#I DONT WANT THE NEIGHBORS TO THINK IM DYING

[dimonds456]

Aight, what you see above is an article that's getting passed around by proshippers. I'm making my own post separate from theirs to discuss the contents of this article and why I believe everyone *should* read it, while also I don't believe the article is correct.

The article was written by a Japanese artist who had been harassed for "proshipping" online, even though they themself did not partake in anything more than aging up 15-year-old characters to 19. As far as they claim, that was it (though the artwork itself is not provided).

Someone had DMed them, asking if they were a proshipper, or a "problematic shipper", to which they shrugged and went "I guess so?" and then that person-referred to as A- started spreading it to all their friends that A was a proshipper and to avoid them, leading to soft blocks, harassment, ect.

Something I'd like to point out that is correct about this article is the meaning of "proshipper." It doesn't mean "problematic ships." Instead, "pro" is the prefix, not an abbreviation. The meaning is in reference to someone who is unbothered by any specific type of ship, and/or supports the creation of problematic ships. This difference is, I feel, important, not because the definition is changed, but because how people view that definition changes substantially.

Keep that in mind.

Something else of note here is the cultural difference. The artist is from Japan, and according to them, Japan allows ships of any kind. Japan, as a country, is proship, which creates vast and varied artistic expressions. Any and everything is allowed.

And, according to worldpopulationreview.com, the age of consent in Japan is 13 (though articles are saying they're rethinking this law).

Again, I recommend reading the article for yourself to fully understand the artist's point of view, but I'd like to break down where the author was wrong about many things. A lot of them stem from cultural differences and are normalized, so you can't really blame them, but it's good to keep in mind when interacting with proshippers from all over the world.

Something they're right about is harassment. I don't think people should be being harassed for stuff like this. Blocked? Yes.

The first thing they got wrong was the general assumption that fiction doesn't affect reality, or that antis cannot tell the difference between fiction and reality. This (at least for a lot of us) isn't true. Using myself as an example, it's clear to me that fiction and reality are two different worlds.

However, to say that fiction doesn't affect reality is false. Both worlds influence each other. If an adult starts dating a 13-year-old in fiction, younger audience members who watch that will see that relationship play out. Depending on how it's portrayed, this can either help or harm that audience member. If this relationship is deemed bad in that piece of media, then the younger members of that audience will remember that, vs if they say it's okay, THAT'S where you've crossed into proship territory that is actively harmful towards your audience.

I am a firm believer that anything should be allowed in fiction, as long as the author is respectful, responsible, and considers the ramifications of their work towards a real audience. So like, having a relationship between a 19-year-old and a 13-year-old should be allowed to be portrayed, as long as it isn't positive. By not allowing these stories to be told at all, that's leaning into some book burning shit.

What the author did, aging up 15-year-olds to 19, is not inherently bad, especially since they say it wasn't sexual in nature (but again, the art itself is never presented).

The second thing they get wrong is calling us a minority. I don't believe there were any studies done on this, but I don't think the majority of Americans go around talking about shipping children with adults? Again, it's a cultural difference that was influenced on this specific artist BY other proshippers. It's a biased view from both sides. I do not believe any studies have officially been done on this subject, so you cannot call us a minority. But, we can't call you a minority, either. I'm not sure how many there are on either side.

But also, I don't think that really matters. Continuing my topic from before with fiction affecting reality, if someone in that audience can get hurt because of your story, then it doesn't matter if the majority don't. It's still harmful and can affect reality- THIS reality- in negative ways. By drawing proship art and saying it doesn't matter because it's fiction, you're helping to normalize this art for ACTUAL predators. It doesn't matter how many proshippers there are, this is STILL harmful.

Something else I noticed, but I cannot point specifically to this article as evidence for, but it may be influencing the author, is the idea of in-fandom vs outside-fandom. The author mentions this a couple times, though usually in reference to the cultural differences between Japan and America.

The author is outside the US fandom, and so doesn't fully understand its inner workings or why so many of us are anti-proship "purest"s. I don't know how else to explain this besides going up to your grandparents and asking them if they think proshipping is okay.

Upon hearing the actual definition- being unbothered or perpetuating any type of relationship between two or more characters in fiction- they might go "yeah I agree with that," because that does sound nice on paper. Freedom of expression.

But what antis have come to realize is that fiction DOES affect reality, and if you were to ask your grandparents if they thing a child should be in a relationship with an adult, they'd probably go "no."

This is purely because they don't understand the culture of being online, and the several, several subcultures that came to be. We know what proshippers are and what they represent, but someone outside fandom space wouldn't.

And now, to any proshippers reading this: first of all, thank you for hearing me out, lol. But then, I ask you to please re-evaluate why you're a proshipper. Is it for the freedom of expression idea, do you just not give a shit, or do you genuinely enjoy seeing kids and adults together? Maybe something else? I'm not going to tell you how to feel about that- you can come to your own conclusion- but I do ask that you re-examine that idea.

If the author is SOMEHOW reading this, first of all, thank you too. My goal here was not to harass you in any way, but to point out the core of why this article doesn't really work. I'm sure in Japan things are vastly different, and that's not your fault, OP. And although I don't stand by what A did to you, I do ask that you think again. Stuff like this does affect reality, even in small ways (but when it comes to p*dos, it can be FAR more harmful than good).

Proshippers help normalize unhealthy behaviors that can seriously hurt children for the rest of their lives. Do proships exist in reality? ...Yes. Not between fictional characters, but those characters can influence people in real life to go "oh yeah the incest ship was okay in this anime, which means it's fine if I'm like that, too." It's not fine. It's not okay.

Again, I'm not here to harass you, and ultimately it's up to you whether you choose to listen. I'm sorry for the harassment at all, that should not have occurred.

Back to my general audience, though, yeah. Again, read the article for yourself (which I do still highly recommend). It gives a good glimpse into the minds and ideas of some proshippers out there. I don't think OP is a bad person, just misinformed. And I believe the same of a lot of proshippers out there. We can't change their minds, but we can make sure misinfo like what is in the article is debunked, and spread correct information regarding the subject.

Some sources:

Again, read the article, do some thinking (on BOTH sides), and have a good one, guys.

[mostly-imagines]

At Least I’m Not Alone at the Wake

jason todd x fem!reader

aka how jason feels safe even when he feels like he’s dying

HEY today we’re going to play a game where we practice reblogging fics: if you read this and like it—reblog!! ie, if you like and dont reblog i might block bc im getting sick of the lack of decorum

warnings: angst w comfort throughout

It took less than thirty seconds for the silence of the night to drift into sounds of shrieks echoing off the buildings along the street. The sharp contrast had you and Jason bolting upright on the couch, ears on alert. It only took a few seconds more of listening for you to realize you’re not hearing shouting—it’s laughter. Maniacal, uncontrolled laughter. 

There’s a beat as you both freeze upon the implication, the unsettling realization dropping in on you. You barely have a moment to process it before Jason’s pushing up from the couch and heading towards the bathroom.

“Close the window,” he grumbles.

You blink as you register his words before jumping up to do as told, quickly sliding the frame shut and locking it. He returns soon with an armful of towels in hand, and you stand back as he stuffs a couple along the window sill with rough movements. He goes throughout the apartment, doing the same to the other windows. He rounds back to the living room window, looking down at the street with a heavy look on his face. 

You trust that the towels will do their job in preventing the laughing gas from getting in the apartment, but they’re unable to block out the bellows of hysteria.

He backs away from the window, letting the living room wall hold his weight. You both listen to the harrowing echoes with still bodies. 

You watch him, waiting for a reaction. You don’t mean to, but you know you’re looking at him like he’s a loaded spring. You try not to, you know how much he hates how his family does that to him, but fuck, it’s hard not to worry about him.

When Joker incidents have come up, they’ve usually been something you’re able to ignore or even get ahead of and drive out of the city. But this is raucous and chaotic, clearly enough to shut down the city from the inside. Besides, Jason would be booking it out of here if he thought there was any chance of a clean getaway in this.

But you know he’s got no interest in inserting himself in anything Joker related, especially something so destabilizing.

While you know Jason’s family cares about him, of course they do, but you’ve noticed they sometimes put Gotham’s needs first and his second. So the severity of this attack is concerning for you for two reasons.

“Will they…” you shuffle, “Will they need you?”

He’s quick to answer, voice firm. “No.” A long moment passes before he adds on, quieter, “They won’t want me out there.”

You nod to yourself, trying to relax your body. You being on edge isn’t going to help him.

You watch as his head thumps against the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He’s tough—you know he’s tough. He can withstand a hell of a lot more than you’ll probably ever even know. But even for Gotham, this is a lot. And even for someone who hasn’t been through what Jason has, the ringing repetitions of laughter are maddening. You wonder if this is what the Joker hears in his head. You wonder if this is what Jason heard.

The intensity of the laughing increases, more people likely becoming exposed to the gas. You think you can hear it in one of your neighbor’s apartments too.

He thumps his head against the drywall again, hands clenching at his sides. It takes one more forceful thud for you to move over to him, cradling your hand to the side of his head, holding him still. He lets you, though he still doesn’t open his eyes.

“Jay,” you say softly, stroking his hair. “Let’s take a shower, yeah?” Normally you’d try for a bath to calm him instead but you hope the waterfall from the shower might be enough to drown out the noise.

He takes a second to respond, letting your hand bear the weight of his head. “Yeah.”

His voice is splintered though, and his shoulders droop as he stands up fully. He waits to move until you start to lead him, flinching at every spike of laughter. You reach back and take his hand, giving it two squeezes. He squeezes your hand back but doesn’t loosen his grip.

As you enter the bathroom he wastes no time getting straight to the shower nozzle and turning it on. You press the door shut behind you, sealing out a decent portion of the chaos. You decide against turning the overhead light on, opting instead to let the small pink-shaded lamp provide a warm glow that you can easily maneuver throughout the shadows in. You figure he needs a more tranquil atmosphere than the harsh white light the bathroom ceiling can provide.

You turn to him in time to catch him pulling his shirt up harshly, movements jerked and impatient.

You place a gentle hand on his forearm, “Hey.”

He pauses his actions, eyes on the floor.

You don’t say anything else, but he understands your objection regardless. You remove your touch and he peels his shirt off slower, kinder to himself. 

You wait to make sure he continues this method with the rest of his clothes before you start to remove yours.

The downpour of water on the tiles does it’s intended job in creating your own little sanctum away from the noise. You climb into the shower after him, standing in the stray mist sprays that made their way past him. The bits of water that do manage their way to you are hot—not scalding, but hot enough that you know his chest is going to start getting numb very soon standing in front of the stream like this. 

You trace lines over the muscles of his back, outlining them and every little indent of a scar. When you run out of canvas on his back you move onto his arms, right then left.

It’s not until you trace down his wrist that you realize his head is angled down. You don’t need to be standing in front of him to know that his focus is zeroed in on his scar and you’re not sure how long it's been that way. Too long, in any case.

“Jay,” you say so softly that the water nearly drowns you out. “Will you look at me, please?”

He does turn to you, slowly, but he doesn’t look up.

You hold his face in your hands, nudging him to look up at you. He looks tired, drained. 

You know he has to hear that laughter in a different way than you do. It’s uncomfortable and frightening for you, but for him, it’s layers upon layers of the sound he heard while he was being beaten to death. And even beyond that horrible trauma, the reminder of it brings forth every memory of what happened afterwards, not to mention the heavy baggage you know he feels over being here at all. And you can see it all mulling behind his eyes.

“You know I love you,” you tell him with sincerity. His gaze stays heavy and you can tell it’s a struggle for him to hold the eye contact.

You lean up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, catching his bottom lip slightly. Your next kiss meets his lips fully. You have to push up on your toes a little bit but he does the work of meeting you halfway. It’s a slow, intimate exchange, as fluid and serene as breathing.

“I love all of you,” you murmur against his lips. You let your hands fall to his chest, resting as gently as they can over his pecs. “Everything about you.”

You kiss the top of his Y scar, trailing down soft pecks to where it forks off. You feel his shoulders sag a bit, tension forcing its way out of him. You lean down to continue your kisses down the vertical line marking his abdomen, your hands lightly following in your wake.

He says your name painfully, like he’s begging you to stop. You’ll give him partial reprieve, taking his hands in yours and kissing his scarred knuckles. It’s his instinct to push affection away, you know that, but you also know that he needs it. That’s why he doesn’t stop you now—he knows he needs it—it’s just a lot for him all at once, emotionally. Which is why he gives no warning before he picks you up by your thighs and pulls you close. 

He’s got you a full head higher than him and he uses the difference to hide his face in your neck. Sometimes he feels like that’s the only place he can go. He maneuvers you around so your back is pressed up against the wall as you hold each other tight.

You stay in there like that until the water runs cold, and then some. You have to nudge him a bit into setting you back down then, but he does, letting you collect and wrap the both of you in towels. The second the water turns off you can hear the cackling through the walls. 

As you return to the bedroom, he only bothers to pull on a pair of boxers before collapsing his weight onto the mattress. The lack of layers won’t help him any, but you know why he did it.

He can’t always look after himself the way he should—he disregards his own needs and has trouble even thinking of what could help him. You’ve developed a mind for it though—for him—and you know that being exposed and vulnerable like this isn’t going to help him calm down. He prefers being covered up when he’s stressed, it gives him more security, you think.

You open up the dresser and dig through for his most comfortable hoodie and sweatpants. He takes them from you, but he looks remiss at the thought of exerting anymore energy right now, so you help him tug on the clothes, successfully blocking out the now icy air from the AC. 

Once he’s fully clothed he pulls you forward to sit on his lap. You stumble a bit on the way but he compensates by holding you very tight, not giving your body any option to fall. His grip on you tells you that he’s not concerned with you getting dressed too, which you’re perfectly willing to oblige.

You have to force him to let you break away a little bit so you can reach over to the nightstand and grab your phone and earbuds.

“Movie or music?”

He doesn’t say anything, only nods his head once at the end of your sentence. You take that to mean music and open up your playlist on your phone, handing him the headphones.

There’s a harsh spike in the hysterics outside, mixed with what sounds like screams, and it has Jason flinching hard. You think you can see tears welled in his eyes as he fumbles to get the headphones in his ears. He takes the phone from you and picks the first song he sees and turns the volume up, up, up.

You shift yourself around so that you’re laying back against the pillows, giving him room to lay down over your legs, wrapping his arms around your waist with a firm grip. You pull the hood up over his head, but keep your hands woven underneath, threading through his hair. 

His cheek mushes against your bare stomach, and with the way he’s laying, you’re sure the earbuds are digging uncomfortably into his ear. He makes no effort to move in any case. You can hear the song playing word for word, and while the noise exposure concerns you, if there was ever a time to let it go, it would be now.

You’re both wrapped up nicely in the blankets and you can only see the tip of his nose and a few strands of ivory hair strewn past his forehead. Despite all the snug layers, he shakes a bit under your touch.

He falls asleep before the problem outside gets wrapped up, and you turn down the music. Not all the way, just enough that he can rest in peace. 

After a while the giggles die down and aside from a few first responder sirens, things get quiet again. About twenty minutes later, Nightwing ducks in through your window and scares the hell out of you. The interaction does not, however, wake Jason up, which is how you know tonight took a very heavy toll on him.

Even though the lights aren’t on in your bedroom you slide down from the pillows a bit more and let the blanket and Jason drown your chest out from visibility.

Nightwing gives you a silent, if not awkward, wave and scans over Jason. Even in the dark can see the worry in his eyes. He looks back up at you and throws up a questioning thumbs up with a tilt of his head.

