#But like Branch I got off the defensive and started letting others in. i started to learn how to be happy too

[tezzbot]

I've seen quite a few people say that Branch was left alone to raise himself after his grandma died but, like, I really doubt that, because with their living situation there must have been hundreds of parents and primary guardians taken when their children were still young.

So I headcanon that there must have been a sort of, everyone was in charge of raising the kids as a collective type thing. It was just that Branch really had connection with pretty much no one outside of his family and had lost just so much already, and with him turning grey he wasn't able to bounce back like other kids his age might have been.

I imagine there was meal times he sat quietly away from everyone else, kind of picking at his food. He probably wouldn't have participated in any activities with the other kids. He just slowly isolated himself until eventually he was just left alone by other kids. Leaving any adults taking care of the groups he was in to simply worry about him, but still keep him fed and making sure he got outside at least once a day.

Maybe, like a lot of quiet kids, he took to reading. Sort of teaching himself how to survive (on paper lol). It was probably a "Well at least he's doing Something." for the caretakers lol

Then, on the night of the escape, someone would have had to have gone and got him, helped him through the tunnels, made sure that he got to the place that would become pop village, house him while he grew and began creating his bunker.

Then eventually he would become a snappy teenager, learning the the moodier he was, the more that other trolls, no matter his age or not, would begin just leave him alone.

Well GOOD, alone was what he really wanted.

...Wasn't it?

He would grump around outdoors sneering and barking things angrily at others and have his panic attacks and plans in the solitary saftey of his bunker... which Could be even safer, maybe if he just dug it down a little deeper... ten stories might just be enough... For storage that is.

He isolated himself. He made the village roll their eyes and turn their backs on him. Confirmation bias is a hell of a thing. Yes, as long as he was the one making people leave him on purpose then it was his decision not his fault

But there are likely some older trolls in the village that probably still wonder if they could have done more to prevent Branch from becoming so suddenly hateful and rude and miserable

[sergeantxrogers]

Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you

Request: "Can you please write something with the idea of y/n asking Bucky if she can tie a pink ribbon around his bicep? Thank you"

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: none, just fluff

Note: hooooly shit guys, i've been gone for way too long. hope you enjoy <3

_____

The jingle of keys in the doorknob had you lifting your eyes from your book, followed by the sound of the door opening and closing softly. The quiet whispers of a jacket being taken off, laces being untied, keys being set on the small table beside the door travelled through the apartment, meeting your ears and bringing a smile to your face.

Soft footsteps padded against the hardwood floor, careful to avoid any creaky spots.

"I'm awake, Buck," you called out softly from the comfort of your bed, and you heard him pause his movements. And then continue, a bit quicker than before.

Brown hair and blue eyes popped around the the edge of the door frame, brows furrowed. "It's midnight. Why are you still awake?"

You shrugged, sitting up in bed and setting your book aside. "Dunno, really. Got caught up reading."

Bucky frowned, and stepped into the room, walking over to the bed. "You can't sleep?"

It was a casual question, but you sensed the undertone of worry laced through it, and smiled to yourself.

"Actually, I spent most of the evening redecorating, so I'll probably start snoring as soon as the lights are off."

Bucky's hands reached for yours, grabbing them and bringing them up to his lips as he stood in front of you. One, two, three kisses along your knuckles. One hand, then the other.

"Redecorating?" he murmured against your skin, and you nodded slyly. His eyes narrowed, partially in amusement, partially in curiosity.

You cleared your throat and pulled your hands back, settling yourself back into the fluffy down of your pillows and blankets. "How was work today?"

At your question, Bucky's jaw ticked.

"It was fine."

You studied him for a few seconds, and cocked your head. "Just fine?"

He let out a heavy sigh, then collapsed atop the comforter at the foot of the bed. On nights like this, when he came home later than usual, the tension in his shoulders a bit more prominent than usual, the bags under his eyes a bit heavier, he found it hard to form sentences adequate enough to explain how he felt or what he needed.

Ever since the government cleared him of all charges and his mandated therapy ended, Bucky had taken up a job at the DCSA.

Defense Counterintelligence and Security Agency.

On paper, James Buchanan Barnes was an ordinary, ex-military security guard working for the Department of Defense and the United States.

In reality, the executive branch of the federal government reached out to him themselves and offered him a job doing what they claimed he did best: making people disappear, and making it seem like an accident. He was hesitant at first, unwilling to be the very thing he tried so hard to run away from being, but soon enough, they had made it very clear he had limited options: accept the position, or get thrown in prison for all the charges they claimed to have dropped.

So, for all his hesitating and hatred, Bucky Barnes was the United States government's own personal hitman, killing anybody who posed a threat to the life of the president, his family, or anybody in the Senate.

At least they paid better than HYDRA, Bucky had once joked. You could see, in his eyes, how much it pained him to revert back to his old ways, once again not having a choice.

Bucky cleared his throat, and glanced at you, blinking away the shadows behind his eyes.

"It's fine, sweetheart. I promise. It could have been worse."

Your heart cracked in your chest and you frowned, burying your cheek even deeper into your pillow as you looked at him. "If you say so."

Bucky pursed his lips to the side, then looked toward the door connecting your bedroom to the bathroom. Without a word, he got up, walking towards the bathroom and simultaneously pulling his shirt over his head. You smiled to yourself as you watched him disappear behind the door, flicking the lights on and letting the soft, yellow glow flood the floor of your room. You listened to him shuffle about, letting out a soft sigh as he unbuckled his belt.

His movements paused.

Your smile grew.

"Y/N?" he called out.

"Yes, babe?"

The door creaked open all the way, and behind it stood Bucky, holding his toothbrush in one hand, with a confused look on his face.

"Why is there a pink bow on my toothbrush?"

It took all your strength not to burst into a fit of giggles immediately as you schooled your face into one of nonchalance, and said, "I told you. I redecorated."

Bucky's bewildered eyes flickered from you, to the toothbrush, then back to you. Then he turned to look at the bathroom. And you saw the exact moment in which he realized there were pink bows everywhere. Big, small, light pink, dark pink, neon pink, cotton, silk, linen. A variety of ribbons tied in bows around everything you could think of: toothbrushes, toothpaste, shampoo bottles, the soap dispenser, the toilet brush, the towel rack, your skincare bottles, his deodorant and cologne.

"Y/N," Bucky said calmly.

"Yes?" you replied, batting your eyelashes innocently.

"Can you please tell me, why, exactly, you decided on redecorating with pink bows everywhere?"

You hummed, then shrugged. "You know, I'm not exactly sure. I just think they make pretty things look so much prettier. I may have gone a bit overboard, though."

"You think?"

You bit back a grin as you watched him shake his head, as if to snap him from his stupor of amusement, and bend over the sink to brush his teeth. You watched him brush his teeth, wash his face, change out of his jeans and into pajama pants. You tracked him as he turned the lights off and sighed, trudging over to the bed, exhaustion creeping into every one of his movements and pulling at him like gravity. You opened your arms wide, lifting the covers as you did so, and Bucky gladly crawled into them, nuzzling his head into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist and back.

You placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head, and let your arms come loosely around his neck. Bucky said nothing, content to lay in silence and listen to the beat of your heart as it lulled him to sleep.

After a few minutes of you silently running your fingers through his hair, you whispered his name. "Bucky?"

He hummed in answer against your chest.

"You know how I said pink bows make pretty things even prettier?"

You felt, rather than saw, his body pause at the question, and then his head was up and his blue eyes were staring into yours with a puzzled expression. "Yes... why? What's that have to do with anything?"

"Well..."

You paused. All of a sudden, you felt stupid. Bucky's furrowed brows and sleepy eyes urged you to continue.

"I have a pink ribbon under the pillow, actually, and I was... I wanted to..."

"What, honey?"

"Well, I was wondering if I could tie it around your arm."

Bucky paused, blinking up at you slowly, as if he hadn't heard you.

"My arm?"

You nodded.

"Why?"

You shrugged. "Because it's already beautiful, and I want to make it even more so."

He laid there quiet for a moment, and you were about to tell him to forget about it, but then he unwrapped his arms from around you, letting you drop flat onto your back, and shoved a hand beneath your head. Beneath your pillow.

He emerged with a baby pink ribbon in his fingers, the material pliable and soft in his grip, as he handed it to you.

"Go ahead," he said simply.

You gave him a skeptical look. "Really?"

He shrugged with one shoulder. "Why not? Did you think I'd say no?"

You fell quiet, then let out a sigh through your nose, turning over slightly to better reach his arm. His left arm.

You wrapped the ribbon around his bicep, the vibranium cold and unyielding, a stark contrast to the warm pink silk in your fingers. You looped it through, pulling it taut, then let go. You stared at it for a second, then glanced up at Bucky. Leaning in, you pressed a light kiss to the exposed metal right above the bow.

Bucky let out a shuddering breath, then laid down again, this time face to face with you. His fingers traced soft, swirling patterns against the skin of your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you closed your eyes against the feeling.

"I love you so much," he muttered quietly. "You know that, right?"

You nodded, eyes closed and a smile playing at your lips. "I know. I love you, too. Every part of you."

Bucky loosed a breath that sounded somewhat like a disbelieving breath, and you felt him lean in and press a kiss to your temple.

You fell asleep without even realizing, lulled into dreams by the steady thrum of his heartbeat and his hand stroking your hair.

