#I can't stop making weird posts with these four siblings

[bowbow-the-clown]

... The Lord Of AnchorDeep Nautical Fiction ...

... A MUST READ For Anyone In The Land Of The Old Faith ...

[oreharuuu]

éta ritual (1)

Summary: You didn't know why you agreed to do some stupid ritual on the first place. You've never had believe on the supernatural. Maybe you will after this encounter.

Warnings: none

A/N: oop first post, reminder this will be a yandere series. and I'm planning on making it a bit towards horror. Oh, and it's ot8 ;)

Going back to a few days ago, you really weren't paying attention to what your friends have been talking about. You were mindlessly scrolling through Instagram when Jieun, one of your oldest friends, tapped you on the shoulder.

Your whole life you've never been this stressed out. Not even your siblings could make you almost faint at how stupid they were at believing stuff.

"Hey, (name)! Have you been hearing us this whole time?" She pouted. "So mean! I was explaining something fun here."

"Sorry," You sheepishly apologized. "What were you explaining again?"

Jieun smiled as she clapped her hands. "I found this website, super creepy! They have an interesting ritual where—"

"Yeah nope."

"(name)! I swear it's so interesting," Jieun smiled as she grabbed her phone, typing something for a while. "Oh wait, I forgot to turn on the VPN."

You sighed before looking at Hyein, only for her to shrug her shoulders. "It's kinda interesting, the ritual said you could potentially summon hot demons."

"That's what you focus on? Not the weird creepy ritual Jieun somehow find through an obscure internet site?"

"Hey! For the record, it wasn't me who founded it. It was Kim," Jieun wagged her finger before pulling up her phone. "See? Super creepy."

What you're looking at seems to be like one of those dark web stuff that you usually watch from YouTube. How it's supposedly blocked from any access unless you know the code or something. It's corny but it works, with how minimalist and not threatening the website.

Jieun then tapped on one of the links and there it was. The summoning ritual. It's the same as the website, minimalist in every way. It only has a few steps that you apparently should follow if you want to summon a demon. Or demons.

1. Make sure you're in an empty and dark room, prepare an unlit candle in the middle of your circle.

2. Hold hands with each other, make sure there's four to eight participants.

3. Close your eyes, don't open them. If you open them there will be consequences.

4. One of the participants will read the chants slowly and clearly.

5. Listen to your surroundings, there will be sounds.

6. If the ritual is successful, then the candle will be lit.

"Weird. Usually candles are lit before right? Then some freaky stuff happens before it's blown by a wind," You hummed.

"Or maybe a hot demon," Hyein smirked.

"Yeah, again, no."

You placed the phone back to Jieun's hand before closing it. "Jieun, I love you—"

"I know."

"—but you seriously better not be doing this. It's bullshit. It's make believe."

Jieun sighed. "I know, but it's been so boring lately that I've been searching for stuff to do in our free time. And when Kim offered us to do the ritual I can't just reject the offer!"

University was closed for a few weeks. You don't know for sure but whispers around the hall said it's related to someone's death. Who's death? You don't know for sure. You don't even know if it's a rumor or the truth. But then again, free from stress and annoying professors? Sounds like a good time for you.

You hummed before stopping. "What do you mean by offered?"

"It means," Hyein started. "That Jieun and I already agreed to do the ritual, and you're going with us!"

"What?!"

●

That's how you find yourself in some abandoned building that Kim found, with the printed instruction held on Hyein's hand. She hands the paper to Jieun, who excitedly grabbed it before facing the both of you.

Jieun squealed. "This is going to be so awesome!"

"Of course. If we succeed, then we'll have the experience of a life time," Kim hummed as she grabbed the candle from her bag. You glared at her from the corner of your eyes, not liking how calm and reserved she is.

You've never been close with Kim. Only Hyein and Jieun were close to her because they have the same course in university. Sure she's nice to you, but she somehow always unnerves you at times when she just stared into oblivion without blinking. Even then you could still sometimes hear her mumbling something, like she's talking to someone. She wasn't like this when you first met her, this strange behavior only started when university got closed off.

You tried to dwell your nervousness and slowly walked to the rest as they sat around in a circle. You sit between Hyein and Kim, ignoring the shiver you got when you noticed how cold her hand's were. You ignored her when she glanced at you a few times, focusing at how Jieun was practically moving with excitement.

"Ok, I have the papers in front of me. It's already dark, so now we just have to close our eyes."

You exhaled before closing your eyes. You're scared of the dark but at least you're holding hands with someone to know they're still there. Even though it's Kim but you tried to ignore it.

"Everyone has their eyes closed?" Jieun asked, and you all answered a soft 'yes'. "Alright, let's start."

You regulate your breathing and tried to listen to any of the sounds mentioned in the instructions. Well it didn't really specify what sound you're supposed to hear, but you kept listening anyway.

Jieun's still chanting, so you assumed the ritual wasn't working. You held back a yawn before changing into a slouching posture, trying to stay awake. For some reason Jieun wanted the ritual to be held at midnight so you don't want to argue with her. You just want this to be over.

The chanting abruptly ended, making you frown in confusion as to why Jieun stopped.

"...I hear something."

Your heart plummeted, gripping Hyein's hand before waiting for someone to speak up again. Hyein's grip turned lax, making you curse.

"I-I hear something too!"

Mentally cursing out your friends, you tried to think that this was all not real. Maybe they're just pranking you, right? They're the ones who founded it, maybe Kim asked them to prank you because they know you don't believe in this kinds of stuff.

"(name), how about you?" Kim suddenly asked, making you jolt in surprise. You didn't answer, not when you're trying to regulate your breathing so you would calm down. You ignored how Kim's grip turned even tighter than before, her nails seemingly more sharper than ever. You tried to take your hand away from her, struggling slightly when it's apparent she doesn't want to let go.

That's when you heard it.

(name)...(name)....

You scream in surprise, tilting your head downwards and closing your eyes even tighter. There's no fucking way the ritual actually worked, you don't even want to open your eyes. Kim's grip turned normal as if she could hear what you just said.

"It's time to open our eyes. If we see the candle lit then it means someone's with us," Kim explained before taking her hand's off you. You decided whether or not to open your eyes, mentally debating if it's the right thing to do.

You shivered when the cold air hits you suddenly, before you felt like someone or something touching your shoulder softly.

open your eyes, darling

You snapped your eyes open, glancing back to see nothing. You looked back at the unlit candle before noticing that all of your friends seemed to be waiting for it to be lit. Not even a second later, the candle was lit.

"What the fuck?!" You screamed, moving backwards. Hyein seems to be scared and hesitant as well, following you to hold your hands together. Jieun just seems excited while Kim blankly looked at the candle.

"Wow, it actually worked!" Jieun awed in wonder before moving closer to the candle. "Jieun! What the fuck? Move away from it," Hyein hissed.

"Oh, don't be a big baby. Besides, if the ritual works then—uh...what's the purpose of the ritual anyway?"

Sometimes you want to strangle Jieun so hard when times like these happens, when her stupidity knows no boundaries that it could cost you harm to you and your loved ones. But these kinds of things intrigued her, she loves the unknown territory. You're happy for her to have a hobby like this but this was really out of your boundaries.

"When the candle is lit, it means that someone is here for you. It hears all of your desires and needs. It wants to help you," Kim answered as she grabs the candle, blowing it out before grabbing her bag.

"Wha—Is that it?! What the fuck should we even do after this?" Hyein gawked. Kim glanced at her before standing up, walking slowly to the both of you.

"Wait and see. You'll notice when it's there, you just have to be patient. If they show themselves—"

"Wait, we're gonna fucking see them?!"

Kim glared at Hyein before continuing. "Yes. If they show themselves, it means that they're ready to help you."

You bit your lip, grabbing Hyein's hand tighter before looking up to Kim. "Why...why do we need to wait for them to show up?"

Kim tilted her head at you, looking up into the dark abyss before smiling down at you. You really didn't like how she smiles, it's creepy.

"Well, you're not getting the help for free. You have to earn it."

You moved your gaze to Hyein as she looks anxious, even Jieun was starting to fidget with her fingers as she listens to Kim. You yelped when Kim suddenly squatted in front of you, making Hyein move away.

Kim brush your hair behind your ears, humming slightly. "I'm jealous of you. I was the one who summoned them, well not all of them. But they wanted you. I don't know why...but I'm intrigued," She whispered. Moving her mouth next to your ears, you could've sworn to hear a growl nearby. Or maybe growls?

"Just a reminder, once they take a liking to you, they'll always be there. Always."

And with that, Kim stood up and walked away. Leaving the three of you to comprehend what the fuck just happened.

[ltbarnes]

I Still Worship the Flame

[Stark U #5]

Summary: Everyone but you are at the cinema watching dumb movie marathons. You lay home in a sea of tissues, drowning in schoolwork with a pathetic fever. But what they don’t know can’t hurt them, right?

Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader

Word count: 6.8k

Warnings: sickness? just a really bad cold really nothing graphic, Steve and Bucky being a little overbearing, schoolwork (the biggest warning), angry reader

A/N: haven’t posted any of my writing since March 🤠 forgive me please and enjoy!! I have another one-shot coming soon though so you’ll get a little more of me than usual

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

As the hundredth whine from your lips sounds out today, you are glad that no one else is home. You would be scolded for being more dramatic than Sam during that week after his concussion while simultaneously yelled at for doing too much when you should be resting.

The words have since long started to blur together and the pen is clutched tightly in your hand without even touching the paper for half an hour. You can't remember comprehending the change from afternoon sun to complete darkness outside of your window, but you do know that you have piled on three layers of clothes only to tear them off of your overheated body in the last hour.

Fucking fevers. It's incredible how you forget how absolutely horrible they are between each time, but battling this one seems especially miserable when you have a test in four days. Your roommates had begged you to come with them to this god awful long Lord of The Rings marathon at the local cinema, but you were stressed out about the test enough without losing a full day of studying.

You have gotten some things done. It's just that your room is drowning in tissues, and the pills you've taken haven't done shit and your back hurts from sitting for so long. What you really want to do is take your comforter out to the couch and open all the windows with the AC on full blast. No—what you actually want is to be rid of this fucking cold and sit lodged between Steve and Bucky at the cinema, warm hands on your thighs with an obscene amount of chocolate in your lap. You know that Bucky would whisper random facts about the movies in your ear during the entirety of it, and that Steve would give him angry glares for speaking in the theater.

God, if it weren't for your body's excessive temperature, you would kill for them to hold you. It would suck in reality, because both of them run hot and that is the last thing you need right now. But you miss them. You miss them all the time lately and it frustrates you, because six months ago things weren't like this. Steve and Bucky were two of your annoying, though very sweet, roommates who bickered like siblings constantly at ungodly hours in the morning and left dirty dishes out in the living room (thank fucking god Bucky has stopped doing that).

Now, you dream weird dreams about them at night and shiver everytime they touch you. Calling you by name has suddenly turned into 'sweetheart' and 'bug' (still can't quite figure that one out), while merely the sight of Steve unintentionally flexing his bicep and Bucky moving his metal fingers makes you want to escape into your room. It's hard, because they are pretty much doing that everyday.

Worst of all is your resentment towards Natasha—she caught on so quickly that you barely managed to slip out of Steve's room the night you slept over before she confronted you about your feelings. She very conveniently left out the bet she and Sam had set up, but Bucky found out about that two weeks later and pushed Sam into some bushes. The latter complained about how Bucky didn't cater to his 'bush-related trauma' for much too long after that.

But at the same time, she reinforces your delusions about them liking you back. They are very protective of you, sure, but so are Sam and Natasha. Actually, that might have something to do with your constant knack of getting into the trouble rather than harboring secret, unconditional love for you. Natasha says they look at you with puppy dog eyes, but you think they just always look like that. And the constant touching and pet names are just—it's just who they are. You think.

Another onslaught of heat crashes over your tired body, and you give up completely. There comes a point where even you can't force yourself to work anymore. It's too draining. Instead you gulp down another pill, turn off the lights and throw yourself onto your bed. You groan out of pleasure, but know that it will soon disappear only to be replaced by torturous discomfort.

Yeah, it's good that they aren't here. Gathering the energy to deal with a smug Sam and overbearing Natasha is not in your capacity.

Besides, facing them in this state feels embarrassing. You'll pull yourself together by the time they come home. Just a short nap, and you'll fix your hair. Just twenty minutes of sleep, and you'll put on something presentable. Just some rest, and you'll look good for them.

"Ah, shit—why's it fucking pitch black in here?" Sam seethes as he now limps on his newly stubbed toe, reaching for the hallway light.

The living room is empty and so is the kitchen, they notice that pretty quickly. Usually when you're home alone you cook something elaborate with music blasting in the background, or rewatch that show for the thousandth time. Bucky always gives you a hard time for it, but he usually ends up watching it with you anyways.

"Y/n?" Steve calls out, taking off his jacket before hanging it up on the rack placed by the door.

"Hey, bug—we're home!" Bucky says, walking further into the apartment while searching with his eyes.

The lack of answer gives them anxiety, even though it's probably nothing. Might've gone out. It's Saturday night after all. But you don't really have many close friends outside of them. Unless you're on a date, which quite frantically makes Bucky want to throw up. Yeah, he chooses not to believe that for his own sake.

Natasha bites off another section of her snickers, the one she made everyone stop at the gas station for, while toeing off her shoes. Shoe-free household since you moved in, but exceptions are allowed in emergencies. If you knew that both Bucky and Steve have on theirs right now, you would be mad. But Natasha isn't about to nag about that—she's more focused on getting a huge glass of water for herself. She knows those idiots will take care of whatever's going on.

Steve knocks on your door, waits for too many seconds before calling out for you again.

"Y/n? You okay?" he asks, leaning against the wall.

And because Steve is a considerate man, he doesn't open the door without an answer. But the same can't be said for Bucky—he shoulders past the former and pushes down the door handle without even so much as a sound. He is met with resistance as soon as he steps over the threshold, but all of it comes from the guy behind him.

"Buck—no," Steve seethes through a whisper, trying to pull him back by his shirt unsuccessfully.

Your room is as dark as the rest of the apartment was. Warm and stuffy, rid of any fresh air from outside of the four walls. You've been in here for a long time.

The small strip of light coming into your room reveals your figure splayed out over the unruly covers, a sign of tossing and turning in your sleep.

"Let her sleep, Buck," Steve sighs, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand while leaning against the doorway.

It would be near goddamn foolish to ever expect him to listen. Steve isn't surprised when Bucky steps towards your bed anyway. He lowers down into a crouch, reaching his right hand out for your face.

"Christ, she's burning up," Bucky sighs, pushing himself up to his feet again.

"Shit," Steve answers, passing the threshold into your room while forgetting the previous reservations he held. And as if Bucky's judgement isn't enough, he presses the back of his hand to your forehead. Steve's hand is normally warm, but your skin is a hot furnace against the lines and creases of his palm.

"Fuck, we just left her here all alone." Bucky shakes his head. "We watched fucking Lord of the Rings that we've seen a million fucking times and she laid here suffering with a fucking fever."

"Tone it down with the 'fucks', will you?" Steve tells him.

He turns on the small lamp standing on your bedside table, soft light revealing the dozen tissues spilling out of your trash can. There's not much doubt about your sickness now.

"What do we do? Oh god, what do we do?" The brunette starts pacing as if he has never been more stressed in his life.

"Calm down, Buck. It's a cold, not a heart attack." Steve raises his brows, turns around to glare at his friend. "You've taken care of me dozens of times when I was like this as a child. Go get a glass of water and a few Tylenols."

It seems like it takes a few seconds for Bucky to register Steve's words. Even then he looks anxious, as if he doesn't want to leave. This makes Steve nervous, because Bucky never acts like this, but then again he feels the same way. That's why he told his friend to get you medicine instead of himself.

But Steve could never deny Bucky anything, even if it costs him time watching over the girl he almost certainly cares for more than a friend should. He ignores that part though, and pushes himself up to a stand.

"I'll go," he sighs, gesturing for Bucky to replace him by your side.

The short trek towards the kitchen is filled with anxiety. Why does his heart beat so fast when it's probably just a cold? He just told Bucky to calm down despite feeling anything but calm himself. Just gotten very good at hiding it through the years, he supposes.

Steve has never been the caretaker. He so desperately wanted to be that person during his childhood—the fierce protector, the strong hero, the one bullies cowered away from instead of running towards. Maybe he has been overcompensating for his lack of heroism in his early years now with his friends. The guilt is always eating him up if even the slightest thing happens, because most of the time he can stop those things now. Steve is tall and muscular, fast too, and he's not afraid to speak up anymore.

But things like these—sicknesses—he cannot help except for pouring water down your throat and make sure you're comfortable. Because he wants you to be comfortable so badly, as the slightest sight of pain in any shape or form makes him as gloomy as Sam on days where his favorite football team loses. Steve has known for a while now that you—the girl living on the other end of the hallway who curls up at his side on movie nights and bakes him cookies after each test he's had—is much more than just a roommate. God, he waits by the door for you to come home like a puppy, for goodness's sake. Gets a hard on at least once a day no matter what you are wearing.