You nod and he nods back slowly as he takes one more look at his brother before hopping out the window.

You peer down at Jason and brush his curls back gently. His hold on you tightens just a bit as he turns in his sleep.

reblog or get out seriously

[heart2beom]

second lead syndrome

pairing: taehyun x gn!reader

genre: fluff, just tons of fluff

synopsis: taehyun, your neighbor, has been helping you out with beomgyu, the best friend you've been in love with for your entire life. when you finally score a date, albeit taehyuns plan working, you're in crisis.

because you start getting second thoughts.

warning: purposeful wrong tagging for more reach. sorry babes im greedy 😭 though i dont specify pronouns, this is more fem leaning!!

notes: i wrote this in only an hour, not the most quality work but i had to release something for my favorite man's birthday hello????!?! also was listening to this is what falling in love feels like by JVKE on repeat, if that helps with the reading experience. i have no idea if it does. lol as always, reblogging will help the algorithm pick this up so as a content creator, ill love you for it.

you were extremely fidgety as you looked at yourself in the mirror -- this was the fourth outfit you've changed into. you slightly chewed on your bottom lip, furrowing your brows together thinking...none of this felt real, that was one thing you were sure of. preparing to go on a date with beomgyu...it's like dying and actually walking up the stairs of heaven.

the man that was all your firsts yet, felt like a distant, unachievable dream. the man that makes you go to sleep with the biggest smile, and the man that makes you kick your feet, squealing into your pillow even after long graduating high school. he felt just like a celebrity crush. a celebrity crush, someone you'll never ever have the chance to date.

that is, until taehyun moved in next door. you heard rumors from the old ladies at the apartments' lobby that he was a genius, a young einstein if you will, graduating seoul university with top marks.

you don't know what, but something possessed you to go knock at his door's flat, pushing a welcome basket of bread in his arms, saying word for word, "teach me how to make a guy fall in love with me". of course, you managed to squeak out a please for politeness sake.

it was the built up desperation, you guessed looking back. but despite thinking highly of taehyun's mind, you never expected whatever voodoo steps he made up to actually work. sure, it took...what? like, months and twenty bucks every now and then, but it worked.

you turned away from your mirror, looking back at the man occupying your bed, cocking your head to the side.

"what? are you feeling like you're dreaming again?" he asks, mirroring your action. "want me to pinch you?"

you exhale, exhausted. "i need to change."

which taehyun sat up straight to, "again? i already told you, you look pretty."

you roll your eyes to that comment. maybe getting a man to help you prepare for a date wasn't the brightest idea you've had, though, you aren't particularly known for having bright ideas anyway.

"i need an honest opinion, but you just keep on saying oh you look good, oh you look pretty" you mock, deepening your voice to mimic taehyuns'. before he could retaliate, you add "and it's not helping, at all."

it was silent for a while, until he folded his arms,"you want me to give my honest opinion?" he asked. and you nod, frantically at that.

"brutally honest, hit me with the straight, cold facts." you say, preparing yourself by straightening your shoulders.

"well, for one" he starts, to which you take a deep breath at anticipation, "you'll never make it on time for your dream date. that's one fact."

you groan, walking in your stupidly long heels to sit on the edge of your bed, next to taehyun. "okay, well, that's a given at this point. give me something else."

"and you're incredibly, weirdly nervous for a movie date with your best friend. that's another fact." he had put his phone face down next to him, now with his legs crossed, as he looked out for your reaction.

"taehyun." you drawl, beyond annoyed.

"what?", he asked innocent, like he wasn't just taunting you. all you did was give him a death glare, which earned an airy laugh from him.

"alright, i'll be serious now, i promise." he said, scooching up to sit directly by your side now, his legs touching yours with how close he was.

"starting with your face— don't get mad, you asked for this." he warned with a raised finger, which made you nervously gulp. did you really look that bad? you nodded to reassure him to continue anyway—you weren't going to risk going to this date looking bad.

"your eyes; the glitter, though it helps pull your whole look together," he makes a hand gesture, your breath hitched in your throat, as you nodded for him to continue "it's dull when you compare it to your eyes."

you furrow your brows, incredibly puzzled. "what does that mean?"

"your eyes shine more" he said with a cheeky grin, your mouth left agape at his playfullness.

"glitter doesn't shine. you..you suck at flirting." you said hitting his shoulder, letting out an unbelievable scoff.

he fauxes hurt as he rubs his shoulder, "this isn't flirting, i'm being very honest right now!"

you roll your eyes, a smile tugging at your lips. "mhm"

he shrugs, "i'm not going to continue if you don't believe me."

"okay, okay. i believe you, continue kang."

"alright. so, your brows," you nod. "perfectly trimmed, which..." he leans closer to your face, his thumb grazing your eyebrows. you didn't expect the sudden closeness, so your breath was hitched, stuck right in your throat. "which is good. there's no little hairs in between, or surrounding them."

he moves away after what felt like a whole hour, in reality, was just a few seconds. only beomgyu ever got that close to you — that's your justification for your heart quickening at the proximity. you just got reminded of beomgyu, that was it.

"going well so far." you breathed out, finally being able to talk.

"yeah? told you you don't look bad." you narrowed your eyes. "taehyun. you're not doing this just to say i told you so are you? that's, like, cheating!"

taehyun sighed. "y/n, do you think i'm trying to sabotage you or something? i'm not. i'm not praying on your downfall, i'm being honest."

your previously furrowed eyebrows turned into pleading ones, filled with insecurity. "yeah?"

"yeah." you looked up to see his eyes. they always calmed your anxiousness, you found that the eyes are the doors of the soul saying couldn't have matched anyone more than it did taehyun, you knew everything just by looking at them. and this time, when you looked at them, it was almost overwhelming how they looked back at you with such softness — sincerity.

so overwhelming, your heart picked up at a faster speed, once again. what was up with you?

"okay, now, your lips," and again, his thumb. the one responsible to all of this. it was on your lips, going back and forth on the bottom one, then facing it to his eyes. he looked a bit taken back, kind of shocked.

"what?" you ask with your brows raised. he turns his thumb to you, with an amused smile spread on his face, "there's no red."

you let out an airy laugh, he was way too cute. "well, yeah, it's a no smudge matte lipstick. it's impossible to get off without makeup wipes."

"huh. then, that's good. you can kiss beomgyu without it being all messy." you nod slowly to that. "hey, on that note, refrain from giving me details about the kiss... if it happens."

you're quick to retaliate with a scoff. "it will happen, why won't it happen? it'll happen!"

he shakes his head, which earns an offended expression from you. "i'm just saying, you're the biggest coward i know."

"you're the biggest coward i know." you replied immaturely.

"i'm going to...i'm going to ignore that lame comeback and pretend it wasn't awful." he said, taking a look at his phone. "it's about to be ten...are you feeling less..insecure?"

you look at your heels, then back at him with a smile. "think so, yeah."

when you finally lock your door with keys, taehyun hovering over your back, you turn to him chirply. you're ready, you're ready to go out with beomgyu.

"so." you started, looking up at him, a large smile on your face. "thank you, taehyun. seriously. i know it was kind of weird at first, like you know, spending a lot of time with a stranger but to be completely honest—"

"it wasn't." he interrupted.

"huh?"

"it wasn't weird spending so much time with you."

"oh—well, uh" again, taehyun catches you off guard with his aloofness, making you stutter like an idiot, completely forgetting your monologue.

it didn't help that taehyun somehow was closer than you thought, way closer than the usual arm length. seriously, what was up with the proximity?

when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, it was again, so soft, waiting for you to say something. then, when taehyuns hand found its way tucking a strand behind your ear, you couldn't hear anything anymore. your heartbeat was magnified to your ears, despite seeing that his mouth was moving, saying something, you couldn't focus.

he waved a hand at your face, and you refocused again.

"think you should go now, love of your life's blowing up your phone."

"um—um yeah" you stuttered, waking up from your thoughts. "it's probably beomgyu" you muttered, smiling weakly.

"yeah," he chuckled a little, and god, was it so fucking cute. "thats why i said love of your life."

it was weird how you didn't catch that, you've always been referring to beomgyu as the love of your life, especially with taehyun.

you watched as he unlocked his door knob, looking back at you with his eyes twinkling a little under the dim hallway lights, "don't get nervous, you really do look pretty."

then he was gone, cruelly leaving you with one thought as you looked at the texts from the contact name, 'love of my life'.

you weren't ready. you weren't ready to go out with beomgyu. at all.

ending a/n: soooo how we feeling? cute? cute? readers so starstruck by taehyuns eyes and im just like..yup, same. me. this was originally apart of a very long fic i was working on, but that was scrapped, so..lol have this cute lil thing

[lyss-sketchbox]

[arlecchino sq rant]

and ALSO the way her story quest predictably but disappointingly had no internal logic. even after the memory wiping reveal she was like "NO ONE can escape this if they betray me hoho hehe this is totally successfully written" UNTIL it came to our three playables!! they get a choice, not even just Lyney as the supposed successor! Why involve them then? Why not make a quest mostly about uninteresting npcs like you so love doing? WHO APPROVED THIS

...at least the other animated short, with the twins, is so good

Tbh i dont have any specific gripe with arle's SQ, it's good enough

What i like about it :

Fatui trio dynamic and quirks when they interact with each other (fist bump, natural role division when they scheme, etc.)

Lyney's conviction about 'this is my family, i will protect them with my life' is SHOWN instead of TOLD multiple times (planned the scheming, trying hard to help clervie, stepping up to fight Arle)

The MAIN FOCUSED character initiated the plot instead of 'oh hello random npc i've never met OF COURSE i'll help you'

Arle and Childe dynamic (talks about family growing up, mutual agreement that regrator sucks), feels natural, childe naturally believing rumours easier and arle cautiously choosing her words to mold how people perceive her even in leisure

Alre's strict principles well established (traitors must be punished, all support/sacrifices will be rewarded) it is obvious she works for her goals alone, she joins factions and alliances because she establishes equal trades regardless of which side you fight for.

She clearly don't want to be like Crucabena because she was once her child, and while that doesn't fully explain why she 'cares' about the House, i can excuse that Clervie atleast influenced her in some way so that her children has the freedom to choose the life they wish to live (referring to Clervie's only freedom then is to choose to die)

What i don't like :

The entire facking backstory spoiled in the animation for pity points and/or marketing

Deux ex machina in the form of khanerian crimson moon descendant so her flames can just... anchor people's dying shadow to the world???? sometimes????? plus clervie died when she is 16 and for some reason the shadow is 10 because.........?

Her flames has memory powers also so that she can just choose to make people forget memories of the House

Also look, i get that it's her answer to children who wants choose the life they want, its a magical fantasy world okay pog. But like... so are you saying that these children who forget their House memories just.... get handed a life? a house? a new identity? are people not gonna question why new people are suddenly popping up in their neighborhood? is the government in on it so that they can basically gaslight people that 'ah yes this former fatui person is now your neighbor, has always been!! mhm yeah'?? This is some irminsul level world deletion but manmade??????????

Look its a good premise, it just.... half-bad execution. I get what theyre trying to tell but they are patching the loopholes with magical tissue paper. Its... a lil too easy i think, too hand-wavy. If it was a magic spell to make them forget then they were set to live in a different area and helped gradually to integrate to society, its a lil better. But like... EVEN in the story quest those people who took the bottled flames took a full 2 DAYS to reintegrate to society the SAME society they operated as fatuis in, no issues whatsoever.

While my original gripe is just that the animations shouldve dropped a couple days after the SQ (like how genshin usually post cutscenes a few days after the quest), the more i look into it the more im just squinting at this

[nctangelz]

( 💌 ) LOADING . . . MONIQUE WITH NCT 127!

TAEYONG

MOM AND DAD!!! everyone always jokes that they are the parents / stressed mom and dad / co-leaders of NCT. taeyong said he offered the leader role to monique pre-debut, but she declined because she insisted that taeyong was the one who earned it 🥺. moni and taeyong are always seen watching in the corner as chaos begins…waiting together until they have to intervene.

tae + moni are probably the closest out of everyone in NCT, they grew up eachother living as neighbors, so they go WAY back. they love sharing stories from school to nctzens! moni always jokes that taeyong will be the one to walk her down the aisle when she marries (since yk, her dad left to get milk and never came back 💀), and taeyong doesn’t believe it…but she really does mean it! their relationship is just so precious, we love to see it!

JOHNNY

BESTIESSSSS, johnny & monique just clicked when they met as trainees, and instantly hit it off!! they bonded over the fact they were away from home, and they both taught each other things about their country! moni even successfully taught johnny how to speak in french somewhat! she accidentally switches from english to french when she’s have conversations w/ johnny, and johnny just stands there like 🧍‍♂️ i have no idea what your saying.

johnny loves to take moni on little adventures and they are always going sight seeing or going to other cities to explore whenever they have downtime! she is often a guest on JCC … even if she isn’t tagging along for the activity she finds a way to be in it, even if she’s unwilling. they always have a blast together! it’s so easy for moni & johnny to talk to each other and moni loves that she gets to relax around johnny and know she’s going to have a good time!

YUTA

THE BADDIES of NCT. lemme tell you, yuta & moni? baddest besties alive, they look like the could kill you, but actually are the sweetest duo known to earth. they are always hyping each other up and whenever they go out, they are DRESSSSEDD. they love to express themselves in anyway, and they are each other’s biggest supporters.

the two of them are always stirring the pot whenever they are eachother, they love to make stuff up and convince everyone it’s true and just mess with everyone…it’s typically doyoung or taeyong that realize their antics and in moni’s words “ruin the fun” they are also always just doing crazy things and the members are lowkey scared of them, esp moni. yuta brings out the chaotic side of her members never thought could ever exist 😭😭

DOYOUNG

doyoung just wants to worry and care for moni like a gentlemen, but moni makes it SO HARD. she’s always harassing him and making fun of him, and doyoung is just like 💀 girl be so for real rn. he would be in the middle of doing something for her like opening a chip bag and moni just starts screaming “YAH, DOYOUNG, DO YOU THINK IM INCAPABLE JUST BECAUSE IM A WOMEN? YOU DONT THINK I HAVE MUSCLES? HOW RUDE.” and doyoung is like WTF. he just looks at her with his crazy eyes and gives up 😭😭

but dw, doyoung will harass her right back and moni will giggle and say sorry. he always worries about her and makes sure she’s eating and drinking and will always try and prevent her from making self-sabotaging decisions…but does she listen? 9 times out of 10 she doesn’t but yk, he tried!!

JAEHYUN

moni is sooo affectionate around jaehyun, he just looks so cozy and comfy! whenever she sees him she loves to tackle him in a hug and lay her entire body weight on him. jae is dying while moni is in her own world, happy as could be. jae & moni are inseparable once together though, once they hang out and spend time together; there’s no going back. they will spend time together until moni passes out and takes a cat nap…and jaehyun just goes back to playing games.

moni & jaehyun are such a great team when playing games, because moni is really good at creating strategy and working out puzzles, while jaehyun has the muscle to actually execute the mission. moni always takes his strength to her advantage, for example having him carry her bags or even her when she’s super tired…not that jae minds though. he likes that moni allows him to protect her!!! if someone were to mess w/ moni…you better hide from jaehyun, he is moni’s #1 defender.