[delulu-is-the-solulu-843]

Looking out for her

Abby Anderson x fem! reader

Summary: you were tired and you missed your girlfriend so safe to say you were not in the mood today. When Mel starts saying some stuff about Abby you can’t help but come to your girlfriend’s defense

Warnings: arguments, cursing, tiny bit of Mel bashing, tiny bit of Owen bashing, mentions of anxiety, I think that’s it.

-

You were not in the fucking mood today. Your knee is still hurting from your previous patrol, you woke up late so you got barely anything for breakfast, and Isaac has Abby running so ragged you’ve only seen her in passing within the last 72 hours.

You usually didn’t kind lending a hand in the medical tents, sure sometimes it got rough but for the most part it was just dealing with superficial injuries and when the little ones got sick. But today. Oh after today you just might request a permanent change. You’re usually friendly decent with Mel. It’s no secret she has something against Abby, usually it’s just snide comments you can brush off or something mumbled under her breath.

But today you came into the medical tent at just the wrong right time.

“It’s her fault you know. Owen is barely on base, he barely sleeps, he’s just he’s not the same anymore. Ever since Jackson he’s not the same. If she would have just acted like a normal person and not some blood thirsty mon-“

Slam

You slammed the canister of disinfectant on the table making Mel and the other person in the tent jump.

“What the fuck did you just say?” You asked seething.

“Nothing. Let’s just get back to work.” Mel says brushing you off.

“No. You don’t get to say shit like that and brush me off.”

“Oh? I don’t get to? What you’re going to clobber me like your crazy fucking girlfriend does?”

You can see the moment she realizes what she has said but you’re too far gone, you’re pissed and you can’t help yourself your mouth opens before you think.

“We both know this isn’t about Abby, we both know that this is about your insecurity about Owen but Abby is your scapegoat so you don’t have to realize that you’re pussy of a boyfriend who’s too afraid to step up and take responsibility for a choice her made” your eyes flick to her pregnant belly before meeting her eyes again. “Is still in love with his fucking ex. You see it and I see it the way he watches her it’s disgusting, Abby has told him to grow up and move on but no he can’t take a goddamn hint so instead of going off on my girlfriend who has tried to lend an olive branch so many fucking times maybe you need to fucking talk to Owen and get your shit together.”

The tent was silent all that could be heard was your heavy breathing as your rage dissipated, the fogginess of your mind faded and you could see the wetness gathering at the corners of Mel’s eyes and part of you felt bad but the other part of you hoped this would be a wake up call for her to realize that with Owen she’d be doing everything on her own.

You spared her one final glance before rushing out of the tent accidentally knocking into someone’s shoulder.

You head was starting to hurt, you could fell your heart racing, your hands were shaky and clammy. God you hated conflict, ironic for a WLF. You had to get back yours and Abby’s living quarters.

Abby was exhausted, she never slept well without you and all the work Isaac had her doing well she was lucky if she was able to catch a nap in the library for more than 4 hours. She was looking over some maps trying to plan the best patrol routes to prevent being ambushed by scars, when she heard hurried footsteps getting closer to her.

“Pendja!” Manny called out to her

“Pendajo” Abby responded her attention still on the maps pinned to the wall

Manny rushed around the corner and was behind her trying to catch his breath having rushed from the med tent to find her.

“You need to go get your girl.” Told her

Abby froze her mind jumping to the worst conclusions possible

“What? Why? Where is she? Is she okay?” Abby turned around quickly and manny saw the panicked look in her eyes

“She’s okay, it’s nothing like what you’re thinking.” He told her trying to calm her down from whatever she was thinking

“Her in Mel got into it in the Med tent, I guess Mel was talking some shit and your girl ripped her a new one. She rushed out real quick, rushed past me look like she was headed for your place, I’d look there first.” Manny explained

“Shit” Abby sighed under her breath, she scrubs her hand down her face and starts walking to the door

“Thanks Manny”

“Any time pendaja, go get your girl.”

Abby chuckled as she left but there was no humor behind it, she was worried she had to get to you quickly.

“Aye remind me not to piss your girl off she’s scary when she’s mad.” Manny called out to her not expecting an answer

“it was kinda hot” Manny mumbled to himself as he went to his assigned duties.

You were curled up in bed wearing one of Abby’s hoodies, you had your face buried in Abby’s pillow as you laid on your side. You were tired but you were wound up to even try and nap. You’ve never even heard yourself that angry before.

You were playing the events over in your head when you heard the open

“Baby?” You heard Abby call out worriedly

“Addy?” You called back from the bed sitting up

You heard her walking down the small steps to the bed

“There you are” she says more to herself when she sees you, the worried look on her face worsens as she see the way your cheeks and nose are red, the tear tracks on your face and the puffiness under your eyes.

“Oh baby girl” consoles as she rushes over to the bed, getting under the covers and pulling you to her so your head was on her chest. She has both her arms wrapped around you, one hand rubbing your back. She kisses your head.

“What happened today baby girl?” She asks you

You sigh “I was working med tents today and Mel was saying some shit about you and that pissed me off and I just I don’t know I just lost it and went off on her.” You tell her.

“I’m sorry Abby” you sigh

“For what? From what it sounds like you didn’t do anything wrong” Abby was confused if anyone had to apologize it was Mel

“You’ve been trying hard to fix things up with her and I ruined it for you.”

“Well if she was talking shit about me behind my back then I don’t think I’ve been fixing it to well huh?” Abby chuckles humorlessly

“Baby you have nothing to be sorry for, If anything I should apologize to you. You shouldn’t have to fight my battles for m-“

She’s cut off by your lips

“I will always defend you, no matter what.” You tell her

She gives you a small smile and kisses you again

“Let’s just lay here for now, maybe take a nap or something and then we can deal with this later, huh how does that sound?” She asks as she kicks off her shoes and lets them fall to the floor, then her pants, leaving her in her shirt and boxers.

“Hmm that’s the best idea you’ve had in days.” You tell her and you both chuckle as you roll onto your side feeling her arms wrap around you and pull you to her. Her front against your back.

With Abby with you it feels like everything might just turn out okay.

[lemony-and-zesty]

Angsty question, but how does every react to the scars? And does he ever tell them how he got some of them?

Ohhh man that’s a rough one,,

Here’s what I’m thinking!

The whole Floyd situation goes by a little too quickly for anyone to really,, acknowledge John’s scars. Like, I know for a fact that they all clock them, when they see him. But,, I think they’re a little to distracted with trying to find each other and save Floyd to say anything.

So, I’m thinkin that not long after they save Floyd and he recovers, they all confront JD about it.

Just very much a, “We’re just worried about you John, you’ve.. changed so much. And we wanna help you!”

“What? And you guys haven’t changed? It’s been twenty years! We’ve all changed!”

“That’s not what I meant and you know that!”

Que a big fight where John Dory gets extremely overwhelmed and finally can’t hold it in anymore and bursts out with, “I’ve killed people, ok? Is that what you wanna hear?? That’s what I’ve been doing!”

Dead silence.

“Is that.. how you got those then?”

…

“Not.. all of them.”

And at their silent prompting, he starts explaining his scars. Which leads to him explaining the entire situation. And his brothers are devastated.

They nearly take off to the city to try and kill the boss once JD gets to the scar on his neck.

Once the truth is out, the four become very protective over John Dory - much to his chagrin.

Can you imagine your whole deal being that you’re the oldest and you protect your youngest siblings but you never let anyone help you, and suddenly your baby brothers are jumping to your defense at any potential inconvenience - no matter how small?

————

Branch doesn’t fully forgive him - hell, she still doesn’t fully forgive any of them for leaving her behind - but she feels like she understands John Dory a bit more now.

————

Bruce is horrified that his only older brother - his best friend growing up - had gone through all this. He’s aware that of the five of them, he’s likely the one who had it the easiest, and he can’t help but feel guilty about it sometimes.

Can’t help but feel guilty for giving John the cold shoulder when they first reunited.

————

Clay has so many mixed feelings about it. Seeing his oldest brother so,,, broken, for lack of a better word,, crushed him.

For so many years, John Dory’s been this untouchable, cocky asshole in his mind. To find out that he’s not so unbreakable,, really throws everything Clay thought he knew out the window.

He doesn’t fully forgive John Dory, but he’s not so mad at him anymore.

————

Floyd is ruined by the news. Especially when he finds out about the neck scar.

He can’t help but blame himself, cause if JD hadn’t let him go then that boss never would have… God he could have died and Floyd might have never known.

“Is.. is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

Floyd cries. He cries about it a lot. He encourages John to cry as well - to varying levels of success.

He tries to make up for it, much to John’s confusion. It’s a very one-sided blaming haha,,

————

But yea, that’s the main thoughts I have for it!! Thank you for the ask 🥹

[sunsetcougar]

Lutes arm is a custom carmine special. I also hc that when Carmilla learns about the exorcists she feels bad for em. She makes lutes arm very bird like and the next day a bunch of exorcists are on her doorstep with arms full of angelic weapons. Some want to learn how to make weapons, others want to help with testing and r&d. Some are still wary cause Carmilla was the first to hurt one of them.

Of course Carmilla is a total mom and within a week she’s got em following around like ducklings.

Before they sent them to wrath the hotel was probably the only structure big enough and staffed enough to house em all. For a solid week residents would be tripping over random cuddle piles of exorcists because they’re communal and hate the idea of being isolated from each other (they were offered private rooms).

Yes!! Ok so long post incoming because (mostly via Discord conversation) Carmilla has become a very important figure in this AU and I’m going to ramble.

It started with Lute’s arm. It was clear that it wasn’t going to regenerate, she’s an amputee permanently. It was Vaggie’s idea to ask Carmilla if she could make a prosthetic incorporating angelic steel.