And Steve really likes this thing he and Bucky has going on with you. That caretaking thing that he never has gotten a chance to do is now so natural. He and Bucky has adapted this protector-role in your life that makes Steve feel so good. He likes making you happy, making sure you're safe. Like he has a purpose.

"She alright?" Sam speaks up as Steve passes by his room, changing out of his thick sweatshirt to a thinner t-shirt.

"Not really. She has a fever," Steve answers, both hands filled with water, pills and more tissues.

"Oh, shit. How bad? Dr. Wilson bad?"

"No." Steve rolls his eyes. One time Sam helped patch you up and now he has been calling himself Dr. Wilson ever since. "We're taking care of it. She hasn't woken up yet."

"Well, just call for me if she gets tired of your needy asses and wants some Sammy loving instead."

Steve raises his eyebrows, shakes his head like he always does, and moves on. He purposefully quiets his steps down while walking past the occupied bathroom—a fuzzing Natasha is not what you need right now. You already got two overbearing people in your room.

The door is shouldered open by Steve as he returns, realizing as soon as he steps inside that your eyes are open, tiredly nodding along to whatever recap Bucky is giving you of the movies. Steve stays silent, setting down his gifts beside you before crouching down. Soon enough you have him staring up at you, that ever present frown in between his brows.

"Now, will you tell us why in the goddamn hell you did not call or text any of us to say that you were sick?" Steve asks sternly, though his hand is gentle on your head. "Excuse the language."

You let a chuckle slip despite his lecture, because of course he needs to apologize for the very tame curse words inserted into his sentences. Of course Steve scolds you before even saying hello. Such a dad.

"You were at the cinema..." you croak out, glancing down at your intertwined fingers.

"So?" Bucky says with a look on his face that reveals he has no idea what you are talking about.

"I thought you wouldn't notice if I just—didn't think it would get this bad." You pout visibly. A bead of sweat has formed in your hairline, steadily making its trek down your forehead.

"Wait a minute, Y/n—you thought we just wouldn't notice you holing yourself up in your room for days until you were fine again?" Bucky raises his eyebrows, nearly rolling his eyes on you. It sounds dumb now that he says it out loud.

"Yes..."

"For god's sake, bug." He lets his palms scrub over his face while Steve sighs, balancing on the scale between amused and concerned.

"I didn't want to bother you! Besides I'm—this is not my finest moment. Kind of disgusting right now," you say.

"Now, c'mon," Steve tells you with a pointed gaze. "You know we don't care about that."

"You look fucking adorable right now. Just a little shiny, that's all." Bucky pokes you in the forehead, earning an offended gasp from your lips.

"Hey! I have a fever, asshole. I can't help it." The expression on your face is offended, but inside it's all warm and fuzzy because he called you adorable. Bucky fucking called you adorable.

But the playful grin on your lips soon turns into rumbling coughs, hiding your face into your elbow to avoid spreading saliva all over the two men beside you.

"Hey, hey. Take some water, Y/n. Here." Steve's hand flies to your back, rubbing gently, while reaching out the glass towards your lips.

Your throat is all scratchy and sore, and coughing up half of your lungs does not help in the least. But gulping down the cold liquid soothes the pain for the moment, even though most of the water drops down your chin.

"Should I...uh—"

Bucky reaches his hand out towards the box of tissues on your nightstand. Calloused fingers brush over your skin as he rids it of the stray drops, a metal hand tilting your chin up.

It's entirely too silent as you sit and let your face be dried like a toddler. Steve puffs up the pillow behind you, readjusts it until your face is getting enough support.

You don't say anything. Nobody says anything. The two of them work in tandem as they usually do, and have done since they were little boys, while making sure you're as comfortable as you possibly can be.

Soon enough there is a fan dragged in from someone else's room (you think there might be an angry Samuel barging in here any minute to demand it back), three boxes of napkins on your bedside table (you did not know there were that many napkins in your apartment) and four blankets on your bed in case you start shivering again (you do not own four blankets).

You get up to go to the bathroom and end up being carried instead. Being left alone is something you have to literally beg for, because you might, in their words, "pass out". The door remains unlocked as a compromise.

It's sometime around 12 am that you switch off the lights, still feverish and so tired of the sickness already. Mostly you're tired of the babying. But you don't say anything about the fact that both Steve and Bucky remain in your room, sitting on the goddamn floor even though you've told them several times that you have a desk chair and a bean bag. Actually, they have their own beds right on the other side of the hallway. Stupid boys.

They fall asleep pretty quickly, if judging by their snores. Both of them will deny their obnoxious sounds in the morning when you tell them. It makes you happy in one way, because Bucky usually has trouble not staying awake for hours on end grumbling over everything under the sun. Steve is sometimes found in the kitchen at 3 am when you go up for a glass of water, staring blankly out of the window as if he has the entire world resting on his shoulders. On the other hand, you're now the only one awake with your misery and overthinking.

Steve and Bucky definitely cares about you. For you. That much is clear from the past few hours. But to which extent? Is this what they would do for any of their friends? You would like to think so. It feels self-centered to not believe that. But they have been so adamant on making sure you're safe and alright and comfortable today—telling funny stories to distract you and getting caught up in those meaningless, petty fights they know you enjoy so much. Stroking your cheek, calling you sweet names and constantly making you drink water. College boys don't act that way towards their friends, or anyone at all really. You don't know why they are like this.

At the same time, the sweet things have become almost too much. You didn't think it was possible. But it frustrates you that this has become a whole savior-situation for them. Maybe you should want that now. Many girls do—not having to lift a finger while two men come at your every beck and call, and you usually do too. But the thing is that they are not listening to you. They are deciding things for themselves about you.

There comes a point where being helpful and taking care of someone transcends into being condescending. You absolutely can dry away water from your chin yourself. You can go to the fucking bathroom by yourself too, and would actually prefer it that way if you had a say in it.

Maybe you're just sick to the point of extreme irritability. You're probably overreacting to their sweetness because of everything happening in your life right now—this comes at the worst possible time with your final exam for the year in just three days. The final grades for most of your classes come anytime now as well, and you're not sure you did so well in all of them. You haven't even gotten a job for the summer either because no one wants to hire you. It's all pretty shit at the moment.

Barely anything is in your control right now. Not even your own health and how you choose to deal with it, because there are two men hovering over you every second since they came home. This is the first breather you've gotten in way too many hours. You're actually surprised they fell asleep before making sure that you did too, but happy that they did.

Another hour passes before you give up. It's too hot in here, despite cracking the window open half an hour ago, and the fan doesn't do you any wonders. The air is too thick from the small space being occupied by two giants and a sick girl for hours on end, and your bed is too soft.

You silence your coughs as you sneak out of your room out onto the living room couch. It's colder out here. Quiet.

You fall asleep within two minutes.

"Sweetheart, wake up."

"C'mon, Y/n."

"Let her sleep, you assholes."

"She's burning up, for fuck's sake! We gotta do something!"

"Throw cold water on her."

"What the fuck, Sam?"

You groan, stirring awake while your eyes reluctantly flutter open. It feels like they have been glued shut. The fever-aches hit you instantly, distracting you from the mumbled voices right beside you as they try to gain contact.

"She's alive, at least," Sam says right before leaving the room. You barely notice.

"Y/n, hey, can you hear us?" Bucky asks, on his knees in front of the couch.

"Yes," you croak out, rubbing your eye while squinting. It's still early judging by the dimmed morning light coming into the apartment. "Wha—“

"Why did you leave? You have a 103 degree fever, baby. We have to cool you down."

You simply shake your head, letting out a distant hum while sinking down into the pillow once more, letting your eyelids close.

"C'mon. Sit up," Steve tells you, sneaking his hands around your back to push you upwards before you even have a chance to react to his words.

There's too many sounds around you, too many voices and hands prying your body around. You want quiet, like how it was when you went out here a few hours ago. What you sought after from the beginning.

"I want to be alone."

"Well, we're not going to fucking leave you alone right now, Y/n," Bucky says, stress practically seeping out of his pores.

Steve returns from the kitchen. You didn't notice him leaving. He reaches a cold, wet rag out to Bucky who immediately presses it to your burning forehead.

"I can do that myself."

"Nonsense. Just rest," Steve tells you.

"I'm serious. Guys, it's fin—"

"Can you get me the pills on her nightstand?"

He turns his head over his shoulder, nodding for Natasha who disappears into your room without so much as a blink to confirm. Your frustration grows with each second—Steve just entirely ignored you to speak over your words. He doesn't usually do that.

Red hair comes into view again, at least as much as you can see of her from underneath the rag covering half of your eyesight. She tosses the bottle, and you're lucid enough to try and catch it. Bucky grabs it instead.

But when he pours out a pill and begins prodding at your lips you push him away. It's  too much.

"Bucky, stop!"

This is the thing with the two of them—you love being cared for like they watch over you, but right now it just feels demeaning. As if they believe you can't do anything by yourself, as if you will fall and break your bones each time you stand or confront someone who has done you wrong without bodyguards crowding your space. Their intentions are good, so good, but right now it feels like unnecessary babying.  You are a grown woman who just happens to have very bad luck, but that doesn't mean you can't handle yourself at all.

As your yelling echoes through the now quiet room, their expressions fall, even though they did not look too chipper to begin with. Bucky inches back just slightly. Your tone was harsh enough to know that something is wrong.

"I get that the two of you are trying to help me right now, but I can lift my own fucking fingers!" Your face is hidden beneath your hands, head tilted back with a groan.

You can almost feel how their faces change right in front of you, postures tense up. It's not what you wanted—that is their reaction when being confronted, and this is not a scolding. At least you didn't intend it to be from the beginning.

"I just want to sleep right now, okay? I'm not going to die." Your voice softens into a whisper, a large contrast from the previous yelling that has the room quiet as a mouse.

Another three seconds of silence pass after your statement. Now they won't say anything? Steve runs a hand over his mouth, looking away from your gaze. Nervous.

"Uh...okay." He nods, despite looking like he doesn't want to agree. "Just—just take the Tylenol. If it gets worse you'll tell us, right?"

You don't really answer in the way he wants you to, which is not at all. You can tell by the way he purses his lips. Bucky just looks scarily neutral, as if he's schooling his face with every ounce of willpower in his body.

"Alright, boys. Scatter," Natasha says, waving her hands towards their rooms like she's directing an airplane. You guess that's about the organization you need to coordinate the three of them.

Before you can catch Steve and Bucky's conflicted glances, and Sam's slightly shocked expression, you roll around to face the back of the couch. As peace falls over the room, so does sleep once again.

Steve and Bucky take turns tiptoeing into the living room to watch over you each hour.

Natasha sits in the living room chair reading from her iPad when you wake up. It's dark outside—you've been asleep the entire day. She has a cup of tea and half a cookie left on her plate sitting on the table, and does not even stir when you speak up from out of nowhere. Damn her spy skills.

"What time is it?" you croak out, so unbelievably hoarse that you can't even believe words are coming out of your mouth. You kind of regret speaking at all.

"7:32," she tells you while pushing a glass of water your way. The glass is devoured immediately.

While drying away the stray drops of water from your skin, you put the back of your hand against your forehead to realize your fever has gone down significantly. Not gone entirely, you think, but so much better. The only thing worse is the lack of anyone else in this room besides you and Nat.

"Where is everyone?" you ask her, pushing yourself up slightly until you sit up in the couch.

Natasha must instantly clock your hesitant tone, the slight trace of regret in your voice that manages to seep out through your cold-affected throat. She turns your way, leaning forward slightly.

"Hiding in their rooms."

Your face soon gets buried in your hands, leaning back with a groan from your lips.

"I was too harsh on them, wasn't I?" you say suddenly, letting her decipher your muffled words. "Fuck, I upset them. I was too mean."

"No, no. Hey, no," Natasha interjects, clasping her hand around your wrist to reveal your face again. "Babe, you are allowed to have boundaries, and they're not allowed to be bitchy about that."

"But I—they were just trying to help and I went off on them," you whine. "They haven't even talked to me since this morning. I feel like shit about that, Nat."

"They didn't talk to you 'cause you've been fucking asleep, that's why," she says. "And just because their intentions are good doesn't mean they have the right to be around you."

Natasha raises her perfect eyebrow, glancing over her shoulder towards the empty apartment behind her. Her words hit you like a fucking truck no matter how cliche that sounds, regardless of the fact that you have never taken any sort of advice of this sort to heart before. They never used to apply to you earlier.

"You decide that. And I'm sorry that their egos were bruised, but they need to learn how to respect people's wishes even when they believe they are doing the right thing by disregarding them," she tells you.

"Yeah," you breathe out. "Yeah, you're right."

"Sure as fuck I am," Natasha agrees. "Now go tell them that."

"I don't want to," you whine.

"But you have to. They're not gonna learn if you ignore them. And I know they're dying to check up on you."

"They haven't been in here?" you ask, trying to sound more curious than disappointed. Why are you disappointed? You were the one who wanted space.

"I banished them after they kept checking your temperature as you slept seven times within an hour."

Your eyebrows shoot to the roof. Actually, that makes you annoyed. It's cute, but you were sleeping! You had just yelled at them for invading your space and privacy! Goddamn men who worry too fucking much!

She smirks as you struggle your way up from the couch, angrily making your way towards the end of the hallway to your best ability in this state. The knocks on their doors are loud. Both doors open almost at the same time.

"Get in Rogers' goddamn room, Barnes," you mutter, before shouldering your way past the blonde wall of muscle looking entirely too confused for your liking. He's way too cute like that, and you're supposed to be angry.

The two men follow you like obedient puppies, sitting down on Steve's bed when you gesture towards it. You sway slightly after closing the door, resulting in someone shooting up from their position, but quickly falls back when you shoot the brown-haired guy a glare.

For what must be at least five seconds, you stare at the two young men now sitting on Steve's bed, staring up at you nervously as if you are the principal and they've been called into the office for disobedience. It's kind of fun, but you tire quickly of the staring contest, and instead run the back of your hand across your forehead with a sigh.

"I do just fine by myself," you say all of a sudden. No warning, no explanation. "And yes, it's really sweet that you two want to help, but you've completely ignored me and what I want since I got sick. That's not okay."

What started off strong and confident has now turned into looking anywhere but their eyes as you speak. Why are they making you nervous?

"I have boundaries when I'm sick too, you know? And it doesn't exactly feel like you actually care about me when you just push and prod at me like I'm some doll instead of a person who told you repeatedly that I didn't want your help."

You can't really see their reactions, since you're...not looking at them. Instead you have your arms engulfing themselves, fingers picking on your skin and the hem of your shirt nervously. You're not used to confrontation. Almost no training in scolding people at all. Especially not when it comes to people you care about so deeply. But it has to be done, according to Natasha. And maybe you know that she's right.

"And I'm mad at you. But I know that your intentions are good, and this doesn't have to be a big thing...but I just wanted you to know how I felt."

Too many seconds of silence passes after your little speech is done. The only sound in the room is your collective breathing. You're still looking down to the floor, watching your toes wiggle as a distraction.

"You can speak now, if you want to," you add timidly after what must have been half a minute.

The sound of Bucky letting out a long pent up breath almost makes you laugh, but you school your expression as you finally look him in the eyes. He almost burst watching you so fidgety, refusing to look at either of them.

"I'm sorry, babe," Bucky says, volume nearing on a whisper. He didn't mean to say that last word. "I just—I get kind of panicky when people get sick. You know, Steve—"

"I know about Steve's sickness, Buck," you tell him.

"Yeah, but...sometimes when he was like this it would be a life or death situation. Y/n, I've been the one to call 911 several times when I didn't think Steve would make it."

"I didn't know that," you say. "That it was that bad."

"He would start off exactly like you." Bucky pauses for too many seconds, scrunching his nose before shaking his head. "This fucking cough that would never disappear, and then the high fever. But I guess you have a better set of lungs and heart than he did back then."

"Oh, I—I don't know..."

"You're not about to go into heart failure because of a stupid cold," he says, but you think it's more of a reminder for himself. Steve looks at him funnily, as if he's almost sad by Bucky's words. Maybe he didn't know how much his friend saw during their childhood.

"We're sorry we ignored you, Y/n," Steve speaks up. "Now after, I...I can see that we were too overbearing. And you're right, that's not okay. But I don't want you to think we don't view you as a person. That's not true."

His blue eyes do that soft, concerned thing only Steve can pull off. It kind of pisses you off. You're supposed to be mad, but it's hard. Okay, you actually forgave them before you even entered the room, but they don't know that yet.

"Well, it kind of felt like you didn't," you mutter, looking away.

"I know. You don't deserve that," he answers. "I'm really sorry, sweetheart. I promise I'll do better."

You can't help but let the tiniest of smiles grace your lips. They barely notice it, you think.