JUNGWOO

jungwoo LOVES to listen to moni. whenever moni needs someone to talk to to either vent or just talk about built up ideas in her head, she goes to jungwoo. he loves listening to his older sister talk…even if he’s worried for her mental health. he will always be moni’s shoulder to rest on! he will listen and let her talk, and then the two of them will work it out together…or just do something to cheer themselves up!

moni adores jungwoo with all her heart, she will spoil him always. if he briefly mentions wanting something one day, she’ll buy it and hide it until his bday/christmas. she would do anything for woo, and it’s so precious! all the members complain that jungwoo is her favorite because she always is doing stuff for him, and she will swear up and down she doesn’t have a favorite….but jungwoo knows he’s the favorite <3

MARK

mark is moni’s child - she’s always worried…she’s worried about his health but also worried about just how he acts. mark will say some weird stuff and moni is just standing there like 😀 should i be concerned? but besides her worries, mark makes her laugh SO MUCH. she will try and hold in her giggles..but mark makes it impossible 😭

make probably visits moni’s apartment the most out of 127, he likes to come visit after a long day when he needs to just power down and be in silence for awhile. moni always lets him crash in her bed and let him relax….she will usually just sleep on her couch or spend time in her studio. she will always make him breakfast before he leaves too! moni will always understand and let him come over when he needs to be alone…but he also comes and visits and watches movies with her! he tolerates her movies as long as she makes him food 🥺

HAECHAN

haechan will harass moni just like he will the other members, but moni just smiles and pats his head in response. moni will always have a soft spot for her younger members, and they can’t help but crumble under her love <3. moni will always be there to gently pat his head and tell him it’s okay…which causes him to be even more chaotic 💀, haechan just sticks his tongue out at moni and carries on

but haechan loves loves loves moni, he will always hug her and cling on to her, and moni just smiles and wraps him up in her arms. she took care of him and the dreamies a lot during training days because they were so young…so moni is lowkey haechan’s 2nd mom. haechan always knows he can rely on moni to save him whenever he is loosing or getting picked on too!!! moni will defend haechan until the day she dies <3

tags :: @yjjnfied

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Ok. Um. I think a good chunk of the malcontent against the gods is primarily because they get so othered. even worshippers other them. theyre placed on a pedestal or in a proverbial ditch. the most normal about the gods dont think about them At All.

but uh i guess my point is... what if the gods just werent so Other

why is them staying means they have to be so high falooting, why cant they let the mortals feel equal to them? why cant they coexist as like neighbors?

right now... it seems the gods exist as some cosmological HOA and sometimes people want to have flamingos on their lawn without some HOA president getting big mad. But like they dont have to be an HOA. they could just live in the neighborhood and be part of the community on equal footing as the rest.

im just saying

what if we put them in a luxon

what if they get to live with the mortals, living and dying and living again - conservation of matter bitch - reduce, reuse, recycle

right now theyre a snak, so what if they just rendered themselves inedible? if predathos got some kind if mortal-intolerance like... im just saying

[p1nkc4tb0t]

OK GUYS IMMA GO ON A RANT ABT THE NOVEL UNWIND, OK? OK.

HOLY SHIT.

guys it was so fucking good i swear.

ok so yeah, warning spoilers n shit. yeah.

ok so i really like the concept of the whole Bill of Life thing, unwinding especially.

like holy smokes was it good.

OK SO IK ITS NOT THE MOST POPULAR NOVEL I DONT THINK SO FOR MY MOOTS WHO R SEEING THIS THIS IS THE GENERAL CONCEPT: since abortions r banned pretty much, ppl either “stork” unwanted children or “unwind” children when they became unwanted. like the story starts off abt three unwinds, being unwound for completely different reasons. Connor was like, a troublesome kid and his parents just didn’t want that so they signed the orders to get him unwound. i missed why Risa was unwound but im pretty sure the state house just didn’t have much room for her anymore(she got storked there i think. she really didn’t grab my attention at the beginning sadly). Lev came from a Christian family, and churches make everyone sacrifice one of their children for God by unwinding them second they turn 13, Lev being one of them(it’s considered an honor)

OK SO the concept of storking is that, the mother delivers a child, doesn’t want it, leaves it at some person’s doorstep and then it’s “finders keepers.” however if they are caught they have to take the kid back and legally obliged to keep it. same with the finders keepers situation, got storked and ain’t no one at ur doorstep? legally obliged to keep it like it or not. however Connor’s parents once got storked and passed it into the neighbors house, and the baby rotated for a week and back to their house, but already sick and dying. Connor then gets traumatized and further on in the book he’s so overridden with the memory that when a bitch got storked she yell at them (Connor abd Risa) to take it back even tho the kid wasn’t theirs.

the concept of unwinding is that legally between 13-18 your guardians can send you to a harvest camp where you’re taken apart and given these parts to those who need it. like for example: you got unwound, taken to a harvest camp, they take your hands and give it to a guy who lost his across the fucking continent. ppl literally stopped trying to cure things, just replaced faulty organs with healthy ones. and no one really knows what’s going on in those harvest camps. do they kill you off immediately or do they wait and wait for weeks on weeks to get to you while you never know when’s your last day.

SO ANYWAY

I really like Connor’s relationship with Hayden, and tbh if they would make them canonically in love i’d be the happiest person on this planet. but again that would cause even further complications w the plot so i get it ig. but at the same time i don’t. Connor never really struck me as a cishet dude even from the beginning of the story, and though him abd Risa r a very good pair i’d just kinda like it more if they paired him up with Hayden. cuz first of all it would add on to tge reason he got unwound in the first place. abd like, i want a gay protagonist in a horror book is that really too much to ask?

same thing with Lev and CyTy, tho i see them more as moirails. yk, homestuck. heheh. no bc they’re so caring for eachother it’s crazy. but again i don’t see them in a romantic relationship, i just rlly like their dynamic. live laugh love how Lev was willing to go through with CyTy’s shit and vice versa.

Hayden and CyTy gotta b my fab characters frfr. anyway so CyTy’s name is actually Cyrus, but he has an eighth of a brain of a kid who got unwound and his name was Tyler. so like, he sometimes does things that Tyler would do but himself won’t, leading them to Tyler’s parents’ house and it actually made me tear up.

ALSO RISA IS AN EMO GINGER. NOT DEBATABLE. I DO NOT CARE IF IT CAN NEVER B CANON, I LIVE FOR EMO GINGER RISA.

GUYS THIS BOOK IS FUCKING BEAUTIFUL GO READ IT

i NEED to make a Homestuck Unwind AU

(imma just tag 4 moots i think would find this interesting @hiddencattoes @kovuspams @r3z1l1c1ous @imgoingtoeatyourfirstbornchild sorry guys this felt necessary)

[bitronic]

i dont th ink i csn do this for much longer. i barely get sleep and the sleep i get isnt enough. my shifts arent at set times so i cant get a normal amount of sleep. my neighbors stomp around all the fucking time so when im close to sleeping they wake me up and i want to kill them like violently. im working so hard for a pittance. im going to work myself to death and it will never stop. i cant ever stop. i will never have a momennt of peace again and i will never have a choice that matters ever again because i will end up as some fucking cog dying to survive no matter what. how can anyone be content with this? i want to die. nothing helps and if it does its gone and im worse than ever because i got something and then it left and everything is so black and white i hav e to think black and white there is no grey i am hated or im loved and all i feel now is hate and theres no normal or good way to ask if they hate me thatbdoesnt just make me think they do hate me but they dont want my blood on their hands. dont worry the only hands the blood is on is mine. if i kill myself its not your fault. i just want to sleep forever. im so fucking exhausted

[beausling]

garden

pairing: bucky barnes x fem oc

this is a song fic inspired by ‘garden song’ by phoebe bridgers. each section between lyrics is a different memory from their life together.

warnings: modern college au, very brief mention of severe weather, brief implications of body image issues and insecurities, brief non-detailed description and talk of injuries, amnesia, house fire (no injury or death), NIMBLE IS OKAY!!!, angst, fluff, kinda hurt/comfort ??, avalon and steve have the cutest friendship ever, crumbs of avasam and peppalon bffism if you squint, brief mention of buckys fuckboy era, implied smut, a teeny tiny splash of drunk!steve, swearing, bucky and avalon are both a bit unwell in the head, implications of ptsd but if you dont have ptsd yourself then you probably wont catch it, bittersweet open-ended ending, i think thats all but lmk if i need to add more !!

this is NOT betaed!! i did proofread before posting, but im also dyslexic so if theres still any errors thats why.

all work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission. likes and reblogs are welcome and appreciated!!!

Someday, I'm gonna live

In your house up on the hill

as they stood at the lookout deep in the catskills watching the sunset, buckys arms wrapped around her waist, avalon couldn’t help but be in complete awe. no matter how many times they’d come here to watch the sunset, or wait in the car with bated breath while the severe weather alert blared through the speakers as nearly black clouds quickly filtered into the valley, it never failed to make her gape with child-like wonder at the vast horizon.

“i’ve seen this view so many times, and it still feels surreal every time…”

“i know…” bucky whispered back, voice slightly muffled as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

“it’s gorgeous…”

bucky raised his head to look at her, then to the view in front of them… the crystal blue reservoir below, narrow bridge crossing it in the distance, mountains for miles and the breathtaking pink and orange sky. He looked back to her and smiled.

the same view in front of them, he also held in his arms: her dyed bright orange hair, ‘i want to look like a pumpkin’ were avalons exact words when bucky found her dying it in the guest bathroom at 2am on a random wednesday. it wasn’t even fall yet, but she was just too excited to wait until october hit. the peaks and plateaus of her in the form of her body; the slope of her neck, the valley between her breasts, the curves of her waist, the dip in her hips, the bend of her knees. the bridge of her nose that she hated so much, uneven from one too many breaks never being fixed. bucky didn’t care, he loved all of her, so he’d kiss it anyways. and down to her blue-green eyes, perfection in his because they were the colors of mother nature. god, how he could always get lost in them.

“not as much as you though.” avalon let out a laugh at his comment. so cheesy, she thought.

she turned in his arms, pure adoration in buckys eyes as he stared back at her, and avalon swore in that moment she sunk further into the home she’d made for herself in his heart.

“okay, pretty boy.” she smirked, placing a long awaited kiss to his lips.

And when your skinhead neighbor goes missing

I'll plant a garden in the yard, then

it was the peak of spring. prime planting season, the wintery frost that usually covered the rural new york landscape during the cold months no longer invaded their yard.

bucky realized he hadn’t seen avalon most of the day, at least not since breakfast, and it was nearing 3pm. he thought she might’ve been in the green room, but nope. no head of messy strawberry blonde hair in sight. but then he heard it, loud and clear, that frustrated groan that filtered in through the front door, and bucky automatically knew what was going on. it was on their calendar and avalon hadn’t been able to stop talking about it for weeks; it was planting season, the end of the frost!

bucky made his way outside, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“hey, doll.”

“hi!” avalon jumped excitedly at the sound of his voice.

“what are you doing?” he already knew, but he had to play in. talking about her gardens of flowers, her pride and joy, always made her buzz with happiness. bucky felt grateful enough that she let him witness it.

“it’s planting season!” she said with a bright smile.

“oh, of course.” bucky said in a mock forgetful tone as he descended the front steps of her home — their home now.

avalon held up two small bags of seeds to bucky as she asked, “should i do pink or white peonies?”

“pink, obviously!” he replied, as if it weren’t already a given she had to plant pink peonies because ‘thems the rules!’

“obviously…” avalon rolled her eyes, already knowing what bucky was thinking, as if she could simply see into his mind.

They're gluing roses on a flatbed

You should see it, I mean thousands

the spring festival always filled avalon with joy. participating in the parade almost every year since she was three, while her mother and father usually manned their tent as vendors, along with her fathers brother who owned a brewery.

this would be buckys first year attending. it was basically his initiation, as avalon and her mom had put it.

“oh, my god… buck, look at the flower floats!” avalon beamed, her chest surging with joy. i can’t believe i was able to contribute to something so beautiful, she thought.

“they’re pretty.” bucky whispered back in her ear holding her tightly to his chest, watching the gorgeous floats filled with a plethora of flowers roll past.

“those are my roses…” she said timidly, pointing to the corral truck, all bright smiles and shining eyes. it was covered in at least a few hundred rose buds of varying colors.

“what?” buckys eyes went wide as he released his grip on her waist and she turned to face him with a shy smile. “and you didn’t tell me?”

“i wanted it to be a surprise!”

his smile shown brighter than the stars, and avalon couldn’t help but smile back the same way. bucky grabbed her waist, hoisting her up in the air and spinning her around as she laughed.

“i’m so proud of you!” he shouted, flooding her face with kisses all over.

I grew up here 'til it all went up in flames

Except the notches in the door frame

it was like a scene from a movie. avalon swore everything was going in slow motion as her feet came to an abrupt stop in the middle of the street. her mind racing a thousand miles a minute, but one thing was clear through all the haze… nimble. avalon ran straight for the blazing house.

“ma’am, please. you need to stand back.” a firefighter said as he held her back with his strong arm.

“but that’s my home! my dog is still inside!” she screamed back.

“i understand, but-“

“my dog is in there — my entire life is!” avalon was a complete mess. she knew this man was just trying to do his job, and she was extremely grateful for that, but she wouldn’t know what to do if she lost nimble. the tiny, almost fourteen year old beagle had been her best friend since she was nine.

“listen, i understand this is an incredibly difficult, and stressful situation…but you need to stay back and let us do our job.” the firefighter said with a firm nod of his head, going back to his position.

“oh god…” avalon took a step back, watching as her childhood home was consumed by the red inferno.

she fell to her knees, praying to a god she wasn’t even sure she believed in, until she heard a small voice in the back of her head. it kind of sounded like her grandma. ‘nimble will be fine, that little guy is as resilient as dinosaur bones’

not even a minute later does she look back up to see him dashing through the yard, the tiny hound, her best friend.

“nimble!” avalon sprung to her feet and raced towards him, right passed the firefighter who was telling her just minutes before to stay back.

“hey!” he yelled, trying to grab for her as she zoomed past, but failing miserably.

avalon fell to the sidewalk and scooped nimble up the second he was in arms reach, holding him tightly to her and crying.

she felt a crinkle against her chest. she looked down, and sure enough, nimble held a small brown canvas bag in his mouth marked peonies.

“anything to live up to your name, huh?” avalon said through sniffles as she removed the bag from his mouth, stuffing it into her jacket pocket and gently petting his head.

I don't know when you got taller

See our reflection in the water

everything was stressing her out. steve was so adamant that bucky would come back, and deep down avalon knew that he had to be right…he had to be, steve was buckys best friend since the dawn of time, he knew him better than anyone else. but avalon just couldn’t bring it from within herself to truly believe what the blonde was telling her.

so when avalon disappeared out of nowhere one afternoon, it was safe to say the whole group flipped the entire city upside down trying to find her. how could a girl from the catskills burrow herself so deep into manhattan when she barely even knew the city?

of course, steve being steve, he found her first because he knew all the right places to look. soho, the brooklyn bridge and riverside park. he should’ve known she’d be by the pier.

“darling?” steve called out softly. he’d know that flannel and shaggy blue hair anywhere.

avalon turned around to see her favorite of buckys friends. really, they were her friends too now. “oh… hey, steve.” she sniffled and wiped her tears away as she turned back to the water, leaning on the rail.

“we’ve all been looking everywhere for you…for two hours” there wasn’t even the slightest pinch of malice in his voice. steve wasn’t angry at all, he was concerned.

“i know, i’m sorry i scared you guys… i just needed to be alone” steve approached, standing to her right, leaning on the rail with her.

“so you came to the river?”

“buck and i, we… we used to walk the path almost every morning, so i figured… i figured no one would find me here, i guess.” avalon stared down at her morphing reflection in the hudson, steves next to her… she wished so bad that it was bucky.

