flap-like door when others were watching. It wouldn’t do to make his hoard feel excluded, after all.

His dagger, the obsidian one with the gilded edges and honeyed words, could get inside, too.

His dagger-- Puff couldn’t quite recall the false name he used-- spent a lot of his time locked in that room, which was a bit foolish of him. It couldn’t be pleasant. Even Puff could feel the stagnant, fearful aura that lingered there, and dragons weren’t known for being affected by such things.

Not-Puff had complex, many-edged feelings towards their dagger, but it didn’t really matter, because Not-Puff had complex feelings about all of the hoard. He was a strange one like that.

In any case, it didn’t stop Puff from occasionally tromping off to go curl up in his dagger’s lap, letting the silly creature talk at him. He always talked when Puff came to bask with him, trying to coax Not-Puff out with lies and threats and even apologies that made his voice crack.

None of it ever worked.

He wasn’t in Not-Puff’s room now, though. Puff felt around curiously, and found his dagger was out in the real world, playing pretend.

He did that more and more often these days, dressing up to masquerade as Not-Puff for their Thomas. It was a strange practice. Puff much preferred his dagger as himself, all shining scales and black velvet.

Thomas was the crown of their little hoard, of course. It only made sense.

The odd tone grew in intensity, and Puff shook off his distractions, ears flattening against his skull. He could curl up with his hoard later, once this irritating buzzing was-- as Roman would say-- vanquished.

He passed the doors in the hall one after another, listening carefully at each one. After such a thorough inspection, the answer became clear.

Puff studied the portal-like entrance to the imagination, head tilting back and forth as he listened carefully to the noise. Not-Puff’s fear of this realm had kept Puff from wandering into it alone up until now, but the painful buzzing was definitely coming from it.

It was Not-Puff’s own fault for not being around to stop him, he decided, and stepped through.

-

As Puff trotted down cobblestone paths and dirt roads after the sound, it only seemed to grow more and more intense, enough so that he had to stop a few times to shake his head agitatedly, trying to get rid of the ringing headache.

At least those irritating shadow projections Not-Puff spawned weren’t present. The woven thread around his neck seemed to do well enough preventing them, which was good, because Puff wasn’t in the mood to go scampering around avoiding the trifling things. Not when there were noises to attend to.

“So it worked, after all.”

The strange, lilting voice made him spin around, wings flaring defensively.

Up in the twisting boughs of an old oak, the stranger cocked their head, bird-like. “I wasn’t sure it would,” they continued. “You’re a strange one, aren’t you?”

They tossed a hollow stone in their hand, the strange noise emanating from it. The scales along their cloak rattled with every movement, and Puff’s hackles rose in response. He remembered them. The Witch that tried to turn him against his own hoard.

“Now, don’t be rude. I’ve skinned beasts much larger than you with barely a snap of the fingers, you know.” They slid down to the ground, and Puff skittered back a few steps. “Halt.”

The compulsion took root firmly in him, keeping his feet glued to the ground. He hissed viciously, furious that their magic had such a hold on him. They sauntered closer and dropped to a squat.

“So my thrall does affect you… perhaps before was a one-off? I suppose it’s still interesting enough that you somehow keep your mind.” The eyes of their mask were dark and hollow, sending a chill down Puff’s spine even as he continued to growl viciously. “Quiet, now. Keep your mouth shut.”

His teeth clacked together painfully as his mouth snapped shut, leaving an impotent glare as his only form of defense.

“Perfect,” they said, and plucked him up from the ground, calming his struggles with another pulse of magic and a hand down his spine. “His Royal Irritation has been rearing for fight after fight lately, so it’ll be nice to finally have some leverage on my side.”

A chill spread through him.

“How long do you think it will take for him to find you?” they mused, tone light and mocking as they continued to run their hand along his spine possessively. “Days? Weeks? I certainly hope I’ll have enough time to prepare for company.”

Puff felt as though the metal cuff around his leg had grown suddenly heavy. He had a sinking feeling that it wouldn't take them nearly as long as he might hope, not when his hoard had grown so used to having him constantly nearby. Not when there was a tracker to lead them right into the Witch’s trap.

“Don’t fret, little dragon,” they crooned, tapping a finger between his eyes. “Sleep. I’ll wake you for the fun.”

Unable to do anything else, he obeyed.

-

When he woke, it was on the floor of an ornate birdcage, with magic thick in the air.

He uncurled, limbs weak, and pushed himself up to see that not one, but three of his hoard were before him, standing there in the grand hall of an ancient castle, facing off with the Witch.

The sight sent a thrum of alarm through him. The three of them didn’t enter the Imagination together often, and the effects of their combined presence made the place feel more real, more lasting.

Seeing the way they were back to back, surrounded by vicious constructed monsters, that wasn’t a good thing. That was a very, very bad thing indeed.

Even from his position next to the Witch’s throne, he could make out the cut on Roman’s forehead that continued to drip blood into his eyes, the way Logan leaned his weight heavily on one foot as though injured, the exhausted shaking of Patton’s frame as he tossed away a monster at Roman’s back.

More than that, he could feel the strain of his mental connection to his hoard, the urge to keep them from harm nearly all-consuming. They were his, and he would not stand idly by while they suffered.

For the first time in weeks, there was a stirring inside of Puff, like a billowing of air on banked coals. A white-hot glow, expanding with nowhere to go.

A gloved hand flicked the bars of the cage, bringing all his furious attention to the Witch. Their invisible gaze rested intently on him, making his scales prickle.

“Enjoying the show, small one?”

If looks could kill, this battle would be long over. The Witch laughed lowly at him.

“You look at me so fiercely, but this wouldn’t have been possible without you, you know?” They turned their gaze back to the battle with a darkly satisfied tint to their voice. “All three of them, right here in the palm of my hand for the sake of such a tiny, helpless creature. I’d almost think there’s something genuinely special about you. Too bad you probably won’t survive the heartbreak when I kill them.”

The snarl Puff let out seemed too small, too weak to even begin to express the amount of vitriol inside of him. The Witch didn’t even glance at him before rising to their feet to join the battle themself. His body trembled oddly.

He was afraid, he realized with a startle. He was more afraid than he’d ever been before.

That internal stir rose up again at the emotion, but it still felt as though a wall of thick mental fog separated Puff from it, like reaching through a haze. Bracing himself, he pushed past it anyways, dizzy with the effort.

For the first time since they’d been separated, Not-Puff was reaching back. Puff hesitated for the barest of moments.

If they did this. There would be consequences.

If they didn’t do this…

Nothing could be worse than losing them, one of them answered, and the other agreed. Which one was which didn’t really matter, in the end.

He took the anger and the fear that bubbled up inside of him and let them grow, welling up into one singular drive to protect. And, as the empty space around him seemed to vanish, he realized that he was growing, too.

The bracelet was the first thing to go, the connecting thread snapping at the pressure of his changing form. The tracer cuff followed easily, metal crumpling, and then the bars of the birdcage bent until they snapped, and then he was free of every restraint at last.

Virgil half-expected to come back to a human shape at that very moment, but Puff was still more than present in their mind, and as much as he loved their humans, there was clearly a superior option to better keep them all safe.

He flickered up like the flame tongues of a rising bonfire, or a bolt of energy connecting the earth and heavens, until he was big enough that his wings spread and met the adjacent walls of the throne chamber.

Every eye in the room was upon him, and when he growled, it was like the rolling crashes of a thunderstorm. Some of the monsters cowered away from that alone, turning tail and fleeing.

The Witch looked up at him and cackled, exuberant where they should be terrified.

“I knew there was something there, something different! You may have changed shape, little dragon, but my thrall isn’t so weak as to be influenced by size. You’ve only made your hoard’s end that much easier for me!”

Virgil could see the three of them behind the Witch, crowded together and staring up at him with equal parts apprehension and hope. His hoard wouldn’t be hurt a single moment longer. Not by the Dragon Witch, and certainly not by him.

