#(literally not dead but just not appreciated on my blog enough)

[emmyrosee]

I. MISS. KITA. SHINSUKE.

[xxacidnekoxx]

It is funny when normies comment on my emo boy artwork trying to extract a deeper meaning from it or straining to figure out a way it is useful enough for them. "Uhm. Uhm as one could see this is a metaphor.. this complicated expression of sadness shows us to appreciate good things in life <:3 " like no its just emo I'm not sorry. someone who is a complete stranger to me: "your art exists to comfort me and it is good because it comforts me because that's what artists are meant to do right? Cozy you up in a big blanket UwU artists are pretty much like moms if you think about it .. Cringe is dead X333 except! Art that makes me uncomfortable is bad art surely that art you did that one time of something bad happening to the comfort character was a slip up and soon you'll continue helping me specifically develop a dissociative fantasy because that's what all good artists do "🌈✨

I am a stranger to most of y'all this is literally just a mentally ill person's blog I'm not here to give anything to anyone and I'm not trying to get anything out of it leave the emo boys alone will be a better compliment to me than this kind of entitlement TBH

[gnohomotho]

Hello! Gonna be veeeery honest because this request is extremely personal and you ABSOLUTELY don't have to do it if it's too weird or something you don't wanna write 🙈🙈🙊

But like...the recruiter meets the femreader because she wants to end it (yeah that way) and plays with her for it instead..but he actually cares about her and doesn't want her to die 💔 Ik it's ooc I know it's stupid but I'd really really really appreciate it

Thank you and I love your writing so much! ❤️❤️❤️

Hello, Anon, of course it's alright. I hope I'm not the one being personal and intruding here - just a bit worried about you - if you want to drop into my messages and talk, that's more than alright, too. ♥

And no, it's not stupid. It's a very understandable thing to want to read when you're not doing well. :c Having a caring presence save you from the literal edge is - again - more than understandable.

Here you go. ♥

And a big computer hug from me.

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.

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Two Lives on the Table ➴ಇ

Pairing: The Salesman // The Recruiter x fem!reader Summary: She wants to leave, he doesn't seem too eager to let her go. No, this lady in her strong but crumbling suit of armour is something for him to play for - yet - he may be playing for more than himself as she finds...that perhaps someone truly, in their own, very sweet and very odd way, cares for her. Warnings: Angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of death, guns, loaded guns, firing guns, threat and consequences of death, 18+ MDNI, heavy personal contact, kissing, touch, teasing, harsh language. Word count: 1.8k A/N: You'd think I'd let you go without fluff? On this blog? Link to epilogue ฅ^._.^ฅ Gorgeous gif by @phantom-evil

"Do you trust me?"

The voice circles your ears and kisses their opening.

"Not really, no."

Your answer is as dry as a bone.

"Good," the voice coos before continuing:

"You don't need trust to play."

You straighten your back to avoid a shiver running down it.

"I find this game unfair."

The voice moves, circling to your other side, gently warming your temple.

"Good."

The shiver sauntered down your spine without issue.

"Has anyone ever told you you're an unhinged lunatic?"

"Many times," you can hear him smile into the words as they coil around his lips like honey, "though you know what they say. Dead men tell no tales."

"Is that why you never shut the f---"

"Ah ah ah. Little lady. That's a bit unbecoming." He hushes you, a single finger resting on your lips. His thumb traces their outline before laying in their center.

Why you agreed to play a game with this near stranger in a secluded place is starting to weigh at you. Almost as much as the blindfold.

He nudges your lips to open and his thumb gently rests on the border. Never quite intruding. But intruding nonetheless.

"Alright. Look. Stranger. Mr. Stranger. I know molesting girls you find on bridges under the guise of a game must be as fun as it is predictable, but I expected something different. Something more fun."

Oh, now you've offended him.

Attacks of character? No issue.

Attack of his games? Now you've done it.

The voice doesn't change, but the air loses every molecule of warmth it had huddled against its bare chest.

"Then allow me to make it more fun than your little wager with Death."

❥❥❥

You swallow on an empty dry throat. Did you really want to die? Or were you just playing? Or were you just...tired?

"You remind me of my favourite film," you voice in a low whisper.

You don't feel his breath anymore. But you do hear a distinct *click*.

"Hmm?" He voices, half amused, half bored.

"A young man who's been through enough meets Death, who is to take him. Fetching fellow, that one. Death. Nice calves. Anyway. The young knight says that before Death can take him, he has to play chess. And win."

"Does he?"

"It's never that easy, is it, Mr. Stranger?"

"Oh, little armoured darling. Do you think yourself a knight?"

"No, I just like Death."

"Then open wide, maybe he'll pay us a visit."

You do as you're told, and your lips feel the outline of a cold circle that tastes like…harsh metal.

“Good girl.”

He pushes the barrel of the gun just a little further as his sentence concludes, lightly turning it in your mouth. Left to right. Left...to right.

You don’t give him the satisfaction of mumbling into it, but your breaths are hurried, and a small whimper escapes your occupied lips.

Did you hear him sigh?

Just as elegantly, he slowly pulls the gun out of your mouth, and you cough.

“Innovative.”

“You know, I think we both know I can see straight through you, Y/N. Your cards are huddled up to your chest, but they’re…” he brushes the cold steel against your chin and runs it up your cheek, softly pushing into it, lenient pity in his voice that you know is false.

“…All turned the wrong way around. The whole table can see.”

His hot breath circles your cheeks, he must be gazing right at you with only millimetres separating his lips from yours.

“The whole table except for you, little lady. Blind to the game and blind to the threat. Blind even to yourself.” He playfully pushes three taps into your cheek with the gun and you feel warmth on your other, from your jaw to your eyebrows, even through the blindfold. It’s almost…kind.

His hand. His hand is on your cheek, as the gun pushes into the other.

“Now, let’s play a game.”

❥❥❥

Two bullets. One gun.

Two bullets. One blank.

Two players. One blind.

Two choices. Both wrong.

“Choose a bullet for me, little lady.” His slick voice rings in your ears.

“Who shoots who?” You try to remain steady, hands firmly clasped into each other, wondering how far he is from you, where you are, and what the table in front of you must look like.

How fast you could flip it on him and run.

“Well, curious little thing you are…I’ll leave it up to you. If you choose to shoot me and the bullet is blank, I get something in return.”

“Jesus, you’re predictable.”

But your voice is shaking. Anticipation? Cold fear? Armour crumpling?

“And you’re unravelling. If you don’t shoot, I get the gun. And I get to pull the trigger.”

“And I get a favour,” you add, your trembles not matching your thoughts.

Though by now the favour would likely be ‘fucking shoot me already’.

“Now who’s being predictable?” He teases, but you hear he must be having some sort of fun from his voice alone. It’s almost jovial, light, if he were anybody else, you would seek warmth in it. But you don’t. A painting of a fire underwater, that’s all he is.

You place your hand on the table, gently laying your fingers across each new inch to feel for the bullets and not disturb them.

He’s entirely silent, perhaps watching your fingers so softly touch even in their shivers, meticulous, elegant, gentle – perhaps he’s thinking you’re taking too long. You don’t care.

Your fingers find the two shapes, as you nudge them and envelop them in touch, you feel there is no discernible difference. Well, there goes the plan.

 Left right left right.

I had a good home but I left, right…left.”

You pick that one and softly flick it towards the sound of his voice. The bullet rolls on the flat surface with a little dull *clink* and lands against what must be his hand.

He loads the bullet wordlessly, the magazine spins and you lift your palms as if expecting something delicate and fragile, you’re weary of holding the gun, even through your tough words.

“So polite, it’s quite lovely to see.” He coos his little lullaby of words that barely reach you, and as he lays the gun just as carefully in your hands, you feel a single finger brush the knuckle of your dominant hand’s trigger finger. Not much.

Just enough to make you falter.

Your breath is stuck in your throat, your lungs aren’t getting enough, and you want to be done. You want to be tired of it all. You want to hesitate and refuse and throw the gun at him. Not shoot. Reset the whole scene. At the same time…

It took you less than a second to connect the two moves.

Aim. Fire.

The sound fills your ears and your heart beats as if it were a sleeping bellringer just now aware it’s the full hour.

The sound woke you up and you tear off your blindfold, nothing but regret and shame on your mind, you couldn’t have shot him, it wasn’t supposed to be like this, no no no, no matter who he is, you don’t murder people he didn’t even hurt you no---

But you tear off your blindfold to a swift blur of both light and dark, so fast you fall back in your chair with a heavy weight pinning you down, sudden crude touch circling your nape and without warning, cool supple flesh connecting to your lips – his own.

Their smooth warmth traverses the entirety of your mouth from outer corners to the very centre, their brisk but no longer concealed hunger enveloping them fully as he pulls you in.

A large hand shoots around your neck, not quite pushing, merely resting on your rapid pulse and holding you in place. One final thrust of his body against you as you feel his tongue enter your mouth and the blur hushes, your eyes closing on their own, reciprocating its motion, holding onto him for dear life.