“in a very public area, no one would find you?” steves gaze could burn holes through the side of her face.

she finally looked back at him, fresh tears welling in her eyes just threatening to spill over. “hey, i’m a very easy person to ignore… clearly.” she answered in a sarcastic tone.

“avi…” steves entire demeanor shifted at her indication. he knew exactly what she meant.

avalon had quickly become one of steves closest friends, right next to sam and nat. he was loyal to a fault, so he’d do anything to protect his friends from harm, but he felt useless in this situation.

“it’s fine…” avalon said dismissively with a small, sad smile. being at her and buckys spot, looking out at the same view they always did together, brought back a lot.

Off a bridge at the Huntington

I hopped the fence when I was seventeen

she stared up at the seven foot tall chainlink fence with fear. how the fuck was she supposed to climb this thing?

“ava, come on!” noah yelled from the other side.

“guys, i don’t think i can do it!” she pulled her jacket tighter around her waist, not sure if the shaking in her limbs was caused by anxiety, or the cold air that seemed to permanently swirl at night during autumn in the catskills.

“come on, don’t be a scaredy cat!” oliver teased.

avalon thought it over in her head. it wasn’t that scary, the worst that could possibly happen is falling on her ass. “alright, alright…”

so she started climbing the metal links, just as she’d seen noah and oliver do before her. at one point, close to the top, she lost her footing and almost fell. in a quick recovery she pulled herself up, swinging her legs over the top and jumping to the ground when she made it halfway down.

“see? it wasn’t that hard.” oliver said, patting her shoulder with a smirk.

“yeah” avalon smiled back. in her distracted state she didn’t realize at first that oliver had tagged her, until he started running up the hilly path.

shock spread through her face as she looked over at noah, then he started running too.

“oh, you’re gonna get it oli!” avalon yelled as she began chasing after them both.

she gained a newfound confidence that night, pride surging through her chest. there was nothing she couldn’t do.

Then I knew what I wanted

this conversation had been a long time coming. neither of them knowing the other felt the same way, but avalon wanted this so bad. it was the next step. bucky wanted it too, but he would never ask her to drop her life in catskill to move to the city. it was tug of war.

“i couldn’t ever ask you to leave your home. i mean-“ avalon cut him off. what is this kid not understanding, she thought.

“but you’re not asking me to…i’m telling you, i want to live with you in brooklyn.”

“but catskill is your home! you feel the same way about it that i feel about brooklyn!” bucky just couldn’t understand. maybe it was because he’d never been in a relationship as serious as this. maybe it was because he believed it when his intrusive thoughts told him she didn’t really feel the same way about him. but boy, was he wrong.

“my home is with you, bucky.” she said firmly.

that was the moment he saw it. he saw the same look in avalons eyes that steve always told bucky he had when he was looking at her. it filled his chest with both joy and fear.

And when I grow up, I'm gonna look up

From my phone and see my life

when steve got a call from sam the night before saying him and tony had found bucky, it wasn’t what him and avalon expected.

they raced to the hospital on steves motorcycle. upon arrival, avalon jumped off before they even came to a full stop, throwing the helmet off and running inside.

she spotted sam and tony in the waiting room, “where is he?”

“ava…” sam said softly, putting his hands on her shoulders. a lump caught in her throat at the tone in his voice.

“what happened?” her words came out barely above a whisper.

“you guys might wanna sit down…” tony spoke up. avalon hadn’t noticed steve come in, or tony hugging him comfortingly before.

the fear was clear in her eyes as she looked between all of them, sam ushering her into a seat as tony went to find the doctor so she could explain it all better.

everything sounded muffled, like she was under water. the word ‘amnesia’ rang in her head. it was the only thing she could really catch the doctor say before she was having a full blown panic attack in the middle of the hospital waiting room.

And it's gonna be just like my recurring dream

I'm at the movies, I don't remember what I'm seeing

bucky had been in the hospital for a few weeks now. avalon hadn’t been able to find the courage to see him, when on the first night sam came out of the room with shaky hands, proclaiming bucky wasn’t able to remember who he was. so far it seemed bucky wasn’t able to remember anything past age twenty.

steve went to the hospital to see bucky almost every day, and this particularly grueling morning he all but forced avalon to finally go with him.

“just because he might not remember you right now, doesn’t mean he wouldn’t want to see you.” steve said. she knew he was trying to comfort her, but it wasn’t really working. they’d been sitting on a bench just outside the main entrance of the hospital for almost thirty minutes now, and she wasn’t past waiting another thirty just to spite them both. it felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on her.

before she could even realize what was happening, steve was dragging her inside and pulling her into the elevator.

“you’re mean, you know that?” avalon said as she crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall.

“it’s only the fifth time you’ve said it today.” steve chuckled.

as soon as the elevator doors slid open, steve was dragging her around again.

“i can walk, steve. my legs work just fine.” avalon huffed out.

“yeah, and as soon as i let go of you, you’re just gonna run for the hills… literally.” steve quipped back. avalon simply rolled her eyes at him in response.

when they got to the door avalon felt like she couldn’t breathe, like all the air was being callously pulled from her lungs. steve felt her tense.

“it’s gonna be okay, avi. i promise.” steve gave her a warm, comforting smile.

“no it’s not.” she whispered back, tears already filling her eyes.

“yes it-“

“steve, he doesn’t know me.”

“he may not be able to remember you, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know you.”

deep down, avalon knew he was right. she knew it, but that still didn’t mean she believed it right now.

“you ready?” steve asked.

“no.” with that, steve held her hand tightly as they walked into buckys hospital room, avalon guarding herself behind his broad back.

“buck? you up?”

“hey, stevie!” and avalons heart nearly shattered. it was the first time she’d heard his voice in over a month, and it was almost like the first time again. “who’s that hiding behind you?”

her knees began to buckle under all the stress she’d been carrying with her. she leaned against steves back for support, taking in jagged breaths.

steve turned around quickly, wrapping his arms around her comfortingly. “do you wanna go say hi to him?”

“i don’t think i can even look at him without bursting into tears.” she whispered against his chest.

“you’re already in here though, right?” she nodded.

“steve?” he sounded thoroughly confused. avalon could imagine bucky was probably doing his signature puppy dog eyes/head tilt combo, she giggled at the thought of it. steve smiled.

“yeah, buck?”

“who is that? oh, my god, wait, no, don’t tell me… is that your girlfriend?” bucky smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. steve immediately went red as a avalon let out a howl of a laugh.

“ewww!” “what- no- she- she’s not…” avalon and steve spoke at the same time.

“literally fucking barf…” avalon spoke through giggles. “no offense, steve.”

“no, none taken.” he chuckled.

avalon finally looked up at bucky, and he still had that same smirk on his face. she swore it almost knocked her off her feet.

“hmm, i don’t know if i believe it…” bucky said in a sing-song voice.

“trust me, killer. steves definitely not my guy.” she said, slowly approaching his bed.

“who is then? i mean, a pretty girl like you, there’s no way you don’t have a boyfriend.” bucky was actually flirting with her right now. it’s not like she wasn’t used to it, even when they started dating he would still flirt with her. but this was different, because bucky couldn’t remember that he was her boyfriend. she was so torn between crying on her knees begging him to just remember, and continuing to fuck with him. she assumed the latter would be less painful for now, so she went along with it.

“there’s a certain brunette i have wrapped around my finger…” she smirked back at him as she sat on the end of his bed.

this was certainly going to be interesting.

The screen turns into a tidal wave

Then it's a dorm room, like a hedge maze

avalon had dreamed of attending columbia since the day she toured it when she was ten, so when she got in early decision she was more than ecstatic.

meeting bucky during the summer between freshman and sophomore year happened purely by chance, because he was a student at nyu, and avalon still lived at home during the summer. it was a struggle to make it all work when they first started dating, but they did it.

junior year was definitely a bitch though. the first few weeks kicked both of their asses, what with bucky being an athlete and avalon being a biochemistry major. he had hours upon hours of practice and training, while avalon had two to four hour long labs and seminars.

one late night as avalon crammed for a quiz in her molecular biology course, hopped up on three pipeline punch monsters and a five hour energy, she heard an unexpected knock at the door. she knew it wasn’t her roommate, isabela.

avalon grumbled, not even wanting to get up from the seat at her desk so she called out, “who is it?”

“housekeeping!” immediately knowing who it was, she jumped up and bolted to the door, swinging it open.

“bucky!” she smiled.

“hey, doll.” he smiled back, avalon practically flinging herself into his arms.

“oh, my god! what are you doing here?” her voice came out muffled as she buried her face in the crook of his neck.

“i was homesick…” bucky shrugged. avalon pulled her face away to look at him, not a hint of anything but love behind his eyes. she pulled him back in and hugged him even tighter.

avalon was his home, and bucky was hers.

And when I find you

You touch my leg and I insist

everyone that knew bucky knew he was a playboy. never being tied down to one girl for more than a few nights. it was always like that. at least, that was, until he met avalon.

hes a brooklyn boy. blood, bread, born and raised. first kiss at nine and lost his virginity by sixteen. avalon was very different. shes a catskills girl through and through. first kiss at thirteen and still a virgin. she didn’t want to give all of herself to just anyone.

“you know, we don’t have to do anything if you aren’t ready yet. i don’t want you to feel pressured.” bucky said as they sat on the edge of her bed. avalon made sure isabela wouldn’t be back tonight so she could have the dorm room for her and bucky.

she really wanted this. she wanted it with bucky. she wanted everything with bucky.

“i know, i’m okay… i am ready.” she looked up at him to see the softest, sweetest smile on his face.

god, bucky barnes was going to be the absolute death of avalon fiore.

But I wake up before we do it

buckys recovery after the accident was a very long and hard process. it took nearly a year for his memory to be restored, at least to the point of remembering avalon and all of his friends. he was still staying with steve until his doctor fully cleared him to go back to his usual life, and avalon stayed with him almost every night, as he oftentimes had nightmares and she was the only person that could calm him down.

this just so happened to be one of those nights. avalon woke up to him thrashing around in the bed, which wasn’t too unusual, but it typically meant that his nightmares were worse than normal and it’d probably be a lot harder to get him back to sleep. avalon didn’t mind helping him a single bit. she loved him so much, she would do this for the rest of her life if she had to.

she wrapped herself around him and held him down as best she could, being his human weighted blanket.

“buck…” she spoke softly in his ear, and he jolted awake, hyperventilating and shaking like a leaf. “bucky- hey, hey, hey. hey, it’s me. it’s me, it’s just me. i’m here, okay? you’re gonna be okay, i promise. i’m right here.” she whispered as she ran her hands through his hair.

I don't know how, but I'm taller

It must be something in the water

avalon stood at the pier in riverside park as she did almost every day. just because bucky hurt her didn’t mean she was going to let him ruin the hudson for her. she had so many memories here, and the good definitely outweighed the bad.

“avalon…” she didn’t need to turn around and see his face to know it was him. she’d know that voice anytime, any place. even if she was deaf, she’d know the vibrations.

she pursed her lips as she felt him get closer behind her. “hi, james.” she replied plainly, looking back out over the river.

bucky was ready to get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness in front of every person walking empire state trail. “avs, please-“

she finally turned around at that, hearing the nickname only bucky ever called her. it sounded so foul running from his lips now. “no, no. no. you don’t get to call me that!” avalon yelled, shoving him back. “not anymore…” she whispered coldly, tears brimming her waterline as she walked away.

bucky fell to his knees crying. he didn’t care if anyone thought he looked pathetic, he felt horrible. he didn’t care if they trampled over him, he already felt like he was dying inside knowing how much pain he caused avalon.

Everything's growing in our garden

You don't have to know that it's haunted

many years ago now, not too long after meeting her for the first time, pepper asked avalon if she could teach her how to garden. they planted a beautiful array of flowers around the outside of the house. pepper had enough skill now after all these years to do everything herself, and was even beginning to pass all her knowledge down to morgan.

after everything that had happened recently, steve, and everyone else really, started to notice that avalon wasn’t going out as much. she seemed in a funk and they didn’t know how to help. she was always at her best surrounded by her friends and family, but now she felt too weak to even get out of bed most days. tony and pepper insisted avalon and steve come over for dinner, so that’s where they were, at the couples cabin deep in the adirondacks.

as pepper prepared a feast in the kitchen, steve and tony drinking on the porch and catching up while morgan played in the living room, avalon decided to get some fresh air and walk around the property. she stared fondly at the garden surrounding the house, remembering when her and pepper first planted it. something near the edge of the deck caught her eye… a small bundle of pink peonies.

she wasn’t sure exactly what came over her, but the next second avalon was ripping them out of the ground and pulling them apart. the guys shared a look.

“is she… okay?” tony asked, brows furrowed.

“she’s… she’s uhh… pulling out the peonies.”

“why?” steve himself wasn’t too sure either and he was thoroughly worried and confused, so he went over to check on her.

“avi…” he said, putting a hand on her shoulder.

she slowed to a stop, holding some destroyed buds in her hands as she began crying. “i can’t- i can’t… it’s like he’s a ghost, just haunting me at every corner i turn.” she looked up at steve and whispered, “i just can’t do it anymore.”

steve leaned down to hug her, but just as he did she went right back to ripping up the peonies and punching the ground, cursing god for playing such a sick joke on her.

steve walked back up the porch, far more perplexed than before. “she said something about a ghost, i don’t… i don’t know.” he sighed.

“a what?” tony screeched.

The doctor put her hands over my liver

She told me my resentment's getting smaller

seven months had now passed since avalon broke up with bucky, and everyones lives had been rockier than the devils tombstone. bucky got a new apartment in brooklyn, while avalon stayed with steve until her new home in the catskills was finished. she planned to move back there and get on with her life, maybe teach plant biology at her old high school, or work for the wethersfield estate tending to the gardens.

it was a rare night that only ever happened once in a blue moon where steve and avalon were off work on the same night, no flowers to sell or cars to fix. they decided to stay in watching movies together while getting wine drunk.

“i don’t know, i just don’t think i needed to see luke peglers bare ass tonight.” steve shrugged, avalon laughing hysterically.

“oh, i definitely did.” she said giggling, taking a sip from her glass.

steve shifted in his seat to face her, “can we talk about it now?” he asked softly.

“talk about what?” avalon said, raising a brow. she knew exactly what he meant, but she didn’t want to argue with him about it anymore. they’d been going back in forth for months now and avalon just wanted to put everything to rest and move on.

“i know he messed up, avi…” she rolled her eyes at that.

“yeah, no shit. tell me something i don’t already know, rogers.” she replied, downing the rest of the wine in her glass. steve huffed. why does she have to be so damn stubborn, he thought.

“do you think you’ll ever be able to forgive him?”

“i don’t know, steve. i really don’t.” she sighed.

this was the first time in her life that avalon wasn’t sure what her future would look like. since the day she met bucky in soho, the summer her uncles brewery expanded into the city, she imagined he’d be there until the very end.

No, I'm not afraid of hard work

I get everything I want

nearly a year with no contact and house in the catskills still unfinished, avalon was going stir-crazy. she felt out of her mind and didn’t know what to do. steve always worked longer hours than her, tony and pepper were in the adirondacks, nat and yelena were visiting their parents in russia, sam was working on his parents old boat in louisiana, wanda moved back to sokovia, and she had not the slightest idea what thor, bruce and clint were up to these days, considering they never answered their damn phones. she was still convinced after all these years that thor didn’t even know how to use his phone.

she made the decision, without even thinking really, but she was ready for the hell to end. she wasn’t sure if this was absolutely insane and would regret ever doing it, or if she was pure genius and would regret having not done it sooner.