The Witch lifted their arm and snapped their finger at him.

“Stop all that noise, little dragon,” they commanded, and the compulsive magic washed over him and rolled right off.

Slowly, deliberately, he took a step forward, and his growl rose in volume, echoing off the vaulted ceiling.

There was a heady feeling of satisfaction at the way the Witch stumbled back, the mask barely hiding their shock. “I said stop, right now.”

The magic passed, easier and easier to ignore. The Witch would never control this body again, no matter what form it took.

With a howl of wordless anger, they vanished from sight, and all the monsters that remained turned to him with aggression writ in every line of their bodies. An unfamiliar sensation welled up in his chest, waiting to be released.

Might as well see what this familiar-unfamiliar form could manage.

Working off Puff’s instincts, Virgil opened his mouth and let something click in the back of his throat before exhaling what looked like thick, rolling smoke. It filled the air, clumping together dense and heavy, and Virgil blinked, recognizing the form of it.

Huh. Storm clouds.

In the next moment, lightning sparked, shooting down and lancing straight through every attacking creature. Virgil darted a few steps closer, somewhat alarmed that friendly fire might hit the others, but even as they hunched down in surprise, any electricity that neared them seemed to simply veer away.

Of course it did, the more draconic part of him crowed smugly. No magic of his would hurt his hoard.

He went to his humans anyhow, moving slow so as to not startle them. He was the oversized one, now.

He needn’t have worried. As soon as he lowered his head into range, Patton lunged forward, wrapping his snout in the best hug he could manage. He was clearly sniffing back tears. “Oh, kiddo, we were so worried!”

Roman was attempting to casually lean on his sword, but there was clear relief in his gaze, too. “We should have known better than to believe the Dragon Witch would get the better of you, huh, Puff?”

Virgil huffed a cloud of colorless vapor into Roman’s face. Affectionately.

“We should celebrate our reunion later, once we’re safely out of here,” Logan pointed out over Roman’s faux-indignant complaints.

Despite his own words, Logan took a moment to reach out, gently placing a hand on the side of Virgil’s head as though to reassure himself that he was real. Virgil leaned into the touch slightly, an odd pleased chur bubbling up from his chest.

As his eyes slitted nearly shut in happiness, he caught movement from the corner of his vision.

The Witch, holding one hand aloft and casting something that made his skin prickle, aiming not at him, but at the other Sides.

Quicker than he could think, his body was moving, curling around his precious people with only a second to brace himself before the attack struck him solidly in the back.

It seemed a simple strike at first, barely breaking skin, and he regained his footing as the others rose to his defense with a ferocity that made his chest feel strangely pressurized. Between the three of them, the Witch was more than outmatched, and they were finally forced to flee.

It was only then that Virgil noticed the feeling of rot and fever spreading along his skin.

He stumbled, and then lay down heavily as his energy dipped well below what was sustainable. The others fluttered around him like moths, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Virgil let out a sigh, almost too exhausted to be panicked. He’d really thought for a moment that he’d pull it off, that he could deal with the backlash of the huge, energy-draining form on his own in private and maintain this fragile balance. So much for that.

On his next exhale, there was a flash-crack as the transformation came crashing back down on him, leaving him snapped back into the form he’d abandoned. Anxiety.

Around him, there was a stunned silence to replace the earlier clamor. He forced himself to blink his eyes open, resisting the urge to squint and see them more clearly. He didn’t really want to see what kinds of expressions they were wearing.

Whatever the Witch had cursed him with was still active, burning him up from the inside-out like the awful fever Thomas had gotten when he was ten. If the others weren’t going to take the opportunity to discorporate him, the poisoned injury would manage just fine on its own. And he’d just gotten back, too.

At least the others weren’t in danger anymore. Hopefully, Thomas would be okay until he reformed.

… Who was he kidding? Thomas had managed fine all these days with him gone. He would probably be better off without Anxiety, just like everyone had always said.

Still, he was leaving the others without being punished for the deception he’d been subjecting them all to for so long. He was leaving them without any real answers at all.

“Sorry,” he managed to grit out, barely able to think past the blood rushing in his ears. It seemed to break the fragile silence, because the others all began speaking at once, creating an indecipherable tangle of noise.

Soundlessly, Virgil passed out.

[fitgothgirl]

Hiii here have an update :]

Things are decent, not much going on lately. Still making it to the gym about 3 times a week for lifting, but just recently starting to try to get more cardio and steps haha. Lifting is awesome but I would also like to be losing some fat here and there too lol, can’t forget about that. I at least just want to get enough steps a day but I know cardio is good for your heart and lungs and whatever (grumble grumble) so I want to get some times of higher heart rate once or twice a week to start with.

A couple days ago I also started a bullet journal. I’ve always liked these but never thought I could do one since they always look like works of art and I’m not artistic, don’t have pretty writing, etc. I didn’t want to try it and mess it up or end up not using it because I hated my artwork. But I recently saw a tumblr post about how making bujos like that is great for people who can/like to do that, but originally bujos were made by a guy (Ryder Carroll) who wanted it to be super simple and straightforward. In his Youtube intro video his handwriting is even messy enough that I almost can’t read it at times lol. But I guess a lot of people are like me and get overwhelmed at how we normally see bujos and so we avoid them, but he actually invented the method specifically as a neurodivergent-accessible way to stay organized, apparently in particular for people with ADHD. So that made me feel way better about starting my own. I did watch some other videos of people’s minimalistic spreads which I took from that added to Carroll’s original method, like a habit tracker and a gratitude page, etc. But otherwise it’s really straightforward and all I use is just a graph notebook (I like graph paper over dots hehe), a black pen, and a ruler (not even necessary technically) and that’s it!

This is good for a lot of reasons but I especially want to use it to help me with what I think is going to be a New Year’s resolution - get out of debt! Or at least close to out of it - not sure if I could completely get out if it in just a year. My financial situation is horrendous and embarrassing. Since I started my bujo in December, this month’s financial goals included just not using my credit card anymore, and starting in 2023 I want to plan specifics for paying off my cards and saving a little. With Christmas shopping this month, I couldn’t really start with that stuff yet (even though I’m keeping the shopping minimal this year).

I’d also like to start incorporating a way to meal plan/meal prep with it, but I’ll do that down the line a bit. One thing at a time.

Otherwise things are pretty chill. Concerts petered out after October - had just one at the end of November and we have NONE scheduled for the next THREE MONTHS. This is crazy for us lol. I bet at least one will come up before then though. It’s funny though cuz if not, the last concert I went to was AFI, and the next concert I go to will also be AFI haha. The one that just happened was a regular album tour show; the one that will be in March is a special one-off concert where they will be playing an entire album through “for the first and last time” (Sing the Sorrow, since it’ll be its 20th anniversary). We have to travel down to SoCal for that one too. So unbelievable we even got tickets, I’m so stoked. It’s going to be a special night with the most diehard fans.

Anyway, December is surprisingly an almost plan-less month. Just Christmas and New Years obviously, and we’re having a late combo friendsgiving/secret Santa dinner party at the end of the month too. Enjoying the lull in things before the schedule gets packed again in spring - besides that concert in March, there are already plans coming up around then and onward. I love doing stuff and I also love staying home, so I got a good balance right now lol.

[fanfics4all]

Lioness And Her Lion

Request: Yes / No  So the reader is Daryl’s younger sister and with soulmate marks Glenn and the Reader each have half of a tattoo please? any season is @julia-potter626​

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Glenn Rhee x Fem!Dixion!Reader 

Word count: 2645

Warnings: Nothing really I think

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

My two older brothers taught me all about soulmates when I was growing up. They each had a different tattoo. Merle’s was a deer on his hand while Daryl had a really pretty cherokee rose with two arrows. 