Carmilla was incredibly wary at first, she did kill an exorcist and seeing how defensive they could be of each other she was scared of the possibility that they’d target her for what she did. But Vaggie convinced her and she and her daughters created an arm for Lute. Due to the nature of it, there is a connecting joint implanted in Lute’s shoulder, but her enhanced healing let her bounce back from that quite quickly. The prosthetic can be taken on and off, save for that implanted part.

Seeing the success of Lute’s prosthetic the next exorcist to approach Carmilla was Waffle. He (he’s trans masc) lost the tip of his right wing in the hotel battle and has been grounded ever since. Despite knowing that Carmilla killed Stabitha (as she’s been dubbed) he was willing to risk visiting her without Charlie and Vaggie’s protection on the chance that she could help him fly again.

That prosthetic was not easy to make and he requires a counter weight on his left wing to even him out, but the Carmines managed and Waffle was over the moon.

After Waffle showed off his prosthetic the other exorcists who’d been disabled and/or permanently injured by the battle quickly followed the example and went to Carmilla, requesting more custom prosthetics, braces, and various other aids. (Cygnus a cane and leg brace, Nyx a knee brace, Brick a cane, Flour an elbow and wrist brace, etc).

This new found comfort with the Carmines prompted more social visits, and exorcists like Lull quickly found a place helping them test out their designs. (Lull and Odette got banished to one of the factories on the edge of the Carmine’s territory after a bit to much structural damage). And while Carmilla ends up being a mom to the whole flock, she fully adopts an exorcist named Bishop. (If people want to know about them I’ll make another post.)

Carmilla ends up opening a branch of her business dedicated to medicine and hell steel prosthetics and aids for sinners and hellborn who may not be able to afford something of the same quality from Sloth. This gives her financial security with the loss of angelic steel supply, and expands her influence both in and out of the Pride ring. Long story short, Carmilla’s compassion and ability to love others (rare among sinners) is what causes her to become the single most powerful Overlord in Pride.

Ok ramble over! I’m ending it here because this is getting really long and there’s honestly a small essay worth of things I could add.

[eugeneplace]

seeing as your answering questions about your world domination au how did each bro react to poppy and ramon(branch)?

is cooper part of the world domination team and if so, how does the funk family react to cooper?

You're not going to stop asking for family drama, are you?

You have my respect, dude

Okey so... I think it's important to note that it was Poppy who invited Ramon's brothers to the tour. She wanted them to sing at the wedding (after transforming them into zombies, of course) and she thought that Ramón would like the surprise!

Haha... He did not

And he liked it even less when he found out that Poppy sent them a fucking ransom note

IN HER DEFENSE! She thought that the relief of knowing their little brother wasn't actually kidnapped was going to put them in such a good mood that they would forget how much they hated each other!!

...Back on topic-

When the brothers first found out that Bitty B was alive, before knowing about the kidnapping, their first reaction was very emotional. Toño (Bruce) hugged the messenger and Floyd started crying.

...Jonh Dory just grabbed all the weapons he could find. He armed himself to the teeth to go on the Baby Bro Rescue Mission.

Clay too, but more discreet. Because Viva was also coming and she couldn't conceive the idea that her baby sister had someone hostage just for a concert.

Anyway, those two were going, like- full violence to meet the sister-in-law

It's hard for me to imagine Toño and Floyd as fighters. I mean- One is a family man and the other a party animal, I can believe a fist fight, but I don't think they have an arsenal in theirs houses (I don't think Floyd even has a house)

But yeah, those two definitely got bloodthirsty when they found out lil bro was in danger

They didn't recognize him at first- I mean, yeah, they saw him first with the bird skull mask thing- but even when he took it off it took a while. The eyes ended up gaving it away.

They tried to hug him, obviously, but Ramón wouldn't let them. In fact, it was Poppy who welcomed them with open arms and a smile. Because of course she was very happy! Imagine it: your favorite band are going to be yours brothers-in-law AND your long-lost sister showed up for your wedding! AAA-

So yeah, at first they didn't notice anything wrong with Poppy. Yes, the whole 'tricking them into coming' was weird, but at least she wants them to be there! And Poppy gave them a chance to try to talk to Ramon!

She invited them to stay for dinner (because they ended up arraving at the mobile castle at night time (she came out in her pajamas, Ramón did too but he put his poncho over them))

Besides, they had more important things to worry about. Like the whole grandma got eaten, Ramón is gray and he hates them.. and is about to marry the goddamn Queen of Pop situation

It's only when in the middle of the dinner that Ramón blurts out the whole "we're planning to conquer the world and kill a lot of people" thing that she takes off her mask. They end up knocked out and locked in the dungeon.

[bluetortoist]

Showing off another Batman OC. This time, its my own Alice. I know. So original 🙄 but I can't help myself. She's a very accomplished chemist who crossed paths with Mad Hatter and later on became his lover.

(More info of her down below! History kind of dubious, be warned)

Name: Alice (real name: Eleanor Carole)

Nickname: Alias "Dear Alice"

Age: 30

Gender: Cis Female

Identifies: Demisexual

Race: Human

Ethnicity: White

Nationality: American

Birth town: Lansing, Michigan

Current Living: Gotham City

Allegiance: Chaotic Neutral-Lawful Evil

Powers/Abilites:

• Being a chemist, she has experimented and perfected two different formulas to mutate one's body to grow bigger or smaller. They can be ingested as is, or injected/mixed in with various ingredients. She uses this as both a defense (Bigger) and stealth (Smaller) strategy. However, she can't use it too much or else has negative effects on the body.

• She has a few versions of long armed, Horse's Hammer formed in the shape of a pink flamingo, one heavy, the other light; It, no doubt, causes pretty hefty damage.

• Even though she has become more physically strong since working with Tetch, she still only knows basic self defense and fist-fight combat, but has always (and always will), kept a knife on her body since moving to Gotham.

History: Eleanor was born into a family of domestic abuse but doesn't remember too much from that time other than that they were clearly unhappy together. Luckily, she didnt get to experience that environment for long because both her parents died in a car accident when she was 4. She was sent to live in an orphanage until she was 10 and was adopted to a family of doctors and physicians. It was through them she found her interest/obsession with chemistry. Even though they try, Eleanor rarely get to see both her parents at the same time since both had conflicting work schedules at the time, and spent a good chunk of her school years making and losing friends and putting more effort in her hobbies. This was about the time (10-13) her emotional detachment problems for people started to develop. Graduated top of her class with her Chemist degree, no friends, but got a boyfriend in a one-sided relationship. They started living together once they moved to Gotham. Got a job at a chemical reasearch facility that was a branch of Wayne Labs, but wasnt that well liked; was considered a "cold genius" among other coworkers. Decided to go see a therapist to help with herself as well (much to her boyfriends chagrin). Both those took all of her time that it was putting a strain on her relationship with her boyfriend. Somewhere around this time was when she was feeling at her lowest and also when she met Jervis and soon became friends (whom she already knew was the Mad Hatter). She begun seeing him a lot more after venting her personal and emotional troubles to him (quite literally saying that she wishes she was born as someone else) and he suggests his own kind of hypnosis therapy to help bring feelings up to the surface, all while conditioning her into a version of Alice. She consented to this kind of therapy, desperate to feeling anything like any sort of person at this point. (Basically: delusional man teaches girl how to manifest a new persona to actively dissociate 💀). This continues on and eventually (and quickly) start to form a relationship. The boyfriend, already pissed enough, already suspects she is seeing someone else. Confronts her one night about it, says hes kicking her out and almost turns into a fight, but she manages to beat him unconscious in self defense. In a panic, she runs right back to Jervis, and he offers to let her stay. He goes out and kills the boyfriend himself before finding out the boyfriend had made a report on her to the police. She stays in hiding for a couple of weeks afterwards. In that time, she and her Alice persona has become one in the same and doesn't even remember her old name anymore and only small bits of her early life. Alice finally felt like a person, regardless of whether those feelings were in the right place or not. They were at least real and her own now, Jervis/Hatter was real, and she can finally say, without faking, that she loves both of them for it. It wasn't until later on in the future that Hatter and her got involved in a criminal incident that she decided that she would need to protect herself and her precious Hatter (much to his dismay, not wanting her to get involved at all, but was pushed to believing its for the best). She started learning how to use weapons and self defense and creating more of her own chemical formulas inspired by Alice in Wonderland. She eventually started gaining a name for herself as Hatter's lover, right hand, and mad genius chemist, "Dear Alice"

Notes/Quirks:

• She has two snaggletooth upper-canines and a small birthmark on her upper right cheek.

• She used to have a therapist she would go to to help with her apathy and general difficulty with forming attachments with other people, due to some emotional damage back in childhood.

• She used to volunteer to read to children at her local bookstore. It was something for the community that her therapist encouraged her to do to help interact with other people. It was the one thing she missed before going to crime.

• She has never read a lot of classic children's books as a child, including Alice in Wonderland until it was suggested to her for her next book reading. Thus, how she will soon meet Jervis Tetch.

[scaryman-fancam]

The untapped potential that is the ship Revhound is fucking crazy guys, please hear me out

Revhound (Revenant x Bloodhound) Headcanons/Drabble!!

warnings: canon typical violence, blood, suggestive themes

- Let’s say all prior Revenant headcanons I’ve listed are correct in this scenario. Like, Revenant does have an extremely accurate sense of smell, can smell fear, blood, etc., right?