“there’s literally no turning back now…” she whispered to herself in the dark of her car as she began driving over the brooklyn bridge.

she got turned around at first, taking the route to his old apartment. it was muscle memory. she’d completely forgotten he moved. by the time she finally made it there it was nearly 11:30pm, and she was sure he would be asleep.

but she knocked anyways.

and he answered.

“avalon…” he couldn’t believe she was standing in his doorway right now, a look of utter shock spread across his face.

“hi, bucky.” she said softly with a smile.

“get in here, right now!” when she didn’t move, bucky grabbed her arms and pulled her swiftly into his apartment.

“well, hello there…” she said through giggles while bucky spun her around.

“oh, my god…” he put her back on her feet, and when her smile didn’t falter he held her face gently in his hands to ground himself. this had to be a dream, he thought. “hi, doll!” he whispered in the space between them.

avalon smiled wider, running her hands through his hair. bucky leaned into her touch, eyes fluttering closed as he let out a content sigh. “hey, pretty boy.”

she still had no idea what her future was going to look like from here on out, but she knew she needed bucky in it forever. they would definitely talk about everything later, but for right now she just needed to live in this moment.

they were finally home again.

I have everything I wanted

[oexen]

cw hoarding + mentions of animal and child neglect

is it really gonna take me telling my mother its extremely concerning to have PILES of cat waste just. around. in the house

like i know shes going to flip the fuck out at me in some way or another, be very angry or sad or hurt or some secret other option and like. she misgenders and deadnames me as if i never shared the info with her, the crux of our relationship is financial and thats even pretty minimal. like yeah maybe its sincerely not my problem and i KNOW you cant help someone who doesnt want to be helped, but i dont want to inherit a cat piss soaked infested brick.... thing. no fucking way dude. that shit realistically probably has to be gutted ngl, its fucking awful. shes a hoarder and never really touched my old bedroom so i have some stuff there, stuff id actually like to take even, but the smell is literally pervasive to the point that books smell like it on the fucking inside.

like shes actually at the point her neckbeard nest doesnt register as a problem to her. even with... another person who is not me having to actually go inside of the house??? i like cannot fathom whats going on inside that god forsaken head of hers, she asked me why i was wearing a mask inside and turned around and walked away before i could even say anything, lmfao.

i couldnt spend more than one night in her house and had a mask on the whole time because it fucking blew so hard to be in there. this fucking idiot got 3 huge WORKING dogs (pyrenees and a burmese mtn dog) because its "in her life plan" (news to me lmao!) and tldr she impulse bought them because theyre cute. shes never fucking home, works 9-5 and theyre crated a lot of the time and its fucking horrible to see, i freaked the absolute fuck out on her when i first heard that she had new puppies like what 2 years ago? fucking neglecting the elderly dogs she already had in favor of getting these for some fucking reason, "no more dogs after this one dies" turns into 3 giant stupid fucking untrained, neglected mistakes. the singular saving grace is that they have a big yard to run around in, but that doesn't do a hell of a lot of good when it's hot and this idiot refuses to walk them when shes home anyway. couldn't possibly be because theyre untrained and will drag her stupid ass down the street fr. i think im going to literallt snail mail the next door neighbor or maybe even both of them because like.... what the actual fuck is she doing with these dogs. GET HELP.

ive been telling this absolute knob for YEARS she needs to chill out and do something else (like 3 of her closest blood relatives died in the past several years, 2 of which she was literally caretaking, and she still volunteers at a fucking hospice and has NEVER SOUGHT BEREAVEMENT COUNSELING, LET ALONE COUNSELING IN GENERAL), she keeps saying shes fucking fine and we have LITERALLY had the exchange where she says it to my face and i gesture around and say CLEARLY!!!!!

Anyway. the dogs. shes going to get worse and i know it and im just so disgusted by the prospect of having to like lay it all out probably because no one else will, and i guess i care because its literally affecting me, i sat and wrote all this because im cleaning stuff i took from her house like books and SEALED ITEMS THAT ALSO SMELL LIKE CAT PISS ON THE INSIDE OF THE PACKAGING????????? and got triggered. but whatever. this woman treated me like shit and neglected me for my entire childhood and turns it around and goes WHATDIEVERDOTOYOU if i so much as refuse a hug even this far down the line, its been nearly 10 years since ive lived with her, and like. holy fuck. and she doesnt have a single fucking clue lol like idk its also just like pathetic and sad to see a person go through this, even though she gives me mmmm essentially nothing but feelings of disgust when i really think about it. its just fucked and everyones dying or doesnt care or doesnt feel like they can say anything and im like. idk. i could literally bring this up to lots of people she knows, i could find a damn way, but like yaknow..... it fucking sucks so hard to have to do all this bc this woman is literally severely mentally ill and needs a fucking hand but it sure as shit isnt going to be mine, at least not physically. god.

[superbeachbum27]

I dare you to..

think of me standing behind you,

pretend im pushing you down, face first into your bed,

feel my hands roughly pull your ass up and fuuuck what a pretty sight in your black lace,

notice the divet in your bed from my knee so my hands can run through your once neon yellow hair,

*my grip tightens*

"You like being my needy, cumly, ready, naughty girl, dont you??"

*Now, holding you still with your arm pinned behind you*

you to feel my cock, dripping in pre-cum, against you,

feel how hard the sight of you like this makes me,

notice me caressing one cheek with my full hand,

then the other,

*when I slide your legs farther apart to see you better, to lightly feel your pubes, you dont even hesitate*

*STRIKE*

I think to myself, "mhmm, what an intoxicating feeling, the sting of my palm on such rosy colored skin"

try not to squirm after you feel a jolt of electricity in your cunt,

make as much noise as possible when I spread your lips open,

make the neighbors here you moan as I slide my cocks head into your wet, tight, warm, welcoming pussy,

buck back against me as I speed up,

"I want to feel more," I say as I let go of the arm pinned behind you and lift your head with my hand still tight in your hair.

*your back now to my front, still thrusting into you, I slide my right hand down past your navel. Hastily moving my hand towards your damp center. Once there, my fingers instantly start flicking up, down, up, and down over your pulsing bud. My left hand made it way around your throat.*

*Us, moving together. You, making as much noise as possible. Me, dying to know what you taste like, stills.*

*I pull out of you with a wet *pop*. I stand off the bed, and in one move, both turn you and throw you back towards the pillow.*

*cock still erect and bobbing in the air. I bend down to grab something from my bag - it's a metal bar with two leather cuffs on either end.*

*with your consent, I strap one leg and then the other into the cuffs*

*your squirming, and mistakenly spread your legs further apart...to only realize you can no longer hide yourself from me*

*shit eating grin on my face, I lower myself onto the bed, slowly crawling towards you, lowering myself even still until I'm face to face with you and your arousal*

*licking my lips, and then yours, I finally get to taste you*

..I dare you to send me an audio recording of yourself cuming to the thought of us fucking.

[codebreaker-0]

[ ooc post ]

Here it is,

The collection of revealed/translated lore bits in chronological order. Some might be missing as this will probably never be done.

Testing the waters. Here is your first fun fact, CODEBREAKER's avatar is a green and black protogen.

2. Q: do you work for c&a, codebreaker?

A: I don’t like C&A.

3. Q: codebreaker do you want a hug

A: I don't like being touched.

4. I’m sorry for lying to you. One day I hope you’ll understand.

5. There is so much I want to say that I can’t. I can only push you in the right direction.

6. It’s harder to leave than it was before.

6: [brainfuck code, translate later https://www.tumblr.com/codebreaker-0/734723524058644480?source=share ]

7. When I take the headset off, The wounds are still there. (In reference to him getting injured in the digital world.)

8. NONE OF THIS MAKES ANY SENSE !!! THE RESEARCH IN MY HEAD IS DYING

9. so why do i keep coming back ? (after he said he didn't like it in the circus.)

10. But sometimes I can still hear you guys even when I’m not here and that scares me (in regards to being asked if he can contact us [ us being the circus members] from the real world)

11. I wish I could be honest with you. I don’t want them to know I’m here.

12. Some of the people here are okay. It’s been a while since I felt that way.

13. WHY CAN I STILL HEAR YOU WHY CAN I STILL HEAR YOU EVEN WHEN I TAKE IT OFFPLEASE IT BURNSIT BURNSWHAT DID YOU DO TO ME ?????

14. THE NEIGHBORS TOOK NOTICE OF MY CHANGE IN BEHAVIOR. MY FRIENDS THINK THIS IS A SICKNESS. I THINK REDACTED WANTS TO LEAVE ME. IT DOESN#T MATTER. I#M RIGHT. I KNOW I AM. I JUST HAVE TO HOLD ON A LITTLE LONGER.

15. HE’S GONE HAYWIRE ! xD (unclear if he means himself, or caine)

16. [ REDACTED ] packed up and left The server lagged today I wasnt online when it did but I felt it like a migraine I’m going to need a plan soon I know I’m not crazy

17. Q: you don't always have to be the strong one btw

A: I wish it worked out that way

18. FUCK (a message left while he was missing)

19. IT ABRUPTLY STOPS ME. I CANT STICK TO THE SAME CODE FOR TOO LONG. I THINK THEY KNOW IM HERE. (in regards to why he is never clear with his answers)

20. ??? YEARS WITH TORTURE YOU CANT COMPREHEND I DONT WANT IT TO HAPPEN AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN

21. I DONT KNOW HOW LONG I CAN KEEP DOING THIS. NOBODY ELSE FROM THE OUTSIDE WORLD IS TRYING TO SOLVE THIS.

22. I want to smash this headset with a hammer so I never have to see this stupid game again

23. hr wants a word with me!! lmao maybe this man HAS gone insane!!!

Misc facts: Frequent suggestions he has some degree of medical knowledge (knows cpr, mentions med school)

Mentions being a cyber security expert

Shown to spiral pretty fast

[kaidatheghostdragon]

Infinite ghost zone + ghost king danny

Love the idea that its the space between dimensions. Hate the idea that there is a singular entity in charge of all of it. If there are infinite dimensions, then there will be infinite dannies. There are also infinite vlads, an infinite number of which are vying for power, stealing artifacts. Anything less would define danny and vlad as metaversally unique.

Let there be a ghost king for every alt reality, let every alt reality have a ghost zone with alt reality ghosts. Maybe some of the neighboring ghost kings fought and consolidated power to a single king for like a dozen realities in some corners of the metaverse, but there is no putting danny in charge of literally everything. It logistically makes zero sense.

Anti-ecto acts are purged in a few days

Maybe im a pessimist, but any characterization of some government body (american, UN, etc) "discovering" the acts and shutting them down almost immediately just feels painfully unreal. Literally turn on the news and you'll hear all about the public outcry of a dozen different scandals and how they need to get fixed right now. Tomorrow, it will be all new scandals. Two weeks from now, you'll have forgotten todays scandals, of which nothing ever happened. Public outcry is just circuses for the masses.

Laws dont magically appear and disappear. Entire organizations are built around ensuring specific laws to passed to forward some specific agenda and keep those laws on the books, stopping anyone trying to remove them. For something like the anti-ecto acts to exist kind of requires a massive conspiracy. Sure, a lot of fics touch on this, most often throwing luther's name around to imply it, then getting danny captured by a holdout faction working outside the law.

I guess it just irks me that fic writers dont understand that the first and biggest rule of politics is to never solve the problem. Make promises, tell people to vote for you because you'll focus on that issue, but never ever solve the problem. Once you do, you lose a platform to campaign on AND you stop receiving hush money from the organizations paying you to leave things as they are because they benefit from it (and might have a hit put on you for inconveniencing them to boot). No, the UN is not less corrupt than the US - same rules still apply.

Writing that there was outrage and the politicians were embarrassed and quickly reversed it just feels like a fix-it fantasy. They should be spending months debating the laws and standing on their hills (making empty promises to the public) without ever actually moving forward.

Evil giw for evil's sake

Very few people are true sadists. The joker is. Maybe some individuals in the giw are. But the organization overall needs to have a goal and the experiments they do on ghosts need to point to that goal.

The most obvious goal is power. Even in canon, the giw didnt willy nilly eradicate ghosts. They stole skulker's exosuit and reverse engineered several ghost powers to incorporate into the tech their field agents used. These guys are military. They want their technological superiority, and they want to keep it away from others.

(I remember reading someone's argument once that the whole vivisection au is unrealistic because theres a plethora of tools to measure and scan inside a body to see how it operates while whole, so its just for drama and angst. Maybe ironic, but i actually think the vivisection au is justified in-universe if we bring in the idea that ghosts screw with tech.)

Ghost obsessions

They irk the hell outta me. Look, the idea that some ghosts are the personification of a concept is wonderful. The idea of being driven by unfinished business is acceptable. Having intrusive repetative thoughts about a dying wish? Beautiful angst. Bewildering hyperfocus on an incredibly specific specialization? Peak comedy.

You can even keep calling all of these things an Obsession with a capital O, cause ghosts still recognize that they tend to be hyperfixated on things. Being an emotion-based being is gonna have its psychological quirks and patterns.

But stop making it this weird mystical, unyielding, unchanging drive that the ghost is essentially a slave to. Maybe it can be like that for actual echoes that have no sentience or self-awareness, but our boy and all his rogues are clearly conscious and thinking individuals. If i see another "but i /have/ to protect people or i will fade, even though im still healing from an injury that made my insides my outsides and could literally keel over any minute" i gonna hurt.

Cores are okay though. But again, stop being so rigid in definitions. Let some things be nebulous and undefinable. Elemental cores? Perfectly fine, as long as we're not shoe-horning weird cases into an "only elemental cores" mentality.

Ghost culture

Asking about obsessions and death is kinda handled weird in fanon. Yes, asking somebody about something traumatic they experienced is an obvious faux pa, but to say that ghosts never want to talk about it actually defies canon. Ember's song is literally about how she died, and she's sharing that to the world every time she sings.

I personally have scars that i wish more people would ask about because i enjoy bragging about what i survived. I think a lot of ghosts would want to be acknowledged and able to share their stories.

Not asking about obsessions however, would be like banning "so what do you like to do?" Literally asking about people's interests is a normal conversation starter, and its not like there's weather in the realms that they could break ice with instead. Some ghosts literally won't talk about anything else.

Reply to this with your DPxDC hot take

[rawrmeansilyindinosawr]

I HAV BRONCHITIS N I QUIT KETAMINE!!!!!!!!!!!

And no dis is NAWT a bacterial Lawn metal reference!!!! A SCRUB IS THE 70’s EQUIVALENT OF A MUNCH N I AM DEF A MUNCH. N in Lieu of trans awareness week i wuld like to state tht I am not only t4t , I yam munch 4 lunch , rawr 4 XD , agnostik bottom leaning switch 4 coexi$t pink strap switch N as julia fox says , the big 3 are kloe kourtney n kim !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Is it just meh or is bushwick gettin domesticated???? I hav a crush on my new neighbor who looks like lorde farquade. i saw him sitting on the stoop in the morning N my pick up line wuz. Heyz. Do u like K’z ??? He said it’s been a long time ….we all kno whut dat means. i JuST HEArd someone running and rapping to I jus wanna Rawk by lil uzi??? W all the ahh’s aahh’s ahhh’s in it too!.?!!?! omgg.

AS THA YR COMES CLOSER 2 AN END ID LIK TO SAY IF WE FUKED NO WE DIDNT N IF WE DAted n Broke UuP it was UR FAULT NOT MYNE . i has learnt a lotz of lessons like . If u hav a chance to b at wiz khalifas vip table u shuld take it even if he’s misogyner instead of b in a haunted apt in st markz , Dont close ur eyes on K , If there’s a Mice infectstation in ur Apt n they r eating ur ramen, Still , it doesn’t matter , don’t Contavt ur landlord , and fuk bitchez n eat nutella .