The anticipation, the fear, the relief – all expressed and all barely breathed between your intertwined lips, your own gasping body, his form over you and his hand tightening around your throat – momentarily leaving to brush through your hair and pull your head back – allowing his tongue ever deeper into you.

Exploring, taking, feasting, you feel both subdued and his – and you feel alive.

❥❥❥

“You…you could have…said the favour was a kiss.”

You barely manage words against your explicitly not steadying chest. The blindfold is back on and you’re glad at least half of your truly flushed cheeks aren’t on display. He seems far calmer from his voice alone, but you know what you felt. Oh, he’s at least half as fucked as you are.

“I am not one to kiss and tell. Choose another bullet.”

It almost sounded like an order.

Alright, perhaps twenty-five percent as fucked as you are.

You once more choose the one on the left.

“Never was one for variety," you try to chuckle, but it comes out dissembled and half cut off. You’re shivering.

He merely hums and loads the gun again. You’d give quite a bit to know what he’s thinking. Your heart is fluttering out of your chest and your breath keeps getting stuck in the same place he grabbed your throat. As if he were grabbing it for dear life.

The magazine spins once more and once more; you take it in your hands with care. You could take it with less consideration, but somehow, the weight of the gun seems…heavier.

You endeavour to do exactly the same as before but…you cannot.

Your finger brushes the trigger, but does not move to push. Your lips open a tad, his taste still upon them – sweet, poisonous, invigorating, life-giving. And here you are. Holding something to take life away.

Just two movements, like before.

Easier than opening an unlocked door.

But you cannot. And your hesitation is more the duly noted.

Wordlessly, he takes the gun back from your hands and you hear the safety click.

Your thoughts stop.

Your heart almost follows suit.

You stop breathing.

The silence envelops you, but you do not move nor fight. Merely open your lips just noticeably, drawing a small shallow breath.

“Thank you for a…pleasant game, Mr. Stranger,” you whisper slowly, softly, holding your hands to yourself with each finger intertwined, “never could play chess to save my life.”

You almost laugh bitterly to yourself. But end with a wistful smile in wait as the thickness of each passing second rings your ears hollow.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

❥

One second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

❥

One.

Two.

Three.

❥

*click*

❥

Dull.

Reverberating.

Empty.

❥❥❥

He had taken the live bullet out.

[incorrect-gravescest]

To the Anon who asked me my thoughts on Episode 3: Decay pt 1, I accidentally deleted the post I had answered, so here are my full thoughts. Spoilers galore under the cut!

Holy shit, so I knew Decay would be dark, but Nemlei really took off the Rock Lee training weights and unleashed their full power on us. I got the Shots and Such ending and that felt like me wishing on a cursed monkey's paw.

"I wish Ashley and Andrew were living together as husband and wife, but no one knew they were really brother and sister! Oh and Ashley is pregnant too!"

But throughout it all, not only does Andrew slap her after she refuses to call him Andrew (her reaction broke my heart!) he later snaps and tries to kill her and then even later, beats the shit out of her while drunk, causing her to basically throw herself at him sexually just so he won't leave. But it's not like that was enough for Decaydrew...

But let's also take a moment to pour a two liter of ToxiSoda for Andrew x Julia shippers who insisted "Oh, Andrew isn't that bad of a guy, he's just a widdle man who's been corrupted by Ashley!"

But I liked it, at least in terms of entertainment. Everyone knows by now I'm a Burial Slut and just want them to have a happy ending (which, I think Nemlei is strongly hinting may not happen with this addition to the game)

but you can't have the light without the darkness and the sheer horror that is Decay just makes me appreciate my soft little post-Burial I've created.

And even if Burial isn't that happy ending and they wind up dead or in jail or somehow miserable, I don't think it would diminish my enjoyment of the series and I would still write fanfiction, roleplay as Ashley on Twitter and maintain my blog, because I just love those two siblings too much to give up on them.

It's not like Game of Thrones where the ending just left such a bad taste in my mouth that I just gave up entirely on the franchise, cause there's a difference between rushed laziness that was GoT and TCOAAL just going in a different direction than I wanted.

Anyway, Anon, I feel like I'm rambling! But to sum it up, I enjoyed the Decay route even if I felt like my soul was being torn to shreds and it makes me hopeful for a happier Burial ending for them. And even if it doesn't, I'll be more than happy to do my own thing.

[badgalsasuke]

Hello! First of all, thank you! You’re doing god’s work with all those interviews right now and not being appreciated enough! You’re my comfort sns blog tbh. One of the few places I actually feel safe at.

Now back to the topic. I remember you talking about too many people, even SNS shippers, not giving Kishimoto’s work proper credit. They always joke about how he “unintentionally” made Naruto and Sasuke gay and how it’s actually interwoven with real life homophobia.

I’ve met a lot of such people too. Whenever I talk to someone about Kishimoto trying to address homophobia in the manga, everyone gives me weird looks and tells me there’s not such a moment.

As if the whole fucking story is not about two kids who are treated like outcasts because of something they can’t change about themselves. Yep, Naruto isn’t entirely about that. But how does looking at two boys who’s dealing with complicated feelings for each other, while other people are constantly insist on them breaking their bond because it’s wrong, not remind them about a big, common and well-known issue such as homophobia?

I refuse to believe it’s just blindness. They choose to ignore it.

It’s also crazy how many times Naruto is being told off, dismissed and side-eyed by people for just mentioning Sasuke or paying him “too much attention”.

☝️Well, it’s because Sasuke is a criminal.☝️☝️

Bullshit. Nobody has a problem with Sakura liking him. The girl literally harasses him! Fuck, too many girls might’ve harassed him for all those years and no one bat an eye, but when Naruto simply said he didn’t want him to be killed, everyone is fucking judging.

This fandom is fucked up and I’m not sure if there’s a way to fix it.

I’m still wondering how Kishimoto is going to handle Sasuke and Naruto’s ending tho. I still have a little bit of hope they’ll die in a very ambiguous, but also telling way. Them dying will still be enough actually.

Hi anon!

I appreciate from the bottom of my heart that y'all are liking the interview archive project! because truth to be told is y'all the sns fandom the reason why I'm doing it in the first place, I want us to have them readily available.

Whenever I talk to someone about Kishimoto trying to address homophobia in the manga, everyone gives me weird looks and tells me there’s not such a moment.

It's weird because that's a big part of Naruto's (the character) writing. In one chapter he's feeling sexually aroused by Sasuke, in another he overreacts in disgust when Kurama reminds him he's only ever kissed Sasuke. He spends more time practicing the reverse harem no jutsu full of beautiful gorgeous men than rasengan but also when he encounters the giant possum (was it a possum? lol) he thought was female but ended up being male he says "even if heaven and earth switch places, a boy will always be a boy" or something like that which. He's incredibly possessive of Sasuke and finds him very attractive and at the same has zero interest in heterosexual porn but he was brought up by Jiraiya, who seems to be homophobic. Like, Kishimoto did write on Naruto's repression and internalized homophobia and everyone outside of some SNS shippers seem to ignore it.

It’s also crazy how many times Naruto is being told off, dismissed and side-eyed by people for just mentioning Sasuke or paying him “too much attention”.

Exactly!!! Kishimoto is making a point here! why is everyone in-universe so uncomfortable with Naruto and Sasuke's bond? Because it's not deemed "normal" in that universe either, they know something's up. But if you bring it up people will say "shonen is inherently homoerotic. All male best friends act like that in anime" well, not in Naruto! it makes the other characters uncomfortable for a reason.

☝️Well, it’s because Sasuke is a criminal.☝️☝️ Bullshit. Nobody has a problem with Sakura liking him.

This! No one in the Naruto universe has expressed discomfort at Sakura for liking Sasuke even when everyone wanted him dead. On the contrary, they pity her because "oh poor her, suffering from love! how dare Sasuke make her feel like this!". Sakura's suffering for love is acceptable and even object of sympathy by other characters like Sai or Kakashi. But Naruto is constantly criticized, shunned and even physically assaulted for having the same feelings. Like, no one ever beat up Sakura for wanting to save Sasuke.

I’m still wondering how Kishimoto is going to handle Sasuke and Naruto’s ending tho. I still have a little bit of hope they’ll die in a very ambiguous, but also telling way. Them dying will still be enough actually.

I also think they're gonna die together but it's not gonna be ambiguous, Kishimoto's insane ass is gonna have them die at the same fucking time, I'm telling you it's gonna be "our heartbeats stopping at the same time" type of shit, I can sense it.

[lovebvni]

Quick lil pick-a-pile (old, and yes i was denki obsessed and i still am. i love him)

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[ 🖊 ] created ⋮ 31.3.22

[  ] published ⋮  4.4.22

˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ ꒰ ⌨ ✰ Arsyn   ⋆  ⁱˢ ᵗʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ··· ꒱ | ೃ࿔₊•

┊       ⋆     welcome to my blog !