- Bloodhound’s whole thing is being a tracker. Revenant, the perfect assassin. Putting them against each other creates an interesting game of hunter vs. hunter.

- I imagine that they would definitely hold some sort of respect for one another. They’re both aware of each other’s reputation, and both believe the other is a bit of wasted potential. Bloodhound thinks Revenant could be just as perfect a tracker as them, if not even better, while Revenant believes Bloodhound could do with a little more aggression and durability.

- With Revenant’s Forged Shadows, he can afford to push hard on a target once he’s got them where he wants them. Bloodhound doesn’t have this sort of ability, but they could certainly benefit with some sort of training, perhaps? Withstand defensive attacks a little better and push harder, and if only Revenant had some way to practice putting his heightened senses to use…

- They can help each other train, maybe. Run away to a heavily forested area with crazy terrain, start off miles from each other. Bloodhound shows Revenant how to utilize his keen sense of smell to track, while Revenant forces Bloodhound to push themselves further every time.

- It’s truly vicious. Primal even. At first, Bloodhound does well to evade Revenant, to lure him into a space where they have the upper hand. After a weekend, Revenant has already found his groove in these new skills. Tracking down Bloodhound is the easy part. The chase, the fight, is where things get interesting.

- Revenant is unrelenting. Doesn’t need air or water or rest for weary muscles. Bloodhound is brought to their very limit and forced to take the leap, hoping to catch on something and learn to carry on even when their body aches. Learn to know when it’s time to turn and fight.

- They goad each other into becoming the (best? Worst? Most terrifying?) versions of themselves. Weekend after weekend when they’re not scheduled to play in the games, they’ve run off to train. It becomes more than routine. It’s instinct. The thrill of the hunt, the blood, the dirt and the metal shavings left on thorns and discarded axes, the familiarity of one another, the bond of finding one another, and fighting until the other gives out, only to give mercy in the last second. They can’t kill one another, no, then the fun will end.

- They’re constantly adapting to one another. Bloodhound leaving a trail of brittle leaves and branches, only for Revenant to learn to stalk quieter over them. Revenant climbing into trees above to try and get the drop of Bloodhound, only for them to begin spotting the crude marks of metal claws on the sides of trees from far away.

- Revenant feels alive. Bloodhound explores a brutal side of themselves, becoming more aggressive just to be able to match the simulacrum. They need these getaways like they need blood in their veins or coolant in his system. The games are too impersonal, too safe for live broadcasts for thousands of fans watching. It’s private when they’re away, it’s sacred, it becomes a second home, or rather a true home in comparison to the cots back at headquarters, or the living spaces provided by the games.

- It could become something more. Defeat and victory after a bloody battle with promised mercy, boundaries that are never crossed for the sake of doing this dance again and again. Admitting defeat at each other’s hands becomes allowing victory in the arms of one another. It’s an odd form of trust, allowing each other the privilege of beating them down until they’re within the last stretches of consciousness.

- Suddenly recovery isn’t spent alone, the trek back to headquarters and silence in their rooms. It’s staying a little longer in the privacy of abandoned buildings and crowded forests, tending to the wounds inflicted upon each other. Revenant’s hands coated in blood are the same hands that dress Bloodhound’s bloodied limbs; Bloodhound’s finger tips grazing the metal of Revenant’s form, searching for the last few bullets and thorns.

- Bloodhound learns the ins and outs of this simulacrum, having partially disassembled him to remove a splintering branch. Learns that he can feel, not just pain, but also tenderness. They learn that the feather light touches and gentle pressure earn sounds akin to purring, those burning yellow optics flickering and dimming. Revenant doesn’t sleep, but he can remember the comfort of soft sheets and a warm bed, a safe place to dream when he finally accept the embrace of his rival.

- Revenant learns that same tenderness. Hands crafted to be efficient blades can sooth the cuts they dealt. The cool, blunt, metal finger pads learn the pressure that eases bruises. His prize for winning today is the honor of cradling Bloodhound rather than the reversal. He doesn’t know when it became a prize, but victory was no longer as simple as the rush of pride when Bloodhound landed in a bloodied, exhausted heap. Victory was the sweet reward of seeing the other so vulnerable and trusting. Trust the other not to finish them off in a secluded place. Trusting the not to leave them to fend for themselves. They knew the weakest points of each other, how to take apart and put back together one another.

- Revenant learns what’s under that mask- the goggles too. Bloodhound finds every latch and groove in the metal of Revenant’s form. They know each other’s skin better than their own. It’s only a matter of time before they’ve memorized one another inside and out. The hunt, the chase, the battle, the recovery; they become a courting ritual. Proving that they’re worthy of one another, with violence and tenderness, with warm blood and cold metal.

[theclementinediaries]

Citrus

pairing: schneider x gen!reader

summary: you and schneider were childhood friends but you two lost contact after her and her family moved to the states. Now, several years later, you moved to Chicago during the Golden Age of America, hoping to finally land your big break, and are reunited with your long lost best friend schneider.

“Ahh, Y/N, you know you’re really bad at this. You should try to be more careful” Schneider said, her eyebrows rising in amusement seeing you desperately clinging on to a tree branch in an attempt to pick off the oranges from the tree.

You tightened your grip around the branch, your breath hitched at the thought of what would happen if you let go. You gulped hard as you looked at the ground beneath you, even though everything inside of you told you not to, that it was a bad idea, and that it would only frighten you more. And yet you couldn’t help but doing so, for your curiosity always got the best of you.

You supposed that’s how you ended up in this situation right now, your body dangling off a frail branch that could easily break at any moment in a lousy attempt to pick off some oranges from the highest tree, when a simple ladder would have suffice just fine.

"I am being careful, I'm not going to fall...AHH!" Just as you were saying that you weren’t going to fall, you leaned into the branch a bit too much, causing it to break off from the tree and taking you with it.

“Y/N!” Schneider ran towards your still body that laid on the hard ground. You groaned in pain as you tried to lift your head up, but it only made matters worse. Still, you attempted to flash Schneider a small grin to ease her worries, even if meant ignoring the pain that was making your sides ache.

“I guess I spoke too soon” You groaned. “W-when is your sister coming back?” Gripping onto your sides as you spoke.

Seeing as you were okay enough to crack jokes, Schneider let out a sigh of relief, and wrapped her arms around your back, as you got back on your two feet.

“Sorella mia should be back any minute now, just hold on a little longer, okay?” Schneider answered, making sure that you were alright.

“Tell me, why do we need to pick oranges off the tree again?”

“Mamma and Papa said it’s donations for the church. I thought I told you this?” Schneider replied.

You gave her a solemn nod. The pain was starting to lessen by the minute, but it still hurt when you tried to do quick movements.

“Oh, right, right…” You mumbled.

The church is a big part of your life, it’s where you were baptized, where you met Schneider and all your other friends, where you first met God. Safe to say that the church holds a special place in your heart, filled with memories and joyous laughter, so when the high priest asked the community for food donations for the needy, you immediately jumped at the opportunity.

“I guess that fall really did a number on you huh?” Schneider teased, giggling to herself when you turned bright red.

“Hey! I didn’t forget, I just didn’t remember!” You shot back, instantly regretting the words that came out of your mouth once you heard how contradictory it sounded.

Schneider let out a laugh at your defense, and while you felt like you should have been mortified that the laughter came at your expense, strangely enough it didn’t. It was as if the sound of her laughter quelled you from becoming more embarrassed.

And as you looked down at her, her face scrunched up from laughing so much that tears were starting to fall, and how her arms were still wrapped around you, even though you could no longer feel the pain, and were perfectly capable of standing up on your own two feet without assistance, for some reason, you didn’t want her to let go.

You always had an attachment towards Schneider, whether it be because of her personality, her charm, or her charisma, you weren’t quite sure. What you were sure of though, that these one-on-one moments between you two, moments where she wasn’t pulled away by her older sisters or parents, moments where the teacher couldn’t intrude, moments where the other kids at school couldn’t interrupt, moments where even the church, —a place where you felt safe and loved— couldn’t come in between you two either, were your favorite moments with her.

“I’ll race you back to the church! Loser has to tell Suora Mia that we didn’t get any of the oranges!” You shouted before sprinting off, not paying attention to Schneider’s cries of protest.

“Ah, wait up Y/N, I’m coming!” Schneider shouted, running close behind you, not wanting to be left back behind. Even after being lectured by the nuns once you reached the church, the laughs of sheer joy and glee you two shared was something that you’ll never forget. Forever engraved in your brain is this joyous day, where the only thing that you had to look forward to was orange picking, and you couldn’t have had it any other way.

—————

10 Years Later

Chicago, 1929

The smell of alcohol and smoke filled the air of the speakeasy, along with laughter of businessmen in their haughty suits. The dim lighting gave the bar an atmosphere that you were sure you didn’t belong to.

Nevertheless, you were smacked right in the middle of it, with nowhere to go to escape, in hopes you would get even just a smidge of taste of what the ‘Greatest Country in the World’ would feel like.

“Why am I here again?” You thought tirelessly to yourself, as another fight between two drunk bastards broke out next to your table.

That was the question that kept you up at night, and whilst you knew the answer to that question was the rising economic boom, but for the few years that you have lived here, were undoubtedly the most lonely and depressing years in your life. With no family, no friends, no one to share a meal with, what good can money do if there’s no one to share it with?

At one point in your life, you were somebody. You had people, a community of people, that you cared for and cared about you, sure money was tight at times, but you were happy, you were loved.