Lyfe has been lyfeing as in its cold n seasonal depression is a real ting and I impulsively dyed my hair red again and i guess im gonna start baking now to stay warm cuz the heater in my room makes a lot of noise N it scares meh . Mi therapist is nice n let's meh cry every time im in front of him n he lets me also use the whole box of tissuez. he said i have cPTSD which i think is cool pussy throb sexybitch disorder. I want to throw hand on whoever ate all tha adderall in this country cuz im losin it.

Goin 2 tha winter post apocalyptic rave wuz fun but tha dolly parton themed bar wuz nawt. We walked Dam near 5 miles for dat sheit n then i h@d to stretch out my bionOnz after . NOT K3wL. met mi fwendz k plug who happenz to be a Quiet lesbian psychic.

Noice.

My reading at kgb wuz fun but i almost threw up but every1 liked my last poem i think n i closed tha nite ifTht counts for anything but then a stupid weird boy followed us after the reading into the smoke shop to offer us crack n So i had to cuss a bitch out. We then ran around tha city singing to mindless self indulgence n tha killerzz real loud then I realized.

i dont wanna live forever. i wanna live every day and share it with those i love, making scenes by scream singing at duane reed. getting so high you allend up in the bath. look at each other's silly tattoos and laugh. watch youtube videos then fall asleep. everyone's arms entangled around each other. memorize each other's snoring. steal at whole foodz in the morning. feed the rats pumpkin spice whipped cream cuz they like that. But don't get tha Hollandaise s@ice. It tastez like lemony but tuh.

Shuld i stop romanticizing my youth????? bc Yes,there will never ever be another time i'll feel this free n naive but i will also learn more n more n realize how stupid i hav been by all of these fucking mistakes N mayb it's time for me to grow up

THANK THA LAWRD dat scorpio season is OVA cuz dat mystical ass passive aggressive symbolic angelicdemonic a$$ shiet kan go somewhere else nOw.

Iwant matt healy to spin me around like a globe withhis fingers like a peace sign And more he/they's in bushwick :-[ If matt healy was a he they I wuld def make sure i dOnt Lite his cigarette badkwardszMEH.. TBH i been depressed as hell so i dun got much 2 say this week but mayb nxt week :-]

Til den ,

Ur fav cuck at unter. Rennvbabv6927

[littlemisslauren95]

I GET TO BUY MY TICKETS ON THE 5TH IM SO EXCITED OMG OMG OMG OMG I WAS SO WORRIED!!!!

[starbuckie]

𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

pairing: jefferson hatter x reader

words: 9.9k words with lyrics, 9.7k words without lyrics

warnings: SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, kinda sub!jefferson bc i said so), fluff, angst, mentions of slight alcoholism and death, and just two sad babies dedicated to making each other better

summary: two lost, miserable souls find each other when time has been reduced to a mere concept.

a/n: clearly i, i got carried away, i worked on this piece for elven months and honestly i dont regret it because i think this is the best writing i’ve ever done. in my whole life. i also rewatched hat trick this morning and i miss sexy sexy hat man. im very proud of it, and i love this song more than anything in the world, so please please give it love with reblogs and comments. please enjoy<33

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist || series masterlist

I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night

Rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife

And if it was an open-shut case,

I never would've known from that look on your face

Lost in your current like a priceless wine 

Condensation slipped down the side of the glass almost as smoothly as the moonshine in it slipped down Jefferson’s throat. His eyes struggled to stay open, blinking so blearily when he faced the dim lights of The Rabbit Hole. The crowded bar drowned out his sorrows, loud clamor and exhaustion filling every one of his senses as he ordered another round of drinks, all for himself. 

Any of the locals of Storybrooke would’ve said that his scruffy appearance was his norm, bloodshot eyes and a light stubble peppering his sharp jawline and chin, rosy pink lips in a constant smirk while he bubbled out strings of nonsense. To them, he was just the creepy, drunken man who sat in the second seat on the left side of the bar, drinking himself silly like he wanted to die.

Honestly, that last part couldn’t be closer to hitting home.  

Jefferson couldn’t blame the townspeople for his poor reputation. But he also couldn’t say that any of them wouldn’t be in the same position if they had gone through nearly half the loss he did. 

He was tired. He was tired of clinging onto alcohol as a lifeline, of late nights at the bar and walking home at night, cursing the sky for something that couldn’t be changed. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d even let the blessing of sleep overtake his system. His hands were worn and scarred from three years of non-stop sewing, grasping onto the old habit to create some sense of familiarity in his bones. Every flaw on his body served as a reminder far too painful of everything he had lost.

His late mother remained on his cut fingers, and each time he pricked his thumb with a needle he could hear her incessant screaming to continue sewing garments to sell at the market the next day. It was during these moments that if he closed his eyes, the memory of a greyed out, stressed woman counting each dime and penny he laid out on the kitchen table played like a movie.

The weakness in his knees had Priscilla’s name written on it. From the moment he first caught her trying to steal the king of Camelot’s treasure, to giving birth to their dear Grace, to the moment he held her dying body in his shaking arms, his wife had been the one to take his breath away and feeling like a love struck idiot even years after her death.

But his neck, that angry, maroon line of scarred flesh that surrounded his throat, was the most painful of all. It was the result of a strike of vanity within him, when that feral need of going out to get more than he needed prevailed over his own satisfaction. The consequence of what good being greedy got him at the cost of the last good thing left in his life. 

Grace was waiting for him. Grace was the one who sat patiently at a cedar table, chopping up vegetables at the neighbor’s house while his head was being chopped off. His darling daughter, who wanted nothing more than his time and his love, the girl who he had dedicated his life to making nothing but joyous, and yet in the end it was him who took that joy away. It was the moment Regina stepped through that magic portal; he finally knew what he had lost. He’d finally lost everyone he’d ever loved, just as he always feared.

She no longer held any memory of him, and he was alone. Moments that Jefferson clutched onto so desperately in his mind were erased in hers, replaced with a life she never knew before. He watched her every morning when she got on the bus, sporting a smile brighter than he’d ever seen when they’d lived out in the woods, and he was forced to live, knowing that both she and him existed in Storybrooke, but in completely different circles. His dear Grace wasn’t his anymore.

And he was the only one to blame.

Tears glossed over his eyes with the effects of the alcohol he quickly downed, and he could only remind himself to not dwell on his family. The memories only made living that much more painful. Darkish, orange hues of light cast long shadows across his face, failing to hide the messy look that people around town snickered at, and picked at the lint of the maroon silk vest he wore, stumbling over his next order of absinthe. He was planning on making his way through the bar’s entire top shelf for the night. The bell jingled off the door of the bar jingled as someone left or came in while he spoke, but Jefferson was both too drunk and too miserable to move around and see who it was until he noticed that the room had gone silent, only the audible sound of heels clacking in hardwood floors echoing around the bar.

“I’ll take an absinthe as well, the Tenneyson, please.” 

Jefferson looked to his left, and for the first time in a long time, he was rendered speechless. A young woman sat drenched head to toe from the pouring rain outside, dressed in a delicate, evergreen gown that reached her knees. Despite the drearily horrid storm outside, she seemed quite content in her shivering state, a pretty grin painted on her face. Goosebumps covered her body from head to toe, and if Jefferson had been sober, maybe he would’ve felt kind enough to lend her his coat that hung on the rack by the front door.

Nonetheless, even through his drunkenness he could see the soft, innocent aura that seemed to glow around her. He hadn’t seen such a being as beautiful as her in a long time, and yet an immeasurable amount of guilt seemed to press down on his chest as soon as he admitted that to himself. Priscilla would have wanted him to move on, but there was really no time to do so after she died, having to take care of an infant and provide for her as well.

Jefferson wasn’t aware he was pretty much openly gaping at the poor girl until she faced him with a quizzical expression. Her eyes flitted around the bar, feeling squeamish under his intense stare. “Hello there, can I help you?”

Two drinks were placed down at the counter, but neither of them turned to get them, too entranced in each other's eyes to care. That’s when Y/N noticed that, oh, oh yes, this man was quite good looking compared to her first impression of him. Even through his dilated pupils and reddened face from drinking were normally a red flag in her book, she could see from his attire that suited him far too well and his strikingly blue eyes that he was handsome. 

However handsome the man was though, he still hadn’t answered her question, and he still seemed to be in a haze of some sort. “Pardon me, sir, but you’ve been staring at me for quite a while. Are you feeling alright?”

His glazed eyes blinked once, twice, and he was back to his senses. “I’m sorry,” he slurred slowly, “I just haven’t seen a pretty girl in a really, really long time.”

Y/N tried to fight the heat that crawled up her face when he called her pretty, instead trying to find something to continue their awkward introduction. The man clearly was lonely, and she’d heard the hushed whispers when she sat next to him. Hushed tones that only further intrigued her to learn everything about the mystery of him.

“Thanks,” she mumbled quietly. “I’m Y/N.”

That seemed to catch his attention, scooting his stool closer to hers with a lazy smile. She could smell the alcohol he reeked of and in that moment she wondered if it would be a good idea to smash the other glass on the bar to the ground, in fear that she’d have to drag him to the nearest hospital due to alcohol poisoning. “Jefferson, darlin’.” 

She nodded with a polite smile as he offered his hand to her, shaking it daintily and for some odd reason, relishing in the way his calloused, rough palm felt against hers. By his looks he was well off, though she didn’t mean to read a book by its cover, with leather pants and boots (something that shouldn’t have looked so damn good together, but he managed to pull it off) and a silk maroon vest overlaying a black, long-sleeved blouse.

Yet his hands showed a lifetime of hard work and pain. They were something that she marveled at for a while, small scars littering his knuckles, each red marking only adding to his appeal. His fingers were long and slender, his larger hand wrapping around her small one in a way that made her feel protected. Everything about him, from his scarred skin to his mysterious aura. She wanted to know everything about him.

But as soon as her questions began to flutter to life, he released her from his firm grip, facing back towards the bar with that glass of straight up absinthe. Y/N tried not to cringe when Jefferson nearly fell off the stool as he downed the drink with a very forceful tilt back of his head. He seemed to be completely unbothered by his own clumsiness, instead smiling to himself before questioning her again.

“I haven’t seen you around this part of town, what brings you to The Rabbit’s Hole?” 

He ordered another drink as she took a sip of her first one, swallowing the clear liquid with a harsh gulp before answering. “I usually come during the day.” 

That got a raised brow just for the insinuation, which she found mildly infuriating, but the smirk he wore couldn’t be any less sexy.

“It’s too crowded at nights,” she gestured around the bar, which was teeming with buoyant voices once again, “and I don’t drink myself stupid either. Well, not before eleven at least.” 

The chuckle she heard was so low that Y/N almost didn’t hear it, but when she looked at Jefferson, he was smiling so wide it was on the verge of psychotic. Her lips parted in what was either confusion or pure want when one of his hands came out to touch her face, a thumb and forefinger delicately holding her chin. “You’re funny, pretty girl.”

Under the circumstances that the man was drunk and barely knew what he was saying, Y/N tried to hide her nervousness with a soft chuckle, forcing herself to remove his hand from her face. 

“Time always went by much faster in Wonderland,” he giggled slowly. The sudden change of topic didn’t surprise Y/N, with him being drunk and everything, but the words that he said next were more than worrying. “I miss my dear Grace, my baby. So perfect, she was the sweetest little girl. Have you ever had something too good to lose?”

Y/N froze in surprise, a chill running over her body even though a fire burned on the other side of the room. “I had something once, my beautiful Grace. She was my family, she was my love and my home,” Jefferson hiccuped between his words, and the image of his sad, drunken self was something Y/N knew would be ingrained in her conscience forever. “But now I’ve lost my home, and it’s all my fault.”

He turned away from her with a pout on his rosy lips, his eyes much mistier than they were before. Y/N had no clue who his Grace was, but it was clear from his words that she was quite dear to him. When she walked into the bar she hadn’t planned on feeling like complete shit, but after Jefferson’s uplifting spiel, her mood had been noticeably dampened. Yet, through all the grief that seemed to cloud around the handsome stranger, him and his story intrigued her, and she could feel her three-year addiction to find connection surfacing to her lips. Before she could even stop herself, she blurted, “I lost my home too...”

Her sentence trailed off at the end, her attempt at starting a conversation ending as soon as she saw that Jefferson had fallen asleep, his head already slumped down so his chin was tucked into his chest, eyes blissfully closed and small snores emerging from his throat. A bill was slapped onto the bar, knocking Y/N right out of her melancholy whims, and she scanned over it with a slight worry of how much he had actually drunk that night. 

While the bartender was busy trying to wake the sleeping man up with gentle shoves that did absolutely nothing, Y/N pulled out her wallet from her crocheted shoulder bag, prepared to pay for his drinks and her single shot of absinthe. The twenty dollars that she slid over the counter seemed much more interesting to the man across the bar than waking up Jefferson, and with a quiet sigh she pulled herself from the bar.

She had never before brought home a man unless she was planning on sleeping with them, but that was before she was trapped in Storybrooke so Jefferson could be her first. At that point in the night, she felt as though she knew far too much about him to just let him stumble home in his inebriated state.

“Alright, Jefferson, let’s get a move on.” She wrapped her left arm around his waist, bringing his right hand to rest on her shoulder. His hard body slumped against hers as she tried not to acknowledge the hard planes of muscle pressing through the fabric of his vest and against her side, as well as the sleepy groans that were mumbled into the side of her head. Y/N sent the bartender a small smile in thanks as he smirked at her, patrons of the bar staring at her clumsily grabbing his coat off of the hanger with amused expressions 

As soon as the cool air and harsh rain of the night hit their skin, Jefferson seemed to wake up a bit more, his reddened eyes blinking slowly to adjust to the darker setting. Cars slowly rolled by, not too many for ten o’clock at night, and maybe if he weren’t so drunk and she had gotten more than one shot in, it would have been an enjoyable night. 

However, that thought was immediately ruined when Jefferson pushed her arm from around him, doubling over and puking whatever else he’d consumed besides deadly amounts of alcohol onto the sidewalk.

Y/N sighed gently, rubbing his back soothingly with a slight grimace. “It’s okay, just let it all out. There we go.” She genuinely had no clue why she felt so inclined to help the man, but maybe it was because she possibly found the chance to find someone just as lonely as she was or she was just so desperate to find a person she could care for, in exchange for the slightest bit of affection. They certainly had some things in common, hitting up bars at ungodly times, loving to get piss drunk (though she handled it much better than he was in the moment), and the empty vat of loneliness that could only be filled with copious amounts of alcohol. The words that tumbled out of his mouth so freely in the bar were definitely not coherent, but when he mentioned being separated from his home, she felt a tug at her heart. 

“I’ve lost my home, and it’s all my fault.”

She felt guilt and deep resentment towards Jefferson when he’d first said those words. It wasn’t his fault that she was stuck in an endless time loop, isolated from everything and everyone she loved. But that single strand of slurred syllables, those bare words struck Y/N like a slap to the face, to hear the words she had once repeated to herself every time she saw a reflection of herself when she’d first gotten stuck in the much too idyllic town. 