They each got theirs when they were fifteen, so when it was my turn I was so excited to see what I would get! As soon as I blew out my candles I searched my body for the new tattoo. I found it quickly on my arm and smiled. 

“That’s pretty badass, little lady.” Daryl said with a smile. 

“I don’t know little lamb, seems you’re stuck with some asshole.” Merle said and Daryl smacked him. 

“Fuck off, don’t scare her.” Daryl growled and I rolled my eyes at my brothers. 

“Can you two please not fucking fight on my birthday?” I groaned. They always seemed to be at each other’s throats, but I was the only thing that seemed to bring them together. If anyone ever messed with me they would come together and take care of the problem. After I got my tattoo, they seemed to be extra protective of me. So when the world ended they took me with them and made sure I was always safe.

A month into the apocalypse, I had become really depressed. I gave up hope of ever finding my soulmate and my brothers noticed how crushed I was. Daryl always tried to keep my mind off it, or tell me that my person was still out there, but it was just so hard to believe that with the way things were going. It was especially hard to believe his words when I had Merle telling me that he was wrong and I should just give up like he did. Eventually the three of us found a group and joined them in surviving. Daryl had met his soulmate Carol, which went roughly, but turned out alright in the end. Merle had turned into more of a druggie and Daryl kept me away from him. I was honestly distant from everyone in the group. I was still so broken up about never finding my soulmate that I would just spend most of the time in my tent or out hunting with Daryl. 

One day I was sitting alone in my tent, just staring at my lioness tattoo. That's really how I spent a lot of my time. How could something so beautiful bring me so much pain? 

“Hey! Y/N!” I heard Daryl call for me. I sighed and pulled down my sleeve, then made my way outside. 

“What is it bubba?” I asked, walking over to him. I noticed he was standing with one of the guys in the group, Glenn I’m pretty sure his name is?

“What did I tell ya about using that damn nickname around other people?” He growled and I rolled my eyes. 

“Get over it. If you can call me little lady around everyone then I can call you bubba.” I said crossing my arms and he sighed. 

“Whatever. Kid, show her your arm.” He said to Glenn. 

“Uh, alright?” He said and extended his arm towards me. My eyes widened and I looked down at my covered arm. 

“D-Do you think?” I whispered and looked up at my brother for confirmation. 

“Only one way to find out.” He said and I pulled my sleeve up. I placed my arm next to his and our tattoos started to glow softly. Both our eyes widened and we looked into each other’s eyes. 

“It’s you…” We whispered at the same time. 

“Told ya you’d find him.” Daryl said and I smiled. 

“But, if you even think about hurtin her, you’re gonna deal with me!” Daryl threatened and I groaned. 

“Way to ruin the moment!” I said and my brother shrugged, but walked off. 

“I was honestly starting to lose hope.” Glenn said, making me look back at him. 

“I already lost hope, that’s why I’ve been so distant.” I blushed. Glenn placed his hand on my cheek, making me look into his brown eyes. 

“You don’t ever have to worry about losing me.” He said and I smiled. 

“I really hope so.” I replied. 

Our group had grown, which meant we needed a bigger place to keep everyone. We had found a prison that we were all living in, it was a nice little community. Everything was great, until the Governor attacked us with a tank. I was grabbed by Maggie during the attack and she helped me get to safety, along with Sasha and Bob. I had no idea where Daryl or Glenn were, and I had no idea if either of them were safe or dead. The four of us were in the fog and walkers were growling all around us. We all stood back to back killing any walker that made their way to us. It was hard and I was almost bit, but Sasha shot it. 

“You ready?” Maggie asked once we were all safe and recovered from the attack. 

“We should wait till the fog clears.” Sasha said. 

“We’ve been waiting a while.” Maggie said. 

“You see all this? We got lucky. We need visibility. And we’ve got six bullets left.” She sighed. 

“She’s right. We’ve been doing good following the plan. No need to get sloppy now.” Bob said and I rolled my eyes. 

“I am a tracker, I could just lead us away from the walkers.” I pointed out. 

“No, if we don’t keep you safe Daryl will have all our heads on spikes.” Sasha said and I sighed. 

“Glenn wouldn’t be too happy either.” Maggie said and I nodded. 

“Fine, whatever.” I said as Maggie pulled out a compass. 

“What is it?” Sasha asked. Maggie tossed it to her and sighed. 

“It’s broken.” She said and Sasha sighed in defeat. 

“We don’t need it. Sun comes up in the east, sets in the west. We’ll keep an eye on it in between. We’ll be fine, right Y/N?” Bob asked and I gave a small smile. 

“Yeah, we’ll be fine.” I agreed. The two women didn’t seem too convinced, but didn’t say anything. 

Once the fog cleared we all headed out. We found some tracks and I sign that read.

‘Sanctuary for all community for all those who arrive survive Terminus.’ 

“Terminus. When we were out on the run to the veterinary college, we heard a message about this on the radio.” Bob said. 

“They were broadcasting?” Maggie asked. 

“What did it say?” Sasha asked. 

“Couldn’t make it out. I only know because I’m seeing it now. “Those who arrive survive.”” He answered. 

“We should go.” I said. Maybe Daryl and Glenn are there.  

“I thought we were looking for your brother and Glenn.” Sasha said. 

“What if they saw one of these? They would go looking for me looking for them.” I said and Sasha sighed. 

“Look at this map. All these tracks from different directions, all leading to the same place!” I said with a smile. 

“It’s far. And we don’t know if there are other signs.” Sasha said, thinking with her brain rather than her heart. 

“You don’t think this is the only one?” Maggie asked and I smiled slightly. 

“This is the best lead we’ve had so far. It says sanctuary. That’s just another reason to try. Others from the prison could be there. Tyreese.” Bob tried convincing Sasha. 

“If it sounds too good to be true… Maybe if Glenn or Daryl saw one of these, maybe they’d feel the same way.” She said. 

“Glenn wouldn’t. He’d believe, I know it.” I said. 

“And Daryl?” Sasha asked and I sighed. 

“Daryl would probably agree with you.” I answered and she nodded. 

“Look, what do you want to do, Sasha? Keep making these circles from the bus? Or are you talking about us starting to do something else?” Bob asked and she looked at him. 

“We’re not splitting up. That can’t happen. You want to take a vote or something?” He suggested. 

“We don’t need to vote.” She said and walked away. I smiled at the other two and followed behind them. 

After a while we set up camp in the woods nearby. Bob and Sasha stayed at the little camp while Maggie and I went to get firewood. Maggie had become the older sister I’ve always wanted. When we first met, she had become protective of me almost instantly, said I reminded her of herself when she was my age. 

“Sasha isn’t gonna go through with it ya know.” I said with a sigh. 

“Yeah, I know.” She also sighed. 

“I’m goin’ with or without them.” I said and she gave me a small smile. 

“Then I am too. I promised your brother and Glenn that I’d keep you safe.” My eyes widened. 

“Really? You’d risk everything for me?” She nodded with a smile. 

“Of course, I need to see my sister too.” She said and I nodded. 

We decided we weren’t gonna actually tell them we were leaving. Instead, while the two of them were asleep, we left a note. 

‘Don’t risk your lives 4 me good luck’ 

The two of us were off to Terminus. Trying to find anyone from the prison. Our siblings, my soulmate. We followed the tracks and ended up finding another sign. We ran up to it and I went to write on the box it was on, but a walker growled behind me. 

“I got it.” Maggie said, but I stopped her. 

“No, I got this.” I said with a smile. I walked up and kicked it in the knee, then stabbed it in the head. I cut its stomach open and used some blood to write on the box. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie’ 

Maggie gave me a smile and nodded for us to continue. She handed me a rag and I cleaned the walker blood off. 

“That was a smart idea.” She said and I smiled slightly. 

“Thanks, Daryl taught me use what you got.” I said and she chuckled. 

“Smart man your brother is.” She said and I nodded. 