Now nine years later, you’re at The Walden, the most prestigious speakeasy in all of America, sitting in between a drunk, a bastard, and a tramp, hoping that somehow, someway, you’ll find someone, anybody, to spend an evening with, but instead the only thing that’s been keeping you company is the whiskey drink in front of you.

As you were about to fall down a rabbit hole of unwanted thoughts, a sudden voice them. You looked up from the table, you saw a lanky pale man with short black hair and glasses starting to present the ‘appetizer’ of the night, as he calls it.

What was his name, Forget Me Not, was it? Truthfully, you didn’t know much about him or The Walden for that matter, other than the fact that he dabbled in arcanum, something that you weren’t a big fan of either.

“Let’s welcome our fighter of the year! The defender of the undefeated honor of knocking out ten consecutive arcanist and human challengers!”

Your jaw dropped to the floor once you saw the woman who was presented on stage. She was short and petite, was holding a pistol in her hand, and was wearing a loose fitted feather dress that reached her waist. She looked so similar to your childhood friend, Schneider, that you had no doubt in your mind that it was her.

But what stood out to you the most was her eyes, it no longer held the same innocence and childlike wonder that it had before, no, it looked like the light was taking out of them, leaving nothing but a playful look in her eyes that was deprived of any real feeling or soul behind, the eyes of a tiger daring it’s prey to come forward.

You hadn’t seen Schneider since that fateful day at the Orange Farm, where you climbed a tree and fell from its branches, in a lousy attempt to show off. But that was before everything changed, before the War ended, before Schneider and her family left Sicily, before hunger and poverty broke out in your own home and community, before the rise of arcanum and arcanist.

“The fate of this challenger would be chosen, we let the spotlight decide”

Too engrossed in your own thoughts, you failed to register the rest of Forget Me Not’s sentence, let alone the shining spotlight that was looming over you.

“The spotlight has chosen, we have a winner”

That seemed to snap you back into reality, finally noticing the bright light above you. Amongst the hundreds of eyes that were staring at you, seizing you up, sneering at you in full contempt and disgust, or were cheering you on, your eyes gravitated towards one person and one person only.

“Hehe, long time no see, Y/N” Schneider chuckled unlike you, she looked completely calm about the whole ordeal, dare you say, even amused at the sudden turn of events. It was the same kind of amusement she had when you stubbornly climbed up a tree, only this time, it lacked the warmth it had when she was younger.

When you finally regained the ability to speak, you asked desperately. “Schneider, what’s going on? What’s happening?”

There was so many questions running through your head, so many things you wanted to say to her but were never able to. But most of all, you just wanted to know why.

“It seems like you two are already acquainted with one another, how delightful! That makes this much more easier” Forget Me Not commented. You felt your skin shiver at his words. Just what exactly did he mean by that?

“But for the people who don’t know, let’s get the introductions out of the way. Here we have, Schneider, the defending champion of last year, and a human from Sicily, Y/N”

The crowd cheered once he was finished but you couldn’t help but feel sick once he was done, just how did he get your information? There was so many questions going through your mind, most of them spawning more questions than answers.

“I do wish we reunited in different circumstances, but fate has spoken. I do hope once this is all done and over you can have it in your heart to forgive me, okay, Y/N?” Schneider said in faux innocence. Though her words seemed sincere, nothing about her tone or her expression sounded sincere or kind at all. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

Your stomach dropped at the implication of her words. Was she seriously going to kill you? Sure, you two hadn’t seen each other in a decade, but at one point in both of your lives you were inseparable. Conjoined at the hip, as your mother would say. Has she really forgotten about the time you two spent together or does she simply not care?

The sadistic smirk she wore. And the way she was taking such great joy from how uncomfortable and confused you were told you everything that you needed to know.

The person before you was not the same person that you knew all those years ago. What exactly happened during the past ten years that caused her to drastically changed? Was it her family? The mafia? Arcanum? The Walden? The church? You don’t know, and as she pointed her gun at you, firing bullets directly towards your chest area, you realized that you’re never going to know.

“Schneider-”

Pap.

[that-ari-blogger]

Conflict!

It is often said that "conflict drives a story" and while that is mostly true, it isn't helpful writing advice. It's just an observation. A story is about a character wanting to do something, and their struggles to do that are the conflict, that's where the conflict stops. You don't need antagonists or villains or fights or even arguments in a story, you just need stuff, and conflict will arise.

Essentially, conflict brings about character by putting individuals in unusual situations and showing off facets of them that aren't usually on display.

But what happens when two characters are in conflict with each other? Then (if the writing is decent) you get an emotionally dense few moments, and in a musical, you get a song like Old Wounds.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

This isn't a long song, and there aren't that many branching paths (you get two choices in the entire song). But there is a lot going on here, emotionally speaking.

I noted in another post that Persephone is heavily associated purple. And that remains here, although it has softened slightly as you have got to know her to a more maroon-ish palate.

Appollo is also associated with a colour, that being blue. As in, he's the sun and the blue that surrounds him is the sky. Hence why this shot is so cool:

It's Grace literally having to choose between her two allies. Also notice what is happening. The blue light is shining over a plant, helping it to grow, while the pink shows an image of Calliope. It could be a photograph, it could be a painting, I'm not sure. The blue represents the future, while the purple the past.

Also, Persephone has an image of somebody she knows looking regal in her office. Why does she have this? What is the history between these two? (Historians will say they were good friends)

Anyway, what are these two characters arguing about? I mentioned conflict, and there is definitely some here, but what is it? The two of them just start bickering out of nowhere. And that's exactly it. Apollo picks fault with Persephone's wording, then they call each other blind, then the real wounds come out.

What's interesting here, is that Persephone has been established to have an old wound, Hades, and this song explores it. But Persephone doesn't engage this, Apollo does. Apollo is the one who starts the fight. Why?

Guilt. In my reading of this song, Apollo is playing incredibly defensive here. He has accepted his guilt and his need to change earlier in the story, at least verbally. But when push comes to shove and the consequences of his actions come into play, he immediately lashes out verbally.

And it's what he takes issue with that piques my interest. Persephone has rationalised that people deserve what they get, actions have consequences. Apollo doesn't agree with that.

Then there is this shot. As the two of them bicker and talk over each other, the camera swirls and the colours that represent them become intermingled, a neat little metaphor for the difficulty of this situation. And above Grace's head, forgotten by both of them in this moment, the reason they are both here, and the consequences for both of their actions.

"You abandoned me to a terrible fate." "You replay your injuries till it's too late." "This is not about you"

Here, the theses of both characters. One is stuck in the past; one is avoiding it. One is trying to grow away from the past without truly reconciling with it, the other has rationalised in a way that is self-destructive. Neither can move forwards without the other, there is a balance that needs to be struck.

What strikes me, however, is how similar these two characters are. They use the same insults for each other, they believe extremely similar things. When we met Apollo, Phantom Pains was almost exactly Persephone's current viewpoint. That's why they are so irreconcilable. These are two characters with some deep self-loathing issues who see themselves in their opponent. Specifically, they see the worst parts of themselves. Guilt, loss, anger.

That's what this conflict is about, looking to the past or looking to the future. Grace needs to take a middle road, but she can't because these two can't get over themselves. That's why this final choice is so difficult, because they are both so right, and both so very wrong.

Previous - Next

[typhoons-mess]

On The Edge Sneak Peak

Here is a sneak peak of a story an anon requested. Really excited to show this off soon. This is a Dagur X AFAB Reader

Authors note: Also, if you would like to be tagged in any Dagur content I do please let me know!

[Update 9/29/2024: My hyper fixation is pulling me back in-hopefully I’ll actually work on it since I got two stories going at once!]

It felt good being back to the edge after that strenuous training session, as Hiccup would put it. He’s been focusing more on accuracy to make sure we all can hit Vigo’s ships since the double in the last few days. We can’t afford to fail. Astrid landed next to me and dismounted Stormfly landing her feet on the hard wood beneath us. “Well, that session could have been worse.” She sighed out moving a piece of hair out of her eyes.

Letting out a snort as I patted my dragon. “Yeah. The twins could have accidentally set Snotlout on fire from their terrible aims.” Astrid shoulders shake from her laughing.

We continue our chatter as we head down to the ‘hall’ to have dinner with the others. Taking a seat in between Heather and Snotlout we all dig into our meals as Tuff tells us another one of his jokes. “-But somebody better explain how Yak stew got into my pants!” Hitting his palms on the table as he laughs hysterically. The others around laugh as I cover my mouth to contain my chuckles, even Hiccup joins in.

“Hey! Speaking of soggy pants, you ever wonder what happened to Dagur and his crazy pants?” This makes everyone stop laughing and give a confused but stern look to Hiccup’s inquiry. The though of someone mentioning Dagur makes me choke on my drink, which prompted Heather to look my way.

Back on Berk when we were younger, first time Dagur arrived, me and Hiccup were playing together by the cliff sides. Dagur asked if he could play with us, and of course we both agreed since he was a guest. It was nice to have someone different than Hiccup to play with, even if he was a bit rough. One time we decided to race, by choice of Dagur of course. We would run all over the village with Hiccup being in last and Dagur and I running head-to-head with each other leaving the small boy behind. Turning the bend to go into the forest I remember tripping over a branch and scraping my knee. Looking down at the tore in my pants I can see scratches start to weep some specks of blood out. The strangest thing happened though. It was the first time I ever saw Dagur-well concerned for another living being.