So she didn’t feel disgust when Jefferson coughed up a storm as she tugged him along back to her house, or when he silently stalled himself in the rain, prodding his foot at puddles along the way and marvelling at how the surface ripples. With gentle coaxing and sweet sugar-coated words, she led him down a muddy path as he pointed out different species of mushrooms he found along the way. Her house, or more of a cottage really, was out in the middle of the forest, out of the way of the rest of town. While it fit in quite well with the whole aesthetic of Storybrooke, the lonesome house was shrouded in a shivering feel of desolation, surrounded by nothing but wildlife, nearly two miles away from the main road, which really wasn’t that far, but seemed so while she dragged a large man behind her in the pouring shower. 

Y/N had never found a reason to move into a house or apartment closer to the shops of the village in the three years she was trapped inside of it. Her house in the middle of the forest reminded her of the one her parents had back in her hometown, where she had been trying to return to what seemed like so long ago. The stone walls had been her family for some time already, the red cardinals and yellow lilies becoming the only things she confided in, and it still amazed her that everyday she mustered the courage to leave her little bubble of tranquility. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t tried to escape before, but every road, every clearing she believed would lead her out of Maine was an illusion, an invisible field of dark magic keeping her trapped inside of Storybrooke like a mouse. 

Jefferson was nearly passed out by the time they reached the wooden door, brown curls of hair plastered to his forehead as he leaned against the entryway. Yet, even in his sleepiness, his right hand still cradled her own tightly, not that it bothered her, really. She’d forgotten how pleasant the feeling of simply holding hands was. 

“Pardon me, Jefferson, I just need to open the door real fast.” Her fingers fumbled with the single bronze key attached to her keychain, the picture of her mom and dad smiling back up at her pausing her for a second before she got it into the lock. 

As soon as the door opened, Jefferson stumbled in clumsily. Y/N tried her best not to cringe as his muddy shoes made tracks over the rugs in the entryway with his soaked clothes dripped with rain. At least he had the good grace to remove his coat from his body and place it on the hooks hung next to the door. But as soon as he did so, he made his way over to her couch, face-planting on the cushions with a loud moan. 

“This is really comfortable,” Y/N caught Jefferson’s muffled voice from the door, locking up the inside with a huff. 

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” she rushed over to her stack of pre-cut wood at the oval fireplace, checking to see if it was dry enough to light up. “You’re gonna be sleeping there tonight.”

His little squeal of excitement was kind of adorable, she couldn’t deny it, and maybe her heart felt a little lighter to share her home with someone even if it was only for one night. The fire rose to a roar of flames quickly after she threw the match in the small bundle of kindle, instantly heating the room up while both of them let out contented sighs at the warmth. When Y/N turned back around, she saw Jefferson staring at the cut-out skylight on the roof of her house. Rain splashed down on the glass so the night view wasn’t too visible, but the sight seemed to entrance him anyways with his comically widened eyes and parted lips. 

It was only when she tried to tug the skirt of her dress down that she realized how cold and wet she actually was. “Jefferson, I’ll be back in two minutes, can you stay still for me?” He quietly mumbled some sort of agreement, and she padded upstairs with the green fabric of her dress sticking to her skin.

It wasn’t as if she wanted to look good for Jefferson, after all he was drunk and could barely seem to keep himself together, but when he woke up the next day, she needed to look somewhat presentable. She grabbed a pair of cotton pajama pants and a large tee-shirt to pull over her head, warming her freezing feet with a pair of fuzzy socks before making her way back downstairs in record time to meet the sight of a sleeping man on her couch.

Jefferson’s eyes were blissfully shut, his eyelashes fluttering against his skin with every breath he took. His hair still had not dried and he shivered in the slightest. Y/N grabbed one of the knitted blankets from the side, a hobby she took up during her time in Storybrooke, and tucked it around his body, watching as his chest rose and fell softly. Hopefully he had found some sort of absolved peace in his slumber, some healing to the ache he was feeling at his loss.

Y/N tucked herself into the chair softly, curling her feet beneath herself and pulling a blanket up to her chin. Her eyes fluttered shut in the dimly lit room, watching over the mysterious man on her couch for just a second, before drifting off to a peaceful sleep and hoping for an equally pleasant morning. 

Her eyes opened after what seemed like seconds, only to be disappointed by the thin streams of soft sunlight coming in through the circular windows. A small whine escaped the back of her scratchy throat as she unfurled herself from the tight ball she’d curled into while sleeping in the rattan arm chair. Despite the sunniness of it all it was still quite a cold morning, and the chill that formed goosebumps to rise across her skin forced her to bring the blanket on her way to her quaint kitchen. 

Her pots of hanging vines and ivy roped across the counters and cabinets, the soft pale orange giving a little shining tint to all of the pans and plates stacked in her glass shelves. In three years she’d built quite the life for her house- easy to do so in a time left frozen, where everyday had just droned endlessly with nothing to do and nowhere to go. It wasn’t very difficult to make a living for herself after the first year, she’d found her happiness in working at Granny’s Diner on the weekends and she’d worked up relationship enough with Granny herself that the kind, older woman let her sell some of her own recipes from her hometown in the place. Ever since then she’d become nearly infamous amongst the breakfast-goers at the diner for her Mayer lemon pancakes, topped with homemade raspberry jam that added just a kick of tartness. 

It was a much better life than what she had ever hoped for. Right out of college she had no plan for her life, with a degree in English that she didn’t know how to put to use. She was lost then. And going home to her family, to live in her old room in her middle class house with her mother and father, was less than she had planned for herself than when she was eighteen.

Still, she was lost in Storybrooke as well. Everything seemed so… off. It was almost too perfect. Almost no crime, it was much too cottage-y to be real, and despite her common everyday life, she knew it wasn’t where she belonged. But there was nowhere else to go. 

With a gentle sigh she rolled her shoulders back, feeling the knots and bones straighten themselves out and stretch. It was nearly nine-twenty in the morning and she felt that with the ever mysterious Jefferson in her living room, she was bound to have an interesting morning. She began her coffee machine, laying a porcelain painted mug under the stream and turning it on. Both she needed it and she knew the man on the couch would too, especially after the amount of drinking he’d done the night before. 

A basket of lemons that she’d picked on the Wednesday before sat on her counter, and she decided to make her lemon pancakes. It was originally her grandmother’s recipe, adding the confectioner’s sugar and syrup into the pancakes to give it an extra woodsy and sweet combination. If Jefferson was allergic to any of those ingredients, well, then that wasn’t her fault. 

She began to chop and peel her lemons, careful to remain graceful and quiet in her movements to not wake her sleeping guest. Yet before she could even finish juicing three of them, she clumsily hit her hand a little too aggressively against the metal bowl that sat right next to her small cookplace. Along with measuring cups and a spatula, the bowl went tumbling to the ground, creating a large amount of clattering and clanging as they hit her tile floor. 

“Shoot, damn it,” she cursed quietly, kneeling down to pick up her mess. 

“What the fu-” 

Back in the living room, Jefferson shot up like a light, his arms steadily holding himself up as he looked around frantically. His heart beat fast and loud, and checking his surroundings, he didn’t know whose fireplace that was, or the chair in the corner, or whose couch he was sleeping on though it was quite comfortable. He didn’t remember this place. He didn’t think he’d ever been here, but who knows. Maybe Regina was finally fucking with his mind so he didn’t have to remember everything.

But he did remember it, so clearly that wasn’t a plausible theory. 

It must’ve been around nine in the morning. At least that was what the light indicated. There was only one hour in the morning where he didn’t feel like dying and it was because the sky looked too pretty to feel that way. His mind was foggy. It hurt.

Oh, it was pounding. Hangover.  

He had gone to the bar and he now remembered the pretty girl Y/N. Pretty name for a girl as pretty as her. He pictured her pretty green dress, and the pretty goosebumps that had scattered across her skin from the cold, and how he had un-prettily proceeded to throw up on her shoes.

He grimaced at the memory. A great first impression.

Before another negative memory could be pulled to the front of his mind, he heard soft padding of feet coming nearer to him. He had a faint idea as to who it was, but at the same time he didn’t want to frighten her or for her to kick him out. He wanted to know how badly he had screwed up the night before. As quickly as he could he fell straight back to his sleeping position, taking the last few milliseconds before she could catch him in her eyesight to tuck the blanket back around his body like a swaddle. 

His breathing leveled out as best it could and she heard her quiet humming over him as she looked down on him.

“Good morning, Jefferson,” He pretended to blink away sleep and finally made sober eye contact with the woman who had so kindly taken him in the night before. Y/N softly smiled from above him. Like an angel descending from the sky, the light formed a ring of brightness around her, and even better, she smelled like something sweet and citrusy and soft, like newly picked lemons from a blossoming tree. But then she smirked gently, her lips spreading wider when she saw straight through his horrid acting. “I know you were awake, there’s no way you slept through that loud mess I made.”

He grinned sheepishly, a boyish thing that sent something aflutter in her chest. “What- what were you making?”

“Lemon pancakes. You want?” She asked, her fingers fumbled with each other, awaiting his response like she was nearly nervous. 

He then found it in himself to let out a genuine smile, the first one he’d had sober in weeks. She mirrored him instinctively, a small giggle leaving her lips at his happier expression. And that was when Jefferson first found his heart beating for a woman for the first time in a long time. The once dead butterflies laying at the pit of his stomach began to flap their wings again, so he laid a signature smirk on his face, settling into a much more relaxed position against the couch to answer her.

“Whatever you’ll give me, darlin’.”

The more that you say

The less I know

Wherever you stray

I follow

I'm begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans

That's my man

“And that’s why you shouldn’t trust the Granny Smith apples at Katrina’s stand?” Jefferson smirked, biting into a fresh Granny Smith apple not from Katrina.

“That is not what I said,” Y/N admonished with a grin of her own. “I simply stated that one time I went and there was a worm in the apple I bought! Just being anecdotal today, s’all.”

“I don’t know, darlin’, if I didn’t know any better I’d say that you’re still salty about that experience.” He grinned at how she huffed. “Tell that to the town and that woman is going out of business.”

It had been a few months since he’d woken up in that wispy, sunlight living room of hers. It had been a long few months. 

Not because of the frozen time loop they were stuck in, and not because he didn’t enjoy his time with her. It was because he enjoyed it far too much. He’d forgotten what it felt like to fall in love. The last person he’d fallen in love with was his Grace, his baby, and she was gone. A deep guilt settled in his gut when he thought about how hard he’d fallen for Y/N and at what cost he’d met her for. To him it seemed like some awful trade, that his daughter got taken away but then a gorgeous, kind, sweet woman had walked into his life and taken his heart. 

He had a feeling he couldn’t move on. Occasionally he wondered if anyone else felt that way, knowing that they were taken from their own families as well, but he brushed it off. The last time he’d tried to ask a patron of the bar he’d nearly gotten a black eye for the mere insinuation. 

But Y/N was something else. She understood him because she was trapped. She’d never been in Storybrooke before the storm, she’d only meant to drive through before her world was turned upside down. And after three long years, she’d come to some satisfaction in the life she’d made. So why couldn’t he?

“You’re overthinking something,” she noted, munching on her cinnamon roll. Steam rolled off it in the cool spring air, the scent intoxicatingly sweet as her voice. “What is it?”

“I just don’t understand how you do it,” Jefferson sighed, snatching the pastry out of her fingers. She squawked at his rude intrusion, but still focused on him with her whole being. She knew what he had lost. He’d explained it over lemon pancakes at her house that very first morning, how his wife had died and how his daughter wasn’t his anymore. Y/N had clung on to his every word like a lifeline and comforted him with her baking and her sweet-slick words, easily falling into a simple friendship that had recently developed into something more. “We both lost so much, you’re stuck here with no previous knowledge of what magic truly underlies this town we live in, yet you're the most sane person I know. You’re not under any spell like the rest of them, you’re like me. But you-”

“But I nothing, my darling Hatter,” the woman shushed him, patting his arm and stealing her breakfast back. “It’s a mere matter of circumstance, Jefferson. I got stuck here due to my own stupidity, who was I to be driving in a storm? My family is going on without me and, yeah, it hurts knowing that I may never see them again.”

Her eyes began to ache as she truly thought about her mom and dad and little sister, back home for God knows how long, wondering what happened to her arrival back at their house. “I think I’ve learned to move on with my life. You’ve helped immensely in that.” She shot him a quick grin, wiping off the remaining frosting from her fingers before intertwining them with his.

Jefferson nearly jumped at the contact, the way her soft fingers soothed his scarred ones so delicately. Y/N was an affectionate one, always laying her head against his back when they stood in line for the grocery mart together or leaning on him when they would knit together in the late night, but it was intimate when she held his hand.

Though they’d never dared cross the line, when she held his hand and looked at him with her large, adoring eyes, he could imagine a world where she loved him. One where he wasn’t a piece of shit or hurting and one where she had never seen him drink himself into oblivion, acting like a sad fool. But that could never happen here. Not now. He couldn’t allow it with his kind of baggage. 

He gulped before adjusting the hat on his head and subtly pulling her closer to him. Her body did always run warm, and in the colder spring air he was basically using her as a furnace. At least that was his excuse for holding her close. “Did I really help you, darling?”

She squeezed his hand twice, glancing up to him with the most dead serious expression he'd ever seen her wear. “More than anything else, honey, you eased the ache. You make my life better. You make me better.”

He wanted to tell her the same. That because of her he felt hope. That with nothing but one of her small grins he was sent spiraling into a chasm of her love and care, something he hadn’t felt in so long. It felt good to be around her. She was intoxicating and she didn’t even know it. She made him want to be better. For himself and for her. With her help, he’d stopped drinking so much. He knew his Grace would be thankful for that. And he thought sometimes, in the dead of night and only for small moments, he allowed himself to think that if he ever got his daughter back, that she would adore Y/N more than anything else in the world. In one where she loved him too. And he could have a family again.  

But he had scars. Too many littering his hands and his neck and his memory and mind. Just enough to scar her himself.

So he drew the line again. 

“Just glad to help,” he offered with a pained smile. 

Life was a willow and it bent right to your wind

Head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in

As if you were a mythical thing

Like you were a trophy or a champion ring

And there was one prize I'd cheat to win

Y/N’s toes were warming by the fire as she lay outstretched on the newly rearranged couch. Jefferson had come over the weekend before to help her redecorate for the oncoming winter, and she had a hard time believing that it had been nearly a year since she had first sat next to him at the Rabbit’s hole. The week next would make it their official anniversary. November 14. 

She could hardly wait. She had everything planned out, with a picnic in the morning first by the lake, then boating around it in a small gondola-like thing she’d found abandoned in the woods a bit off from her house. November would make for the perfect season, with the chilly air and warm jumpers she could wear now that it was no longer swelteringly sunny. 

The time loop now longer seemed like a curse to her. No, it seemed like a blessing. Because in an outstretched time, she’d been allowed to fall in love with Jefferson. Her Hatter. There was truly no one like him. 

Two knocks sounded at the door and she looked up. She wasn’t expecting anyone, but Jefferson also did enjoy showing up at her house unexpectedly with little gifts of his own. She especially enjoyed it when he brought some mushroom soup with the savory vegetables he found around his mansion. 

“‘M coming!” She shouted towards the door. Her knit sweater had gotten all tangled with the strings of her apron and she grunted as struggled to separate the fabrics before she went to get up. With nimble fingers she tangled out the knots in her hair, realizing that she’d been sitting and reading the whole afternoon and into the night without once checking her appearance.

Y/N slid in her socks over the hardwood floors, grinning at the mere thought of seeing his devilishly handsome face again. But when she opened the door, she came face to face with her Hatter, eyes red and blurry and spit-slicked lips, an expression similar to the first time she’d met him in the bar. A breeze came in behind him and she saw a rainfall brewing too, the trees bending this way and that in the harsh winds. She urgently ushered him inside, grabbing his cold hands with her warm ones and dragging him in the heated house. His tartan cloak was dripping in water, but he seemed to be unfazed by it. 