┊     °

hello loves! I haven't done a pick a pile in so long and i LOVE making these, this time i decided to challenge myself and make it an intuition instead of tarot (plus i don't have my tarot cards stfu)

The questions that will be answered today are:

1. A message from someone in your dr. (summitted by Ayaya)

2. What is holding you back from shifting? (summitted by IceChips)

3. How is your s/o doing? (summitted by IceChips)

pick an emoji!

💫|☮️|💥

Pile 1; starburst

1. A message from someone in your dr.

"Hey, hi! What are you up to? How has life been? You don't know? Well focus on it! You know, things may be hard, like hail falling on you, but you know what, I have a bulldozer to shelter you, so you know what. Keep pushing. Things may be hard, or something, but do the things you love, talk to the people you love, and you know what, while you're at it, draw someone from your dr or write something to them. I know they'll appreciate it!"

** Side notes: i felt some real best friend energy, maybe a sibling, or something? also getting in your family for some reason, somebody who would say weird ass shift like "a bulldozer from shelter" LAMOJSOIJTEJ **

2. What is holding you back from shifting?

First, I'm getting pretty much everyone picking this pile has not shifted. You're wondering why and overthinking it way too much. That's what's holding you back, overthinking everything you've done/are going to do. I heard "you dug your own grave; you have to make a way out now." You're not dead, you're alive and well. Get out of this hole by yourself. Play Minecraft, get a dog, and breed them (LMAO WTF AM I HEARING HELP) just have fun. Overthinking is just making this hole deeper. Also, while writing this, my cat kept going up and down the stairs, like she didn't know what to do. I think she felt stuck and doesn't know how to move forward OR backwards. I suggest some shadow work.

3. How is your s/o doing?

OMG IMMEDIETLY, I GOT SO MUCH HAPPIER OMG!! just joy came around me. I feel like they know you're gonna get past this hardship soon, and they're happy you even read this. I can tell they love you (feminine energy) so damn much, and they may be a bit clingy. "You got this, move forward, and you'll see the beautiful sunset."

Are sunsets important to you guys?

pile 2; peace

1. A message from someone in your dr.

"Do I have to do this? Oh my God." LITERAL BAKUGOU ENERGY OMG "Hi, I guess. Do something, don't just sit on your ass all day. That's all I got Arsyn, can I leave?" LMAO YES THEY ACTUALLY SAID THIS SHIT this person wants you to do something, like actually try to shift? I feel like you guys expect spirit to do everything. Nope. you have to put time and effort into this.

2. What is holding you back from shifting?

omg while typing the question i got a headache and now a toothache. Maybe you're beating yourself up for something that has no use, getting into fights, then being distracted from actually trying to shift. Avoid conflict, and things will get better. Also, I heard try to shift at least one time this week. Picking it back up will be really helpful : )

3. How is your s/o doing?

omg I'm getting so much mixed energy from this. for some your s/o is lowkey mad at you for not even trying to interact with you, but for others they're proud?? I'm gonna split this question up for each s/o energy I'm feeling.

S/o 2.1 is mad in general, again bakugou vibes, and just wants you to try and do something with your life. You know you can pick this shit up faster, you know you have enough energy to do it, but you're wasting that potential on shit that doesn't matter.

S/o 2.2 is proud that you've been resting but wants you to pick shifting back up because they want to see the REAL you, not your clone. I can tell they have a lot of love for you, and they always try to be positive when thinking about you, even when negative things happen. i also hear that you guys may be attracted to pile 3 for question 2? i haven't typed pile three atm so, ig see what's in store for you?

pile 3; explosion

1. A message from someone in your dr.

"HeyYYY whats up? how you doing? I know you've been waiting for someone to ask you that. Well, why don't you talk to people more about your interests if you think you have nobody to talk to? Talk to me about them!! Write your s/o a letter about them maybe? That's cool! Do that! Go! Shoo!"

2. What is holding you back from shifting?

Distractions. That's the only word I can use to describe me writing this last pile too. I've been distracted the whole time typing this. I've been so distracted. Mainly with gender identity shit (transgender memes mostly, I just sent IceChips a few) AND NOW IM LOOKIGN AT CUTE PUPPIES I MEAN LOOK AT THIS OMG

So some advice, focus on one thing. Use an ADHD method or something that won't make you fly away with funky thoughts. You got this. One step at a time, not five steps in a circle.

3. How is your s/o doing?

omg i can tell you guys are worried about them, thats so cute omg! i can tell you want to hug them, and i know the miss you too, they want hugs and kisses and they just want to make sure you're okay. I feel like they put you first and love physical touch. They miss you, but overall with academics, and live, they're good. They just miss you and want some hugs. Channel them and send them love, please.

[lizandbo]

okie doks, so i would like a hc where bokuto, kuroo, and maybe tsukishima react to seeing their volleyball player! girlfriend play for the first time

i love your blog btw :) it makes me happy <3

Volleyball player!reader x kuroo, bokuto and tsukishima

I’m so so glad that my writing makes you happy, plus this ask is like 100 years cuz time management is not a thing for me

Masterlist

Tsukishima

Before I say anything else HE WILL LAUGH WHEN YOU MESS UP

When you tell him that you play volleyball he might not believe you until he sees it with his very own eyes

He would believe you but ✨trust issues✨

If you ever invite him to one of your matches he just either gives a glare and says a monotone “ok” or grunt in response 

But most times he goes to your games without you knowing 

Tsukishima wants to see when do your best without the pressure of people yk watching you

Cuz honestly I feel that wholeheartedly 

But man when he does see you?

Bros gonna explode from being flustered 

He thinks that you honestly look really hot, but he never ever gonna say that

Not even when he’s being held by gunpoint, which honestly who would ask that question if you were being held by gunpoint?

Anygays 

He just appreciates your work ethic in volleyball

Not being too annoying and obnoxious about volleyball or not giving a fuck with his standards 

Nice balance 

and at some point you motivate him to push on his own hobbies (more so volleyball)

When you catch sight of him you whip your head around to get a double take almost getting whiplash in the process

He just covers his mouth and snickers by the confusion of your face just now realizing that he did attend your match after all

You shuffled up to him half bashful half excited to see tsuki

You wrapped your arms around his middle and he stared back to, giving you a little headpat 

“Sooo how did I do? Since you’ve been stalking me like a dimwit”

“You did better than last time ig, moron”

“You were here last time too??” 

“Now see your the dimwit here since you didn’t even realize I’m coming to your stupid games”

“Awww tsuki I thought would’ve never be here:(“

“Your an official dimwit” tsukishima says with a blush darkening 

Bokuto

He knew you played volleyball cuz he always has asked you how was your day? Every single fucking day

Even before you were dating

It might get a lil annoying sometimes but baby boy genuinely wants to hear about your day

Prolly at some point interrupts you by accident but once he realized he apologizes so damn much 

But a simple “it’s ok bo” is enough for him lmao

ANYWAYS 

IS SO PROUD OF YOU WHEN YOU PLAY

ALWAYS YELLS LETS GO Y/N OR HEY HEY HEYYYY THATS MY S/O

Vvvv proud baby 

Whatever position you play he’s so so so supportive 

“Y/n! That’s such a great set im so proud of you”

“I KNEW YOU COULD DO SO WELL BABY”

“HEY HEY HEY! That spike was so accurate, you should have a kiss as an award! Come her baby”

“BLOCK THEM BASTARDS! YEAHHH”

When the match/ practice is over he’ll quite literally jump and attack you with a bear hug smothering you to absolute death

You guys go to your car him carrying you bride style  and finding a withered mess of half dead rose petals in the passenger seat cuz bo was so focused on seeing you than bringing the damn bouquet of flowers he was gonna give you

“Well… maybe I’m just distracted by incredibly sexy and hot partn-“

“OKAY BOKUTO, LETS JUST GET IN THE DAMN CAR”

“Your also very cute when you stammer like that”

“Booooo”

Kuroo 

Also a vvv proud baby

Found out by having the volleyball match delayed and you coming home late

Quite literally did the mom “and where were you?” Thing on you

But he was concerned for his baby cuz you could’ve gotten kidnapped

You told him that you were at a game of yours and he was appalled 

“And you never thought that I would like to go?” Pouts like a little girl in a playful way

“Well I just never thought you wanted to go since your always so busy”

“Bullshit, I’d do anything for you” he practically manhandled you onto the bed and cuddled there

“Oh really? Anything??” Your eyes sparkled as he met your eyes with a small smile

“Yes baby, anything. Your my one and only”

“Ok so would you do the dishes for me? Oh oh and cook dinner too that would be absolutely fantastic”

Rooster wasn’t too happy with that response smh

SKJDJDJD I GET SO DISTRACTED ANYWAYS

rooster baby would go to any games when he has free time 

Analyzes your movements a lot 

But he’s never deeply judging you in a negative way, he’s just observing 

Becomes your personal trainer but would never push you too hard 

Always after matches no matter if you win or not he’ll always have some version of “you did well baby, now drink some water I’m not letting you be dehydrated”

Always gives you a meaningful hug too

Kisses are also a definite must

One on your forehead, nose and three on the lips

It’s like a secrete combination just between the two of you

Even tho it’s not even like a lock or some shit

It always amazing him how you do certain things when your focused into your game

Sometimes laughs at how cute you are

Just being a proud parent boyfriend is all you need

[lovemyromance]

Okay so just to give you a heads up, I went on the G*ynriel tags to see the troll and I saw a couple of your posts (not by the troll) and people were calling you audacious, calling your takes disgusting, need to touch grass, brain dead, pathetic, even slut shaming you, saw someone call you the troll, saying you support SA and are disgusting towards SA Victims and misogynistic for hating gwyn.