"Okay. I guess I accept your apologies. But, this doesn't mean that I don't want to be helped at all—it just means that it will happen on my own terms. No more extreme coddling and babying."

Bucky gives you an amused smirk, rubbing his chin with his fingers. God, he would fit in perfectly in a douchy frat house. Idiot.

"You're kinda cute when you're yelling at us, you know?" he tells you. You think both you and Steve share the exact same reaction—Bucky gets a slap to the back of his head from the latter while you just scowl at him.

"You're such a jerk. That is not what you should take with you from this situation," you seethe, even though heat is traveling to your cheeks in an almost unhealthy pace. Goddamn him and his charm. You blame it on the fever.

"Punk," Steve mutters, shaking his head in disapproval while Bucky just ducks away from any further violence. There's still that smug grin on his face though.

"Bucky is a lot more likeable when he's shy and quiet, don't you think?" You turn to Steve, ignoring the brown-haired man now pouting at you. You've already forgotten why you're in this room in the first place. And damn it, you're starting to feel that you're not exactly top condition right now, and you know you have to sit down soon.

"Uh-huh. Is a lot easier to keep in line, at least."

"Hey! I'm right fucking here, you know? Don't talk shit about—"

Bucky doesn't get to finish his sentence before your seemingly healthier state turns critical in just a few seconds. The standing up for too long with a fever and no source of energy for two whole days finally takes it toll, and the clear focus you had on your boys turns into a big blur. A thud sounds through the room as your side crashes into Steve's drawer, balance lost completely before you could even notice you were dizzy in the first place. Within a second you're on the floor with a throbbing pain in the back of your head.

"Ow."

"Fuck," Bucky breathes out as he gets to his feet with Steve right on his heel, crossing the few feet's distance between you. "I know you just said we shouldn't coddle you...but—"

"It's fine. I'll give you a pass," you manage to get out while rubbing the back of your head, a small chuckle escaping your lips.

Strong hands pull you up to your feet, embracing your unsteady body so your head rests against Bucky's chiseled chest. Steve has his palm on your back, searching for any kind of contact.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asks while Bucky leads you to the bed, forcing you to lie down.

"I don't think it was such a good idea to stand for that long," you say with a tired smile.

"Well, I tried to tell—" Bucky stops himself in the middle of the sentence, catching himself doing exactly what he promised he wouldn't. You grin at him, patting his thigh the best you can from your position.

"Good boy. Already learning."

The man blushes like a grown man has not done ever. You don't notice though, of course you don't, and his momentary weakness remains harmless. Steve doesn't point it out, because he's too engrossed by looking at the now sore spot at the back of your head. But you never notice, and Steve almost begins to think you're avoiding the signs on purpose. You should have noticed by now. Sam and Natasha certainly have—they can't give either of them a break when it comes to teasing about you.

"Fuck, this is the last thing I needed," you groan, putting your hands up to cover your face while leaning back into what now feels like Steve's thighs. When did he move you?

"Know it sucks, bad timing and all that, but maybe a sign to take it easier?" Bucky says, though he has to clear his throat first to rid it of the thickness he gained from your little comment earlier.

"What d'ya mean?" you mumble, eyes closed.

Maybe you were overreacting earlier. Now, with their hands in your hair and stroking your legs soothingly, you feel great. As if they really do care about you. But it's different now, you guess.

"Sweetheart, you've been stressing yourself to death this past month. You have this irrational fear, which is completely wrong, that you will fail all of your classes when you absolutely are not going to," Steve tells you.

"Maybe..." you mutter.

"Yeah, lay it down, will you? 'M only taking it easy on you with the scolding now 'cause you're sick, but it's actually worrying. Don't know why you think so low of yourself when it comes to school. You've done great the entire time."

"I can't help it," you whisper. "But I really don't want to study anymore. I'm tired."

Steve chuckles at you, shaking his head. "You don't have to. If you're good to do the test in two days—and I really mean if—you're already perfectly prepared. Been studying for a month. God knows I ain't ever studied that long for an exam."

"I know..."

"But even without me and Steve...helping, I, uh—are you gonna be fine 'till then?" Bucky asks, a new concerned frown in between his eyebrows appearing.

"You are allowed to help me, Buck. I never said that you couldn't," you tell him. Your eyes are closed, deep breaths being taken to rid yourself of the nausea. Despite this, you notice his restlessness over the thought.

"Yeah. I guess. Just don't want you...don't want you to be sick anymore," he mutters under his breath, as if though he wishes you could not really hear it.

This is the Bucky you usually see. The one who's a little shy and has trouble expressing his feelings, except if it's anger. Then he has all the willpower in the world to act on it. The guy who cares very deeply about his friends and becomes closed off when he can't help them.

"Not super excited about this either, Barnes," you whisper, arm thrown over your face to shield you from the rest of the world.

"We're on last name basis now, huh?" Steve says. You can hear the smirk in his voice.

"Uh-huh." You nod to your best ability. "You deserve that."

"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie," Bucky speaks up, wearing a grin that falls just as quickly as it appeared. A dreaded, wide-eyed expression dawns upon his face as he stares at the two of you. The realization is painful.

"What? What did you just say?" You lift your head up from Steve's lap, staring at Bucky who's now beet red.

"Buck..."

"Oh, shit."

[ziamln]

Long ramble post. [1D]

I’m feeling nostalgic, overanalysing shit, and bored on a Thursday night with nothing to do. You can read this or skip over it, especially if you disagree, I’m not looking for drama. This will probably be messy and incoherent with 0 structure. For those of you who weren’t there during the 1D era, this may be confusing, particularly if you weren’t there during the shit storm that was 2015/16. Again, feel free to skip this, as it will be long and probably won't make sense, but this is my blog so you don’t necessarily have to agree with me. Before I go into this I feel like I need to clarify, I am proud of all 5 boys and their solo careers, I support them all wholeheartedly, and my saying I miss OT5 doesn’t mean I don’t. some things are facts stated by the boys others are merely a speculation or my own deduction from what has been implied or reading between the lines, just to put that out there. Bear in mind I am a Ziam blog, Liam and Zayn have always been my focal point, and always will be and I also have a Louis [& slight Larry] bias so, do what you will with that information. Basically feel free to skip!

It was so good to see Zayn in an interview after so long [I can't lie it's so weird hearing people commenting on his talking voice as something new and unusual], but hopefully, he’ll actually get better promo for this upcoming album, I’m super excited either way, his music is rarely short of anything but a masterpiece. But there’s a line in Zayn’s recent podcast which stuck out to me.

Personally, I found this intriguing, because at least to me, I feel as though it explains quite a few things. Particularly regarding Zouiam [Zayn, Louis and Liam], I’m not saying it didn’t apply to Niall or Harry but, I feel like it provides some sort of perspective on things others have speculated on, and also some things I have speculated on. Again, this is merely a speculation on my part, you don’t have to agree [scrolling is very easy]. I will not claim to know as much as I may have known about all 5 of them as I did 8 years ago, admittedly, though I support most of the boys through listening to their music, I don’t pay much attention beyond that to anyone other than Zayn, Liam and sometimes Louis, this isn’t to say I don’t like Niall, I enjoy his music or Harry, I have always been a Ziam/ Zouiam account and have always stuck to them, and as solo artists, I prefer their music, even during their time as a band. [As I’m sure many have a preference for the other boys. I don’t see an issue with it unless it is purposefully disrespectful or hateful to others.]

I know a lot of people are stuck on the line of how after ‘5 years together they all got sick of one another’, which is understandable and perhaps almost inevitable. [Personally, as someone with a sibling I definitely understand the sentiment] I don’t see any malice or drama in it, it would naturally happen to anyone after so many years of constantly being together, with barely any breaks and performing together non-stop for almost 5 years. It would catch up to even the most patient of people, especially considering how they were literally teenagers/ young adults the whole time. Nothing he said in that interview was hateful at all.

Also not to dismiss his line about how he said "I completely selfishly wanted to be the first person to go and make my own record." with this, whilst I’m not saying it’s untrue because it could be true that that's what happened. But I can’t deny its a little confusing because of the number of times the story of his reasoning for leaving the band has been changed throughout the years, initially, it started as him citing stress and saying he wanted to be a ‘normal 22-year-old’, then it was that he said there was ‘never any room for me to experiment creatively’ made sense as it was rumoured that his writing had been snubbed on Four and it could possibly be a mixture of all the reasons combined. But my point is we have been given many different reasons, but we will probably never know the full truth, so at this point, it's anyone’s guess as to what the actual reasoning was.

Of course, there is no doubt that behind the scenes of the entire One Direction era was a complete shit show, as has been stated/ hinted at by most if not all members at this point in some way, shape or form. So we can only begin to imagine the stress and pressure they were constantly put through. There is a lot we don’t know about that time, and probably never will. Some things are perhaps even traumatic for the boys who had to go through it, all we can do is speculate and be as supportive as possible as fans. 

I mean I feel like this trauma has presented itself in different ways with each member, perhaps in ways we will never know, Zayn himself has stated that we could never understand that time as it is something only they would get. 

In terms of image and what they show; Niall is quiet, unproblematic and as far as I’m aware he seems pretty much like, other than his music and tours, he keeps to himself. Harry from my impression, is a loudly quiet person, by this I mean, he comes across as loud as though he divulges a lot, people may claim he is the one who people have the most knowledge of, which is true to an extent. But in terms of his personal life, there are limitations, understandable of course, but it seems to me we only know what we are shown and the rest is left to be read between the lines. 

Louis, I feel as though we learn more about him through his music, his private life is fairly private, other than what he talks about and what we are shown, [side note: not everything that we are shown is necessarily how it is/true, this applies to all 5 boys] Louis is also quite an interesting case, we saw him get progressively quieter as time went on, especially in comparison to how he was in 2010/11, [many fans who believe in Larry attribute this to him being pushed into the closet and having to hide his more ‘flamboyant nature’] or it could be a simple case of all the stress and difficult life events taking its toll, or even [I think it's likely] a combination of all of this. Either way, it has been disheartening to witness.

Zayn has always been the most misunderstood I think. As Zayn himself said, they were all given personas and that has stuck with them from their time in the band, even until this present day I would say, [I wish some would consider this in Liam's case but that's for another post]. If you saw Zayn from 2010/11 he wasn’t particularly ‘mysterious’ or such, in fact, he was quite boisterous and funny if my memory serves me correctly, but again If the management wanted them to have a certain persona they were going to make sure it stuck. Zayn has always kept his private life exactly that, private. Typically in the case of his relationships [I would say this applies to some of Liam's also] but the main times we would hear about Zayn's relationships is if it was to make Zayn out to be a bad guy or to benefit the woman he was dating at the time through PR or some way as such, which is quite telling in itself.

Liam, again, people would think Liam is quite public and we know a lot about him but if you pay close attention, it's not the case at all. We don't know anything other than what we are told by the press or what we see. This is the case for all of them but as we know, from recent videos that Liam has done, there are a lot of other factors at play and a lot of distortion of stories and such that happens that we will never truly understand, we can only look out for it.  [another side note: IMO Liam is the full package he’s got the vocal range, the lyrical range, the melodies the dance moves, the fashion but he got so sabotaged and that pisses me off so much.]  Liam had always been the spokesperson for One Direction whilst in the band. Some people, particularly some groups of ‘fans’ or newer fans think that all his talking about 1D is him ‘trying too hard’ or whatever else to bash him. But the truth is, if you look closer, he never really stopped being the spokesperson for the band. He speaks on all of their solo endeavours, all of their achievements, indulges the nostalgic fans and is the one who most openly shows his support, he still holds the role of the spokesperson, just in a different manner. 

At a point you would seldom hear them talk about their One Direction days, unless you are the spokesperson... [it has become more frequent now], which is understandable as they are now Solo artists and perhaps wanting away from that image, but it is also quite curious in a way. But that is best left for another ramble. However, up until recently, I feel like the boys who have spoken the most about the band have been, in a sense, allocated to speak more on the topic than others [Personally I link this to the Politics comment, I’ll explain a little later on] But I find it interesting as to the different reactions we get from certain groups about each member when they do speak about their time in One Direction. Typically, Harry and Niall are met with positive reactions, with a few exceptions of course. Zayn sits in between, some of it gets regarded with nostalgia, other reactions are positive and hopeful and then the outright negativity too. Louis again sits in the middle. Liam however, you do of course get nostalgia and of course positive reactions from his fans and some OT5 fans. However, this is severely outweighed by the negativity he receives for it from *certain* ‘fans’ and some newer fans and just general people who like to jump on the hate bandwagon [side note: my god I miss 2013/2014 1D Twitter].

I’m not sure how many remember ‘Weed Gate’, how this was in a way at the time ‘damaging’ to the clean image they had and how much shit it was speculated to have caused behind the scenes, involving Zayn and Louis. 

Louis and Zayn take a video doing weed in a car in one of the Peru (where weed isn’t illegal) on tour, there started some articles that make it sound like Zayn was sick or addicted to drugs. I feel like this was also a big player in how things turned out, Zayn took most of the heat from this and from our end it looked like no one did a thing to help. [We don't know what happened BTS]. Particularly interesting from this headline was the reiterating of the ‘squeaky clean image’, not long after this there were articles about 1D not getting along that came out of nowhere, particularly about how Harry was really angry with them and such. Even more interestingly disgustingly, Zayn took on most of the heat from this despite Louis also being in the video. 

Not long after this, Zayn missed some promo interviews and the album release in Orlando because of 'illness’, they get asked on the Today show if it’s actually because of drugs [entirely inappropriate] Liam, [looking pissed] reiterated it was a stomach bug. it would also be poignant to point out that Zayn looked very unwell at the time [I would think this would be regarding the eating disorder he previously mentioned] but many thought and press stated it as being related to drugs. At the time he was also, as he did throughout his time in the band, until this very day in fact, received disgusting prejudice and hate based on his religion and ethnicity. 

To touch lightly on the politics comment: obviously, we won't know the full extent. But if one were to speculate on the matter; we know certain people had been trying to pinch Harry since pretty early on in the band, so it would make sense that some of the comments Zayn made about the contracts make a lot of sense, I feel like it also links well with what Louis said about Harry calling the Hiatus. 

‘Certain people didn’t want to sign contracts,’ This line is so vague, but at the same time, I feel like it could be linked to a number of things. It could have been Harry wanting to leave to go solo. If you believe in Larry and Ziam it could have been a harsher contract regarding keeping them hidden with more shit attached. It could have been regarding the music they make, ridiculous NDA’s or any number of things, the speculation could be endless. However, it further reiterates the point that we can never understand fully what was at play behind the scenes, as much as we would like. But one thing we did see was how the boys went from being seemingly happy, excited and relatively carefree to burdened, exhausted and jaded which is somewhat self-explanatory [fuck 1DHQ]. I was going to add a bit about their images regarding the politics but I believe that is best left for another post.

If you think the boys are free/ ever have been, I’m sorry to burst your bubble but I doubt that has ever been the case, be that within the band or as solo artists. Feel free to check out this post if you require more insight, https://www.tumblr.com/yaz-the-spaz/662781923367747584?source=share. I don't think we could ever understand, nor will we ever know the extent of what the boys were/ have been put through. Hence why they all say they have a special bond because only they understand. I feel as though villainizing any particular member is very harmful, because at the end of the day at the time they were kids doing something so amazing that hadn't really been done on that scale before. What I do find gross is the fact that some refuse to speak up about the unnecessary hate certain groups give to other members [that again is another post entirely]. At the same time, it is important to remember whilst it might seem like other members have more freedom than others, which could be the case, it doesn't mean any of them are entirely free.

I’d say back to my point, but I wasn't particularly trying to make one in this post, this was simply an info/ speculative ramble, you don't have to agree with what has been said. But if you did read through, I’d love to, respectfully, of course, hear your thoughts, and opinions on everything. I will make posts on everything I’ve said requires its own post because I feel as though there is a lot to talk about on a number of topics so they will come in due time. 

At the end of the day, as Zayn [and Liam in the past] said; “You know, we’ve done crazy things with each other and that nobody else in the world will ever understand or have them. Experiences that we've shared.”

But yeah, all in all, it was good to hear Zayn talk about his chickens and describe himself as a chill, funny and loving guy because it's so much more true to him than being painted as mysterious and I love that for him.