“It came in handy when the world ended.” I said and she sighed. 

“The worlds not over.” I looked at her confused. 

“What’d you mean?” She smiled. 

“The worlds over when all the good people are gone.” She said and I thought about that for a moment. Maybe she was right. 

When we passed another building with a walker near it I did the same thing. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie’ 

I needed to leave a trail. I needed to be with them again. I needed to know they were alright. Not knowing anything was killing me, more than anything that’s happened before. I refused to believe either of them were dead. But I had to be strong like Daryl and even Merle taught me. Dixions were strong right till the very end. 

Maggie and I reached a town. The two of us decided to see if we could find anything. It was abandoned like most places were nowadays. There ain't nothin’ safe out there anymore. Terminus might not even be safe, but it could be safe enough for a while. Maggie might have wanted to look for supplies, but I needed to find another walker.

“We need to rest for a bit.” Maggie said and I sighed, knowing she was right. 

“Ain’t nothin’ looks safe enough.” I pointed out and she gave me a small smirk. 

“We got walker blood all over us, we could just lay in the small pile over there and blend in.” She said and I thought she was crazy, but it was the best idea we had. So, the two of us laid down and rested for a bit. 

We woke up to a sudden crash and walkers coming out from all their hiding spots. Maggie grabbed me and we went to grab some weapons. Maggie grabbed a sign and I pulled my bow from my back. We heard someone else fighting them and found Sasha on top of a car. The two of us joined in the fight. 

“Where’s Bob?” Maggie asked. 

“Out looking for you two.” Sasha answered. 

“What are you here?” 

“Supplies and rest.” Maggie answered and I bit my lip. 

“I was looking for another walker.” I said and Maggie looked at me with slightly wide eyes. 

“Obviously, we found more than I wanted…” I blushed slightly in embarrassment. 

“Y/N, we didn’t need to go into town to leave another message.” Maggie said, grabbing my shoulders. 

“I know, but what if they came through here before they saw any of those damn messages! I gotta leave as many as I can!” I said and She sighed. 

“We’ll find them.” Sasha said and we both looked at her. 

“We can make it there.” Maggie said. 

“I know, so let’s find Bob and let’s make it there.” She said and I smiled. 

It really wasn’t that long before we found him. All we had to do was follow the tracks, but at a faster pace. We saw him walking along the tracks and we all smiled. 

“Bob.” Sasha called and turned to face us. He smiled and the three of us hugged him. After the short reunion we followed the tracks to another sign. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie, Sasha, Bob’ 

We walked a while and made it to a tunnel. Another perfect spot for a message. 

‘Glenn and Daryl go to Terminus Y/N, Maggie, Bob, Sasha’ 

We all tried goin’ through the tunnel, but we heard walkers. We couldn’t go through. We had to go around, I only hoped my boys would do the same. During our trip we found some people in a car. They had been with Glenn! We all heard shooting from inside the tunnel and quickly drove in. 

“Get down!” Abraham shouted. Each of us took aim with our guns and killed the small hoard of walkers. When they were all dead I walked up to Glenn and hugged him crying. 

“Oh my God.” He whispered. We pulled apart and I kissed him more than once. 

“Hi.” I whispered. 

“Hi.” He whispered back. My heart felt fuller than it did before and we kissed again. 

All of us were clearing the walkers to the side, deciding to stay the night here. 

“God, you are so beautiful.” Glenn said after we just dropped a walker on the ground. I smiled and laughed. He was adorable as ever. 

“How’d it go?” Glenn asked Rosita as she walked back with the girl Glenn had been protecting. 

“End of the tunnel’s secure. If anything tries to come in, we’ll hear it in plenty of time. 

“We ain’t get to officially meet.” I said to the girl. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. Tara, this is Y/N. Y/N, Tara.” Glenn said and she shook my hand. 

“Hi.” She said. 

“Hi.” I replied. 

“He’s a big fan of yours.” She said and Glenn gave a small chuckle. 

“I met Tara on the road. Couldn’t have made it here without her.” He said and I pulled her in for a hug. 

“Thank you.” I said. 

“When she heard what I was doing, she said she had to help me. She’s just that kind of person.” He said, smiling at her. If it was any other situation I would probably be jealous, but he was my soulmate and based on what she said, he talked about me a lot. Glenn grabbed my hand and I pulled him in for another kiss. My other half was back and I felt happy for the first time since the prison. Now all I needed was Daryl and my world would be perfect once again. But for right now, this was enough.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie​ @tashy-bear​ @ashwarren32​ @hollie-blogs-blog1​ @schisbro87​ @lover-of-books-and-teas​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @teenwolfbitches2​ @genius2050​ @drw0301bieber​ @lady-of-lies​ @ravenmoore14​ @ravenempress101​ @cillianchamp​ @rowanthomasknapp​ @rachelxwayne​ @lover2448​

[soulmate-game]

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month 2020

Day 2: Father Daughter Bonding

Marinette had known her father was Bruce Wayne since she was thirteen, and the man showed up on her balcony one day in full bat-attire exactly one month after Hawkmoth appeared. He had apparently spent the whole month sorting through all of his magical contacts and trying to figure out who the heroes were so he could offer help—only to realize that the apparent leader of the duo of heroes was his biological daughter that he never met or told about his existence.

Okay, so the majority of the month was actually spent on him trying to figure out how to deal with the daughter he had never met becoming a superhero, even a leader of a team, without his assistance or influence whatsoever. But. Regardless. It ended up with him taking a Zeta tube at midnight in Gotham, and ending up on Marinette’s balcony as she got ready for school.

That was when Marinette learned about Bruce Wayne being both Batman and her biological father. After, of course, a brief heart attack at seeing a stranger outside her trap door.

But besides that short visit, Bruce had largely respected Marinette’s order request to stay out of Paris. He understood, after all he held a similar policy for metas in Gotham. Didn’t mean he was happy about leaving Marinette to deal with her supervillain without any reliable backup, but he stayed out of the city nonetheless.

But, there was Marinette’s lack of training to see to. She was not completely untrained, she knew at least two types of martial arts pretty well and her gymnastics ability was second only to Dick himself. But for a superhero? No, she needed a lot of teaching still. So Bruce had arranged for her to spend some holidays and a weekend or two that she could get away with over at Gotham (via Zeta tubes or other portal of course) for him and the other Bats to personally instruct her. Now, three annoying years later without any solid evidence to land Gabriel in the brig (though they all knew by then that he was definitely Hawkmoth), Marinette decided to switch things up.

She landed on a gargoyle’s head, on one of her rare patrols with Batman. She wasn’t Ladybug there, instead deciding to go by the simple name Rouge Wing, as both a play on her native language and the fact that red bats are considered lucky in China. She didn’t wear her Miraculous on these patrols, instead using the rare opportunity to develop her natural skills. And prove once and for all to her stupid brother that, yes, she could keep up with him. And, no, it didn’t matter if she didn’t grow up in a temple learning how to kill, she can still hang him upside down by his ankles if he upsets her one more time—.

Right. The gargoyle.

Batman landed on the rooftop behind her, raising an eyebrow under his cowl. “Don’t you usually make fun of me for perching like that?” He asked, crossing his arms. Robin landed on that same rooftop a moment later, choosing just to sit on the lip of the building and swing one leg lazily over the edge. He and Marinette tended to get along at least half the time nowadays, which Bruce considered An Accomplishment. Marinette only hummed, blue eyes hidden behind her red domino mask as she gazed over the dark city.

“I’ve just been thinking—“

“Nothing new there,” Robin interrupted. “Should I be on the lookout before you run into a wall again?”

Marinette tossed one of her batarangs at him, which he only had to duck to dodge. Sticking her tongue out like a Mature Teenager, she continued. “You guys do things really differently here in Gotham. Which makes sense, of course, because Gotham is a lot different than Paris. But…”

“But?” Batman prodded, deciding to sit on the rooftop and lean one arm on the lip of it so he could lean towards his blood children.