“Look your f-fine! Just stop crying and-just here!” He tore off a piece of his clothing and wrapped it around the small wound as I wiped the tears from my eyes. It seemed hard for him to find the right words to comfort me. Looking up at him he blushed as he held out his hand for me to take, lifting me up off of the foliage. Seeing that I was now ok he stomped away as Hiccup came around the corner, panting as he stopped next to me.

“What-what happed?” He asked out of breath.

“I have no clue.” Puzzled I watched as Dagur stormed off to the great hall.

I whipped my mouth as Ruff slightly turns her head to look at Hiccup. “No not really.”

“What brings Dagur up anyway?” Fishlegs says looking puzzled as he puts down his second piece of Yak.

“Nothing!” Putting up his hands in defense,”-but since were on subject of Dagur now-uh-do you ever wonder why he helped Heather escape form Vigo?” Hiccup questions looking at all of us.

“Probably to make a distraction so he could escape himself.” I chimed in wiping my mouth as Astrid nodded with what I said.

“Maybe. I don’t know-“Heather raises her eyebrow in question, “-but was if it was actually the first step toward a new life.” We all tensed up knowing that this would cause an outburst with Heather.

“Hiccup-“I try to warn him to not bring it but got interrupted with Heather slamming her fist down onto the wood of the table.

 “A new life? Dagur? A dragon doesn’t change its marking Hiccup.” The force from the hit knocking her drink onto her lap and mine. Fishlegs tries to intervene with knowledge of some dragons who can actually change their markings.

“You get the point!” She says looking down at her axe in frustration.

“Well, you are probably right, but look at Stoick! Who would have thought he would have ever learned to ride a dragon. I mean it could be possible that he’s changing.”

“Y/N’s right. Y-You never know, next time we see Dagur- “

“I’ll SPLIT THE FATHER KILLER IN TWO!” Slamming her axe into the table right beside her, splitting into into two.

We all stared in silence for a good minute. Afraid saying anything else might make that axe split one of use into two. “Yep. Ok. I-I think we get your point.” Hiccup says a bit frightened like the rest of us. Noticing the thin tension, she makes her way to the door of the clubhouse. “I better go I have island patrol tonight.”

“Actually! I will take that. I have a way more important mission for you and Snotlout! It’s-uh-one final recon mission to check out our target”

“What are you talking about? We went last time.” Snotlout as confused looking between Heather and Hiccup. “I know, that’s why I’m sending you two again to be one the lookout for any last-minute changes. And you should leave. Tonight.”

“Tonight?!” Shouts Snotlout.

“Jeez Hiccup. Are you trying to get rid of us?”

“Yes-NO no that’s crazy why-why would I- “

Heather chuckles, “I’m kidding Hiccup. Relax. Come on Snotlout sooner we leave, the sooner we get back.”

“Take your time! And by that, I mean be safe!” He sighs looking back to me and Astrid. We both look at each other puzzled as to what was going on in Hiccup’s head.

When we all left to go to our respected huts for the night, me and Astrid headed out together. “Something seemed off didn’t it. ”Astrid looked puzzled as she asked me. “It could he is just nervous about what’s going to happen soon.” I shrug. Looking at me she mimics the same response, “I guess you could be right.” I give her a sympathetic smile and I put my hand on her shoulder. “It’ll be alright Astrid. We just have to trust him.” She looks at me and chuckles. As we near our huts we bid each other goodnight and headed inside. Even though I trust Hiccup something did seem off. He never mentioned Dagur this much before. But that could be thought more tomorrow as I sluggishly made way straight to my comfortable bed.

Tomorrow.

I can ask him questions tomorrow.

[teecupangel]

*Jumps through the window* Desmond after sacrificing himself is thrown into the time of Bayek (Maybe like a Yew Branches?). Maybe because of Issue technology or some bug of the Eye he becomes immortal and is know by the assassins as this hooded figure of the legends. There are record of people that saw him at the important moments for the brotherhood or is mentioned to give some forgotten knowledge or advice to people...... i just want people to think that Desmond is this badass figure in brotherhood history, when in reality he is sweating his ass and is full chaos mod.

*Jumps out of different window*

*stares at the only window in their room wondering how the hell nonny was able to fit thru that*

*rummages all over the blog for that specific ask that does have immortal!Desmond in it*

*search of immortal or mask does not yield the ask*

*ask for help from duckduckgo instead of tumblr’s sucky search bar*

Lo and behold!

Immortal!Desmond ask that I answered using sorta-kinda Outsider POV

He’s more or less deitified in that ask so it’ll be super funny to think that he’s making such a big impact in history and is known as an absolutely powerful figure and they all think he’s cool but, in reality, he’s flying by the seat of his pants.

Oh, don’t get him wrong.

He had sorta an idea of what to do.

But that’s because he went to Altaïr first and Altaïr felt both sorry for the fact that he has no idea what to do and annoyed by the fact that he has no idea what to do so the two of them spent most of their time just planning Desmond’s next moves for the next 600 years or so. 

Then Ezio came along and Leonardo was able to make sense of all his ramblings about techs he and Altaïr sorta started and kinda finished.

Edward was purely by chance, and he will never let down the fact that Edward had found him by fishing him out of the waters while he went diving for treasures.

Okay. Haytham becoming an Assassin was intentional. Matchmaking was not his strong point and he always fucked that up so badly because all his meddling only made Haytham and Kaniehtí:io sorta-kinda hate each other. Bless Edward for being able to fix that.

Desmond was only planning to take a vacay for a bit. That’s why he joined Shay. Realizing that taking out the POE would be bad? Yeah. That was unintentional. Making Shay freak out because he was freaking out because that POE looked ready to just drop off its container like the little bitch that it was? Yeah… definitely not intentional. Desmond and Shay swore never to talked about that incident. 

In Desmond’s defense… He didn’t help Arno broker peace between the Assassins and Tempalrs. That was all Arno and his supporters. Desmond had been… preoccupied by de Sade’s writings to actually be of any help. Oh. Well, Desmond guessed he did take the Sword of Eden and beat Germaine on the head with it while Arno was busy with the negotiations and trying to pretend that he hadn’t been banging the new Grand Master of the Templar Order for years now. 

Desmond would like to stress that he didn’t provide council to the Frye Twins. Unless one counts “Noooo, don’t do that” and “Wh… why are you doing this? No, seriously… talk me through your thought process on how you got to this plan” and, Jayadeep’s favorite, “Uh-huh… and then?”. Desmond spent his entire time in London in Kenway manor, just chilling then Jayadeep would come barging in asking for his help because of the next Frye patented idea one of the twins have. They weren’t bad. It was just… Evie might pretend that she’s good at planning and she is. The twins just see the word improvise as ‘the first thing we think of which is usually the most chaotic thing we can think of’ and double-down on that.

Honestly...

Desmond was already dreading the shenanigans that will happen after he takes this timeline's Desmond Miles under his wings.

But fuck it.

He'd been winging this from the beginning and he'll continue to wing this.

And just...

Hope for the best...?

[stampedestring]

(eBay source)

(eBay source)

An article on Clint Eastwood (Rawhide): "This Cowboy Feels He's Got It Made", TV Guide, February 4–10, 1961, pp. 8–11.

I typed out the text from this to make it easier to read, but I didn't check if it was already floating elsewhere on the Internet before I did this—whoops. Highlights:

Mention of Eastwood singing on an episode and preparing to cut a record (presumably Rawhide's Clint Eastwood Sings Cowboy Favorites, 1963)

Eastwood complaining about how annoying his long hair is and how he can't wait to get it back to a crew cut (I was surprised by this, considering his hair in the 70's)

How he got started on his pre-Rawhide career from 1954 to 1958. "'You,' said the assistant director, using the line generally reserved for pretty high school girls, 'oughta be in pictures.'"

Article (typed out) below the cut!

THIS COWBOY FEELS HE'S GOT IT MADE

Clint Eastwood of 'Rawhide,' an amiable young giant, just wants that cattle drive to go on and on and on

The dimly lighted outdoor set on MGM's vast Stage 22 made it difficult to distinguish the many figures that milled around the off-stage area. It was the Rawhide set, which differs little from any other set except for the small collection of tired-looking horses and the large collection of unkempt actors dressed in soiled cowboy outfits. The trim-looking script girl seemed oddly out of place.

Clint Eastwood, the tall, almost gangling young actor who plays Rowdy Yates, shuffled his feet and introduced a visitor to his co-star, deep-voiced, ebullient Eric Fleming.

"Yar," said Fleming to the visitor. "Are you anybody important? If you are, we'll find you a chair. Otherwise you can stand up like the rest of us peasants."

Fleming wandered off to study the various bits and scraps of paper to which he habitually reduces his script, and Eastwood unshuffled his feet long enough to pull up a couple of canvas chairs.

"I was sleeping," he said sheepishly. "You should have woke me up. Went back to the dressing room just to lie down for a bit."

The name Rowdy fits Eastwood about as well as Pollyanna fits Alfred Hitchcock. Even when completely awake, his manner is mild to the point of being apologetic. An amiable, quiet-spoken giant (6 feet 4) of 30, Eastwood likes to describe himself as "dull but happy." He has been married for the past seven years to model Maggie Johnson, lives in a San Fernando Valley ranch house, spends most of his off time prancing about in the surf at the beach or sitting home listening to his homemade hi-fi set.

A gentle soul, Eastwood is the kind of man who carefully picks struggling bees and grasshoppers from the surface of a swimming pool and returns them to their own element. "I always feel," he says a little defensively, "that they were put here for some purpose and it's not my business to let them drown."