[cousticks]

(im not sure if I asked this alr. please excuse my fried brain TT)

What top 5 bsd relationships do you find the most interesting/appeals to you? (can be platonic/familial/duo/etc)

no pressure btw 💗

oh gosh. top 5 most interesting??? i was rotating this in my mind at work all day and was still struggling. so here's five character interactions in no particular order

i'm always down for dynamics among the "big 4" aka the two younger soukoku generations. dazai chuuya atsushi akutagawa. both in their pairings and among each other--observing the different ways dazai interacts with atsushi vs with akutagawa will always be interesting to me as its a measure of dazai's own growth. i like the respect akutagawa and chuuya have for each other as coworkers and powerful ability users. atsushi and akutagawa......... they. them. those two. there's so much there. i think we're robbed of chuuya and atsushi interactions because there's SOOO many parallels between them that i like to chew on. and of course there's dazai and chuuya. which i have a lot of thoughts on, all the time. but... all four of them together and each respective dynamic is really interesting. the way being powerful ability users all shoved together on the front lines of every major catastrophe of the city messes with them each individually and together is fun.

this one is more recent for me but oda and dazai's friendship is really interesting to me, and the way oda's influence has followed dazai through his life (and multiple timelines). oda has grown on me as a character a lot recently, and i'm usually obsessed with dazai, so its natural for me to gravitate towards interactions between them.

i can't make a post about pairings without discussing rimlaine. rimbaud and verlaine and all their fucking problems. stormbringer is such a book. i could ramble for days about those two and it would never be enough. how rimbaud never stopped trying to understand. how verlaine didn't realize anything until it was too late. they're tragic and make me miserable. i'm obsessed with them.

the ada dynamics in general! i love seeing all of them come from all the wild pasts they do and coming together to be such a powerful group, to the point they can brush the entire mafia aside without much of a struggle. i love them all dearly. especially kunikida. but... all of them, really.

chuuya and his pseudo-siblings! like kouyou. i love their interactions a lot. i also kinda assign him the team older brother. kyoka? she was kouyou's charge. she's chuuya's little sister now. can't get around it. q? weird kid locked up in the dungeons? that's his little sibling. and verlaine goes here too because sure, they don't have an amicable sibling relationship, but they still have some kind of interaction, i believe. all the chuuya siblingships are fun to me.

there's so many more that i find interesting, honestly. like, i know i said the ada in full, but specifically ranpo and fukuzawa will always be fun to look at in their silly little family dynamic. katai hanging out in his futon shouldn't be ignored, someone (kunikida) has to check on him. whatever the hell steinbeck and lovecraft have going on? fascinating. the way dazai and fyodor go back and forth? the dead apple triumvirate?? every dynamic in bsd has its place in my heart honestly this was REALLY difficult to even think of a top 5. so this is more like a top 27 lmao

[babylooneytoonz]

200 Followers Appreciation Post

I'll be very honest, two months back when I joined Tumblr, I hadn't expected that my writings will be read by many, and the last thing I had expected was to be followed. Now look far we've come, from 0 followers to 200.

A personal thank you and a lot of love to each and every follower of mine.

I think this is the best part of our fandom. We love each other like family.

As a little token of my thank you, I decided to publish two of my requests combined as one today. Hope you like it. 💓

Tommy Shelby x Fem! Reader

Request 1- Prompt "We can’t win. Either I have you and my soul sings but your cries, or we’re apart and your soul rejoices but mine dies."

Request 2- Reader was always in love with Tommy, thinking he can't love her back she starts writing cheap novels as a way to deal with it. Her books become popular and everything is cool until Tommy finds out about her hobby and notices similarities between her writing and real life.

Warnings - Angst

GIF Credits - @thomasshelbyltd thank you. ❤️

A Maid's Diary

 You slumped against your desk, letting your head rest against the old wooden table top, your elbows on either side of your face. Your desk was a cluttered mess, with sheets of paper flooded all over. In your hand, you held a pen, as you were just seconds back, scribbling vigorously on a parchment as an idea had just hit you, and just as swiftly, the idea had vanished from your mind.

You couldn't forget and you couldn't forgive your best friend, Linda, for having betrayed you by sharing your diary to a local printing press, who had, without your permission, published your countless feelings that you had penned down in your little diary, without even your consent, although they didn't take the credit for it. You were still the writer, even though the publishers never published your real name on it, just a pen name.

As much as you hated to admit it, the little push made by your friend had worked tremendously and your popularity had grown amongst the lower middle class especially; as that is where you hailed from. They loved your modesty, they loved how humble and down to earth you were, although you were extremely talented.

Little did they know, that the book that had been published, as an act of mistake, was actually based on your life.

"What is it that you are reading?" Tommy pushed his round glasses over his eyes, as he looked through them and fixed his broody stare on his wife.

Grace was sprawled on the couch in his study, shimmering in a beautiful pearl white satin nightgown hanging loosely over her slender frame, her natural blonde hair falling loosely over her shoulders. She seamlessly brought up her ring studded hand to her hair, running her fingers through the locks as her eyes came to rest on her husband.

"Would you look at this Tommy?" She raised a red little book in her hand, showing it to him briefly, before she sat back more comfortably. Their son, Charlie, crawled about on the carpeted floor, playing with a toy train. "I don't know who this woman is, but if you read this book, you would feel like you are a bloody part of it."

"Is it one of those fucking love stories again, Grace?"

"It's much more than that, love. It's complex. It's like reading a person's life, living her memories."

"Right, well, I'm out, I've got a bloody meeting with Arthur at the pub." He stood up, sliding his hand into his waistcoat and pulling out the pocket watch, taking a quick glance at it. He then kissed his wife a goodbye, lifting Charlie up in his arms, "Be good, you cheeky little oaf."

Little did he know, how that would be the last week, that he was spending home with his wife. The next week, Grace Shelby was shot, and she couldn't make it.

As days inched by, Tommy started growing more and more morose. Although he didn't show it, those around him felt it everyday. The snapping and the yelling increased, and Tommy found himself sleeping less and less, and chugging down more and more of that alcohol to keep his mind at rest. There were weeks when Tommy didn't see his son. Although he felt guilty, for neglecting him, as the poor child had lost his mother, just like he had lost his wife, he couldn't bring himself to face him, as he reminded him so much of her.

Soon, weeks turned into months and finally, Tommy's agony subsided to a bit. It wasn't as if it was an overnight process, but somehow, over the course of time, Tommy didn't feel the hurt anymore, as he initially did— or maybe, he learnt to live with it.

One night, when the nightmares crippled him to such an extent that he found himself unable to sleep, he decided to go through Grace's belongings, something he had kept locked up in the attic, afraid to touch them. Holding a lantern in his hand, he walked up the flight of stairs, the old floorboards creaking underneath the weight of his foot as he stepped into the dinghy little room. In a corner, a brown crate was hoarded up, keeping all of Grace's belongings.

Pulling off the the wooden board that was nailed shut, he pried it off and ran his hand through the dust coated silk dresses, his fingers gently brushing against the fabric. He let out a weak, pained exhale, slowly sliding down against the floor, pulling his hand out as he started fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette.

With a lit cigarette in his left hand, he slid his right hand back in, feeling around the box until his palm hit something hard. Pulling it out, he saw a little red book that was now turning a shade of purple at the edges. The book was coated in a sheet of dust, causing Tommy to squint his eyes slightly and scrunch up his nose as he brushed the dust off its cover.

A faint smile, a fond remembrance of Grace reading this book with such enthusiasm brought a weak smile to his lips. He took a drag of his cigarette, pulling himself off the floor and pocketed the book, walking out of the attic.

It was his eyes, eyes that could hold an entire ocean in them, that captivated me. I often found myself looking at him, stealing glances, when no one was looking. A part of me begged for his attention, hoping, yearning that he would atleast give me a glance but he never did.

The more he read through the passages, the more he realized what Grace had meant. This was not just a book, it was someone's life, it was someone's feelings. The words were simple and not at all fancy, the backdrop set was not that of a fine mansion, it was a tiny little house, in a clamoured street, a family of five siblings, four boys and one girl, and the writer, who was just a servant. The writer knew the love she felt for one of the sons of the house was wrong, improper and it was forbidden because she was a servant and they were her employers but she couldn't help how she felt, no matter how hard she tried to forget. Tommy couldn't help but feel drawn— drawn to the writer's pain, her anguish and the feeling of being stuck at the end of a self destructive, one sided love. He knew what it meant to not get to be with the person you loved. He had experienced the pain, although in a different sense but somehow, he could relate. Although Thomas Shelby didn't show any feelings, he had eventually fallen head over heels in love with Grace Burgess and life with her had been a life of roses and poppies, while he was a crown of thorns; that Grace bravely adorned on her head.

It was a cold night, and I was freezing. I could feel my cheeks turning to stone and my hands fervously rubbing against my arms to keep myself warm. I could see them right in front of my eyes; the whole family. They looked happy. They brothers were teasing their sister, who had a look of dismay plastered over her face, and the youngest brother, who was just a toddler, ran about the parlour, sucking on his thumb. I wondered if it was selfishly wrong of me to think of him in this way, to imagine how our little household would have been, had I been bound to him by marriage. I wondered if it was a sin, wondering what I would have named our children if we had a handful of them.

Thomas found himself leaning back comfortably in bed, straining into his glasses, wanting to read more, although his body and his eyes were beyond tired. It was as though he could see a glimpse of his life before the war had been, right through someone else's eyes. He could see little Finn, perched on the carpeted floor, running his toy train all over it, making a weird engine sound with his mouth while John and Arthur teased Ada for something she had probably said. He could picture himself by the window, staring at the dimly lit sky, the illuminating stars, thinking of the moment Greta took her last breath, her frail hand falling limp in his warm one.

How unlucky had he been with women, he had watched the women he loved die, in in his arms.

As I scrubbed the dishes in the kitchen, I could hear the curses in the parlor. He was screaming at himself, bringing the dishes down, breaking them one by one. No one dared stop him, because no one wanted to be slammed against the wall or have to be the one taking a porcelain hit on his face. I wondered if I should step in, maybe give him some tea but I didn't. Maybe, he didn't need it. It was only later that I found out he had lost the love of his life.

He shoved the book aside and sat up straighter, running his palm through his face, his breathing shaky and rushed. He grabbed his cigarette box off the bedside table and lit himself a cigarette. Maybe reading this book had been a mistake, it was opening up all his raw wounds that he had buried away.

He was leaving. I wanted to ask him when he would be back but of course, that would have been such a silly question. And besides, he had a lot more on his plate, why would he want to speak to a servant? I stood behind the kitchen wall, listening to the solemn parting, the shuffling of feet, listening to them leave until finally I could hear them no more— I could hear him no more.

Years after years, I went on with life, with a smile on my face. I did what I always did in the mornings; scrubbing the floors clean, washing the dishes, preparing supper and doing the laundry. At night, though, I thought of him and his blue eyes. I wondered if there was any news, for I hadn't heard anything about him in ages. Maybe my prayers were finally answered, the war ended and they all were back home. Only they weren't themselves. The war had killed a part of them. They were the ghosts of war, left to meander the Earth until they finally died.

"Mr. Shelby?" Tommy sharply looked up, his eyebrows straightened into a visible frown.

"Yes, Mary?"

"Charlie's asleep, the supper's ready. I was wondering if I could get a night off—"

"Mary, you may. You have bloody worked hard enough to earn a night off. Go on then, hurry up, it's pretty dark outside."

He watched her leave, staring at the door before bringing his gaze back to the book, wondering if the writer was out there somewhere. And he wondered, and hoped, that she had finally gotten to be with the man she loved. She deserved it. She deserved all the happiness in the world.

I finally mustered the courage, after what seemed like eternity, to speak my heart out. I was afraid of rejection, but he deserved to know. I deserved to be free of this heavy secret in my heart. I didn't care if he would ask me to leave, stop coming to work from tomorrow but he needed to know I loved him. So, I stepped out into the chilly night, wrapping myself with whatever warm I could find. I walked and walked, until I was at his pub. Of course, he wasn't there. With a heavy heart then, I thought of going back home, through an alley, that was a shorter route. Little did I know, I was never going to get the man I loved for he already had the woman he loved, the woman from the pub; that barmaid. I saw the man I was in love with, from a window, the way I always imagined him to be with me, kissing her and stroking her cheeks. It was as though I heard a devastating sound somewhere close by, but it was nothing but my heart—shattered into two.

Thomas Shelby was many things, but he was not ignorant, or dumb. He slammed the book shut, shoving it on the bedside table. His heart was racing rapidly and he could feel blood rush through his veins. Arching his body forward, placing his elbows on his thighs, he buried his face into his palms. Every single detail in the book, every single piece of writing was something he had experienced before. It couldn't be a mere coincidence, could it? He slid out of bed, stomping through the hallway into his study until he was perched on a stool by the telephone his fingers frivolously moving against it. He knew what he had to do now.

"Pol?" He mumbled into the phone the instant he heard her on the other side.

"Tommy? It's fucking midnight, what's the bloody matter?" Tommy didn't mind he had woken her up. He needed answers.

"Do you remember a maid that worked for us?" He sighed into the receiver.

"Tommy, we have hired a dozen fucking maids, which one are you talking about?"

"She was with us when Greta died, when we went to war—"

On the other side of the telephone, Polly's demeanour softened. She remembered you, she even knew how you loved Thomas, but she could never bring it up to her lips, because she knew that you and Thomas had no future.

"Yes."

"Do you know where she is? And for fucks sake, don't lie."

Your coffee mug lay on the table untouched, smoke bellowing out of it in waves. Outside your window, snow drizzled from the sky, like tiny droplets of fur falling to the ground, your garden sheeted in pristine virgin white.

"Love, you have to bloody see this," your friend Linda's voice echoed through the closed door, loud enough to alert you.

"What is it?" You threw open your window, watching your bestfriend stand at the gate, her eyes fixed to your window, "Just get your bloody arse down here (Y/N), I have to show you something. Come on out, now."

Annoyance.

You practically ran down the flight of stairs, not even stopped to calm your breaths.

"Jesus, Linda, it's fucking snowing, I'm going to freeze to—"

"Sorry love." Linda gave you an apologetic smile, her index finger pointing towards the silhouette of a man leaning by your front gate, slowly sliding out of the periphery of gaze. Neither were you watching her. You were watching a ghost of your past, that stood leaning by the metal gate on your front door, a cap on his head, a long overcoat drawn over his scrawny body. He had gotten weaker than you had last seen him.

"Miss (Y/N)." His voice was curt, yet warm, without a trace of malice in it. After all these years, he was right here, on your doorstep.

"Mr. Shelby? Would you like to come in?"

He shook his head, rather, his eyes and you knew that he didn't want to talk in the confines of your home, under prying eyes. He slowly pulled out a book from his pocket and your eyes widened. Your fingers flew to your lips and you felt a rush of blood in your body, an instant feeling of being in the warmth of a fireplace. You wanted to reply, but you couldn't find the words.

"You read my book, you found me out."

"It wasn't that fucking difficult to figure it out, love."

"Jesus, would you please come in? It's freezing out here, you're going to bloody catch a cold—"

He cut you off as you turned to walk in, grabbing you by your arm, not hard, but firm enough to stop you from walking. He then pulled you towards him, your front hitting his hard chest, to look into his face.

"It was you all along?"

You didn't know what to say anymore. He had found you out. After all these years.

"I don't understand—" You whispered, shaking your head. You couldn't lie, his eyes were making you nervous and all the feelings that had simmered over the course of time were finally lighting up again. "I'm sorry, I didn't know it will get published."

"Do you believe in destiny?" He cut you off.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to mentally think where he was going with this, "Perhaps, Mr. Shelby, but you need to be clearer than that."

"I didn't believe in fucking destiny, until this minute. I can't believe I'm fucking saying this—" You could see reluctance in his eyes, an inward fighting. You could see that he was thinking hard, probably having a hard time figuring out what he should say to you. "You remember Greta?"

You were hundred percent sure you weren't smiling, but had you been smiling, it would have withered.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby, the girl that died holding your hand, the girl you loved."

"Good, and what about Grace? The woman you saw at the fucking window."

Your cheeks reddened at the remark with embarassment, making you regret how he had read that part. That was a private thing between Thomas and Grace.

"I didn't mean to pry, I was just passing through the alley and I looked up and I —" You voluntarily bit on your tongue in an attempt to silence yourself because you knew you were babbling and your words were not making much sense. You needed to compose yourself, compose your thoughts.

"I married her, yeah? And do you know what happened then?"

You closed your eyes briefly, hoping he wouldn't see the pain in your eyes. When you blinked your eyes open again, you straightened slightly, almost taking a step away from him. He caught your arm, pulling you back to him.

"We have a lovely boy together, Charlie, he's three almost."

You wondered if Tommy was here to chastise you, to make you apologize, or maybe, your book had caused a rift in their marriage.

"She was shot. Fucking took a bullet that was meant for me. I fucking watched her die. Twice, (Y/N). I think it was my destiny. Will you ask me why?"

"Mr. Shelby—" You hopelessly began, trying to tell him how sorry you were about what had happened. But what could you do? It wasn't as if you had shot Grace.

"Just bloody ask me why."

You stiffened at the harshness of his voice.

"I- Why?"

"Because this fucking destiny had something else in mind for me. Perhaps it was you all along, the one I was maybe meant to be with."

Your eyes widened in surprise at his words, a sudden palpitating feeling in your heart, a sudden throbbing in the back of your mind. You pulled your arm away, wincing slightly at his sudden outburst, instantly moving away.

"Your words make no sense. Will you please stop?"