I think these opinions from actual people needs to be called out, rather than shaming us for trolls who we not even claim

I appreciate the heads up but whatever goes on outside my tags is none of my business 🤷🏻‍♀️

If random people on the internet think me capable of such opinions despite never engaging in this kind of atrocious behavior before, despite me never even commenting on any of their posts to start fights, all because I have different opinions from them about a fictional book series - that is on them.

It does not affect my life whatsoever to have them sit there being rude behind my back. If they want to seek out my blog, clone every post just to talk shit, and then get mad - that's not my problem. I don't make this content for them, I make it for fellow Elriels 🫶🏼

I know I'm not a slut, I know I'm not brain dead, and I know I don't "support SA" (wtf). I literally do not care whatsoever what a bunch of people with wayyyy too much time on their hands have to say about me. I know I'm right about what I have read in these books, and I don't feel the need to put down other people to feel confident in my views.

I'm a grown woman, I don't give a damn what people I don't care about say behind my back. Whatever they're saying about me says more about their character than mine, in the end. I have never talked shit about any blog or person and I don't care enough to.

I don't have to resort to that.

[aingeal98]

Steph for the ask game?

three facts about them from my personal headcanons

-The first woman Steph was ever attracted to was Zatanna. She didn't realise this until later on when she was dating Cass and it clicked that it hadn't just been platonic girl crush appreciation

-She did actually die. The body they put in the ground was actually Steph. Due to reality warping from various villains she ended up in Africa with Leslie who admitted that she hadn't actually let Steph die but tried everything and saw her bleed out regardless. They were both highly confused how she was alive again and they never did fully confirm why.

-She has all the autopsy scars and long lasting damage from Black Mask's torture. She used to play the piano but when she came back her fingers didn't stretch the way they used to and the first time she tried it gave her a panic attack.

a reason they suck

They were created and written by Chuck Dixon, which often meant being a part of his shitty conservative propaganda. She was more of a victim than a perpetrator most of the time, but I'd love to have modern Steph reflect on that and be like "Damn that internalized misogyny was kicking my ass sometimes huh."

a reason they are great

What if the entire narrative was stacked against you, what if your writers and editors looked down on you for being a teenage girl and treated you as nothing more than a pawn in their shitty sexist manpain stories. And what if you survived and triumphed and became loved enough to carve your own narrative. What if people have come and gone from the "family" that once excluded you maliciously but you're still here and kicking, a core part of it now. They put you in the Robin uniform as a consolation prize before killing you but you're still here and you're clawing your part in that history with everything you've got. For everyone that'll say Damian is the fourth Robin there's someone who'll reply "Actually that was Stephanie Brown."

a reason I relate to them

Being an isolated teenage girl who feels a deep anger at the injustice of the world and doesn't quite have anywhere to fit in or fully vent that anger? I was literally two bad days away from going out on the street to fight crime when I was a teen. I tend to relate to Cass more because the specific mentality and issues she have resonate strongly, but Steph also has plenty of material for me to dig into.

(what I consider to be) the top tier otp/ot3 for that character

Stephcass. It's gotta be stephcass. I could give a million reasons but I've yelled about this so much on my blog already. They bounce off each other so well, they've got the backstory and angst and complex dynamic while also being funny and cute together. The accidental romantic narrative they created is so damn good it barely needs anything to canonize it at this point.

five things that never happened to that character that I believe should have happened

A proper go at being Robin. An apology from Bruce. A discussion with Tim about what they did wrong and an apology too. A long talk with Cass after she came back from the dead with (you guessed it) an apology from Cass. Getting to talk to preboot Jason about what it means to be a sacrificial lamb to give Batman manpain and hype Tim up as the perfect Robin.

five people that character never fell in love with and why

-Dean. Even if she hadn't gotten pregnant it would have never worked out. He was simply too old and for all Steph hates herself she would have realized it eventually

-Detective Gage, for exactly the same reasons as Dean.

-Jason. He died before she came along and by the time he came back it would never cross either of their minds to be anything but purely platonic. They can bond but neither of them appeal to the other romantically.

-Kyle Mizoguchi. He's sweet and they could be something but unfortunately she's in love with Cass at this point. Like the entirety of Batgirls is just Steph and Cass being in love and not realizing it. Kyle had the wrong timing.

-Dick Grayson. The hypothetical age difference isn't a problem for Steph. But obviously, it's an issue for Dick. If she were ever to fall in love with him in an alternate universe and confess he'd be highly alarmed to find out why she thought things were possible between them. It might actually be nice for Steph to get an understanding ear and a shoulder to cry on, someone to tell her that it's not her fault and those men were wrong, but that's all. For one thing Dick is not a scumbag who creeps on young girls and for another thing that's his little brother's ex. In no universe could this ever be more than a one sided crush.

[lahooozaherr]

What Was I Made For?

Part 1

Please note: This blog stands with Palestine. If you are interacting with my account and TLOU related posts, I ask that you PLEASE visit these links. Be critical and mindful while partaking in TLOU content and be aware that creator Neil Druckmann is a Zionist.

Word Count: 4.7K

Warnings: Hypothermia??, soft!Joel, a pet name (sweetheart), Joel kinda goes to therapy, mention of child/loved one loss, I think that’s it but as always please let me know

MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI. AGELESS/BLANK ACCOUNTS WILL BE BLOCKED.

Chapter Summary: Joel and Tommy find you on their morning patrol, saving you from succumbing to hypothermia. You and Joel bond almost immediately, visiting you in your recovery. He takes your recommendation for a book you both relate to.

A/N: Howdy y’all, I’m so sorry I posted my Masterlist and lowkey ghosted :’D I went on vacation, my sweet bby cat passed away, life happened. But I finally got this edited where I want it and I hope I can keep those creative wheels turnings. Please comment and reblog if you end up liking it, it keeps me going!

Joel Vibes Playlist

Series Masterlist | Masterlist | AO3 | My Taglist

It had been a long journey, but you think you’d finally made it as you trekked across the snowy landscape. It was barely before the crack of dawn, the sky still a deep blue with scattered stars. You did your best to travel here from your previous “home”, coming across a dead traveler’s map indicating the supposed safe place.

You were exhausted, cursing to yourself that you shouldn’t have pushed your body as much as you had. But you were desperate. And scared, so tired of being scared. Traveling alone was already risky, but with your body pushed to its limit, it was twice as much.

You find your way to a clearing with some trees and bushes when you collapse. Your body had quite literally given up on you, after everything you put it through. What a cruel irony that it would be just when you’d made it to your destination.

Consciousness was becoming harder and harder to hold onto as you laid there in the snow, body too worn out to even shiver. You get one last look of the night sky as everything fades to black.

—————————————————————————

Joel didn’t particularly care for patrol, he just simply did it because he was one of the most fit for the job. Settling in Jackson meant doing your part for the community, and this became his. But over time he appreciated the solitude it provided. Once in a while there had been trouble with a wandering Infected, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

An early horse ride through the quiet mountainside outside of the town just as the sun rises ended up being a soothing balm for his aches. He’d ride alongside Tommy, sometimes engaging in conversation, but most of the time the brothers rode on in a companionable silence.

There’s something healing about being able to spend time in nature without as much fear for impending danger or survival.

Tommy was midway through his explanation for plans to head straight to breakfast upon their return when he stopped, halting his horse underneath him. “Joel, look, do you see that?” He points ahead of him. Joel stops alongside him, following his pointer finger, squinting his eyes to see better. The sun had just started to rise and cast a bright light off of the snow.

Joel finally spots what Tommy is bringing attention to, what looks like a slumped-over body in the snow. He swiftly jumps off his horse, bringing his rifle over his shoulder to ready just in case of danger. He signs to Tommy for silence with a finger raised to his lips, quietly stalking towards the body. It doesn’t move.

When he approaches the body, seeing it’s you, he sighs and signs to Tommy that it’s safe. Tommy releases the breath he held in, “what is it?”

“A girl,” Joel kneels next to you and checks you over, bringing a hand to touch your face. You’re ice cold, enough for him to at first think you’re dead. But he knows better than to assume from just that, moving his fingers over your neck’s pulse point, then reaching for your wrist. He feels a pulse. Faint, but definitely there.