“But it’s been three years. You hardly ever get out of Gotham besides JL meetings or missions, Dad. And, well, if you promise to keep a handle on your emotions—“

Robin snorted, before realizing where this discussion was going. His eyes widened behind his mask in disbelief. “No way.”

Marinette glared at him half heartedly for a moment before completely turning around on her gargoyle and facing Batman. “We don’t see each other enough. And it’s not easy for me to come to Gotham all the time. So maybe, just this once, you can come to Paris and patrol with me? Next week, maybe?”

Bruce couldn’t talk for a moment, just staring at his daughter with his mouth slightly agape. Marinette had been very specific: no non-miraculous heroes in Paris. Period. Not him, not Robin, nobody, because she wasn’t sure she and her partner would be able to win against an Akumatized hero with years of experience.

Robin tossed a birdarang at Batman, which he dodged on instinct. “Well, he’s still alive,” he remarked to his sister. Rouge Wing had scooted closer somewhere during Batman’s shock, looking minorly concerned.

“What brought this on?” Bruce finally asked, making his daughter sigh in relief at the proof of his consciousness.

“Well, multiple reasons. For one, I know now that I am capable of at least restraining you until I have the chance to break an akumatized item, so there aren’t too many worries there anymore. And I only see you once every month if I’m lucky—“

“And her birthday is next week,” Robin supplied easily, smirking at the glare his sister sent him at that.

“Traitor,” Marinette grumbled, puffing out her cheeks a little. Considering the two of them were only a month apart in age, with Damian being the older of the two, it wasn’t unusual for Bruce to forget about one or the other. Summer birthdays in general were hard for him to remember, what with all the spring birthdays that he strained to keep up with.

“Oh, oh,” Bruce sighed, rubbing a hand over his cowl-covered forehead. “That’s right. I’m sorry, of course I’m more than happy to visit Paris next week. Maybe we can even do more than one day?”

Marinette relaxed, nodding. “That would be nice. Just, not in your civilian persona. Bruce Wayne is too recognizable, even in Paris, but a visit from Batman would be shrugged off as just us getting help. But, in order for everything to work, it would probably have to be a day patrol.”

Batman flinched a bit. That’s right— his daughter was a day hero. He wasn’t looking forward to patrolling in full daylight, but he owed her this at least.

“I’ll be there.”

—*—*—*—*—*

When Batman arrived on Marinette’s balcony (actually expected, this time), it was to see the poor girl covered head to toe in ribbons and balloons that all had some variation of “sweet sixteen,” “happy birthday,” and “16!” On them. She hadn’t even been able to transform yet, her Kwami just munching on a cupcake and giggling at her expense. She even had a party hat on her head, but judging by the way she was trying to wrestle it off it hadn’t been put on her head willingly.

“Need help?” Bruce asked when he entered her room, peeling his cowl back and grinning a little at the awkward sight she made. Marinette groaned, looking at him with the most pitiful expression ever.

“Please! Maman and Papan always like celebrating my birthday, and they’ve gone over the top a few times, but I think they went a bit…” she pulled at one of her pigtails, releasing a waterfall of glitter. “Crazy this year.”

Bruce chuckled, walking over and helping to untangle the various ribbons, streamers, and other celebratory restraints that had trapped the petite Parisian. Then, once she was completely untangled and only stubborn confetti and glitter remained, Bruce hung a small box to one of her pigtails by one of it’s bow-loops. She let out a surprised laugh, rolling her eyes at him before pulling it off and looking at it properly.

On a little white card it said: “Happy 16th, Marinette!” In Bruce’s handwriting. It was a small, black box with silver ribbon tied around it in a bow. Marinette couldn’t help but snort at the color choice, sending her dad a knowing look that he dutifully ignored. Carefully removing the bow and unwrapping it, she opened the box to see two little silver, bat-shaped hair pins. Carefully taking them out, she could feel that they were real metal, and surprisingly sharp.

“You can wear them however you want in your hair, to hold your bangs back or in your pigtails,” Brice decided to explain. “They have trackers in them—no, don’t give me that look. They only activate if you tap SOS on one of them. If you hold down the back of the clip, you can extend small blades if you ever need to cut yourself out of a trap or defend yourself.”

“You gave me mini batarangs for my hair,” Marinette teased, but immediately clipped them to her pigtails. “I love them. Ready for patrol?”

“Whenever you are,” he agreed before pulling his cowl back down.

One transformation and some travel later, and they were at the Eiffel Tower to plan their route.

“Obviously, Paris is too big for me to patrol the whole place on my own alongside school and Akumas,” Ladybug explained. “Even with Chat Noir’s help, it’s too big. So, just like you guys back in Gotham, we have routes that we rotate out. But the police here actually do their job and can handle most criminals, so our patrols follow a different logic than in Gotham.”

Batman nodded, holding his chin as he considered that. “That makes sense. Instead of focusing so much on the more crime-heavy parts of the city, especially since Hawkmoth hasn’t akumatized any criminals yet, it makes more sense to focus on areas around schools, tourist sites and other hotspots for recreation, and the general residential area.”

Marinette nodded. After talking a bit more about how she and Chat normally patrolled, and why, they actually hit the rooftops. It only took thirty minutes before Marinette had to intervene, grabbing Batman’s shoulder before he could punch a purse snatcher. The criminal in question, clutching a sparkly holographic purse in utter terror, couldn’t even muster the courage to run in the face of the famous Dark Knight. Ladybug glared at the older hero for a second before turning to the thief and shrugging with a lopsided smile.

“Sorry, he’s still not used to Parisian crime stopping. I’m reigning him in though, no worries,” she assured him. Just as the thief began to back away though, her yo-yo sprung out and wrapped him up head to toe, allowing Ladybug to grab the purse with a smile. “Thank you, I’ll take that. Remember Batman, minimal force. This isn’t Crime Alley.”

Batman grumbled. “It was just gonna be one punch,” as he zip tied the guy and dragged him to the corner for the police to pick up. Ladybug returned the purse.

“See? A daytime patrol isn’t that bad,” Ladybug remarked as she ran over the rooftops with Batman, deciding that sticking closer to her dad was more important than going as fast as possible. Batman grunted, but Ladybug saw his minuscule grin.

“I still prefer the night.”

“Only because you don’t stick out like a sore thumb at night,” she teased. And then the Akuma Alarm went off.

—*—*—*—*—*

Marinette panted as she lay sprawled over her bed, catching her breath. Bruce was slumped in her computer chair, cowl off and head curving over the top of the headrest. After a moment, Marinette spoke up;

“You look peaceful.”

“When I’m winded?” He cracked an eye open to shoot her a tired but still deadpan look. She snorted.

“No. With your eyes closed. And cheer up, it was only Gigantitan. Not anywhere near the worst we could have gotten.”

“I think you’re forgetting that I don’t have magic helping me out. Fighting giant children is not something I do often.”

“Oh please, you’ve fought way worse.”

“... that is true.”

“Dad?”

“Mmhmm?”

“Thanks.”

“Of course. Want to go back to Gotham with me and get ice cream before you have to be back for dinner?”

“Read my mind.”

—*—*—*—*—*

hi! Let me clarify something real quick guys. These one shots are for Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month. Meaning, there are 30 prompts, one for each day of september. These one shots will NOT be connected unless previously stated! This one, as you could probably tell, has NOTHING to do with the story for Day 1. I’m just exploring a bunch of possibilities and letting my imagination run wild for these. Nonetheless, I will definitely tag you if you want. Thanks!

@momothefemur @ladybug-182 @starlightshield @trippingovermyfeet @greatcatblaze

[thequeenxofhearts]

“Oh my, what have I done to deserve such a beautiful smile?”

Jason Todd x Reader | One-Shot

Summary: Jason is worried when Y/N doesn’t come home from work. Follow up to “Close your eyes...you’re safe now.”