He parted his lips in an attempt to reply, but all that shot out of his plump lips was foggy winter air and he shut it. His hand flew to the side of your face, but he didn't touch you. He merely took a loose strand of your hair, curling it over his index finger. You could feel the sudden tension, his lips so close to you, you knew if you didn't stop him, he would kiss you. And later regret it.

"Mr. Shelby, this is a mistake. If I was your destiny, I would be the one buried in a grave and not the women you loved. I did love you," you spoke, hopelessly pulling yourself one step away but this time he didn't make an attempt to pull you close, perhaps having sensed your reluctance.

He raised his eyebrow, "Did?"

"I still do, but I don't think we were meant to be."

"I see," he almost stepped closer, reluctantly, fighting for control at the back of his mind. This was a new feeling. He knew he didn't love you yet, but at the same time, he knew he was in love with the woman from the book. The woman who had always loved him.

"Why?"

A single word can hold a vast meaning. A single word can have an answer that you could probably write a book on.

"Because Thomas .. We can’t win. Either I have you and my soul sings but your cries, or we’re apart and your soul rejoices but mine dies," you whispered in a low voice, tears shrouding into your eyes.

"Yet there's a bloody thing that binds us to each other. Something neither you nor I can see," he mumbled under his breath, sliding his hand into his pocket, pulling out a box of cigarettes.

You didn't know what to say to him. Your mind was fervently throbbing through your skull. Your heart leapt with joy but your mind didn't let you be at ease. He waited a few seconds but when he realized you had made up your mind, he decided he will not push you. You had given him the answer. You didn't want him. He nodded softly, letting his eyes wander down to your feet for a bit before giving you a last look as he turned his tail and started walking off, his boots crushing the snow as he started walking away.

And just like that, you realized that history was repeating itself. But this time, it was all your fault. You were letting him walk away when you could finally be happy.

"Thomas stop.." His name flew out of your mouth even before you could clamp your mouth shut. You saw him freeze, but this time, he didn't turn your way, but with his back turned towards you, you missed the hint of a smile that crossed his lips; the way you had stopped him meant that he still had hope.

"I would like to work for you again, does Charlie need a nanny?" You bit your lip.

It was nothing, but yet, it was a start. If destiny really wanted the two of you together then you wanted to try it out from the beginning, maybe make the man fall in love with you and not the woman who wrote the book. You wanted him to love you and not pity you.

"Twenty shillings, you stay at the Arrowe House, no further will be discussed on that, yeah?"

You gave him a weak smile, although you could not see his face.

"I'll see you tomorrow then, Mr. Shelby, first thing in the morning at 9."

He nodded and then, sliding his hands into his pockets, he walked away, his heavy boots crushing the snow underneath, generating a squishing, crunching sound until you could hear him no more. You couldn't wipe that smug smile from your face as you looked up at the sky, scrunching up your nose when you felt something cold; perhaps a snowflake had landed on the tip of your nose. It was a start, a start of a new day and who knew, perhaps a new life for you. Needless to say, you were excited.

[underqualified-human]

I posted 202 times in 2021

103 posts created (51%)

99 posts reblogged (49%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 1.0 posts.

I added 184 tags in 2021

#aries reblog - 55 posts

#x reader - 25 posts

#aries writing - 24 posts

#aries rambles - 21 posts

#one punch man x reader - 11 posts

#opm x reader - 11 posts

#aries incorrect - 10 posts

#garou x reader - 10 posts

#masterlist - 9 posts

#demon slayer x reader - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 113 characters

#reminds me of this one time during break where my sleep schedule got so messed up that i full-on became nocturnal

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

OPM x reader incorrect quotes

These aren't mine, got them using this. (＾ｖ＾)

-

Y/N: Do you have any skeletons in your closet?

Garou: You mean literally or figuratively?

Y/N: Honestly, the fact that I have to specify...

-

Sonic: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds.

Y/N: FORTY-FIVE SECONDS?!?

Sonic: No! Four to five seconds!

Y/N: Too late!!!

-

Y/N: Look. I may not be a saint, but it's not like I’ve killed anybody. I’m not an arsonist. I’ve never found a wallet outside of an IHOP and thought about returning it but saw the owner lived out of state so just took the cash and dropped the wallet back on the ground. Metal bat: Okay, that's really specific, and that makes me think that you definitely did do that

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Genos: This is such a bad idea. Y/N: Then why are you coming along? Genos: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

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Y/N, struggling to keep upright in their 1-inch heels: Yeah, I-I don’t really think heels are for me Tatsumaki, pointing at them and walking flawlessly in sparkly golden 6 inch heels: WEAK.

-

Y/N: Three words. Say them and I'm yours.

Garou: Three words. Y/N: …

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Y/N: You saved me. I owe you my life. Genos: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed.

-

Y/N: I can’t believe you live nearby, and you won’t let anyone crash at your place.

King: You people already know too much about me.

Saitama: I know exactly three facts about you, and one of them is that you won’t let any of us crash at your place.

-

Saitama: HELP! I TOLD GENOS I’D COOK DINNER TONIGHT BUT I CAN’T COOK! Y/N, pouring milk directly into the cereal bag: And you thought I could help?

205 notes • Posted 2021-04-24 14:16:16 GMT

#4

Saiki K x reader Incorrect quotes

Unfortunately I have re-used one or more but anyway Yay

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Y/N: Name one time I haven’t acted professional Saiki: You’re holding a juice box right now Y/N: It’s to stop me from spilling my juice.

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Y/N: You're smiling, did something good happen? Saiki: I can't smile just because I feel like it? Aren: Nendo tripped and fell in the parking lot.

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Saiko: Can you please be serious for five minutes? Y/N: My record is four, but I think I can do it.

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Y/N: You love me, right, Kaido? Kaido: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

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Y/N: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed Something on the street and you just didn’t Notice It? Aiura: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!! Y/N: Y’know what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration.

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Kaido, trying to ask Y/N out: Would you like to stay for dinner? Kaido‘s siblings: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

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*The squad is having dinner together* Y/N: Kaido, can you pass the salt? Kaido: *Throws Saiki across the table*

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Aiura: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Aren: I'm a knife. Y/N, from across the room: He’s the little spoon.

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Kaido: Aren, I'm sad. Aren: *Holds out arms for a hug* It’s going to be okay. Y/N: Saiki, I'm sad. Saiki, nodding: mood.

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Saiki: Isn’t it weird that we pay money to see other people? Kaido: Plane tickets? Aren: Concert tickets? Y/N: Prostitution? Saiki, holding their broken frames: Glasses.

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Saiki: Nothing in life is free. Aiura: Love is free! Kaido: Adventure is free. Aren: Knowledge is free. Y/N: Everything is free if you take it without paying.

220 notes • Posted 2021-04-25 23:01:00 GMT

#3

Embarrassing things Class 1-A has done

Warning: my bad sense of humor, OOC behavior

Boys:

Izuku Midoriya: Walked into a pole while in a daze.

Bakugo Katsuki: Had literal explosive diarrhea.

Shoto Todoroki: All the dishes were dirty and he wanted to cook something so he tried to use his fire quirk and almost burnt his house down.

Ejiro Kirishima: Accidently dyed his hair pink once.

Denki Kaminari: Stuck his dick in a hotpocket. Just once though.

Fumikage Tokoyami: Wrote poetry of his middle school class and it got leaked.

Hanta Sero: Called a girl mommy and she ghosted him.

Aoyama Yuga: Put glitter in his food by mistake.

Tenya Iida: Got scammed on Animal Jam as a kid.

Girls:

Momo Yaoyorozu: Got really into a Gacha game and blew a bunch of money on it.

Mina Ashido: Sneezed and melted a door handle.

Kyouka Jirou: Opened a door really aggressively and ended up hitting her crush in the face.

Tsuyu Asui: Someone asked who she was and she wanted to say "I'm Froppy" and "My name is Froppy" so she ended up saying "I moppy"

Ochako Uraraka: Hit a satellite with something once.

Toru Hagakure: Forgot to tell her parents that her hero costume is literally just her being naked.

231 notes • Posted 2021-11-28 16:34:42 GMT

#2

Genos and Saitama and how they would act with a crush:

Request: Hi can I request how Genos, Saitama and mumen rider act around their crushes and how they ask them out? - Anonymous

A/N: Unfortunately I don't write for Mumen Rider, but I will write for Saitama and Genos.

Also sorry it took forever and is so short.

Word count: 338

Warnings: Brief mention of death

Gender-neutral reader

Saitama:

I feel like he wouldn’t act differently from when he was just your friend.

He probably wouldn't recognize that he had a crush on someone.

He realized his feelings when you guys were doing something domestic or wholesome, ie. cooking, laundry, or grocery shopping.

After he realizes he has a crush he would start to show off around them.

He wouldn't be all that bashful around them, but he would be more affectionate mainly using complements to do so.

He would absolutely start to show off around you after a while.

He’d also be extra worried about monsters hurting you, though he won’t show it.

I feel like he wouldn’t make a big deal out of confessing.

It most likely happened when you two were doing something mundane or domestic, like cooking, and he just blurted it out.

You had to do a double-take to make sure he wasn't joking.

Genos:

You probably knew him before the incident/ or you were friends with Saitama

100% didn't know what he was feeling at first.

He would feel butterflies in his (non-existent) stomach, thinking about you constantly, not being able to stop staring at you.

He has no idea what he’s feeling and thinks his system has a bug.

He went to his master to ask about what he was feeling, unfortunately, Saitama wasn’t all that helpful so he went to Dr. Kuseno instead.

Thanks to that he finally realized he was in love with you ❤️

Once he comes to terms with his feelings, he would be even more protective than Saitama.

He really just doesn’t want to lose you like he lost his family.

He probably wouldn’t know how to go about confessing.

Probably binged a ton of cheesy romance movies and books to try and figure out how he should go about it.

After a month or so after he realized he loved he nervously asked you if you wanted to go get coffee.

See the full post

272 notes • Posted 2021-08-21 17:37:35 GMT

#1

Demon Slayer x reader incorrect quotes

Prompts are not mine got them here. ^(＾ｖ＾)^

.

Zenitsu: Come on, I wasn’t that drunk last night. Tanjiro: You were flirting with Y/N.

Zenitsu: So what? They're my partner. Tanjiro: You asked them if they were single. Zenitsu:… Tanjiro: And then you cried when they said they weren't.

.

*Y/N and Tanjiro are doing something absurdly dangerous* Y/N: I think Houdini did something like this once! Why, if I recall correctly, he was out of the hospital in no time! Tanjiro, deadpan: Well that's encouraging.

.

Inosuke: What’s up guys? I’m back. Y/N or Tanjiro: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Inosuke: Death is a social construct.

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Demon! Y/N: I’m going to take you out Zenitsu: great, it’s a date! Demon! Y/N: I meant that as a threat. Zenitsu: See you at five!

.

Shinobu, addressing the squad: And if you have any suggestions feel free to put them in the suggestion box. Y/N: But – that’s just a trash can. Shinobu: It sure is!

.

Inosuke: You're right. Y/N: That's... That's an unusual phrase for you. Did you just learn it?

.

Y/N, who knew him when he was human: Remember when you didn't try to solve all your problems with attempted murder? Muzan: Stop romanticizing the past.

.

Y/N: petition to remove the 'd' from Wednesday Inosuke: Wednesay Y/N: Not what I had in mind, but I'm flexible

.

Y/N: This is a mistake Rengoku, enthusiastically: A mistake we're going to laugh about one day! Y/N: But not today Rengoku, still enthusiastic: Oh, no. Today's going to be a mess

.

Inosuke: Change is inedible.

Y/N: don’t you mean inevitable?

Inosuke, spitting out coins: No.

.

Rengoku: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine! Y/N: How can you still say that? Rengoku: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

.

Tanjiro: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Y/N: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Tanjiro: Absolutely not.

.

See the full post

404 notes • Posted 2021-04-24 23:00:40 GMT

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[zombiesun]

wait ur dad post is throwing me off, I want to be on board for these vibes but I can't tell if it's satire. god told him to be homo? near children sacrifice? this definitely explains a lot of ur mind and way of speaking and perceiving the world. did you have fun with ur dad or was this a way of putting a fun twist on a traumatic time? bc I can relate to that

this is probably the funniest ask I’ve ever gotten and exactly why I overshare on the internet. it’s not satire! my dad is really just like that! g-d did not tell him to be a homo (my father is very homophobic in a very righteous, g-d fearing way) but his relationship with g-d is very homoerotic. it’s not a joke or performance for him, he really does love his g-d more than anything or anyone else on the earth and he would do anything he felt “called” to do which was a rather unstable element in my childhood. however, there is a sense of romance between him and his terrifying deity and I think that devotion and passion is something that scared me a lot growing up but also something I see streaks of in my own faith practices. I’ve always had a very corrupted idea of faith/love before and seen them both as things that ultimately degrade/distort a person because the best parts of my dad were not his faith but it was unfortunately the biggest and most dominant part of him.

and he did tell us he would sacrifice us (lol, we were making sandwiches for lunch and I asked him jokingly and he responded with a severity I really will never forget) and since my family homeschooled us a lot of his religious abuse was ultimately never documented/held accountable so he could really get away with running his own, tiny, horrific religious cult consisting of my mother, me, and my three siblings. it was a really traumatic way to grow up. his faith was so unorthodox that we would keep on changing churches because of none of them matched his extreme, insane devotion and understanding of the bible. I talk about the story a lot where he woke us up at three am because g-d gave him a vision that we were all going to hell if he didn’t dunk us in water to “seal our entry to heaven” because it was really traumatic and vivid in my mind and one of the many instances of  realizing “oh, my father is a really unwell man and there’s no one who is ever going to stop him” as a child. it was a really difficult way to grow up and the source of a lot of my anger against christianity as a faith and my fascination and knowledge on cults and how they function. a cult can sometimes be a family lead by an insane, unchecked, deeply unwell man and his complacent wife and four children who don’t go to school and aren’t allowed to leave the house. there was a period where my mom hand sewed all of our clothes because modern clothing was too immodest and we had to look different then other people. my childhood was really unorthodox and it was also squarely because of his idea of how people should act/exist and it being very different from mainstream society. (it was very captain fantastic sans the wilderness survival and replaced with him wanting us to be college athletes and making us train five days out of the week for it for the majority of my childhood/high school years.) 

“this definitely explains a lot of ur mind and way of speaking and perceiving the world. did you have fun with ur dad or was this a way of putting a fun twist on a traumatic time?” anon I am telling this to my therapist verbatim because it’s so funny and something I would write in my own journal. if you wanted to tell me why exactly it explains my mind/way of speaking/perceiving the world I would absolutely be fascinated to hear it. 

I did have fun with my dad though. He’s a funny, jovial, spirit of a child sort of man. A lot of my childhood was fun in a weird way, we had a six foot basketball hoop in our living room and bags of plastic balls to host neighborhood ball fights. He collects movies and since we didn’t have cable/internet for most of my childhood he would either pirate or buy movies for us to stimulate the feeling of Saturday cartoons. He’s eccentric and passionate, he doesn’t fit in with other people so in many ways he encouraged me to exist in my own strange way. He thinks I’m funny and smart, he always tells me that he loves me and he gives good hugs and there’s something comforting in that. I did hate him for most of my life though for very good reason. He’s the source of a lot of my issues with boundaries/forming healthy relationships because he was emotionally immature in a way that required me to parent/apologize for his actions at a really young age. I also had to deprogram my siblings after I escaped but three of the four of us still live with him despite my best efforts. 

That was the most oversharing about my family I have ever done on this app lmao. It was a fun twist, because like, it’s funny now because I haven’t had to live with him for over five years and he can’t control my life anymore but also I think if I took it seriously again it would probably send me back like, five years worth of healing you know? 

[istanhooman]

I'm going to be making head canons and the like on these characters by @yesimahooman

Totallyahooman, the owner of these characters, said I should make a post about her characters so you all know what you're getting into hehe. They're all cats btw, and I'm on my phone so there's going to be mistakes. Most likely.

Apparently these characters are called the "meme team" because Totally made four of them (Toby, Oliver, Gingerale, and Milo) for an animation meme and fell in love. They didn't even have names until like a month later ig lmao

Toby: He's really friendly, but unlike Two-Tone understands boundaries - even if he's a little hyper and annoying. Toby will happily drop anything for his friends. Basically the generic "good guy" Character (But Totally says he had an edgy phase in a cat's version of teen years). He has three little sisters, who always insisted on playing with him, which didn't work well with his edgy phase. Totally told me he doesn't have a father, but he has a mother that looks a lot like him and she's the sweetest darling ever. Toby's the peach-ish, brown and white one.