“She’s alive!” He shouts to Tommy, who jumps off his horse, reaching into the satchel on its side and pulls out a homemade quilt. After making a quick look for obvious wounds on your body, Joel makes quick work of removing his top coat and maneuvers you around to wrap you in it. It’s leather and thick, something that should hopefully trap any heat it can.

Tommy’s next to Joel’s side in an instant, handing him the blanket he also uses to wrap you in.

Joel shuffles on his knees to prepare himself to lift you, feeling a twinge in his lower back that makes him groan. Tommy holds his arms out, “here I got ‘er, don’t hurt your back.”

“Nah, nah it’s fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah it’s ok, you take care of the horses. I’ got her, I don’t want to try to sling her over one though.”

“Alright.”

Tommy returns to the horses, connecting the leash of Joel’s to his. He mounts his and leads them after Joel.

Joel adjusts you in his arms, cautiously getting you into a proper position to carry you. His eyes dart all over your features, taking them in. His mind runs through all the ways they can take a shortcut back to the town and considers them. He doesn’t know how long you’ve been out here and has no idea how much time you could have.

He scrunches the hood of the blanket around your face, not completely covering it but just enough to start building some warmth. For the meantime, at least.

He stomps one foot before the other in the snow, breaking it apart with the large steps to get through. Him and Tommy head back down their trail.

—————————————————————————

You are frozen, you can definitely feel that. Your limbs feel stiff and threaten to tremble more than they could be if it weren’t for the all encompassing embrace you feel. When you start to hazily come to, you realize you’re wrapped and being carried.

Hold on. You’re being carried?

Before you can even process the entire thought, your heart rate starts to pick up. You hear your blood in your ears and bile rises at the back of your throat as panic starts to set in. Where are you being taken? Whose carrying you?”

When you open your eyes, you don’t even stop to take a look at who's holding you, you just do your damndest to wiggle out of their arms.

“Whoa, WHOA there!”

You hear a man cry out but you continue to jerk away. He fumbles his grip on you but still manages to keep you close. He kneels to set you on the ground, leaning against him.

“Hey. Heyyy, settle down now,” he says in a low voice, attempting to calm you down. With his hand that’s not underneath you, he uses it to cup the side of your face and bring your attention to him.

You stop fighting back as soon as you meet his eyes. Dark, brown eyes you become instantly lost in. They look concerned, and warm as he keeps them on yours. You start to calm down, only the sound of your ragged breathing between you.

“Hey now, it’s ok, you’re safe I promise,” he almost pleads to you, attempting further to coaxe you down. Not that you have much strength to fight back anyhow. But the look in his eyes, and the sincerity in his voice, breaks through to you. You could almost cry, it’s a miracle you were found.

“We’re taking you back to our town,” he explains, his southern accent peeking through the lilt in his tone. “We’ll fix ya up there, ok sweetheart?”

Before he can really finish what he’s saying, you’ve been pulled back into a deep sleep. You’re finally experiencing a sliver of safety since god knows when, and it’s enough for your body to relax and give in to the darkness.

—————————————————————————

When you come to, your body feels instantly thrusted into fight or flight. You open your eyes with a sharp inhale through your nose, hands clutching the bedding surrounding you. You feel a large hand quickly cover yours, holding and giving an intentional squeeze.

You look over to that side of you and see the man from earlier. He’s seated beside you, one hand over yours and the other rubbing your shoulder. It feels like he’s trying to help ground you, once again.

“Hey I’m here, it’s alright,” he practically cooes. The timbre of his voice is stern but smooth at the same time. The hand on your shoulder runs up and down your arm.

You stare back at him, speechless. Your breathing is rapid and hard to bring down, heart hammering in your chest.

“Here, just breathe with me, ok?” He starts to demonstrate to you a breathing technique, inhaling and exhaling from his nose as well, in timed increments. You do as he says and follow along, matching your breathing to his. He guides the hand he’s holding to sit flat on your belly, then reaches for your other hand to place on your chest. He gives a quick grunt of approval as he continues along with you.

After a few minutes, your rapid heartbeat and breathing subside. When he notices, one side of his mouth turns up into a grin.

You study his features as you come down, noticing his eyes once again. He looks like a gruff man on the surface, but his emotions shine bright through his eyes. His salt and pepper hair is fluffy and slightly tamed. Scruff that matches frames his jaw, save for a few bare patches. But that doesn’t take away from how handsome he is.

“There now, there ya go,” he encourages, giving your hand another intentional squeeze. “The so-called therapist in town taught me that. Helpful, huh?”

You can’t seem to muster a response despite the thousands of questions that flood your mind. You look around at your surroundings and do your best to soak it all in. You’re in a normal bedroom, in a very normal bed covered with quilts. A normalcy you haven’t seen in so long.

You notice to the side of him is a pair of reading glasses on top of a book. When your eyes meet him again, he grins cautiously as he removes his hands and leans back. You already miss the safety of his touch.

“Did you….stay with me?” You finally stutter out a question. He sits straight in his seat and nods, you can see the flex of his shoulders from how tight his plaid shirt stretches across them.

“I figured you’d want to wake up to a somewhat familiar face,” he answers with a chuckle. “You’re in Jackson, by the way.”

You lean back against the pillows, releasing a sigh of relief. You made it, you really made it. And this man saved you, almost in more ways than one already.

“Name’s Joel,” he offers. In return, you share your name as well.

His gaze on you feels comforting, the most you’ve felt from a man in ages. It’s very hard to come by that in this world.

A knock on the door startles you, causing you to reflexively grab for Joel’s hand. He allows you, wrapping your hand in his. The door opens and a woman approaches from the other side, “hey there, heard some commotion. Is our girl finally awake?”

“She sure is,” Joel responds to her. She nods in acknowledgement to him and approaches your other side, “I’m one of the town doctors, Elaina.” You snap out of your daze and respond with your name again and she smiles.

“Joel got you here just in the nick of time, any longer and you would have been in serious trouble. Mild hypothermia. After a week or so of rest and recovery, you should be just fine. Apologies for the change in clothes, I had to check for wounds. I’m sure you understand.”

“H-how long was I out?”

“Not too long since I found you,” Joel interjects. “But at least been a day.”

The more you’ve sat at attention, the more you can feel the stiff soreness throughout your limbs. You slump back into the bed and release a breathy exhale. It definitely feels like it will be some time before you’re back up and running.

Joel pats your hand and stands, “I’ll be right back.” When he rises to stand, you reach out to grab his hand back. But halfway through you realize how strange that might seem and stop yourself. But he seems to notice, and gives you a reassuring smile, “I’m grabbing you some food, I won’t be long.” You concede, “ok.”

After he leaves, the doctor places a stethoscope across your back and chest. You do as she directs so she can check you over. She tells you to give yourself about a week or so before any activity, stay in bed, etc. and to not worry.

“Now that you’re in Jackson, you’re a part of the community, the details can be worried about later,” she affirms to you. Relief washes over you. You feel so grateful to have ended up here. To have been saved. Especially to be saved by Joel.

—————————————————————————

Later, Joel returns with a tray of food. Something light, for the time being. You can’t overdo it in this state. You thank him before promptly digging in.

He sits back in the chair he occupied before, bringing his book and glasses back to his lap.

“Is that what you were doing while you waited for me?” You query, as he responds with an amused huff, hanging the reading glasses in the front pocket of his flannel shirt.

“Yeah, had to pass the time somehow,” he mutters as he takes a quick shuffle through the book pages. “Been pretty caught up in this one lately.”

He holds it for you to see the name: No Country for Old Men by Cormac McCarthy. The name seems familiar, maybe you’ve read something of his. It’ll probably come to you later.

You stop eating your food for a moment, processing the situation some more. “Thank you,” you begin to say.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replies in a voice almost mournful. Haggard from years of living in this kind of world.

“Well, I am,” you state.

You stare into each other's eyes for a few moments, not budging. His expression seems conflicted, like he doesn’t know how to receive thanks in the first place. He pats both of his legs before standing, picking up his book from your side table. “Well I best be lettin’ you rest.”

You wish you could ask him to stay, but prevent yourself from that as well. You’ve only just met the man, but even then, after only just meeting, he’s made you feel the most security you’ve had in so long. Maybe it’s the abandonment issues but your heart screams for him to stay.

You’re not sure how to respond with this whirlwind in your chest crying out for comfort. You settle with a nod to him on his way out. He stops in the doorway to give you a wave goodbye and pauses, eyes lingering on you before he finally turns to leave.

The doctor, Elaina, checks on you a few more times before leaving you to rest for the night. As much as you feel lonely, you also feel content. It’s hard to resist the real mattress and blankets that surround you. The silence is comfortable as you drift back into a proper slumber.

—————————————————————————

He returns the next morning, to your surprise again. He finds you sitting upright in bed, just after Elaina had done her morning check on you. She gives him a small smile in acknowledgment passing him on her way out of the door.

“You came back?” You questioned. He lingers in the doorway with a tray of food, eyes searching yours for silent permission to enter.

He looks down at the tray and back to you, “I figured I’d stop by after my patrol….bring you some proper breakfast.”