Eastwood is, in fact, the antithesis of the hard-driving, ambitious young men who populate most of the other TV Westerns now on the air. They incorporate themselves, branch out into other businesses, itch to "do a play on Broadway," try their hand at directing and even producing. They are the Richard Boones, the Hugh O'Brians, the Robert Hortons, the Jim Arnesses, the Steve McQueens. And there are others.

Eastwood's medium-sized ambition at the moment, with Rawhide ready to begin a three-month layoff, was to star in a farcical French play for a Hollywood little-theater group. "We'd only do it for a couple of weeks—just for laughs," he explained. [It never came off, even for laughs.—Ed.]

"Then I'd like maybe to do a feature, something that might get me away from Westerns. I don't mean that I'm any drawing-room kind of actor or anything like that, but I always used to wear my hair in a crew cut and it would be kind of nice to get back to it again.

"They tell me the guys really did wear their hair long like this in the old trail days, but I don't see how they stood it. I would have sheared mine off as close as I could get it. Darn stuff picks up more dirt."

When Rawhide temporarily ceased production in mid-December (the series' comfortable backlog of episodes already filmed spurred the layoff to give producer Charles Marquis Warren time to work on his new Gunslinger series), Eastwood had done some [illegible digits] episodes of the hour-long films over a period of two years and was still looking forward to "doing as many more as the viewers care to put up with."

"I figure," he mused, "that I've done a little something for Rawhide, but I also figure they've done a little something for me. I have my beefs now and then, like anybody, but nothing serious. I'm under contract to CBS and sometimes they won't let me do an outside show because of what they call 'sponsor conflict.' I figure this is a little farfetched, but it's really not all that important, so I just go along."

Last September Rowdy Yates sang a song in a Rawhide episode. This has resulted in negotiations with several record companies, commercial enterprises dedicated to the proposition that while Frank Sinatra is good, anyone else who can sell records for whatever reason also is good.

(Proof of this, as any hapless parent with a teen-age offspring will willingly testify, lies in the fact that 13 of TV's Western heroes, most of them hitherto utterly inexperienced in the art of singing, have made at least one record. Eastwood makes the 14th—and this figure does not include any of the singing cowboys of prehistoric times, such as Gene Autry, Roy Rogers and Jimmy Wakely.)

Eastwood's flirtation with Tin Pan Alley is not to be construed as an indication that he is about to mount up and ride off in seven different directions. Eastwood likes Rawhide. He is even proud of it, which is a far cry from the average Western hero, who can't wait until his contract is up and school is out.

"I like to think," he says reflectively, "that Rawhide is at least honest. I mean, we're doing stories as they pretty much happened. Oh, occasionally I guess we hoke one up for dramatic purposes, but generally speaking we're doing the kind of things that guys on the cattle drives really did."

Warren, whose experience goes back to the first year of Gunsmoke and Jim Arness, says of Eastwood: "He's more than just a personality, I think. He's an actor. A quite fine actor, in fact. Like any other actor, he beefs now and again but they're generally justifiable beefs. If he thinks his part is too small in any given script, I'll hear about it.

"I think next season we may work on a strictly alternating basis, Eastwood to carry an entire show, then Fleming to carry one. That'll keep 'em both happy."

Eastwood fell into show business rather easily. While studying at Los Angeles City College in 1954 he also was holding down a part-time job at a filling station. One of his customers invited him to a cocktail party, and there he met an assistant director from Universal-International.

"You," said the assistant director, using the line generally reserved for pretty high school girls, "oughta be in pictures." A few days later he was, if a screen test can be considered a picture, and the test resulted in a contract and a series of insignificant parts in equally insignificant pictures. Remarkably, considering his height, looks and inexperience, he was cast in only one Western, and in it had just one line.

Leaving Universal after a year and a half, Eastwood signed on with RKO and found himself getting "Introducing Clint Eastwood" billing opposite Carol Channing in a Ginger Rogers movie called "The First Traveling Saleslady." The picture was not a success. Indeed, RKO folded shortly thereafter.

After a brief stint at Warner Brothers, where he appeared, briefly, in another unsuccessful picture, "Lafayette Escadrille," Eastwood wandered into TV via a role in a Highway Patrol episode. Late in 1956 he got into the now syndicated West Point series, going to New York to appear in "about half a dozen of them. The trouble with that series was that practically nothing ever happens to West Point cadets in real life. They march, go to classes, play football, study and go to bed. We'd open an episode with some strong dramatic line like 'You stole my laundry!' And where do you go from there?"

In short, Eastwood's "career" between 1954 and 1958 was about as fruitful and exciting as a postponed PTA meeting. One day early in 1958, however, he stopped by at CBS to see a friend of his wife's. Bob Sparks, then a CBS television executive, also picked the same time to drop in to see the same friend. He stared at Eastwood, took him back to his own office and had him read for a role that had been stumping producer Warren. The role was that of Rowdy Yates.

By that fall, 10 episodes of Rawhide, all an hour long, and expensive, had been filmed and there were still no takers. Eastwood got permission to do a Maverick over at Warner Brothers, the only other TV Western in which he has ever appeared. Rawhide finally got on the air in January 1959, and he has been with it ever since.

Says Clint: "I wasn't going anywhere when this show came along. Now I guess I'm a star. Eventually, like anyone else, I'd sort of like to branch out a bit, do other things. I don't figure Rawhide will last forever, but I don't figure to walk out on it, either."

[misscinnamonroll16]

part 4 of Please for God's sake, rest

“What happened? I don't think I've ever seen John cry like that or even cry at all." Clay whispered, using his hair to pull the blanket over them. “I honestly don't know. I was walking by and I heard what sounded like crying so I came to check on him. He was crying but stopped when I walked in. He tried to play it off like he wasn't but I could tell he was. After a minute I got him to talk about it and he just started crying again. Poor JD feels like he shouldn't have to be taken care of since he's the oldest. I told him that's not true, it doesn't matter how old he is, he can be taken care of. I think the reason we never saw him cry is because he never let himself cry around us. He felt he had to be the strong big brother, so any tears he had, he'd hold them in. That's not healthy, I think once he started, it all came crashing down on him.” Floyd whispered while rubbing John Dory's back. Clay looked down at JD sadly, was that true? Clay hugged John from behind. Silence fell over them and soon they were asleep as well.

Bruce and Branch went to check on John Dory after not seeing Clay or Floyd for a while. They opened the door to see the three of them squished on to the bed. Branch let out a quiet giggle and went to get the camera to document the moment. Bruce stood there for a minute, listening and watching how his brothers were such themselves. Clay had reached over, grabbed a book and fell asleep with it on his face. John Dory was drooling onto Floyds shirt and snoring softly. Floyd was always the quiet sleeper, sometimes they thought he had died but the steady rise and fall of his chest told him otherwise. They all looked so content, almost made Bruce wish he could squeeze in there with them. Branch came back with the camera and was about to take a picture when Bruce stopped him. “Just wait a moment. You can't tell me they don't look comfortable." Bruce said, holding Branch’s arm. Branch looked at his brothers, they did comfortable. They looked like nothing had changed, like they hadn't missed twenty years of each other's lives. Branch smiles softly before snapping the picture. Shaking it while talking to Bruce cheekily “Poppy is gonna love this one." Bruce chuckled and ruffled Branch's hair, enjoying how he fell so easily into the little brother role. The role of taking embarrassing pictures and sharing private information.  Bruce decided to let his brothers sleep, turning to offer Branch a lesson in cooking one of the dinners their grandma used to make. Branch wouldn't turn that down, he had missed her cooking and she sadly never wrote down any of her recipes. The two of them got cooking, chatting about this and that as they cooked. The smell of the food flooded the bunker, hitting Floyd's nose first. He sleepily sniffed the air, the smell giving him a warm fuzzy feeling inside. Floyd detangled himself from JD, making sure to cover them back up after he got up. Floyd made his way down into the bunker to the kitchen. Once in the kitchen, Floyd watched his brothers cook and talk, jokes being made as food was tasted. It was comforting, the warm fuzzy feeling spread through his body. A few minutes had passed for either of them noticed Floyd had walked in and sat at the table. When did you get here?" Branch asked after doing a double take. Bruce let out a ‘hmm?’ and looked over his shoulder. Floyd smiled softly, still a little sleepy. “A few minutes ago, whatever you guys are cooking smells good.” Floyd said before walking over to the kitchen to get a better look at the food. Bruce was showing Branch how to make their grandma's zucchini boats recipe, as kids they didn't care for it but now they'd enjoy it. They conversated as the food cooked, Floyd hopped up on the counter to get out of the way. “Counters are for glasses, not asses. Get your butt down." Bruce joked, pointing the end of a spatula at him. “Geez, ok, ok." Floyd said before getting down, hold his hands up in defense. Branch chuckled “Did you get that from Grandma too?" “Ha ha, very funny. Kind of, she used to say ‘counters are for cups not butts’. She never swore around us and tried to make sure we didn't swear either. God, the amount of times she yelled at John and Clay for swearing was a little ridiculous." Bruce responded as he stirred the vegetables in the pot. "And if it got really bad, she'd wash their mouths out with soap. Clay swallowed some once and was convinced he was gonna burp bubbles. Watching him try and make that happen was very entertaining.” Floyd said, laughing at the memory while leaning against the counter. The light hearted conversation continued and soon the food was done. Clay had woken up and came down as the table was set. “Well look who decided to join us? What, did John's snoring wake you up?" Bruce teased as Clay joined them at the table. “ No, the smell of good food did. Is this what I think it is?” Clay asked, seeing what had been cooking. Bruce let out a ‘mhm’ as he set up a plate to take up to John Dory. They began eating, eyes tearing up because Bruce had made it just like their grandma had.