Two-Tone: Speaking of Two-Tone, the wittle baby man omg I love him. Totally said he was originally made for the weird animation memes, because she had the nice one, the anxious one, the dad-friend, the angry one and the murderer. And yeah, you can use an edgy killer for weird/edgy memes, but she wanted WEIRD. And so Two-tone was made. But he apparently evolved into a really sweet cat who just doesn't understand how to communicate with people. He's been friends with Toby since childhood (kittenhood?) and seemingly came from nowhere. No parents at all. Toby's family basically adopted him (though I kinda ship them???)

Oliver: Anxious boyo. He's the blue one with big worried eyes. I also love him, he's so adorable. Anyway- Oliver's worrying about everything, constantly. He's also really easy to pick on because he'd be too scared to defend himself. Actually, Cinder tries killing him the most out of the team, which forces Gingerale to protect the bb. Totally told me that when she draws the two, she can't help but draw Oliver huddling behind Gingerale for protection and I live for that. She also said that he was an only child, so he learned how to be by himself and is still getting used to actually being around other cats. She said that Oliver's mom is also really sweet, but she was too soft and didn't force Oliver into anything he was uncomfy with (which were simple fears like the dark or strangers) and so he never got that exposure that's needed to NOT be a crying mess.

Gingerale: The ginger cat. He's a very grumpy boy and hates all things fun. Actually that's not true, but he's very tsundere. He'll bully his friends, but as soon as someone does it, he's going OFF on them. He somehow always catches Cinder when she's trying to kill the team, too which would he so much fun to see. Totally said Gingerale's used to being ignored because he was one of the middle kittens of TWELVE. YOU CAN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP RNAKKD. kinda sad to imagine tho, poor bby.

Cinder: Finally, the one I kept mentioning. The gray and white gorl. To explain her murderous ways, Totally gave me a run down: As a kitten, Cinder was severely bullied by three older ones. Their mothers didn't do anything to stop it, and Cinder's own mother was too deep in self-pity due to her mate leaving her. All because he didn't want kittens :(. So, Cinder didn't get anyone to defend her from these bullies. One night, Cinder's mom stands up and straight up leaves. Totally gave a small, sad detail of "So, wondering where her mom was going, Cinder followed after her. But Cinder's mom turns only to push the kitten away, giving her an angry glare before leaving for good. Cinder's never seen her again." And i- that's so depressing. Anyway, Cinder finally snapped and killed one of the kittens bullying her. Finally the mothers cared, but only for their own. They exiled Cinder from the area, and Cinder complied. But she never forgot how nice it felt to finally have some power and since then, she's just kinda- killed cats. Totally finished it with "Cinder found the meme team and thought they'd be easy, but Gingerale's a good match against her. So... She's just for comedy's sake now I guess". That was long, sorry.

Milo: Big boi. Big soft boi. I really like him, but also I couldn't help but think about Milo from Pokemon Sword and Shield. I told Totally this and she went "Yeah, I made him before the game was officially out and before I played it. I had no idea" And I'll just accept her word. He's cute tho, the gray tabby. He's bigger than his friends and is super fatherly to them, even though he's around their age. Always making sure Oliver isn't so scared, Two-Tone and Toby are out of trouble, Gingerale actually socializes and the twins are recognized more. Very sweet.

Aidan: Speaking of the twins, they're the last two I need to tell you about! First is Aidan. He's the one with sunglasses. And also the spikier fur, and he's the boy. I like him because he thinks he's really cool and popular, but he's not. In fact Totally always forgets the twins exist. She's getting better at it, she says. She told me that Aidan is that one "I'm so cool" character who's calm and collected usually, but if a girl (or boy, she claims their sexualities are never specified and up to interpretations for the creativity) flirted with him, he'd DIE. I need to make hcs on this.

Nadia: The pretty girl. Basically it. She's really nice and understanding, but always finds a way to insult her brother casually. The twins have always been there for each other, but at the end of the day they're siblings. They're going to argue with each other. In fact, Totally said she likes to take a bit from her own siblings and say things like "Oh yeah, and Nadia one day would be all 'Aidan, brother, listen to me. I love you, but you're ugly. No girl would like you' And Aidan turns to his sister, slightly pulls down the sunglasses that somehow stay on his face and glances at her up and down before sighing, 'But Nadia, you're forgetting. You look just like me, but curly. You're just as ugly as I am, and you won't find love either.' Or smth like that. Just the casual insulting chaos that is siblings".

EDIT: Totally told me she updated character sheets and said I should replace the old ones! So most of these aren't old now

[pundergrad]

*dial-up noises as I try to remember what I was about to post*

*discards post, scrolls back up dash a little to trigger brain to Remember using context*

*restarts post*

This is gonna be a vent-y, and I don't know how to insert a cut on mobile posts.

It's so strange to try and accept that people don't find me annoying. My whole life, I've been the Quiet One, the Weird One, because I often felt like what I had to say didn't matter. That there was always someone who knew Better, or knew More than I did, so I should just be quiet and listen.

Also, I'm the youngest of four kids, so of course I grew up with the privilege of being the baby in the family. I was aware that my siblings disliked that part of the family dynamic, and ever since I started high school I'd tried to give them space, to cool off on being the Odd kid around them. Turns out, me trying to act all Cool and Normal was probably partly responsible for this weird distance I feel from all of them. But I feel like this distance is only coming from me; they seem, for the most part, Normal.

I wound up relying on my friends to be happy, and for a long time I forgot how to Be with my closest sibling. We went our separate ways, socially, even though we're still under the same roof. It didn't help that our interests and personalities strayed even further apart. Recently, the two of us have taken little steps to reach out to each other, to try and find our way back. I've found that after all these years, we still share most of our sense of humour, and agree on issues like mental health and how our parents messed us up a little, despite having good intentions.

All this to say, I've never really known how to express difficult feelings. I only ever seem capable of doing so after a long and tiring battle to repress these feelings, which usually surface in one way or another. I was easily frustrated as a child, and would lash out because that's what I observed as being a suitable reaction. Then my sense of empathy grew as I did, and I turned those frustrations on myself.

Questions like, "Why am I so useless?" "Why can't I do this like everyone else?" and thoughts like "This is my fault" and "I should deal with this on my own" and "I don't need to upset others with my issues" became my internal monologue for these feelings. After all, my parents seemed incapable of having mature conversations about feelings; that was obvious from the way they treated my siblings' issues. They would treat every minor slight as if any of my siblings 'weren't thinking (about consequences)', so I trained myself to only ever think of how my actions affected others. I would do anything to try and always keep others happy. It seemed like that was the only way to be Good. To show I was Smart, and that I Cared.

This last week has been a rollercoaster, but I'm starting to realise that's not true at all. Of course we should try to spread happiness to others, but not at the expense of ourselves. I can still be Good, and Smart, and Caring, when I express to others what I Care about even if it hurts. But after so long trying to go unnoticed, and trying to lessen other people's worries about me, I realise I've stopped acting like I have any feelings at all. It's no wonder that my pre-covid social hangouts felt so stilted and exhausting. I was spending all my time Thinking when I should have just let myself Feel, let myself Be.

I've spent my entire self-aware life trying to get people to Like me, to Tolerate me, because on the rare occasion that I said something strange, the damage felt irreversible. I knew I was Weird. All that time, I struggled to believe that people might like Me. So I tried to be Funny, Silly - I was always around to Listen to other's feelings and Sympathise. I know now that not allowing myself that same relief was my issue all along.

So I feel annoying when I ask my friends questions about homework, vent my annoyance with some small issue, or spam dms with jokes or memes I find funny. But I'm trying to be better about handling those feelings. Every little interaction that puts a little bit of Me into their lives isn't going to make them upset with me. It just lets them know how I'm feeling, and then they can relate to me as a person rather than some stoic entity because everyone has feelings, and we all want to feel understood.

TLDR;

[cartoons-n-cake]

A Happy Siblings Day Tribute Post

Having Siblings Be Like:

- "I would die for you."

"Then perish. (But also same)"

- "Stop stealing my clothes!"

*Later*

"Hey can I steal your clothes?"

- "Get off of me!"

*Anyone asks you to do something*

"I can't they're sitting on me.

(Don't get off!)"

- "Did you ask Mom/Dad?"

"No, cause it's your turn to ask!"

OR

- "I'll go ask Mom, you go ask Dad,

and we'll go with whoever says

yes."

- Random person: "(Sibling name) is

so nice/quiet!"

Me, laughing hysterically: "That's

cause you don't live with them

buddy."

- *Sibling enthusiastically sharing

something*

Someone else: "That's great, no

one cares."

*Later*

Same person: "Why does no one care

about my stuff?!"

- The instinct for group survival:

"Careful (family member name) is

in a bad mood."

- *Watching old home videos*

"Was I really that obnoxious?"

Sibling #1: "YES, you were."

Sibling #2: "Were?!"

- "You're not the boss of me!!"

Bonus points if followed up with:

"Mom left me in charge so I am for

right now!"

- "This isn't even funny, what are

we laughing at?"

*Continues giggling at nothing

until blue in the face* (Usually

takes place on long road trips or

other situations equally annoying

for parents)

- "Is this your toothbrush or mine?"

*Shrugs* "Just pick one."

- Older sibling: "This show is so

stupid, why are you watching it?"

*Will continue to sit and watch

said show over their shoulders

every time, and will deny watching

or liking it every time*

- I'm bored and I'm going to make it your

problem.

- You have the weirdest nicknames, insults

and terms of endearment for each other

(dingus, punk, gremlin, dingledutz, etc)

- There is nobody in you life you insult more,

BUT you are the only ones allowed to insult

each other. If anyone else does, there will

be blood.

- Ratting each other out for snitching snacks

but also using the intel they gathered to

snitch yourself

Related: the first rule of snitching, it's ok

to snitch the snacks if somebody else does

it first. An open bag is free game.

- Weird and generally indistinguishable

noises are common and universally

understood communication.

- Bodily functions have never been more

funny

- Mockery never dies. Sorry.

- And neither do those tiny grudges.

- Using babysitting as an excuse to not have

to be social

- That's my seat/spoon/umbrella/dusting

rag, touch it and you die.

- The "stop copying me" wars, usually

resulting in the copied trying to get the

copier to insult themselves ("ahwah tagoo

siam" anyone?)

- Everyone goes through that phase where

they love one movie and won't watch

anything else. And everyone else is so sick

of that movie by the end.

- This is a big kid movie

- Either everyone goes to bed, or no one

does

The Rules of Food Fairness:

- You Split I Choose being the only way to

agree on breaking something in half

- Mutually beneficial food trades (my sister

gave me the peanuts from her trail mix and

she got all my raisins)

- Mom eventually being so fed up, she now

weighs out everything on the kitchen scale

so no one can complain someone got more

- If your older sibling had a bad/different

taste in clothes, you're cursed. And as the

youngest, you don't even know what your

fashion preferences are, just so long as it's

new

- The progression of gift giving: you start

with giving some cardboard creation/

drawing/card, then you give candy, then

books/movies you know they like, then you

peak at novelty gifts that are funny but

strangely meaningful

- One sibling will let the couple of bucks you

owe them slide, another will never let you

forget that quarter you borrowed back in

third grade

- Not knowing how to handle the first time

your sibling is crying because of genuine

emotional pain, because this wasn't pain

you caused and you can't just apologize

- You all read stories the same way, with the

same tone and inflections. And if a sibling

reads a book out loud to you, their voices

will always be how you hear the characters

in your head.

- The Great November 1st Candy Barter

(swapping candy trying to get rid of

dum dums and hoping to con someone out

of their butterfingers)

- There's always the one with the big crazy

ideas. Everyone else is "I'm just along for

the ride" or "I just live here."

- Chore math. Finding the exact division of

the chores that ensures maximum fairness

- There are four toilets in this house and

every single one is occupied! And I need to

go!!

- You will walk in on someone naked/semi

dressed. It's inevitable.

- Most of your self defense training comes

from wrestling each other

- Hiding behind doors and around corners

trying to get someone to jump

- The silent treatment and the dreaded

pronouncement of "I'm never talking to you

again?" Never lasts more than two hours.

You just can't not talk to each other, for

better or for worse.

Basically you drive each other nuts, but you're each other's kind of nuts. And life sure would be boring without them!

@cellochicita

[skyblue-369]

When it rains, flowers bloom

A little disclaimer before starting: I know what you're thinking. I know it doesn't look so good. I'm not an artist (or a writer lmao), I just wanted to give a general idea of how I designed the character. Remember! Criticism is acceptable, just be polite.

(I'd like to put a "read more" link on the tunblr app but I can't. If anyone reading this knows how, I'll appreciate your help.)

Plus, bonus gif at the end of the post ⬇️

Word count: 1341

"Be one of you? A member of your superhero team or something?" asked the blonde girl, finally sitting on a cut tree trunk, because at the moment all of her energy had to be switched from her limbs to her thoughts. In her mindset it was already confusing that someone had broken her daily routine. Surely accidents happened before, like the time some ravens started chasing her because her hair looked like a nest, or the time she believed covering in mud was the perfect idea to become invisible at night and almost got caught. As i said, accidents happened, but never on this level.

Moreover, those six kids were offering her to change life nonchalantly, and she didn't know if she had the strenght to do it, not again. Although living for three years in a cave all by yourself can make you crave some company, Maria wasn't sure if becoming a superhero was the right path to take. It sounded weird in her head.

<p/>"I'd prefer to use the term family."

Luckily, Ben giggled at the comment and added a clarification that would make her change point of view. "Family" was the magic word because, at the end, wasn't it everything she ever wanted?

"Wait, so they are brothers? How? Oh wait, adoption...An orphan that doesn't know siblings don't always look the same. How ironic."

Just the idea of a family, of a mum, a dad, and brothers and sisters that couldn't be afraid or jealous of her was more than tempting.

She could tolerate to use her powers more often if it meant that her reward was love.

However, the sparkle in her eyes was blown away very soon. It seemed clear that the Hargreeves had different opinions on the matter.

For example Diego, who was standing far from her until now, snapped and pointed his finger so sharply against the girl that he could almost stab her. Maybe because he was literally holding a knife in said hand.

"Wait! Wait! Wait! Not everybody agreed on this! We're already full of problems, don't you think? We don't need to add another weird kid to the list."

"He's saying that as if he wasn't one." Maria mumbled glancing at the only other girl in the room. She would rather speak Italian in order not to be understood, but there she believed she was in good faith because she wasn't mocking, just explaining her misunderstanding to Allison.

"Stop behaving like a jerk, Diego." Three caught the signal and replied, while getting off the table to protect the blondie, almost covering her view. Obviously One had to join the discussion. In fact, as Number Seven will explain to her the next day in the comfy living room of the mansion, Two's rage acts like a tornado. It is sudden and aggressive and destroys everything around it, especially Luther's patience. Moreover, It looked like One shared the same brain as his sister because they tend to agree on anything, but this time Luther's way of laying out words only made her facepalm.

"I don't know you, but for all of my childhood I had been wondering if other people with our kind of abilities even existed. Now that we found one, the least we can do is report her to Father."

"Are you listening to yourself, Luther? What childhood? If Father lays his hands on her, he'll make her suffer as he did with us, treating her like some sort of machine. We're doing her a favour."

The air was becoming thicker, both metaphorically and literally. The cave already had a little airflow owing to the fact that the entrance had to be hidden by two doors, which were a layer of plants and a sheet of iron.

Maria felt her breath even heavier. It was the first conversation when she wasn't just staring from afar since a long time. She wasn't used to talking, let alone arguing. She wanted to light the mood but didn't know how, and tried to find advice in Ben's eyes, still in contact with hers.

"Don't want to interrupt you guys or something, but shouldn't we be asking her? Anyway honey, how can you not get your boobs stuck into this thing? Tell me your secret!"

Who could tell that the miracle could reside in the only person who didn't speak a single syllable in the whole fight, if we count that Five was muttering to himself!

That kind soul of Klaus was laying on his stomach on the girl's floating bed, that wasn't so practical to sleep in. What would you expect from a net, "purchased" by some gentle fishermen, attached to the roof of the cave and decorated with some pillows?

In fact, the boy was having fun tracing the outline of its holes, while gazing at Maria through one of them.

The poor girl was trying to cover her almost flat chest with her arms, her blush fading into the orange light of the candles. Everybody seemed to empathize with her embarassment and fell into silence for a second.

"Not that she can really choose, Klaus. Tell me, how long did you think you could live like this?" Five was too serious to get distracted from his brother's nonsense and actually heard his only logical sentence.

"Scostumato (Rude)! You have no idea how many things I had to steal just to give some colour to this room!" finally Maria managed to talk back and wanted to approach that old-young man. On the other side, Five's eyes were moving around so fast to analyze every piece of furniture, but could never stop to look at the blondie.

That's the change of subject that the "rescue team" needed to shot the final question.

"So what do you say? Wanna come?" almost sang Ben to sound more convincing, causing Four to laugh a little.

Maria told them without any frills how amazing it would have been to join them.

"I'd like to, but I respect every opinion, even Diego's..." these were her words.

They didn't show the complete truth, she was just being polite.