You’re stunned and start to become very aware of how obvious that emotion is displayed in your expression. It’s such a kind gesture, from someone who just barely met (saved) you yesterday. Worry laces his features subtly, when you notice you smile, “thank you.” His face brightens slightly, trading the worrisome facade for one of relief.

He gingerly sets the tray upon your lap and returns to the same seat beside you. A sigh of relief escapes his lips, you’re not sure if it’s from his busy morning or that he’s attained your approval. You don’t mind either way.

“How’re ya feelin’ today?” He asks, adjusting himself in his seat, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“Already so much better,” you respond as you situate the tray of food on your lap. “I keep thinking it’s a dream. I haven’t been met with kindness like this in so long.”

His face is stoic but his eyes speak volumes, full of empathy. You can tell he understands the feeling without saying it. He leans back and folds his arms across his chest as he watches you take bites of your food.

“Where are ya from?”

“Denver QZ. I came across a map with notes about here. Figured I had nothing to lose.”

“By yourself?”

“Yeah. I’ve been alone for a while.”

The conversation grows grim, nearing a tender spot. A spot Joel is very familiar with.

“That’s very dangerous, travelin’ by yourself,” he states, raising an eyebrow at you.

“It was. I’ve learned to be quiet and lie low. But I know I’m just lucky,” you sigh. You were very aware of how bad it could have gone. But self preservation is thin when you’re isolated and desperate. You don’t feel like you have to explain yourself much more in regards to that. He seems to accept it, though.

“Well…” he begins, taking your finished tray and setting it to the side. “You’ve come to the right place. Tommy’ll figure out the details.”

“Tommy?”

“My brother. He an’ I found you together, he’ll come see you himself eventually,” he continues.

“But you just worry about resting, leave to rest to us and Elaina. We’ll help you get settled in.”

You nod slowly, absorbing the new information. It’s been such a relief to have others to rely on, to finally find a community. You can’t wait for this fresh start.

You look around him, “didn’t bring your book today?”

“Ah, it’s at home. I thought about bringing it up but I didn’t know if you were going to talk my ear off or not,” he teases, giving you a half-grin.

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, “been a long time since I’ve done that, too.” You chuckle under your breath.

But as you relax back into the bed, stomach full, you feel like you could sleep forever. The satisfied feeling tempts you back to sleep, but you’re too interested in your new friendship with Joel. You wonder why such an intimidating man like himself chooses to stick by you.

“I was thinking about where I’d seen that author before, from the book you’re reading,” you tell him. “It’s been a very long time but I’ve read his book called ‘The Road’.”

You think back to when you had read the book, finding it in a pile in an abandoned library you’d stumbled into years ago. It was one of the few you’d taken.

“‘The Road’, huh?” He rubs at the scruff on his chin with his knuckles. “What’s it about?”

You give him a shrug, “well, a father and son in the apocalypse. Although a bit of a hard read, nowadays.”

Joel’s interest peaked, “father and son?”

You nod with a yawn, “But it’s honestly good, I still enjoyed it….” Your voice starts to trail off, growing more tired.

“Is that so?” He ponders for a moment, genuinely. “If I see it I’ll grab it.”

You nuzzle into your pillow with a sleepy grin as you close your eyes, “if you do…..we can talk about it….”

Joel watches you fall asleep, exhaustion finally winning over. He smiles to himself.

—————————————————————————

Joel does find the book, pretty quickly actually. When he left you to rest, he sought out the makeshift library in town. By a stroke of luck, the selection had plenty of that author. Even doubles of some of his titles. But Joel sifted through until he finally came across a copy of ‘The Road’.

He gives it a look over on his walk home, reading through the synopsis on the back.

A father and his son walk alone through burned America. Nothing moves in the ravaged landscape save the ash on the wind.

It makes him think of Ellie and Sarah. The world as it is now. He remarks on how ironic it feels to have this recommended to him, by someone who barely knows him.

He starts on it that night.

—————————————————————————

“You’re back,” you state, your eyes meeting Joel’s as he lingers in your doorway. Again, with a tray of food in his hands.

“I didn’t have patrol today,” is his only explanation he offers. You accept that, because you’ve been secretly hoping to see him again anyways.

He sets the tray in front of you as you murmur a thank you. He settles back into the seat next to you, “how are you feeling this morning?”

“Much better,” you explain. “I slept for so long, Elaina had to wake me up to eat dinner.”

“Good, I’m sure your body needs it.”

Heat threatens to cross your cheeks from that statement until you tamp it down, “do you eat?”

Joel quirks an eyebrow in response, you immediately realize how poorly the question sounded.

“I-I’m sorry, I mean, you’ve been bringing me food. I hope you’ve also been eating?”

“I do,” he shrugs. “But, it’s hard to, sometimes.”

The expression on his face is somber, something you find harder to read. But based on your personal experience, feelings like anxiety and stress can certainly do that to someone. You feel it’s best to not press further.

He reaches into his inner coat pocket and pulls out a book, laying it next to your legs, “I found you some readin’ material.”

A soft gasp escapes your lips, followed by a smile. You pick up the copy of ‘The Road’, turning it in your hands. It’s been too long since you last held a book that wasn’t at least falling apart or being eaten by mold.

You flip through the pages, marveling at the condition. It’s not brand new by any means, but it’s at least cared for. Adorned with the regular wear and tear of readers' in the past.

“I’m almost done with it,” he notes. Your heart swells in your chest. He was so quick to find and read it. You see where he’s bookmarked it, just a couple of pages from the end. There’s just nothing like the feeling of someone taking your recommendation for a book and actually reading it.

“That was so fast!” You exclaim, opening the book where he last was.

“I couldn’t put it down, to be honest.”

“You must have really like it?”

“I do, very much,” he grins. “I saw some of myself in there.”

“I love when that happens, even if it’s sad.”

You start to skim through, looking for something. He watches you intently as your fingers slide through the pages. The look on your face is satisfying to him, a twinkle returning to your eyes.

“Ah, here, one of my favorite quotes,” you begin to read the passage out loud.

‘You have to carry the fire.

I don’t know how to.

Yes, you do.

Is the fire real? The fire?

Yes it is.

Where is it? I don’t know where it is.

Yes you do. It’s inside you. It always was there. I can see it.’

You lift your head to meet Joel’s gaze, warm with a hint of sorrow. Your emotions probably match his own, in some capacity.

“It made me think of my daughter,” he admits quietly. Your smile drops, he gestures for you to hand him the book. When he takes it, he turns through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He reads the passage.

‘Each the other’s world entire.’

You remember that line. You’ve thought about that a lot. The meaning of it. You used to have others in your life like that. Loved ones lost to the beginning of the end of the world as you knew it.

He stares down at the page, caressing it with his thumb. His chest expands with a deep breath. When he looks back up to you, his eyes are glazed over. Your eyebrows turn upward in concern for him.

He jerks his chin towards your tray, “you should eat.”

You and almost entirely forgot about the food, too caught up in the moment to even feel your stomach rumble. You bring the tray closer to begin your meal, “your daughter?”

He doesn’t respond right away, which sends your stomach into a somersault. You feel insensitive for asking like that. For something so obviously personal and distressing.

“I-I’m sorry, I keep getting ahead of myself,” you stammered, launching into damage control mode. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“Don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he reassures you, his voice is tender and low. The nickname would be music to your ears if it weren’t accompanied with such sadness. But you’re so empathetic to this, you know how hard it can be to find the words. He doesn’t seem offended, at least.

Your meal is spent listening to him explain what happened, to your surprise. You’d half expect someone in his position to keep that closed off. A wound that still feels open and fresh.

But he tells what happened that day everything changed. How his daughter was ripped away from him so suddenly, her life slipped away as he held her in his arms. Cradled her long after she was gone, closer to his chest than the day she was born.

He also tells you about Ellie, how that relationship came to be. He’s more vague with this story, but you feel like you have a mutual understanding of that. You feel honored enough that he was willing to share with you. You’re happy he’s found purpose again. No one could ever replace Sarah, but Ellie became the lighthouse in the dark that he desperately needed, much to his own surprise.

It’s extremely hard to move on from something like that. It’s frightening to find new love and always fear of losing it again. It’s scary to be vulnerable in an apocalyptic world that seeks to stamp down any semblance of safety and consistency.

Food tray long since finished and set to the side, you bring the book back to your lap as you listen to him finish his story. You thumb through the pages until you find a line that came to your mind as he spoke about Sarah and Ellie. You read it out loud.

‘You have my whole heart. You always did.’

He smiles softly, cupping his hand over yours to give you a small affectionate squeeze as you hold the book. You return the gesture, opening your palm for him. His hands are large, warm and calloused. The warmth of his hand in yours is soothing.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” you comfort him.

“I don’t usually do that,” he murmurs as he brings a sleeve up to dab at the tears that say at the ends of his eyes. “Must be special.”

You smile bashfully, your eyes drawn down to your lap to avoid his gaze. You hear a low chuckle rumble from his chest.