“Just keep an eye out for her…thanks Damian.”

Jason hung up the phone and began pacing the living room again. Y/N was supposed to have been home a few hours ago but when she did not return home, Jason called her phone.

There was no answer.

He rang a few more times, and there was still no answer.

He called Bruce but no criminal activity came up on the Bat computer, and Bruce admitted that he had not gotten around to putting a tracker in Y/N so he couldn’t find her.

“I suggest you stay home in case she turns up. Tim’s on patrol tonight, I’ll send Damian out with him to look for her.” Bruce said, “Don’t worry Jason, she’ll turn up.”

But worrying was all Jason did.

The last few days he had noticed that Y/N had not been herself. He wondered if maybe she was having a hard time at work…she had not been the same since the Joker attacked her workplace a while ago.

But he knew she wanted to get back to work, she had had a lot of time off but he wondered if eventually she got sick of being at home and being bored and wanted to go to work.

But he knew she would not have gone if she really didn’t want to.

 Then he began to remember specific things that had been happening recently, she was not that interested in watching the TV as she used to be, she was struggling to get into the books that were stacked on the shelves.

She was eating less than usual, and she spent more time in the shower than she normally did.

 His phone lit up. He grabbed it, hoping it would be a message from Y/N, or about her. But it was just a stupid app update notification.

He saw his battery was running low, so he went into the bedroom to get the charger.

As he opened the door, he noticed the curtains were still open. Giving him the view of the city outside. And how it was getting darker outside. He looked at his watch; 6:41PM

He felt his stomach drop.

She had never been this late home without telling him where she was, and what time she thought she would be back.

He was getting more and more worried.

 His phone vibrated in his hand, it was Tim’s number, “Tim?”

“I’m sorry Jay, I can’t find her. I searched the park and most other placed where I know she’s been, but a lot of stores are closing for the night. I doubt she’d be in one of them.”

Jason ran his hand through his hair, “Where is she?” He muttered.

“Jason, it’s starting to rain.” Tim’s voice was filled with sorrow.

Jason went to the window. Tim was right, rain began spitting onto the window, and it started getting heavier.

“I’ll keep looking for her Jay, I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thanks Timmy.”

He hung up, and just as he did, Damian called, but he basically told Jason what Tim had just told him.

So, Jason called Bruce, “I need to be out there looking for her, Bruce.”

“Jason you need to be home in case sh-”

“In case she turns up, I know! But I’m no good to her worrying at home, am I?” Jason exclaimed.

“I’ll keep an eye on the computer, if anything comes up I’ll send the boys to check it out. I’ll keep you updated Jason.” And with that, he hung up.

Jason leant against the wall and slid to the ground.

He brought his legs up to his chest and buried his face in his hands.

Maybe Bruce was right, maybe he should stay home in case Y/N comes back. But he didn’t know where else to look for her, both Damian and Tim couldn’t find her. He didn’t know what to do.

He thought about everything he had done when he realised Y/N had come home; he’d called her several times and tried to remember the conversation they’d had before she left for work this morning, but he couldn’t remember her saying she was going anywhere.

But he knew that sometimes after work, she would go across to the bookstore opposite her workplace, but she would not be there for hours, maybe half an hour at the most.

At four o’clock, he called her workplace, but they said she left one-thirty. Normally it would have been two o’clock, but it was quiet, and she seemed tired, so they let her go early. It was then that he called Bruce and told him what had happened.

He was angry at himself for not going to look for her.

He wasn’t angry with her for not coming home, he thought maybe she needed sometime to herself and didn’t think to tell him, but now that neither Bruce, Damian or, Tim could find her, he was more and more worried.

He looked at the photograph of the two of them on the bedside cabinet. He remembered where and when it was taken; the apartment he was in right now, two years ago when they moved in.

Previously they had been living in Y/N’s old apartment, but it was too small for all of them. It was ok when they first started dating as Jason was living in the old Ace Chemicals factory, and he was just spending nights with her. But nights turned into weekends, and he eventually moved it.

But the small apartment just wasn’t big enough for the both of them, so they moved into this current apartment together two years ago.

Jason eventually told Y/N about his alias, and about his family, but it didn’t bother her as much as he thought it would; much to his relief.

She worried about him, he knew that, and she tried to stay awake when he was on patrol at night, but most of the time she fell asleep. Jason once joked, telling her it was her job to keep the bed warm for him.

He smiled at the memory, and then tears stung his eyes, “God I hope you’re ok.” He muttered.

 A few seconds later, he heard the front door opening. He quickly got to his feet and ran to the kitchen. Y/N had just closed the front door behind her.

She had gotten caught in the rain, her coat was wet, and her hair. Her face was wet, but he knew she had been crying.

“Y/N!” Jason exclaimed, he ran to her. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, and he heard her quietly sobbing on his chest. “Where have you been?” He asked, peeling her coat off, and hanging it on the back of one of the chairs next to the heater.

He held her face in his hands and kissed her forehead, “Y/N?”

“I’m sorry.” She muttered, but Jason held her again.

He took her over to the sofa and wrapped a blanket around her before pulling her down with him on the sofa.

All she had said was, “I had a bad day.”

Jason brushed her wet hair out of her face, kissing her forehead again. “It’s ok now.” He whispered.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

She shrugged, “I dunno.”

“You’ll feel better.”

“I dunno Jay. I feel like everything in my head is all jumbled, and I don’t know what to do.”

Jason sighed, “Go take a shower, I don’t want you getting a cold. When you’re finished we’ll talk, alright?” He smiled sweetly; Y/N nodded.

“You’re not mad?” She asked.

“No, I’m not mad at you.” He replied.

 Y/N went to the en suite bathroom, she closed the door behind her and a few seconds later Jason heard the shower coming on.

He was so relieved that she was home safely, but he had another problem to sort out.

He called Bruce and told him she was home safe.

“I’m glad she’s ok Jason, I told you she would come home. Where was she?”

“I don’t know, she’s taking a shower but when she’s finished, I’ll find out.”

“I’ll call the boys and let them know she’s home.” And Bruce hung up.

 Jason opened one of the kitchen cupboards, and he pulled out the bottle of whisky he and Y/N had been saving ‘in case of emergencies’

He grabbed two whisky glasses and poured a little drop into each glass.

He went back to the couch and picked up his phone. Whilst he still a little bit of power in it, he called Domino’s Pizza and ordered pizza for them both, he knew she liked the garlic dough balls so he ordered them as well.

He went to the bedroom to charge his phone up, and while he was in there, he thought he would grab Y/N’s pyjamas, some underwear, and some thick socks for her. He put them on the radiator, so they were warm for her when she put them on.

 He heard the shower turning off and about five minutes after that, she came out of the bedroom, wearing the pyjamas that he had put on the radiator for her.

Jason opened his arms and she fell onto the sofa next to him, and snuggled against his warm body. He wrapped the blanket around her and reached for her glass of whisky on the coffee table.

She took it gratefully.

“Are we gonna talk now?” He asked gently. After taking a sip of the whisky, she nodded.

“What’s the matter then?” He asked, stroking her hair.

“I don’t know.”

“You haven’t been yourself since you went back to work.” Jason commented, and she nodded, “I think that’s it.”

“You think you went back too soon?”

She shook her head, “I don’t think I wanted to go back at all.”

Jason kissed the top of her head, “Why did you go back?”

She sighed, “I didn’t want to be at home all the time…and I didn’t want you to think that I couldn’t handle it.”

“If you weren’t ready to go back, you didn’t have to. Doesn’t matter what I think, my love.”  He held her tighter, and firmly pressed his lips to her head again.

“Go in tomorrow with your resignation. Take some time off and when you’re ready, look for another job.”

“That’s easier said than done, it’s gonna take ages to find another job.” Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair.