"Don't listen to him, he's always so grumpy." Allison tried to calm her down, while glancing at Number Two, who was already stepping outside.

"I'm going. Reach me when you finish this puppet show." he growled, right before putting in act his dramatic exit.

He was just moving the door when his hand was caught by Maria's.

"Where do you think you're going? We're deep in the forest, you'd get lost for sure." she gave him a lovable smile, mixed of concern and satisfaction, which made Diego freeze subtly. He felt trapped by some memories.

This allowed the girl to pass him, make a little turn and march backwards to see if everything was at its place.

"You have to go to the main road, right? Let me guide you myself! And can the last one who comes out turn the candles off, please? We don't want to start a fire."

One at a time, they all passed around the little lake avoiding to step into the water.

The only exception was for Klaus, who didn't care about the waterfall when he ran to the others. Turning off the lights didn't take a lot, he was just stealing a jar full of suspicious herbs.

"So, what's the verdict, my partner in crime?" he asked, hugging Ben from behind.

"I'll take it as a yes..."

"Welcome to our dysfunctional family, honey!" he shouted, as on the other side of the line the blonde girl crawled a little on herself, putting her arms around her waist. A golden tear fell straight to the ground, giving birth to a daisy.

She was leaving that place as if she just slept there for a night. She's never had a connection with it, really. The only thing that attracted her was the beauty of nature, which could be found everywhere. And then, all the good memories she wanted to keep were already treasured in her blue t-shirt.

Preparing to get childhood traumas with the Hargreeves be like:

(Kiernan Shipka looks so cute in this I can't)

[veterveter]

Hey hey, it's gay bike anon again! I'm more than honoured to get my own tag!!! I definitely would like to keep talking to you <3 And only love for you too <3

I'll gladly wait for your response to my ask (or asks??? we'll see one day ehehehe)! I feel you, when people cite some of my text messages from a few months (or more) ago I'm often like "nope, nah-ah, that's not me, you're wrong". Same for older essays, I often can't believe I wrote those. And even with things I wrote late at night a few weeks ago, sometimes I'm like "I wrote that? That monstrosity??? Okay, I need more sleep before writing". (My capacity of writing in correct English grammar usually goes to sleep before I do, same goes for varied word choice). But sometimes I'll see this project I've worked on YEARS ago and exactly recognize the pieces I wrote? Since the ask would be fairly recent, I suppose I would recognise my writing style and word choice and since I didn't wrote it whilst sleep deprived (I hope??) I'm setting my chances of recognising it pretty high. But we'll see one day, the mystery will marinate for a while... [I am rereading this in the daytime, and this is EXACTLY what I meant, at night I make the weirdest word choices?? I’m definitely not changing it though because I might find it kinda funny]

I snorted so hard about the way you talked about your almost-name, I'm giggling here like crazy. Apparently my name means something alike 'dedicated to God', but my parents aren't really believers, so gotta love that. The meaning of my sibling's name is 'summer', but I'm the one born in the summer, whilst my sibling is born in autumn, oops. Guess my parents never checked one of those sites/ books where you can find the meaning of a name hahaha.

I love how my ask was so weird and chaotic that you sent a screenshot to a friend. I LOVE that she had no idea what was going on. Then again, I watched the semis (obviously hahaha) but I had no idea what was going on either... But honestly it was peak Dutch culture, water and bicycles, I would just add an ode to 'hagelslag' and voila, the entirety of Dutch culture summed up... [Also: if you don't know: 'hagelslag' is just sprinkles which we eat on bread, yes, on bread, we do not not only eat sprinkles as on cake or on donuts, like in any other country, no, we put it on bread. It's actually a really popular sandwich topping here. My ultimate favourites are the chocolate ones, but you also have them in several fruity flavours (like forest fruit) and anise flavour.] Thank you, perfect chaotic energy is an ultimate goal I strive towards *bows like I'm Victorian royalty or something*

You're absolutely right, it went EXACTLY like that. Specifically, I would be studying for my exams, explaining topics to myself like I always do, so I'd tell myself "The six possible origins of economies of scope are indivisibility, specialisation, marketing, research and development, GUESS WHAT.. SUBWAY DRIVER GANDÍA... ehhh... what was I doing again??" OR: "one of the most detailed and most used models of responsive regulation is Brathwaite's piramid. His enforcement piramid visually shows, nope not important, SUBWAY DRIVER GANDÍAAAAAA" And I'd laugh, continue explaining theories and calculations to myself until my focus started lessening again and my thoughts would wander off again. I am VERY glad I'm not the only one who thinks about it from time to time, and I'm glad you're not suing me for any mental harm yet.

Yess, those pictures I saw from Promising Young Woman look so beautiful and aesthetic!! I'll probably watch it somewhere after the 16th, because I'll most likely have finished my last exams by then. I'll tell you what I thought about it! Thank you SO SO SO much for all the luck wishes!!!! I had an exam last Friday and I absolutely rewarded myself, because it went better than I expected and I passed an earlier exam and a paper too! I didn't buy myself a tricorne (yet), but I did buy funko pops (my inner economist said it was 100% rational because it was a really good deal hahaha). I still have two exams to go, so I could always buy a tricorne for finishing either of those, OR. EVEN BETTER. I'll ask my parents (or my grandparents) for one for my birthday. I mean, that would be hilarious. They'd be so confused. They've never seen S3 and S4 of LCDP so they'll have no idea, even if I tried to explain it. It would be so incredibly funny (and really really weird for them), I am laughing like crazy just at the thought of it.

I've never been in Finland before, but those temperatures do not sound legal indeed. I have no knowledge of Finnish law, but maybe article 3 of the European Convention on Human Rights, the prohibition of torture, would work? If I was the judge I’d 100% agree, so we should all sue the weather sksksks. I'm glad to have brought you rain though (and that I apparently possess the power to do so - magic weather controlling pirate seems like a nice enough job to me)!!! I hope the temperature has become at least somewhat lower. You're right, climate change should just... stop... right away. The weather is pretty weird here, right now: one day it will be super sunny and (at least) around 27 degrees and almost melting away, and the other day it will be raining and I'll be wearing my warmest sweater. Like, why the extremes??

I love that I am able to make you lose your coherent thoughts (that's probably why we have one brain energy about Underwater, because I, too, have the ability to make myself lose my coherent thoughts). I'm glad for your faith in my impersonation of Martín. I even started Duolingo Spanish again, and now know the phrase, "Yo bebo leche" (I drink milk) which obviously would be very important to him. Now I'll just need an Argentinian accent to go with it. Leaning menacingly on a cane would be GREAT, I love the idea. I'll open job applications for a Denver. Maybe my cat could help me, she, much like Denver, is super loud and she is super aggressive towards other cats, so there is potential there. And guiding dogs and even tiny guiding horses exist, why not a guiding cat?

I always assumed I would follow a more... you know… legal... career path, maybe even literally a career in law. But, my accounting professor also showed us how to manipulate financial statements ("so you can notice when people are doing this", uh-huh sure, sure that’s why) and another professor of mine also said that a criminal career sometimes could be the more rational, rewarding choice over a legally acceptable career. So, I suppose I should not be surprised by this sudden change of career plans. I should have seen this coming. And what better way to be able to avoid the laws than by knowing exactly what they are and how far you can go. And if that plan doesn’t work out, the books of law I have (they’re combined in two huge hardcover bundles) are really heavy and you could probably harm someone with them if you hit hard enough… Well, I suppose you can even leave “hard” away, just by hitting someone softly with those books you can bring serious harm to them… Ah, and like that one professor would say: in this scenario it would be a rational choice to become a pirate instead of a privateer. Oh dear, not Arturito :/ Mutiny would seem like a good option, I’ll take over the ship and become Palermo the Pirate. Sounds much and much better than “Arturo the Pirate”, since that isn’t an alliteration, sooo mutiny is reasonable even for that reason. And then there’s the fact that it’s Arturo, I mean, that says enough.

YOU LOVE UNDERWATER TOO????!!!! I completely forgot that you posted that! It seems we do indeed already have one shared braincell energy my friend <3

Last week has been pretty good (except for having to make a test at 9:30, what a godless time, I’m usually barely awake by then ehehehe), I think I aced the test I had, got back some good grades and finally got my first Covid vaccination (and only shortly slight dizziness as a side effect, so that's pretty great). And thanks so much!!! For now I’m safe from Gandía, but somewhere in mid-July I’ll have to take an exam on campus, so I’ll might be able to bring out my inner Palermo then.

How was your week? If the weather is still unkind to you (well, also if the weather *is* kind to you), treat yourself to your favourite ice cream and a break every now and then <3 Do you already have holidays or hasn’t your academical year ended yet?

You’re also right - this is conversation and we’re friends now <3 And I absolutely do like cookies! I would say my favourites are american cookies (though stroopwafels are reaally good as well) but honestly there are only a few kinds of cookies that I don’t love that much. And anything with chocolate in it is GREAT. I do also love apples and bananas, though grapes (which I just had) are even better! What’s your favourite kind of cookie?

Also, I know I have been giving you so many prompts already, but I saw this one in that list you reblogged and it gave me so much Berlermo energy: you live in an apartment with your best friend. the two of you always fall asleep in each other's arms, but one day, your friend isn't there. they've fallen in love with someone else. it's your other best friend, who recently moved in with you. and that's when you realize, that those nights you spent together, weren't so platonic after all. I would love it if you’d write it, but if you decide not to that’s absolutely fine too, no worries <3

By the way, I was going to post this quite a bit earlier, but my laptop (unlike me) decided yesterday night, when I was finishing writing this, that it was time to sleep, so I had to quickly dump this whole rant in Google Docs (it’s almost two and a half pages what the heck) and I was busy all day so I only was able to upload it just now. I swear I can ractually espond faster than after a week :) Have a lovely evening, much love from the gay bike country <3

Heeeeeeey you are back!!! How happy am I to see my favouritest gay bike anon return to my inbox!!! 💕 [Author's note: You can tell I started this reply right away because you've sent me three or four asks since this one and one can tell you are indeed back hahaha]

Yeeeeeees this is how one makes friends!! You know, I was just thinking the other night of how "gay bike anon" shortens to GBA, like the Game Boy Advance, you know. Make of that what you will, but it pleases me to know that you can also have a cute nickname for your cute nickname. Nicknameception.

Yes, exactly that, "I did not write that, and if I did in fact write that.. No I did not." Also, "the mystery will marinate"??? That's an amazing word choice and some day I will absolutely use it for something, just you wait. I think it just goes to show that you should write everything while tired, haha.

Haha I love that naming convention for you. It may make very little sense, but....... but. Also, happy birthday for whenever it is, presumably in the nearby past or future!! Lots of love!! You're the summer child while your sibling is... a summer child, but like, different.

Since you appreciated my almost-name story, I'll reward you with the rest of it: so my name is Tuuli, which is Finnish for "wind". My mum originally wanted to name me Pilvi, which means "cloud". And then she was like oh no this child is not at all serene and cloud-like??? and thus, a new me. I'm glad she had second thoughts, although I wonder if having such an ill-fittingly chill name would've done anything to alter my personality? Nomen est omen and all. There's some kind of an alternate universe where all of that played out, but I'm glad it's not this one.

Yeah either you watched the semis and have no idea, or you didn't watch them and have no idea. There is no way to get what was going on there, I'm certain they themselves also didn't get it. I had no idea about hagelslag but thjipgnhefjpihjo that's amazing, I love that for you!!!! There was absolutely no reason to go there but you as a country just... did that. Amazing. Please have some and report to me so I can live through you. And also, you are absolutely legit Victorian royalty [or something] *bows in return*. Also, I do love how you say "I watched the semis (obviously)." Imagine if you didn't and this entire time I was tragically misinterpreting the nature and intentions of your ask and you were just rolling with it because you've no idea what I'm on about but are also too polite to tell me that. Khhhhhhh

Your brain has priorities!!!! And they're honestly beautiful. Well done, brain. Subway driver Gandíaaaaaaaaaa~~~ My brain is filled with Berlermo quotes that come @ me at random times during the day and leave me just a tad shell-shocked, remembering how it all went down. I'm eating my morning yoghurt and my brain goes yo te propuse fundir oro juntos, and I'm just there like :)))))) Real nice, brain.

Have you had the opportunity to see Promising Young Woman yet? Hhhhh it's so pretty, every time I work on this reply [it's a lot of times, okay, I'm very diligent about this, I stare at this ask and craft snazzy replies in my head all the time, that's why I'm so slow in... actually replying] I'm reminded of that. I'm not a very visual person but the colours and the framing... that was really nice.

I am somewhat glad you've not been to Finland yet, you must hit me up when you come visit, I'll take you for coffee!!! It's actually cooler now (bless!!!!!!!!!!!), the last... four days have been reasonable 14-20 degrees, after four consequtive weeks of 25+. Kkhhhh thinking back to it makes me feel a little ill, but now beret weather is back. I own a lot of berets, dear gay bike anon. I'm going to my university city for the weekend and I'm already wondering which beret(s) I should bring with me. This is an important decision with potential long-lasting consequences. I don't know if you've played any of Telltale's games (The Wolf Among Us and the first two seasons of The Walking Dead are the best ones, fight me), but when you make a decision and the game goes "This character will remember that." and you instantly go oh no what have I done??? That's how I feel about choosing the perfect beret for my city outing. But yes, weather extremes are just the worst. We've been having the longest drought I've ever seen here (it's still not properly rained, for the record, on Tuesday it rained for an hour or so) while in other places there's awful flooding. That's awful.

Ahhh I'm so happy you're continuing your Spanish-learning!! I took a beginner's course at uni in the spring semester, I'm going to take the next one when uni resumes in September. And yes, I'm studying it for LCDP. I mean I love languages in general, but I never had a particular need to study Spanish, until this year I suddenly did. I'm also Duolingo-ing it! Very slowly and steadily. Also, I adore the idea of your cat being your Denver. What's your cat's name??? What do they look like?? Tell me everything, you can't just leave it at my cat, you simply must allow me to meet them. Also, you know why guide cats aren't a thing? Because cats are the worst. I love cats, but you can't just teach them to do useful things. They'll do them if they want to. As I type this, my cat is trying to catch flies at my feet. Her name is Muusa.

I studied accounting for my undergrad!! So I can join you in [[[preventing]]] tax fraud and [[[recognising]]] tampering with financial statements. We can make a totally legitimate business out of it. No but truly, I'm certain we were taught some of those things with the expectation that our future employers would expect it of us. Capitalism is so fun :)))))) And you shouldn't be surprised, academia is but a stepping stone to crime, honestly. Any dark academia book will tell you this. You start out learning Latin and wearing turtlenecks, you end up with murder. That's just how academia works. And you seem to have already chosen your weapon... you're well on your way. :) Palermo the Pirate sounds great!!! I support your mutiny. I don't think I said, but this is my favourite word of the English language. Mutiny. Mutiny????? It doesn't sound very serious. It sounds cute, actually. I love it.

I'm so happy to hear you got your covid vaccine!!!! I had mine a month ago or so - I typed you a reply to the subway Gandía thing on the train ride back, actually. I was really stressed about getting it on my right arm, because I'm left-handed, and last time I got a vaccination (like a decade ago) they insisted on giving it on my left arm and I was sad :( But this time!! I got it on my chosen arm and was very pleased. So anyway, that was a segue. I'm glad you got your covid shot and were side effect -free!!!

My week has been good, thank you!! I went to my uni city for my niece's birthday on Monday, and as said I'm going back on Friday (tomorrow). So this time in between has felt like exactly that, time in between. I started reading Call Me By Your Name. I had my Korean class last night. Now I'm hanging out with my cat (she has stopped chasing flies and climbed to my lap) and talking to you. My holidays started already in May! And uni resumes in the beginning of September, but I'm a tutor for new students so I need to show up three weeks earlier for the orientation weeks. Yes, we do three weeks of orientation (read: three weeks of drinking). It's a bit insane.

Now I need to ask you again how your week has been, since I'm so slow. How has your week been?? Are you free from your exams?? When does your uni resume?

Stroopwafels are so good ahhh I'll have to buy them when and or if I see them. Possibly when I'm in central Europe but haha I can hope to be lucky and see them at a store with imported stuff, you know. My favourite cookies??? Omg maybe these ones - they have this truffle filling, and they're fun to eat (this is important in cookies, you see):

And of course they're Fazer. Because Finnish people have only one setting, apparently. Or maybe that's just me. But all cookies are great, honestly. I like making American cookies, that's always a fun pastime (and you get to have cookie dough, that's like half the fun). I've actually not made them for a lifetime??? Maybe I should, soon. I'll keep you updated. Also, brookies. I love making brookies, they're great.