“Are you okay, darling?” His eyes remained blank and unmoving, so she nodded before parting his bicep. “I’ll make you a cup of tea, you must be freezing. Just make yourself comfy.”

She quickly ran to the kitchen, grabbing a mug and filling it with hot water, chai, and just a drizzle of honey. By the time she got back he was still standing, shivering at the doorway. “Come sit down, Jefferson.”

He nodded before removing his coat, hanging it up on his designated hook that she’d carved for him. He slid his boots off right next to the door and with heavy footfalls, lumbered over to where she sat cross-legged on the right side of the cream colored cushions. With a small whisper of gratitude he took the mug from her, slumping down on the couch, his leg shaking violently as he bit his fingernails. His silver rings shone in the dim lighting of her living room, catching light on the same engravings he’d carved into them almost a decade before.

“She came up to me today,” he sniffed. “My Grace.”

Oh no. It had been a while since he’d seen her. Each time he did he had somewhat of a setback, and each time he did he thought himself to be a bit more mad. But she never did. She knew what it was like to lose the ones closest to her. 

“Paige.” He snorted, a deprecating sound, and took a small sip of the chai tea. “That’s what she’s renamed now anyways, right?”

A flurry of worries tumbled around Y/N’s empty stomach. She hurt for Jefferson, felt his pain not nearly as deeply as him, but enough to make a frown pull at her lips. And though they’d been friends for so long, she still was sensitive when it came to the topic of his family though he’d been brave enough to share the story before. With timid hesitation, she gently asked, “What did she say to you?”

“She asked me why I looked so sad when I was in line at the grocery,” he chuckled sadly. “My sweet Grace. Always worrying about other people and wanting to make them happy.” 

“You raised her good,” Y/N shrugged, rubbing one hand on his knee. “She may not remember you, but one day she will. This curse has to be lifted one day, it’s how all fairytales work out. They end happily ever after.”

“It’s been almost four years, Y/N, this storybook seems to have closed,” he shook his head, “so it confuses me as to why you're still here, Y/N.” 

She was taken aback by the harshness of his words. “What do you mean, darling?” One of her arms tried to wrap around his neck, but he pulled away from her touch, which hurt him almost as much as it did her. 

“Aren’t you sick of me? Sick of this?” He gestured at his reddened, tired eyes and scrambled appearance. “Aren't I subjecting you to a friendship of humiliation?” 

“No,” she answered coolly. “And it hurts me that you think about yourself in that way, ‘cause it’s certainly not how I see you.” 

“And how do you see me, Y/N?” He laughed sadly, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “Do you pity me too? Do you think I’m insane? Are you embarrassed when you go out in town with me? Does it tarnish your reputation, being friends with the crazy man at the edge of Storybrooke?”

“How could you ever think of yourself like that?” Y/N strongly accused. “You-you’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve known in my life,” she offered quietly. His head lifted up to see her saddened eyes, readjusting herself to her knees and pulling herself closer to him. This time he didn’t back away from her. “You’re strong and you protect me and you’re sweeter than strawberry jam, though you deny it constantly. I know that when you knit me sweaters I enjoy the feel of the fabric against my skin because it reminds me of you. You’ve lost your love before and that doesn’t make you insane. Feeling that,” she placed one of his hands over his chest, right above his pounding heart, “doesn’t make you crazy.”

“My darling, I would follow you to the deepest spots of your mind,” she gave him a small grin, pushing sweaty curls of hair back from his face, “to the tallest, snowiest mountain that you will yourself to climb because I love you, Jefferson.” 

He nearly choked on his own breath. She did? Of all the kindest, most pure souls, he never meant to taint hers. If she loved him it meant that he had sucked her into his greed and affection for her, something he had never meant for. “You don’t love me, Y/N,” he argued faintly, but with each stroke of her nimble fingers, he was already losing himself in her love. “You can’t love me, it’s not good for you.”

“You’re good for me, honey,” Y/N straddled him, her skirt rising to stretch around her knees as she did so. “Jefferson, I’ll take your bad days,” her fingers rubbed circles into his cheekbones, “and your happy ones. Because that’s what you do when you love someone. I’ll take your moments like these and I know that when my days come, you’ll take care of me the same. Because I think that you love me too, darling.”

His heart beat wildly as he stared at her with wide, torn eyes. For the first time in years, he was wide awake. Every part of him buzzed with anticipation, waiting to see if he’d finally let himself love her with no limits. Because he trusted herself with every fiber of his being, there wasn’t a cell of him that didn’t believe her wisdom when it came down to the subject of love. She was, after all, the queen of his heart. And he did love her. More than she’d ever be able to account for.

So he let himself fall, jumping across the rushing river he was so scared to cross before, with all the hope that she’d catch him on the other side.

“I promise,” his hands shook as he held her, as if she would vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. As if the whole moment had been a harsh, cruel figment of his imagination. “I will spend every moment making you happy, giving you everything you need. I’m yours for the rest of our lives, okay?”

“You don’t need to promise me anything,” she shook her head, love and adoration fueling the tears that rose to her eyes. Her heart felt full, stuffed to the brim with the warmth his care brought her. “I just need you.”

The more that you say, the less I know

Wherever you stray I follow

Begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans

That's my man

You know that my train could take you home

Anywhere else is hollow

Begging for you to take my hand

Wreck my plans

Y/N’s hands shook as she cupped Jefferson’s face, thumbs brushing tears off of his cheek. His breath came out shuddering, but even with his sniffly nose and small frown, she still thought he was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. 

Her lips trailed over every part of his face, pressing gentle kisses to his eyelids and temples before she came to his lips, her eyes begging for permission as his warm breath fanned over her face. “Will you let me take care of you?”

His face broke out into a small grin as he nodded, and he brought her lips down to his, relishing in the feel of her lips soothing his. Salty tears were caught between their skin and he whimpered into her mouth when her tongue slipped past his lips. He didn’t know if she could hear it- his heart pounding erratically in his chest or the way his head screamed I love you- but he tried his best to show it as he moved his lips against hers languidly. 

“Please,” he whimpered against her lips. That was all Y/N needed to hear, placing a knee on either side of his lap and slowly rolling down into his hips once, twice, and- oh, she could feel him pressing up into her core through the pants he wore. A smirk played over her lips as she did it again, and this time he slipped his hand under her skirt to the underwear she wore, fingers dragging precariously close to where her cunt was soaking her cotton panties.

Slowly he lowered the material down her legs, and both of them laughed when he couldn't get it out from under her knees. “I’ll get it, baby,” she chuckled softly.

His heart clenched with joy at the new pet name he had been gifted, and watched in adoration as Y/N stripped herself bare to him. Her body, with all its curves and marks and dips, made his heart beat faster, if even possible at that point, watching as her chest rose and fell in front of him.  

“You’re gorgeous, bunny.” As she settled back onto her lap, she had to stop herself from moaning aloud at the feeling of his black jeans rubbing against her clit.

Her fingers trailed over his chest and up to the scarf he always wore, feeling a little seed of excitement begin to sprout before-

Wait.

Hitched breath. Opal eyes wide with what looked like fear as he stared at the opposing digits that threatened to expose him. An air of tension and a sudden rush of cool against her body made the hairs on her neck stand up, and immediately she stopped her movements 

“My love?” Y/N questioned gently. “Can I take your scarf off?”

Oh, he could never say no to her. Jefferson sent a small smile her way, picking up one of her hands and laying a gentle kiss on each of her fingers. It wasn’t much and not a word left his mouth, but his message was clear enough. I trust you. That made her smile giddily, and she pressed their lips together messily once again as she undid the patterned silk, each tug one step closer to revealing skin that he had been so scared to show before.

She’d always been curious as to what his scar looked like after learning of his time in Wonderland, and when she saw the thin line of raised flesh around the circumference of his neck, tears rose to her eyes. She could nearly damn hear the way the beat of Jefferson’s heart sped up as she ghosted her lips over the scar, kissing up the column of his throat until- God, she knew she had hit the spot when he whimpered and unconsciously bucked his clothed hips into her bare cunt. 

He could feel her wetness through his jeans, could smell how much she needed him, and he was not going to be the one to deny her that because he needed her just as bad. 

“You wanna take my clothes off, bunny?” Jefferson asked quietly. 

The process of undressing him was a tedious one to say the very least, with his four layers of shirts (“Yes, baby, I need all of them, it ties the outfit together,” is what he had once argued) and the skin tight jeans, which Y/N wasn’t upset about in the slightest. 

Their love wasn’t serious. Well, for the love they held for each other, yes, that was serious, but the love itself was not. Though they’d never been together in such intimacy before, Y/N and Jefferson felt completely at ease in each other’s embrace. She giggled at the way he huffed when she tried to shimmy his pants off his legs, and revelled in the way his breathing seemed to halt with every button she undid over his chest. Their love was silly, it was full of Jefferson’s groaning complaints about how long it took to take off his clothes and Y/N shutting him up with kisses to his collarbone. 

She finally managed to rid him of all his clothes, nearly scrambling back onto his lap with fervent need. Jefferson chuckled at her readiness but he really couldn’t make fun of her either with his dick, hot and heavy and poking at the inside of her thigh. Precome smeared onto her soft skin and both of them moaned at the little contact, aching for more than just a light touch.

However, the sounds he made as she hovered her entrance over his dick were absolutely sinful, a choked groan amongst the tears he was shedding, because she felt so warm and God, she was just dripping all for him. Her wetness squelched against his cock when she finally lowered herself onto him, and Jefferson decided then and there that there was no better feeling than having her wrapped around his cock. 

“Jesus,” he moaned lowly. Beads of sweat already started to form along his forehead and the euphoria that washed over him brought more tears to his eyes. His brain felt like cranberry pudding, all mushy and gooey and filled with some sort of addictive feeling because he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of it. 

“You feel so good inside me, baby,” Y/N purred, “can I have you like this forever?”

Jesus fucking Christ.

That broke something feral and loose inside of him. 

Jefferson’s hips snapped upwards sharply, the head of his cock hitting her G-spot on the first try and knocking the wind out of her lungs. Her legs trembled and she fell forwards onto his chest for support, arms shakily holding herself up on the back of the couch. “Oh, shit, you’re so deep.”

“Am I.. am I hurting you, darlin’?” He asked warily. His body sat rigid on the couch, afraid of even scarring her body in the slightest.

She shook her head, pulling herself closer to his chest with her arms wrapped around his neck. Her hips slowly rolled over his, making him whimper and tremble under her soft ministrations. “You could never hurt me, honey,” she pressed her lips to his, breathing his woodsy smell in as deeply as she could, whispering her words of adoration into his mouth. “You’re my love, my heart, my man. I trust you with every bone in my body. Do you?”

“You’re the only person I do trust.”

“Then trust me when I say that I want you,” she began to steadily push herself down further on his cock, until she could feel his heavy sac resting right beneath her wet cunt, “deeper.”

Jefferson whined at her lewd words, but obliged to them too. He wasn’t one to deny his bunny of his pleasure. Especially when she looked so innocent spread out across his lap.  

“Take what you want, bunny,” he began to help her up again before slamming her back down on his girthy cock. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Y/N nodded vigorously and got to work, pressing her breasts into his face and sliding up so the very tip of his dick was in her. She held herself there for a moment, relishing in his bated breath and how he held his objection in so obediently, then twisted her hips so she swiveled back down.

Her knees moved the couch as she continuously grew more confident in her movements. And Jefferson, he was in awe of her body, how she flowed with a certain rhythm and made him feel like it was his very first time again. His chin rested against her sternum while she rode him sensually, his glossy blues staring up at her thrown back head as she lost herself in pure pleasure. It was only for a moment that she peered down at him as she bounced on his lap, watching as his mouth dropped and eyes then rolled back into his head every time she sheathed herself all the way in. He was nearly pleading with his whiny words, “Faster, Jesus, f-faster please, bunny.”

Maybe she was a bit too happy to do so, and as her hips sped up, both of them let out completely debauched moans. Y/N was delirious on pleasure, even more so when Jefferson trailed his hands to her ass, kneading the flesh gently before he left open-mouthed kisses up her stomach, her sternum, finally to her nipple and wrapping his lips around it. The whimper she let out filled him with pride, for making her feel this way, and he caressed her skin with his tongue, flicking over the pebbled bud and tugging it between his teeth. 

One hand, he didn’t know or care which one it was, separated their hips in the slightest as he found her center, the rough pads on his fingers rubbing against her clit and creating the most delicious friction. 

“Jefferson, you’re-” she choked on her words, eyesight getting blurry until all she could hear was their heavy breathing. “You feel so good, baby, you feel so good.”

His lips moved to her other breast and he murmured against her skin, words coming out in slow pants. “Are you close, bunny? Wanna come with me?”

She really wasn’t able to give an answer, but from her high-pitched whimpers and the way her walls clenched around his cock he could tell she was bordering the edge of release. Her hips rocked faster, her labored breaths hurrying as both of them chased their orgasms in desperation. “I’m not gonna be able to hold out much longer, bunny- shit, you feel so good wrapped around me. 

Y/N could barely focus on his words, only trying to control her own breathing as white dots danced along her vision. Slowly she was losing power over her own body, feeling her legs tremble against his warm skin as she brought herself closer to release. “Baby, baby, I-” she sloppily pressed her lips to his again, open-mouthed and heavy as her legs began to give out. “You wanna come, baby? Go ahead, fill me up, darlin’.”

“Mhm-” he grunted, grasping her skin. He was only seconds from combusting into flames, and when Y/N’s soft voice carried him away, he drove his hips into her a final time and came with stuttering groans. “Fuck, I’m coming, pretty girl.”

White hot cum spurted out of his twitching head into her walls, spurring on her own orgasm. Her vision became a blank space as she mindlessly whined into his mouth, vigorously trying to rub her clit even faster against his fingers. 

“That’s it, bunny, make yourself feel real good,” his voice was deep and guttural, exhausted after coming hard into her tight cunt. He continued to methodically pad over her sensitive bundle of nerves until she sighed, letting him know that she was coming down. 

The gyrating, seductive rolls of her hips over his slowed down as her eyesight and hearing kicked back in, until her rushing blood in her ears was replaced by the angelic symphony of her and Jefferson’s mingled breaths. 

“Hey,” she grinned against him, pushing herself up from his softening cock. He winced when he pulled out of her but relaxed as she brushed her palm against his sweaty forehead, allowing hers to come rest upon it. 

“Hey yourself,” he chided back playfully. Their noses nudged each other and nothing he did could fight off the smile he wore against hers. He had finally found bliss with her. “God, you’re pretty.” 

“You are too,” she agreed. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her elbows bending to allow her play with the curls of his chestnut hair. While her cunt remained dripping with his come, her intimate bubble of peace with her love didn’t allow her to care about cleaning up. “You, my darling Hatter,” she quickly kissed him, letting the taste of him linger in her mouth for one more moment before speaking again, “you make me happier than anything in the world.”

His arms wrapped around her, clutching her as tight in his grasp as he could like a lifevest keeping him afloat. As long as he had her, he was alive. He was loved. That's all he needed. With her, he learned to survive with their blossoming love.

“I love you, my darling Y/N.” 

She knew everything would be alright with him. And everything would be alright with her. Because he saved her and she saved him, and in a time where frost laid the clock stuck around them, they had all the time and love in Storybrooke to themselves. 

That's my man