“I dunno I heard a certain billionaire is hiring at Wayne Enterprises.” Jason smirked, Y/N smiled.

Jason smiled, “Oh my, what have I done to deserve such a beautiful smile?” He squeezed her tightly, kissing her forehead again. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She replied.

There was a knock at the door.

“Dinners here!” Jason exclaimed.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, as Jason opened the door, she saw the Domino’s Pizza delivery guy standing at the door with 3 boxes. Jason gave him the money and returned to the couch with the boxes.

“I ordered your favourite; something cheesy and spicey, with stuffed crust and dough balls.” He winked; Y/N smiled again. “Thanks Jay.”

“My pleasure, babe.”

[kats-kradle]

Hi hello yes I actually found your blog while I was looking for Ronon Dex whump, something there is not nearly enough of, and I just wanted to say that should you ever want to share your thoughts about him, whump-related or otherwise, I'm around to hear them,,, I care him very much (which is why I like to see him hurt... funny how that works).

OHOHOHOHOHO DID SOMEONE SAY THE MAGIC WORDS “RONON WHUMP”????? And yes there is not NEARLY enough Ronon whump!!! Buckle up I don’t think you know what you’ve unleashed by offering to let me talk about this XD i have 43 (i counted thats not an exaggeration) unfinished fics where i whump this man so i have A Lot of Thoughts on this so i’ll try to keep my headcanons and general thoughts from getting mixed up so here we go (also I haven’t actually seen past season 3ish but I know like everything)

Just general thoughts

I just love the team dynamic in general the actors had great chemistry with each other

They don’t whump Ronon enough and that is A Crime.    

But when they do whump him OH BOY ITS GOOD

Just off the top of my head I can think of     the episode where John and Elizabeth were possessed by those people who     wanted to kill each other and ronon got SHOT that was dope especially when     it showed the surgery but I was so mad there was no aftercare

Also just the fact that after Ronon was shot the guy possessing John said (about John) something like “if only you could hear him right now he is screaming so loud” or something to that effect and I’m not really a John whumper but oh boy the thought of John fighting as hard as he could to try and get control back because he wants to help Ronon rlly adds to the experience

After atlantis flies and John is going around checking the damage and he finds Ronon with the shard of glass in his shoulder juts the way he kneels down next to him is so soft and his voice goes soft too its great

I haven’t gotten there yet but ohoho the enzyme episode where Ronon gets drugged and then has to go through withdrawal ohooho I may have watched that scene a few hundred times

I just love also how fiercely loyal Ronon is and how much he trusts them

That ep where those villagers were going to give them to the wraith and Ronon literally would rather die than let his friends be taken to the wraith I love how John and Teyla go through like  45 heart attacks that’s one of the ones I haven’t gotten to yet but ive  seen gifs and oh boy oh boy does it look good

The way I generally describe Ronon is he’s     like a bug fluffy dog. Like he’s kind of silly sometimes and he’s very     loyal and will kill without hesitation if it means keeping his friends     safe

Also just that whole scene when Ronon arrives     when John is asking Elizabeth if he can stay is just like a kid asking his     mom if he can keep a dog he found

And Ronon has such a sweet smile also I love it when hes happy (but also I love it when hes in pain)

Stargate Atlantis was very well directed because for most definitions of “good acting” you can see “oh this character is sad. Now they are happy” which I do understand that many people prefer  this because they have difficulty interpreting facial expressions but I absolutely adore how subtly expressive the actors are because to me it’s fascinating to decode what the character is feeling. They act like real people and talk in the way real people would and it seems super natural and not scripted, and you can just tell in their interactions that the characters care for each other a lot and its beautiful

Now that I’ve said something vaguely scholarly-like its time to move on to the mess of headcanons

Headcanons

So when rewatching season 2 with my sister I realized the amazing potential for angst involving Kell (his old commander who he killed) so in my mind even though he’s very loyal to John at first it was more of a “you saved my life now I’ll watch your back because I owe you” and he had difficulty trusting any of them but especially John this changes over time ofc but he can’t help being wary of command 

I also hc that Kell  would punish the soldiers in his division for being “unfit” for battle so like if they broke a leg or something they would be punished  (this is mostly just for my guilty pleasure of ANGST) so that way they     would “be more aware” of their surroundings and whatnot 

Also disobey direct  orders was a big no no and you know how laid back John usually is with  orders so the first time Teyla disobeyed a direct order after Ronon joined the team John was grumbling about it in a way Teyla knew wasn’t serious but Ronon just kind of panicked and started lying his ass off and saying he threatened her into doing it and he should take the punishment which led to an awkward conversation (awkward for Ronon, it left his teammates ready for some murdering)

He hides injuries  because he was alone for so long and never had anyone to take care of him so he just forgets that he has to mention it and in his mind some injuries might not be that bad 

Beckett is constantly  chasing him around after missions desperately trying to get him to hold  still for long enough to do a check

Ronon hates pain medicine because it tends to dull his senses so in his mind all the more  reason to avoid Beckett

He is really good friends with Beckett but just not when he’s hurt

Usually he wanders into the medbay after bad nightmares if Beckett is on night shift and will just sit there

One time he hesitantly asked if Beckett could check to make sure that the tracker was actually gone for good

Ronon was expecting to get laughed at but Beckett took the request with the upmost seriousness and ran all the tests he could think of to calm Ronon’s fear

One time Ronon stumbled into the medbay and he obviously hadn’t slept in a while and was flinching at every noise so Beckett made up an excuse to “take some blood to test and see if it would be compatible with vaccines for the common sicknesses  humans get” and just like. Sedated him. Ronon felt betrayed at first but quickly realized that Beckett only did it because he cared about him and wasworried. He did try to get more sleep after that tho

Oh and you can bet Beckett goes off at him if he ever ends up in the medbay which he does to everyone but  especially Ronon because usually he’s either dragged there or he’ll come  in like “yeah so three days ago for the last mission I got hit in the side and now I’m coughing up blood so…” and then will just like pass out

While he was a runner he trained himself to be a light sleeper so adjusting to Atlantis was difficult because the ocean would wake him up every night at first

Also thunderstorms are The Worst to him because 1. It gives him PTSD for when he was a soldier and the wraith were attacking and 2. When he was a runner thunderstorms were almost a death sentence because the wraith could track him but he couldn’t hide he couldn’t hear and he couldn’t see so yeah thunderstorms are real bad for him

He has a constant fear of leading the Wraith to his new home and his new family oh also I decided that he doesn’t know if his mother died or not so every place they go he’s hopeful he’ll see her

This is a hc I had before I knew it was basically canon but he and the team hang out in the cafeteria a lot especially after nightmares they just all gravitate there

Also I haven’t gotten here yet so I’m just going off of what I know but he kind of tried to leave after Beckett died because he managed to find a way to blame himself also one of my hcs is that Beckett would tell him  about Scotland all the time and had decided that if they ever got the opportunity to go to Earth then Ronon was coming to Scotland with him sooo     ehehhe the angst of Ronon going to earth for Beckett’s funeral and going     to Scotland with Beckett but not in the way either of them wanted

On to softer hcs just cuz

He loves hugs. 7 years of being alone would  make anyone want a hug.

Children gravitate to him for some reason. Logically it doesn’t make sense because he’s so big and a bit intimidating but children just adore him

He carries extra snacks for Rodney

He can’t swim. Somehow he went his entire life without knowing how to swim which Rodney is astounded by and goes on about it for a minute or so

John took it upon himself to give him swimming lessons. John was a terrible teacher but Ronon managed to get the idea

He loves cocoa, specifically loaded with marshmallows. Teyla jokes he likes the marshmallows more than the cocoa

Wow this has gone on so much longer than I thought it would

So that’s it! you unleashed the beast. I now demand to hear your thoughts on ronon because boy oh boy hes a great whumpee and im not sure ive met many if anyone who likes to whumpe him so im super excited!!