I really really appreciate being given prompts, I hope you know that!! Thank you!! Consider me pocketing this prompt and maybe eventually some day theoretically getting back to you about it!! You're right - it has Berlermo energy. Insofar as either of them actually have other friends. :)

Thank you for this kind message, dear gay bike anon <3 I'd apologise for my slowness in replying but I think I'd rather you just assume that I'll get back to you, and thank you for your patience <3 Your kind and funny and chaotic asks always brighten my day. I hope you'll have a great rest of the week and just... all the nice and fun and good things and great vibes in life. All the best, dear gay bike anon <3 Take care!! And greetings from Muusa as well - she just yawned and I presume that means "greetings".

[fandomfuryy]

Cipher Sibling AU: Chapter 1

I have finally decided to share my Cipher Sibling AU with y’all! But since I don’t want to be annoying towards those who have no interest in it, imma put

There! (You should see the “Keep reading” thing. If you did not, sorry for this long post ur gonna have to scroll down) 

If you clicked on it, thank you for the interest. I’m not gonna rant too much, just give the basic info of this AU.  

So my AU is taking place in the past before Stanford ever came to Gravity Falls. It will continue into the future after Bill was frozen. I’ll let you know whether it is past or future/present. In this AU, as the title implies, it will have Bill’s siblings, Will and Kill. I dd not make these characters, I am simply using them in my own way. If you know who made them let me know:) 

Now onto the story!

△Chapter One: The First Rule Breaker△

Past

“Hey, Will! Guess what!” Bill pops up behind him.

“What?” Will turns to look at him curiously.

“I just found out why obtuse triangles are always upset,” Bill says, trying not to laugh.

“They are upset?? Oh no! Bill, why are they upset??” Will’s eye widens.

Bill, Will, and Kill are beings of energy and could take on any form they choose. However, they have agreed upon a simple, triangular shape with one eye. Bill is yellow, Will is blue, and Kill is red.

“Because… THEY’RE NEVER RIGHT!!” Bill laughs at his own joke, while Will blinks.

“Don’t make fun of people for being wrong, Bill! That’s not nice!” Bill sees the tears welling up in Will’s eyes. Will can be so emotional about everything. He can’t even make a proper joke without Will getting offended.

“Bill!” Bill rolls his eye and turns to the third Cipher.

“Hey Kill guess what!”

“Why are you tormenting Will with your immature stories again?” He asks unimpressed.

“They’re jokes,” Bill mutters.

“Well they are childish. Look what you did, Will is crying now.” Kill gives him a disapproving glare, and then goes over to Will.

Kill is too overprotective of Will, Bill thinks. However, if anyone other than him or Kill hurts Will, Bill would definitely destroy them too if Kill hadn’t first.

Bill, Will, and Kill are the Cipher Siblings. They are also the most powerful beings in existence. If only they weren’t trapped in the Mindscape.

Ciphers have no gender. They are simply a Cipher. However, Bill prefers to use the he, his, him pronouns, as well as Kill and Will.

Bill is the Cipher of Chaos, or so his siblings say anyway. Despite being the same age, Bill is considered the youngest sibling, due to his actions. Personally, Bill thinks that Will should be considered youngest since he is the weakest.

Will is the Cipher of emotion. Unlike Bill and Kill, Will has feelings towards others, as well as pretty much anything. He cries way too much. I bet if I told him that, he would cry as a response. But Will isn’t always a crybaby. If nothing upsets him, he is usually a more quiet, kind being. Unusual for a Cipher.

And then there is Kill. Cipher of destruction. He is in charge. I’m not sure who decided that. Probably him. He is very sophisticated, the opposite of Bill. He may be Cipher of destruction, but he is very organized. He is no fun. Only rules and work, rules and work. All he cares about. However, something about Kill is… You don’t want to get on his bad side. Because if he hates you, chances are your life has come to an end.

But the best part about the Ciphers is that they are inseparable. They look out for each other no matter what, and together, they are the most powerful beings. Even alone, they are powerful.

The sad part is Kill and Will don’t even use their powers to the extent that they have. Only when necessary.  Not like Bill. Bill likes to use his powers. He likes creating new things, testing his limits. He likes to be weird.

Bill looks out of their… home, He guesses would be the best word to describe to a human, and into the vast abyss that is the mindscape. It is infinite, like the universe. However with powers such as Bills, he can sense what is going on in every single part of it. The mindscape allows access to the dreams of humans in the 4th dimension. The real dimension. Bill has always wanted to visit. He has watched people’s dreams from afar, imagining what it would be like to control his own world, not just a dream the someone will wake up from and forget.

Although he technically controls the dreamscape with Will and Kill, they are never as fun and are always saying we don’t control the mindscape, we simply watch over it. We protect it.“

Pfft. Protect. I don’t want to protect it, Bill thinks. Bill wants to use his powers for actual meanings. Bill wants to test his limits, to create his world. Not protect other people’s worlds.

Bill decides to go alter people’s dreams again. It’s forbidden, but no one notices a few little changes every now and then, do they?

He transports himself into a new dream.

Like usual, it is a resident in Gravity Falls. Bill has felt drawn to this place even before it was given a name. Something about it… calls to him. People often dream about crazy things there, things they have seen, or thought they have seen. And for some reason, it uses less of Bill’s energy when altering dreams from Gravity Falls.

Bill is in a forest. A Gravity Falls forest. He’s seen many dreams with a setting in this forest. He looks around and sees a girl. The dreamer. Bill sits himself atop a tree branch and watches the scene.

Suddenly, a boy appears. Ugh, not another romance dream. These are boring. But hey, he loves seeing their faces when he makes the dream more interesting.

“Hey, I never thought I’d see you here,” the boy smiles at the girl. The girl’s name is Rosaline. Bill knows everything about her now that he has entered her personal dreamscape. He knows everything about everyone.

Yawn, Bill is getting bored. Time for some fun!

He watches as the boy leans in towards Rosaline, and suddenly backs away disguised as Rosalind’s teeth start falling out. She looks at the ground with her eyes wide, face horrified.She puts her hand through her hair, and it falls out too.

Bill laughs. He watches as the boy flickers out of the dream, and Rosaline is left alone. Bill likes to make weird things happen in peoples dreams, it spices up the mindscape life.

Usually, Bill stops here. He can’t do too many changes at once without Kill or Will sensing it. But strangely, he doesn’t stop this time. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t have a conscious. Maybe he is a conscious. Bill pops up beside Rosaline.

“Hi there!” Bill waves. He would have smiled too if he had a mouth.

“Who are you?” Rosaline looks up at Bill.

“I’m Bill. Now I noticed that you are having boy trouble, aren’t you?” He asks.

“Kinda. I really like this guy, his name is Max. But he never seems to notice me. And every time I’m about to talk to him, I get nervous. Even in my dream I scared him away! It’s like a bad omen,” she rants. “Wow I’m basically talking to myself, aren’t I? You’re me.”

“No, I’m Bill!” He says. “You are the first person I have met in a long time, Rosaline Harsley.”

“How do you know my name…?” She asks.

“Didn’t I tell you I know everything? Like you were born in Canada, moved to Gravity Falls with your family when you were four, and you are currently 17! ” Bill sits down and puts his hands at the back of his head. “So anyway, about your dilemma,”

Bill has no interest in this mortal’s love life, but he has never talked to someone from out of the mindscape in so long. He doesn’t want the conversation to end.

She seems confused as to how he knows so much about her. She probably thinks Bill is just another figment of her imagination in this dream.

Bill and Rosaline chat for a while, and Bill starts to wonder if Kill is going to kill him later. But he can't because the Ciphers have an equal amount of power! Ha.

“I just never know how to talk to him. It’s too bad you aren’t there, you seem to have the confidence to walk right up to him.” Rosaline says at some point.

Too bad you weren’t there,

The Cipher siblings have multiple rules, but one rule is the sacred, most important rule that can never be broken. Don’t make a deal with a human.

“Rosaline, maybe I could help you. If I were to… be with you, while you tried to talk to him, then wouldn’t that be so much easier?” I ask. She mustn’t have noticed the glint in Bill’s eye, or the way his voice grew more excited by the moment.

“Yeah, it would. Too bad it isn’t possible. Or is it?” She looks up at me.

Bill looks down at his now blue flame engulfed hand.

“All you have to do is shake my hand,”

Well this seems longer when I copy and paste it onto Tumblr. Anyways, I have this queued to post every Friday so the next chapter will be out then. So ya. Hope you liked it! If you did, let me know :) 

Also I may have some information wrong, so if you’re going to correct me, please do so in a nice way. Thanks!

Next 

[walkerstormfanworks-blog]

Potential fun COA HC/prompt: one of the omega bbs grows up and starts dating and brings home their first alpha to meet Alex and George, and his name ends up being Kevin; said omega does not understand why their mom can't stop laughing.

Here you go Nonny – and this is the absolute last prompt I’m taking for this ‘verse because we’re up to basically a sequel of one shots now. But I loved this one so much I couldn’t help myself. So here it is: Gil Gets A Boyfriend

“Is he here yet?” John asked as he stuck his head in his father’s office.

“Who?” George raised an eyebrow at his oldest son, even though he knew exactly what his oldest son was asking. Just like he knew exactly why all of his boys had suddenly found that they were free this Sunday for lunch.

Usually it took monumental amounts of parental guilt and the occasional outright use of omega manipulation by Alexander to get all the kids to come to dinner every other week. And then they didn’t always get everyone around the table at the same time unless it was a holiday or a birthday.

The kids were grown now and they were busy. They had lives of their own. John and Gus’s law firm was expanding and they were working crazy hours. Gus and Henriette had another baby on the way. Phillip was working crazy hours with his residency at Georgetown and Caleb was in his first year of his post-doc, trying to make a name for himself in the public policy world, trying to prove that he was more than just a former President’s son. Gil and Rachel were busy at college and Martha and Eliza were in the middle of the existential angst of high school seniors who didn’t know what they wanted to be when they grew up.

But when Gil had mentioned last weekend during George’s birthday dinner that he was dating someone and he’d like to bring his new young man to Sunday dinner? Suddenly all of his siblings found they had a free Sunday to come to dinner. And his older brothers had shown up early.

Now George had four young alphas prowling his house, on edge and already decided that whoever it was that Gil was dating? That alpha needed to die.

“Are they here yet?” Lafayette stuck his head in beside John’s. Make that four young alphas, one alpha who refused to believe he was old enough to be a grandfather and George. And none of them were impressed with Gil’s new boyfriend. Not that they’d met him yet. Hell, George couldn’t even convince Caleb Brewster’s son— who’d taken his father’s place on George’s Secret Service team— to tell him about the young man because Gil’s detail had “promised him privacy”. Like the boy had any expectation of privacy.

“No.” George stared at them and kept his expression flat. “They aren’t here yet.”

“Oh for God’s sake,” Alexander snapped behind them. “All of you, outside. You’re stinking up my house with all these alpha rage pheremones. Gil and his young man will be here when they get here. Dinner isn’t for another hour.”

“Don’t you think they should show up on time though?” John muttered.

“What I think is that I shouldn’t have a bunch of dumb alphas prowling around my house like this is some damn mob movie and your brother has started dating in a rival family.”

“It’s—” George heard Phillip say from the hall. “Ow!”

“Dad,” Phillip called out. “Mom hit me.”

George sighed. “Did you deserve it?”

“Yes.” Alexander called out. “And I’m going to smack the rest of you if you don’t stop with this regressive alpha posturing.”

“But this guy is dating Gil.”

“Gil has dated lots of guys,” Alexander muttered.

“What?” Gus yelped. “Who? When? What guys?”

George raised an eyebrow. Gil had been dating? Why had no one told him? He hadn’t met any of his son’s suitors. Hadn’t approved of any young alphas trying to win his son’s hand.

“Newsflash,” Alexander retorted. “Not only has he dated, he’s had sex. And he’s on birth control. So is Rachel. And the other girls.”

“Mom!” Martha yelled. “Shut up.”

“Oh like having bodily autonomy and the ability to have a sex positive relationship without being shamed for it is a bad thing? I’ll have you know when I was your age—”

“We know,” Eliza yelled. “Things were super regressive back in the dark ages before Dad was President but that doesn’t mean you have to tell them all our private business. It’s none of their business.”

“It’s my business,” George called out as he closed the briefing he’d been reading and pushed back from his desk.

“Great.” Eliza huffed. “Thanks Mom.”

He made his way to the door of his office and stared at the seething mass that was his family, all of them clumped around their much smaller mother.

George stared at his husband, dwarfed by the much larger alphas surrounding him. His hair was more gray than chestnut how and there were lines beside his eyes and laugh lines when he smiled. After eight babies he was plumper than the bony young omega that George had saved all those years before. He was still bossy though. Still smart and sarcastic and every time George stared at him he felt his chest tighten as he realized that this omega had bonded himself to George. This omega had found him worthy of sharing this life and this family with.

“You’re not—” Alexander started.

The front door creaked slightly and everyone froze.

“Mom? Dad?” Gil yelled.

“We’re home.” Rachel called out. “Is anyone here?”

Their sons— and Lafayette— stampeded out of the hallway in front of George’s study and started toward the foyer.

“Alphas.” Alexander sighed.

“Don’t look at me.” George held his hands up.

“The only reason you’re not in front of the rest of them is you’ve already worked out a secret signal with your detail to kill Gil’s boyfriend if you don’t like him.”

“Maybe.” George took his husband’s hand and laced their fingers together, walking at a more respectable pace than his sons had used to meet the young alpha who had decided to face his wrath.

The front of the house was quiet when they reached the foyer and George felt worry gnaw in the pit of his stomach. Who had Gil brought home that had stunned his brothers into speechlessness? A killer? A guy with a tattoo on his face? His son hadn’t brought home a Republican, had he? No, Gil had better taste than that.

The kids moved aside as George and Alexander entered the foyer and he could see Gil cowering next to another young man, the scent of scared omega coming off both—

Oh. George’s eyes widened.

“Mom. Dad.” Gil swallowed as he lifted his chin and George watched as his son’s hand came down to hold the other omegas. “This is my boyfriend. Kevin.”

“Kevin?” Alexander asked, his voice momentarily strangled. When George looked over his husband had quickly regained his composure.

“Yes,” Gil said, his voice firm and his chin tilted. “This is my omega boyfriend Kevin. Actually, my fiance.”

“You’re what?” Gus yelped.

George reached over to smack his son on the back of the head.

“My fiance. The person I’m going to marry,” Gil answered and George heard his voice waver as his shoulders started to curl inward under the scrutiny of so many alphas.

George watched as his husband launched himself forward, hugging both young men. “I’m so happy for both of you.”

“Really?” Gil squeaked.

“Of course I am,” Alexander retorted. “But why didn’t you bring him home sooner?”

His husband looked at the pack of alphas staring at them. “Never mind, dumb question.”

His husband turned to the rest of the siblings. “Go. Outside. Beat each other up while I get to know Kevin. Shoo.”

George muscled himself forward and held his hand out to the young man still cowering by Gil’s side. “Kevin.”

“Mr. President?” The omega held his trembling hand out for George to shake.

“If you’re marrying my son I think you could call me George. Once we get to know each other you might even be willing to call me Dad.”

He let go of Kevin and turned to Gil. “Son.”

“Dad.” Gil wrapped his arms around him and George sighed in contentment to have his entire family home safe. “Don’t let them kill him?”

“No worries,” he whispered. “I’ll keep them in line.”

He let go of his son and quickly hugged Rachel as well. “Now, everyone out of the foyer. Go. Find something to do while I help your mother finish dinner.”

He smirked as his stunned boys hugged Gil and Rachel and the entire pack of them made their way back into the family room to continue their ongoing video game wars. He laced his fingers with Alexander’s and tugged him into the kitchen.

“Kevin?” George whispered and Alexander started to giggle. “He’s fucking with us right?”

Alexander gasped and then let out a loud howl of laughter, bending himself in half and choking for air. “Oh God.”

“The kid’s name really is Kevin?” George couldn’t help laughing.

Alexander nodded, still gasping for breath.

“This is your fault,” George muttered as he watched his omega sink to the floor, still snorting and giggling. George sat down across from him and pulled Alexander into his lap.

“How is this my fault?” Alexander snorted.

“You remember how you were when you were pregnant with the twins?” George muttered. “You were always horny. George, don’t worry about that trade treaty right now. I need time with Kevin.”

Alexander snorted again. “Are you suggesting that somehow the name Kevin subliminally implanted in Gil’s head as a code word for amazing lover?”

“What I’m saying is that I’m never going to be able to knot you again without feeling weird,” George retorted, nipping his husband’s bond mark.

“Yeah like a little weird has ever stopped you. Like I told you all those years ago— Kevin is a very special boy.”

George snorted as he bopped his omega on the nose with the tip of his finger. 

“Stop it. It’s going to be hard enough to get through dinner as it is. If you start making jokes I’ll never get through it.”

“Oh it’ll be fine,” Alexander wiggled in his husband’s lap and tilted his head up for a kiss. “But eventually we’re going to have to talk about Kevin.”

George snorted as he tilted his head forward to kiss his love. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Alexander replied. “You and Kevin.”

George shook his head. “You’re so wrong.”

“That’s why you love me.”

“Possibly.”