“I regularly ask myself….if I couldn’t save my baby, the one most precious to me, what was I made for?”

You meet his eyes with tears pricking at the ends of yours, you try to convey as much empathy and compassion as possible in your eyes. Let him read them.

“You were made to love, and be loved,” you tell him, matter of factly.

His lips part in awe, rendered speechless. You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. As if he had only simply forgotten this fact.

Not him, not with his past, not with the blood on his hands, is what he almost says. You had both alluded to each other at times that you’ve both had to do things to survive this world. Most have. But you were still somehow loving, kind and compassionate. Even to someone like him. He knows how he comes across to people in town, and it’s hard to adjust and unlearn that survival habit to be brooding and formidable. But it’s also what’s comfortable, what he’s used to. It’s carried him this far in life.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes.

Divider by @saradika (I usually make sure to reblog your dividers but I wasn’t sure if I got this one so I’m tagging you here. I usually get my dividers from you but I don’t want to spam you with my fics so I wanted to let you know here at least ;3;)

[spiritsglade]

May I ask why you love Jason so much? And who's your favourite dc character after Jason and why?

okay. so. this is a very good question. everything under the cut because this got long

there's honestly a decent chance that it's because he's the first dc character whose arc i was exposed to with any level of nuance. i learned his gimmick first so that's what i latched onto. my hyperfixations do tend to do that.

beyond that, i think he's got a lot of tropes that i'm particularly fond of. i have a bit of a trend of enjoying masked characters who have a bit of a complicated relationship with death & betrayal. off the top of my head, we have corvo from dishonored, elektra from dd s2/defenders, bucky barnes from the captain america movies, my own little amnesiac oc. also bell from cod black ops cold war because i somehow managed to latch onto the character that's supposed to be a self insert as their own person. i don't know how i managed it. and no, i'm not proud of my phase of getting way too invested into the story of fucking call of duty but it did happen. anyway.

the trend with all of these characters is that they're working with a faction that don't have their best interest at heart? corvo gets betrayed twice over, elektra had amnesia post-resurrection, bucky got brainwashed, etc. they're working against people that they used to love and/or care about but it's not of their own free will (okay, not applicable in corvo's case, but it's close-ish). it's a nice little backdrop for dramatic, heartaching reveals and reunions and it's literally perfect for fix-it fics.

that was the version of jason i was first introduced to, through fanfiction. lazarus pit madness, doing what he is because of his own misconceptions of what happened after his death/manipulations from the league of assassins, etc. he slotted into the lineup pretty nicely. but then i actually watched the movie and read his comics and wow that sure is not what he's about, is it.

what he means and the kind of character he is to me has been reframed a lot in my mind over the course of those first weeks of getting into comics. i don't really know how to trace the trail back.

the current appeal is (1) his consistent suicidal ideation & how that intersects with the fact that he's already been on the permanent side of dead, (2) the irreconcilable differences between him and people who are his family, the way he hates bruce precisely because he loves him, the way the fact that they do love each other is not enough, (3) that he's a melodramatic asshole who will just say shit to get under your skin, because that part of his characterization is very important to me, (4) how he is always losing the idgaf war because he may insist that he doesn't, but that man cares too much about everything forever, (5) all-caste bullshit because essence burrowed into my brain without paying rent.

on a meta level, the way he's defined in opposition to batman, the most popular dc character forever and ever, is extremely interesting! the way his death changed the landscape of comics, how permanent it was in a medium where death usually isn't that big a deal.

anyway!! for favorite non-jason dc character: (the real answer is essence. just look through the #essence dc tag on my blog tbh. i'm skipping over her though because at this point she's more headcanon than canonical substance to me, and a lot of her appeal is in terms of how i've decided to interpret her relative to jason.)

it might be the recency bias but cassandra cain. first of all her story is tragic and devastating. the way david cain views her?? the way he crafted her from hand?? the entire living weapon concept is very very appealing. i also have to appreciate how straight up op she is & i love that they gave that sort of unchecked power to a teenage girl. yeah let's go cass!! beat the shit out of those guys!! her haterisms are also a bonus i love love love how rude she can be. girl starts her arc knowing ten words are two of them are 'shut up' and i love her for that. and then she turns around and says something like 'i can be mediocre for a lifetime or perfect for a year' and it's like i'm getting repeatedly stabbed a la julius caesar on the ides of march.

i'm only like a third of the way through batgirl 2000 but genuinely it is so good. the way she straight up doesn't care about her lack of civilian identity. bruce projects so hard onto her and he's usually right but there's also that disconnect that he'll never be able to bridge because he simply cannot conceptualize that she's like this because she killed someone. the way barbara wants the best for her so badly but just doesn't get her. those relationship dynamics are just fascinating. she's so cool. i love you cassandra cain. i'm so sorry that fanon turned you into the girl that smiles in the corner and gently deescalates things and goes 'little brother <3' all the time.

(she also looks like me a little bit so i'm having a real normal time with the projection. fun bonus to the whole thing. unfortunately if i tried to fight people up i would get my shit rocked.)

thanks for the ask, anon! sorry for how long this took. took me a little while to think things through + i like rambling forever.

[kimbureh]

In the past, I have sometimes watched series because mutuals I don't even really talk to blog about it. This way, I came to watch some interesting media. I watched the first two seasons of True Detective (worth it, especially the first), watched Chernobyl (whilst infuriatingly incorrect in places, I appreciate it as a piece of television), and now I started The Terror.

And The Terror has been a weird experience so far. For one, Jared Harris is in this one, too, and he basically plays the same role of a herald of warning like he did in Chernobyl (and seems generally prone to playing). But also, and here I might be biased since I watched Chernobyl right before, I expected a historic recount of the events. Not some... bear-dude fantasy horror. And it's incredibly off-putting. I tried to overcome my preconceptions and lean into the fantasy horror, but it's just so incredibly frustrating.

The Terror is about two British ships getting lost in the arctic. That's quite the setup, right? People fighting for survival in a place that, and I quote, "wants you dead". But apparently extreme circumstances and deadly cold aren't enough drama. Hollywood needs A Bad Guy. Therefore the crew is being haunted by a *literal* bear beast. Chernobyl applied this standard Hollywood narrative too, and ended up changing the historical facts to the degree of a blatant lie, but at least the Soviet Sense of Unity wasn't personified in some murderous bureaucrat that made everyone underestimate the radiation.

It's difficult to portray collective responsibility, and thanks to the US-influenced storytelling style we are primed to expect A Singular Bad Guy. But that's not how reality works, and therefore it's especially jarring to see this narrative device applied to real life events that are infinitely more complex than "this guy is to blame".

To Chernobyl's credit, the texts *tells* us there are more people to blame than those put on trial, even insinuates a systemic failure. But the the overwhelming majority of the series still *shows* us: look, these are the villains you've come to expect from a narrative.

[g-n-c-quoi]

oh yeah this was supposed to be an art blog. so, with @sparkbirdmusic returning to tumblr it feels only appropriate to put this here- my entry for the art contest surrounding their upcoming single mayday!, which i have only heard in bits and pieces and have already been blown away by

there is like, a very esoteric and poetic inspiration for this drawing beyond just the song itself, but if i’m being honest with myself the explanation of that would just be incomprehensible rambling, so i’m gonna put it under the cut so y’all can just appreciate the art and witness my nonsense at your own discretion

those who know me will be no doubt familiar with my fascination with symbolic language and imagery in art, especially my tendency toward the more macabre instances of it. i cannot help but find myself represented in expressions of the horror of the flesh, of having a human body, a body that cannot be saved from its own mortality. i spend what some would call an unsettling or unhealthy amount of time preoccupied with the ideas of suffering and death, and those concepts are, as a result, very present in my art.

for this piece in particular, i found myself very interested in the concept of martyrdom. lyrically, “mayday!” evokes the image of perhaps a pirate, a spy, a rogue, some adventurer going out in a blaze of glory, making a legend of their own demise:

the captain lives by the sword

and the captain loves by the sword

when the captain dies by the sword

he’ll leave you trapped in the cockpit

crying out “mayday!”

the instrumentation only serves to solidify this, with bold, sweeping orchestration and thunderous percussion building the tension of each and every line until the last gasp of the chorus. (i wax poetic about sparkbird’s music often. be grateful i haven’t yet made a habit of it on this blog.)

while i’m drawing, i often have a youtube video playing as background noise, and for much of the process of this piece, i was absently listening to a video essay by final girl studios (who i highly recommend looking into, if you’re unfamiliar) entitled “beautiful dead girls: the romanticized death of the teenage girl”. in it, she describes a platonic ideal of femininity, an archetype that we see in no small number of stories about young women: a white, frail, suffering girl, often no older than 25, whose despair is commodified for the sake of art until we no longer recognize her as human, instead choosing to interpret her as some vague “other”, alienated from all personification so that we feel no guilt or grief when she dies, because how else could her story have ended?

one such tale mentioned in the video that particularly struck a chord with me was ophelia of shakespeare’s hamlet. ophelia in particular is an especially damning example of this, because when you read her name just now, was it not her death in your mind’s eye? the picture millais paints, both literally and figuratively, is a very pretty one, but it serves only to emphasize that she is gone. in love, then heartbroken, then mad, then gone.

the tragedy of the martyr, i think, is not simply that they are dead- it is that that is all they are, and all that they must be. the sympathy, the admiration, the idolization, these are all afforded in death and death alone. why do we make legends of the ones who are lost, if only to forget the ones they leave behind who are still lucky enough to be breathing?

the sword in this painting is a gravestone, left behind in the water like ophelia. the captain is dead, but there is no glory in his demise. all that remains of him is his sword, his memory, and the despair and destruction in his wake- “trapped in the cockpit, crying out mayday!”

of course, this connection is likely just a coincidence between the drawing, the song, and the video. but it did create one of my favorite drawings i’ve made in a long time, so i suppose it can’t be all nonsense.