[machi-kun]

Hi! If you’re still writing for the fic requests, 45 for stony? Btw I soooo love the high school reunion fic ❤️❤️

we love two scheming geniuses scheming against bastards, in a world where everything went better

****

“Me and Rogers are not on speaking terms anymore.”

"I am very sorry to hear that.” Thunderbolt Ross - Secretary of State Ross, the son of a bitch - says, without a single speck of remorse. “I suppose now is when you tell me you won’t help me find him?”

“You know me so well.” Tony replies through-gritted teeth. “You know I’d love to, but I can’t.”

“And you want me to believe you have no way of tracking Rogers? Through his shield, or his suit?” Ross raises his eyebrows, unimpressed.

“I did, before Rogers removed them.” Tony clarifies. “You think he didn’t know where the trackers were?”

“And I suppose everyone else did too? Romanoff, Wilson?” Ross smirks cruelly. “Maximoff? You’d really let her walk around unsupervised?”

Tony’s jaw clenches so tightly his cheeks hurt. “Why not? She’s a big girl. And if I’m not making my way to a cell right now, why should she be? Some would argue I need more supervision than she does.”

Ross barks out a weak laugh, nodding curtly to himself, as if terribly amused. “If you had told me that just a few years ago I would have definitely agreed with you. Lucky for you, you are not the biggest fish I have to catch anymore, Stark.”

“I’m sure I can live with that. Although, to be clear, I want you to know my feelings are very hurt.” 

“I’ll make sure to write that down on my report.” Ross sneers. 

“Report to what?”

“The UN.” Ross reminds him firmly. “Or did you forget this is what this whole mess is about? To put the Avengers under the supervision of a council that’s prepared to deal with the messes you leave behind?”

Tony clicks his tongue. “Right. And their escape is gonna be part of that report?”

“How else would I explain why they are not here?” Ross asks him with distaste, as if Tony’s being purposefully annoying. 

Which he is.

“Their escape from a very secret, very illegal maximum security facility?”

Ross pauses, his silence dangerous. “You have something to say to me, Stark?”

“I’m just wondering how that little project of yours is gonna fly. Keeping superheroes trapped in the Raft - did anyone in the UN approve that, or did you just make that decision for yourself?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Ross smiles, a vile, ugly thing. “You don’t worry about it, Stark. It’s none of your concern.”

“What if I make it my concern?” Tony presses. 

Ross looks at him for a long, very uncomfortable second. “Why? You worried for Rogers, is that it?”

Tony’s hand clenches into a fist beneath the table. 

“Do I have to repeat myself - I don’t care about Rogers. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t want to know. I tried to work with him, I tried to reason, obviously it didn’t work. And I don’t work with people like that - bad for team morale.”

“You, complaining about not listening to reason?” Ross laughs. “I guess old dogs do learn tricks.”

“You would know.” Tony jabs, through a false smirk - if he dares to stretch his lips too wide, there will be too many bared teeth to disguise it as a smile. 

Ross looks him up and down, as if considering if he should press the issue further, and Tony sits ramrod straight in his chair, spine stiff as metal, refusing to cower under the bastard’s calculating gaze. He has no reason to. Stress, pressure, and guilt - they are Tony’s old friends, and Thaddeus Ross’ judgment is not stinging enough to wound his thick skin, not punishing enough to bruise. 

People are so used to see him in the suit that they often forget Tony has been wearing armor long before Afghanistan. They forget Tony has been playing this game for a very, very long time.

Ross shouldn’t forget. He’s seen Tony fight like this before. He should be more careful.

But it seems he has forgotten too. 

Well.

His mistake. 

“I guess I should say I’m sorry about you and Rogers, but I don’t think you would appreciate that.” Ross mocks, as he gathers his papers and folders and tucks them under his arm, slow and dragging, as if he’s savoring the motion - savoring his victory over Tony, over the Avengers, standing there as Tony is forced to sit down and look up at him, as if the mere difference in the level of their gazes is akin to defeat. “I doubt you would have invited me to your wedding, anyway.”

“We were not engaged.” Tony hisses. “We weren’t like that.”

“Not for lack of trying, right?” Ross stares him down, provoking. “Rogers might have other priorities, but you sure would do anything to protect him, even lie. It’s a shame he doesn’t feel the same.”

“Are you done?” Tony snaps, angrily.

Ross huffs out a weak laugh, and turns to leave, not sparing a single glance back. “Don’t forget we have a meeting tomorrow at noon. You better bring me some good news, Stark.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Tony replies, but Ross is already closing the door on him, and suddenly, Tony is blessedly, completely alone in the conference room, and only then he can sag and relax in his seat, taking in a breath so deep is lungs hurt.

“Christ.” He mumbles to himself, tiredly. He runs his hand over his face, pressing his fingers into his eyes as if that could chase away the sleepiness, and says, “Please tell me you got it.”

“I got it.” Steve says - his voice low and a little distorted over the speakers in Tony’s watch, a little worse for wear, but still a better comfort than anything else he could have asked for. “Nat is getting the files to the UN as we speak.”

“That’s going to be some news tomorrow.” Tony mumbles to himself, leaning back in the chair. “The press is going to put us through hell.”

“Good news, I hope?” Steve asks, and Tony can hear that he’s smiling.

“Yeah, well, Ross did ask. He just didn’t specify who the news should be good for.”

“I don’t think he’s going to be very happy to hear he’s going to jail.” Steve muses.

“Then he should have been more specific.” Tony quips back, and Steve laughs breathily on the other side of the call. 

It’s been only a couple of days, and Tony already misses him something awful. He groans, and somehow Steve, with his stupid Tony-sense (something he surely learned from Rhodey), knows Tony is being whiny and mopey (Rhodey’s words, not his). He would go to Rhodey but he can’t right now - it would raise Ross’ suspicions, and though Rhodey won’t admit, he’s still a little upset he managed to get a black eye in a fake fight. He’ll definitely make fun of Tony is Tony shows up saying he misses his boyfriend when the whole country is hunting said boyfriend all over the world. 

“Just a couple of days more, Tony.” He assures, soft and sweet, and Tony wishes he was here, so this would be over, Ross and Zemo both would be over, and this could all be forgotten as one long, horrible nightmare. “We’ll be fine.”

“I know.” Tony grumbles. “I just - I hate letting him think he’s won. I hate the smug look on his face.”

“Look on the bright side.” Steve tells him. “Tomorrow, you can be the smug one.”

“Oh, I will. And I will be even worse once you’re back. No more of this... secret dating schtick.”

“I thought you were having fun sneaking around?” Steve teases, and Tony wants to kiss him silly. 

“I was, but you know what’s gonna be even more fun? Having Ross behind bars so I can take you out on a real date.” 

“I can’t wait.” Steve says, almost in a sigh - and there’s something dreamy about it, hearing his voice through a call; Maybe it’s just because Tony misses him, or maybe because he’s just too old and too soft and too... too goddamned in love, but there’s something about this, about this Steve Rogers that’s mellow and shy, that's vulnerable only when they’re alone, when they trade whispers and secrets and kisses in the dark--

Tony just... misses him. He hates this being apart thing. 

He wants this to be over.

“I’ll sleep in your room tonight.” Tony tells him, sultry, because he knows the effect it’ll have, and he’s not above using it to get what he wants. “If you get here fast enough, you might still find me there when you arrive.”

Steve makes a tight pause. “I’ll be there in five hours.”

Tony laughs, for real, a genuine laugh, for what feels like the first time in months - and he misses the sound of the call disconnecting, but that’s alright. 

“See you soon, honey.” He mutters, and though his body is still tired and his bed - Steve’s bed - will be empty when he goes to sleep, he knows he’ll wake up with strong and warm arms around him, no matter what.

Soon, Ross won’t be a problem anymore. Better yet - Soon, Steve will be home. 

That alone is enough to make his life just a little bit better.