Bruce came back down to see his little brothers eating with tears in their eyes. “What's wrong?" He asked, panicking a little, thinking he had messed it up somehow. " It tastes just how grandma used to make it.” Floyd said sadly, food still in his mouth. It tugged at Bruce's heart strings to see his brothers look so sad but so happy. He made himself a plate and dug in, they were right. It really did taste how grandma used to make it. They ate, really enjoying the food before sitting down to watch a movie, every so often one of them going to check on John Dory. The day ended with each of them content and happy, old memories and new ones ready to be made. 

its done, what do you think?

[gabessquishytum]

Okay as a Particular Kind of asexual I have a rather specific au. It could work for both Hob or Dream but for my purposes let's go with Dream on this one. Human Dream is a HUGE workaholic. Like stressed 24/7, can't relax for the life of him, insomnia to the MAX. he's tried EVERYTHING. Yoga, affirmations, candles, drugs, fuck it he's even tried going GLUTEN FREE for fucks sake but nothing can break this cycle of physical and mental stress. He's gotten the "You need to get laid dude" but he can give HIMSELF an orgasm just fine, and it hasn't reset his brain or body, and the effort of going out, finding someone who wants him, determining whether they're a seriel killer, doing the Whole Hookup Song and Dance, with the high probability that it won't even work or be particularly good? It's just more stress on his plate. So a friend, could be a good friend (Lucienne) or a bad friend (Corinthian), suggest he see a Professional. A professional Dom, that is. He needs out of his head for a while, and that's the whole idea right? Just letting someone else do the driving. Cue Hob, Gentle Dom Extraordinaire, who has JUST the right touch for this mess of a man. He's kind and friendly, the kind of guy you WANT to listen to honestly, a guy you can trust, and he never gets meaner than some teasing, keeping Dream from feeling defensive and storming off. Dream goes in pretty skeptical of the whole thing, but by the time he's come out he's already addicted. Their first few sessions are distictly non sexual, but after a while they start branching out, working out Dream's physical stress...

I do think it would be really good in the other direction too, I just don't think Hob would have particular trouble NEEDING a Dom, I think he'd just try it as he does many things in his Insatiable Lust for Life and falls for Dream's Domming specifically. Soft Dom Dream? You'd never guess, especially since outside their sessions he's such a..stone cold asshole tbh. You'd think he'd be mean and demanding, but his soft deep voice says such sweet things instead, Hob MELTS.

Thanks for the platform to project all this outwards, it would be stewing in my mind FORVER otherwise

Ooo yes I'm a big fan of domination being a part of lifestyle which isn't always sexual. Dream being dommed into basic self care is something that can be so personal actually. And honestly? I can see Hob benefitting from the same thing. I can definitely imagine him going through fluctuating mental health and needing a steady hand to get him back on the right track.

Back to Dream, though. I love the idea of him going to Hob with certain expectations (Cori told him that it would be all whips and chains). But Hob is soft and kind, and he quickly puts Dream at ease. The first session is all about finding out what Dream wants, what his triggers are, how he wants to feel at the end. Hob eases him into the dynamic by guiding him through a series of orders - it's more like a guided breathing exercise than anything else, and it does give Dream a more realistic idea of what sessions with Hob are going to be like. There's also a very nice massage specifically for Dream’s hands, which he's never had before.

He leaves feeling like he's floating, with strict instructions from Hob to call if he feels any negative side effects whatsoever. He can't believe how good he feels! And he wants to be such a good boy for Hob.

Within a few weeks, Dream is eating nutritious meals and going to bed without his work laptop. He's got more important things to do in bed! He's got to send Hob a picture of his cute little hole stretching around an egg plug by 9pm, or he'll be in big trouble...

[blade-that-was-broken]

I’m not sure if Trolls, TWT and TBT would be involved in this AU like you did with I’m still here AU

For this you were born AU (I seriously love this AU! For some reason I want do AU that was inspired by this AU, I hate getting ideas from others that is originally their ideas-)

Anyway, if Trolls happen, then how would John Dory and Branch feel if Poppy, the snack pack and others who are WILLING to throw a biggest loudest and craziest party ever. How would Viva feel about this? What about Clay, Spruce and Floyd?

I know they’ll NOT going to like this because they knew John Dory and Branch went through so much. The fact Poppy had no clue what happened. John Dory would hate that, he has traumas, right?

How badly it would goes when Chef found the Pop Trolls and we know what happens the rest.

Alright, first of all - go for it dude. I honestly, do not mind if you want to use it for inspo, or a starting off point or even an au of the au. Like, if that what works for you, go for it. You aren't the only one - although I'm super flattered it has inspired people like that.

Okay, so I'm not entirely sure how the Trolls movies in general would go with this entirely, yet. I have thought about it, briefly, but not much, just with the shear number of aus I have a tendency to come up with. I'm not entirely sure how much fear there is with the village. Don't get me wrong, they feared the Bergens but no one's past is the same. Branch has some Bergen-related trauma but it's very, very different than canon Branch and his memory is kind of shrouded anyways. Even Viva doesn't have the same type of trauma; there is no scary great escape, trolls weren't lost in collapsed tunnels, she wasn't separated from her family. So honestly, I'm not even sure how paranoid she would be about that. I'm not saying she wouldn't, I'm just not entirely sure either. In general, no ones trauma about the Bergens is quite the same as in canon. I'm not entirely sure how it all kind of plays out but in this, JD's is definitely the most poignant. The dude spent weeks around a Bergen that he eventually literally killed, all under the fear he would be eaten and his baby brother as well.

I think it would happen possibly earlier than in canon, the events of Trolls. Things are so different. The Village is different. Clay is innovative and Viva is there and well, things are just so different. And I'm not entirely sure who would all get taken. The events of the movie would definitely change, depending on who is taken.

If JD got taken, that would be horrifying but I'm not... I won't say that the Bergens don't know about him and what he did. Because that is entirely possible that word had gotten back on how that specific Bergen died - was killed. And people in the city he was in/near the Bergen's house know it was him. He was just never arrested because it was self-defense, and no one gives a crap about a dead troll-eating monster.

If Branch got taken, that is a whole other can of worms that would lead to a ton of panic, especially on JD's part. If any of the bros got taken, it would be kind of a shitstorm cause JD is not letting that happen. JD in general is kind of sensitive to some things anyways, so he doesn't particularly appreciate loud parties and stuff.

If they did befriend the Bergens, JD would avoid them and they would avoid him. I don't think there would be quite any... friendships there. Maybe forgiveness, at some point, but JD has too much pent up things when it comes to a Bergen that he needs to deal with. He knows, they, specifically, aren't the Bergen he killed but he's still freaked out. And well... he is a tiny troll that literally killed one of their own. That has got to be terrifying. So, no real trust or friendship there but JD is also all for not being hunted/eaten/etc. so he's not particularly bothered by others befriending Bergens.

But like I said, if they were to befriend the Bergens at all. It's even possible they wouldn't.

All in all, the original trolls movie might be a little different but the main aspect would be the same. Unless they don't befriend the Bergens, then it would be WAY different.

As for TWT... well, okay, so I've had a bit of a convo with someone about Peppy. JD and Branch know a ton about the other tribes and well, we know Peppy is desperate to keep things a secret. I'm not saying he's evil in this by any means, but he does do some dirty work, so to speak, and tries to keep JD quiet. I've kind of bounced some thoughts around about it and there have been suggestions. It's very casual with JD and Branch, them talking about the other tribes but when Peppy gets a whiff of it... he has a talk with JD.

And JD, although a strong troll and strong willed, is very tired at this point still, since it's early in him coming home. He's tired and kind of overwhelmed and he's got a bunch of chronic pain that he's trying to deal with in a troll way. It's like a recovery all over again. And with everything being so new and Branch being so young and JD being so protective, JD stays quiet about it. He still kind of talks, mostly with his family, but he doesn't go out of his way to tell others about the other tribes. He does have to have a talk with Branch about talking about his other friends/the other tribes which Branch is super confused about. Understandably.

I'm not sure when/if the other bros kind of get a whiff of the threats JD is under; he doesn't really make it apparent and since he doesn't talk a lot anyways, it might not be readily seen right away.

But TWT would happen when Branch is a teenager. I think that would make sense with this. Barb, in her rebellion or whatever, is starting her whole World Tour and Branch gets really worried about his other friends in the other tribes. Poppy learns the full truth about the existence of the other tribes, kind of in a way like, wait, this sounds like the stories Branch used to tell me when we were young.

She's not super happy that Branch kept it from her, and she doesn't get answers on why, but she goes on her trip anyways and Branch follows.

And JD chases after them in Rhonda. Floyd would probably come. Possibly Clay. I'm not entirely sure. Maybe Viva, actually.

Obviously things with Delta would be vastly different, although now that I think about it, JD and Delta's reunion might not come until later... you know, for angst purposes. Things with Hickory and Dickory would also be different, obviously.

This would take a WHOLE lot more thought on the matter because this one would change a lot.

TBT... Idk does it really matter much? None of them are in a band so they never really even heard of the family harmony. And none of them are estranged. So I guess that wouldn't happen at all. There could be a whole kidnapping thing, but that would be an ENTIRELY different plot then because well, things are super different. But at this point, TBT wouldn't even really be a thing.

Uh... I think that's all I got