[plslovemeforeverandever]

Dude you have no idea how thrilled I am to find another blog that appreciates the concept of a yandere solid snake as much as I do. Oh my God just imagine him and Liquid in a yandere rivalry over the same person-

Welcome to the tiny circle of hell @bweoo and i populate :3 (they made my pfp i love it soooo much mwah)

Not sure what took you to my blog since I'm a literal nobody, but thank you for asking! That Good Yandere Mg s content is in tragically short supply both here and on ao3, though what exists is pretty good.

(You can take my thoughts with a grain of salt since i haven't finished twin snakes yet hehe. Bweoo gave me that sweet infodump)

For Liquid and Solid, their issues comes from a conflict of perspective

As we've semi-established, Solid is an overprotective type yandere. The kind of man to lend a hand unprompted when needed- whether it be a ride home, a steady hand or a warm word.

(The kind of man who lights his cigarette under a streetlamp across the street from your appartment. Keeping an eye peeled. Just in case)

Overbearing, watchful, observant, in a way the average person could never comprehend. He's lucid enough to know his actions are strange - swiping clothes from your beloved's laundry bin is hardly normal- but he cannot for the life of him pull away, helpless to escape their orbit.

Despite these acts, Snake's desperate to preserve a sense of normalcy.

His end goal is ensuring his beloved's happiness + wellbeing no matter the cost to his mind, body, and sanity. And if those costs are paid by other people uninvolved in his balancing act...no one (especially not you) needs to know

At the end of another mission, tossing and turning alone in his quarters, Solid yearns for your warm warm hands.

Liquid however, is a whole other can of crazy. A churning sea riddled with insecurity, daddy issues, and zero impulse control wrapped up in a set of chiseled abs

Where Solid is "selfess," Liquid is greedy. Where Solid is stable, Liquid is erratic. He demands every iota of your attention while denying he wants it.

Don't be fooled by his british rage, Liquid craves validation like a flame craves oxygen. He needs the addictive high of your eyes on him. Only him.

He's your world entire, after all (as you are his).

Why would your pretty little head think it needed anyone else?

Unfortunately, Liquid does not take to anyone breaking this illusion. As shown by canon, he deems violence an appropriate problem solving skill. Just last week he jammed his thumb in agent's eye socket for "flirting" (read: asking your name)n. After that, no one breathed a word in your direction.

While he's never turned that blazing heat of hatred on you, it's only a matter of time. A stray glance here or a head tilt there and his beloved might find themselves in hot water with their big bad terrorist 'lover.'

(He's not all bad, not all the time. Not in the dead of night, his arms wrapped around your smaller frame so tight you feared fusing into a single being.)

Ok I went off too long . Anyway...

Solid and Liquid's rivalry/relationship is already tumultuous, but add a common obsession to the mix and their fight would reach a fever pitch.

Solid's careful meticulous planning all goes out the window when Liquid snatches you from the compound. He sees no problem in taking - id might as well be his middle name- and claiming the ultimate prize.

Solid panics -> rushes off to save them -> spirits them from Liquid's maniacally laughing arms -> Liquid devises a way to strike back in rage -> and so on and so forth until one of them explodes.

Not to mention a good chunk of Liquid's insecurity stems from being the "inferior" twin. Losing his partner to Solid is too crushing a blow, so he fights tooth and nail to bring s/o back. Even if he has to drag you kicking and screaming all the way to his base.

Snake wants a peaceful Alaskan retirement, while Liquid wants to set the world ablaze with his beloved by his side. Obviously these futures are not compatible.

Both have a vested interest in securing s/o to "protect" them from their twin. Both see themselves as s/o's ideal lover

As for who would win? While Liquid has boundless passion, Solid and his more lax demeanour might win s/o over.

It's up to you viewers! Stay tuned maybe for other things if you want.

I'm running out of steam

(Big boss is a whole other can of worms. To me. He is a fusion of both solid and liquids best/worst traits. The snake yandere gene is real)

Hope this helped (?) Somehow. Have a good day !!!

[babyseraphim]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @emryses, thank you for always tagging me in such fun things!!

1. How many works do you have an AO3? 11

2. What's your total AO3 word count? 122,112

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I write pretty much exclusively for Dead Boy Detectives, but I have a oneshot for Marvel from 2017, and an unfinished AU for Critical Role that I'll probably never go back to

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

By Lantern's Light

my healing needed more than time

foolish flame

The Case of the Selkie's Skin

Overloaded

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do when I have the time and energy. All my free time is kind of eaten up by writing the fics themselves, so unless the comment is really long or really funny, I usually don't respond. But I appreciate every comment just the same, they are what keep me motivated to write

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I honestly don't really do fics with angsty endings? Because all of my fics are super angsty in general, so I like to end things on a positive note. I guess the closest would be The Case of the Selkie's Skin because there's not really any closure there, they just move onto the next case. But even that one still has a cathartic ending.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

foolish flame for sure. A lot of my fic endings tend to be bittersweet in some way, but this one was a pure fluffy ending

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nah. I don't think I've been regularly posting fics long enough for that.

9. Do you write smut?

I have written smut exactly once, and while it was a really cathartic/rewarding experience, I don't know if I'll ever do it again. It's a little too far out of my comfort zone.

10. Do you write crossovers?

No, crossovers aren't really my thing, though I have toyed with the idea of writing a dead boy detectives/pushing daises crossover just for the hell of it. But it probably won't ever make it onto paper.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and the idea of it kinda scares me lol

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

Literally changes day to day. I think kirk/spock is the one that will truly own my heart forever, but payneland really is the perfect ship for me (hence all the fanfiction)

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

The Case of Eros's Arrow, which is sitting with 4 chapters on AO3. I still like the concept of it, and my OCs in it, but my writing has changed so much since I started it and I just don't really feel connected to the work itself anymore. Which is a shame, because I left my readers on a total cliffhanger. Whoops.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I do alright with descriptive prose (or I enjoy writing it, at the very least). I'm also good at worldbuilding and coming up with fun/creative plots.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Transitions between scenes, and general construction of dialogue (though I've gotten better at dialogue over recent months). I can also get a little ramble-y when it comes to introspection, though I'm usually pretty good about cutting it all down by the time the final draft is done.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I don't have many thoughts on it. I only speak english, and the only language I've ever used in my fics besides english is Latin (for magic purposes).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Supernatural, I think? It was OC fanfiction, I still have it floating around this blog somewhere

20. Favorite fics you've written?

dye it all, rosary I think is my favorite right now. I don't know what the fuck I was on when I wrote that fic, but I wrote chapter 1 in one sitting, and then chapter 2 over the course of a few months. It turned out so much better than I ever could have hoped, and I just truly love it so much.

I also love my healing needed more than time because it has all the stuff that I love in it (magic, lesbians, dogs, kids, and other fun stuff to come). I'm also just really proud that I've managed to stick with it as long as I have; it's the first piece of writing over 14k that I've ever written in my life.

I tag: @many-gay-magpies, @deadtwinksdetectiveagency, @williamvapespeare, and @the-ipre!

[drawfee-ooc]

Alright drawfanz. Back from the dead because I have selfish requests.

I am (hopefully) making a (bad) Drawfee Neopets Compilation (I have no editing experience)

It’s easy enough for me to compile all the moments in their streams where they’ve drawn Neopets by scrubbing through the videos, but what I’m tasking you all with is helping me locate audio from streams where they talk about but aren’t drawing Neopets, and audio and drawing from episodes (excluding the actual Neopets episodes, I’m just going to put those in a playlist with the compilation)

No recordings necessary, just the names of streams or episodes that contain this information, timestamps appreciated but not required. Just help a girl out, I’m on a MASSIVE neopets kick right now with the new plot and I wanna compile all the lovely Drawfee bits about Karina’s pets and the rest of the Drawfolks incredulous reactions to Neopets lore.

Anything at all appreciated! (And submissions for quotes are always open! Sorry I haven’t posted in 5000 years, my document of potential quotes to post is literally just episodes with time stamps I was so bad at this when I created this blog in high school and I do not yet have a more streamlined process that doesnt overwhelm me)