#I have no idea where the incorrect name comes from

[chappellrroan]

hey babe okay so I saw the first episode and let me tell u u thirsting about helly r (or helen? im guessing that's her outside name) is soo valid and justified she's very pretty and she's banging on doors screaming to get out and throwing things so I obviously admire her lol also this scout guy omg I cannot take him seriously he was a joke character in the good place it was so funny I keep thinking of him but except for that hmmm it's kinda interesting but I fell asleep like 5 times😭 why is it so slow vio why do they show stupid things like him walking through a white hallway and tying his shoelaces i guess am just used to sitcoms i cannot watch these slowpokes I hope i didn't miss anything important my favourite scene yet from just ep1 was scout sobbing in his car before going to work (haha been there done that) and also helly's video she's so animated corporates will truly kill us all this concept is wild tho but like. it's. i thought that wow i can't keep you're giving away one third of your life to a corporation and you're not even going to remember it like how can you waste it lifeis sooo precious. but then I think about all the precious hours i spent in my office formatting idiotic word documents because my seniors said the font looks bad the spacing is incorrect and how tired I was that I just came home and fell asleep and I'm like oh. i loved that line the boss lady said that humans imagined hell but it doesn't exist but the scary part is that what humans can imagine, they can create. so we all gonna die. but anyway yes that's my review of the first episode.i think i definitely missed some important things like i remember seeing some very old guy talking and suddenly he's like I'm petey and I'm like wait YOU'RE petey? where did u come from? but I'll figure it out lol maybe I didn't sleep enough last night

you'll only fall more and more in love with helly lol (also try not to get spoiled by my posts here because i need to see you react to everything a hundred percent authentic). okay in show's defence it's trying to show and not tell, that's why the first episode might seem a bit boring and slow but trust me it'll speed up by end of 2nd episode. the walking thing is show you the shift in his mannersims how outside he seemed depressed and crying while when his innie (aka the severed self) had absolutely no idea at all (the puzzled look at the wet tissue paper and throwing it) the changing of shoes because he isn't allowed to wear outside ones inside it'd have probably make his innie wonder why they're wet (i am realising this as we speak tbh, because his innie has no idea about sky sun snow weather etc) and give him a chance okay forget his previous characters RIGHTTTT it seems like a fucked up concept but if it was possible i am sure soo many companies would take advantage of it to prey on depressed/naive people. like it sounds nice as a concept but (you'll realise this as you watch) in fact is inhuman to that the other part of yourself that is consistently working. lmao that's miss cobel for you, tell me more about how you feel about her as you go on. also get some sleep and try not to be too worried about catching all the symbolism you'll get them as you go plus we have tumblr to discuss anyways mwah

[isfjmel-phleg]

I got myself an account to edit DC Wiki because an article got a (very minor) character's name wrong. Joshua Terrill's mother was named Gayle, it's listed correctly on Joshua's page, but his father's gave it as "Rachael." This is incorrect.

(The Ray 1994 #28)

Anyway, last night I fixed this.

And then this morning someone just changed it back???? Excuse me?

[wannabeschyulersister]

“What’s my middle name?”

Pedro’s smirk widened as he heard the responses to your question from his fellow cast members. They were all hilariously incorrect.

“You don’t have a middle name,” he replied confidently when they all gave up.

You turned your card over and showed what you wrote, “You are correct. I don’t have a middle name.”

Pedro wanted to wink at you since you had both discussed facts like this early on, but he was aware of the numerous eyes and cameras on you both.

During the press tour, the two of you had to be extremely cautious not to let the lingering glances or secret touches be revealed. It was incredibly challenging to maintain a distance from the man you loved so deeply.

“Next question, what Marvel movie did I have a minor role in?”

Pedro knew the answer before you finished asking the question. “You were in Captain America: The Winter Solider.”

“Correct,” you smiled.

Pedro scored more points with the last two questions you had. It surprised the others, but not you.

Next, it was Paul’s turn. You all got a few minutes for a break before the rest of the game. You asked one of the PAs where the bathroom was, and they pointed you in the right direction.

You entered the room and finished your business before exiting. Pedro stood alone in the hallway, waiting for you. A part of you sensed that he would follow you away from the others.

He extended his index finger to gesture you over, saying, “Come here.”

You eagerly complied. It felt like it had been too long since you last felt his embrace. It had just been a few hours and you were craving it. He drew you closer, and your lips met in a passionate kiss.

His lips moved to your neck and then right under your left ear, uttering, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve been sitting right next to you during all these interviews this morning,” you chuckled.

“I know,” he replied, “but I haven’t been able to touch you, kiss you, or do anything. It’s been torture.”

“Oh, you poor, baby,” you cooed.

Pedro tightened his grip on you once more before letting you go in case anyone made their way down the hall.

“We just have a couple more interviews, and then I’ll be yours.”

That made him smile. “I like the sound of that.”

You couldn’t help but kiss his cheek softly.

“I have an idea,” he blurted out.

“Uh oh,” you said jokingly.

“Why don’t we attend one of the premieres of the movie together, as a couple?” He appeared vulnerable in that moment, as if he was apprehensive about your response.

“Is that what you truly want?” you inquired. It had been nearly a year of hiding the relationship. He had been hinting for some time that he was ready for something more.

He nodded in agreement, “If we both agree, I wouldn’t want to force you into doing anything you’re not prepared for.”

You swiftly weighed your pros and cons. Undoubtedly, there were more pros.

You grabbed his hand and smiled, “Then I guess we better color coordinate our outfits.”

[iamumbra195]

School Bus Graveyard incorrect quotes because I'm bored

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

Taylor: Look how creepy it is looking down this hallway.

Ashlyn: I'm gonna get vertigo.

Aiden: I'm a Virgo!

Tyler, deadpan: No, you're a virgin.

...

Aiden: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!

Tyler: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

Aiden: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ASHLYN WITH ME

Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.

...

Taylor: Why is Tyler so upset?

Logan: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes

Taylor: And...?

Logan: He got Aiden.

...

Ashlyn: What did you do with the phantom's body?

Aiden: What didn’t I do with the body?

Everyone:

Aiden: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the phantom respectfully.

...

Aiden: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.

Logan: Aiden, no.

Ben, with text to speech: Mistlefoe.

Logan: Please stop encouraging him.

...

Taylor: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?

Tyler: You’re a hazard to society

Aiden: And a coward. DO TWENTY.

...

Emma, trying to be nice to Ashlyn's new friends: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Mike, excited for his daughter: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?

...

Logan: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?

Ben: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-

Aiden: Smad.

...

Ashlyn: Why are you on the floor?

Aiden: I'm depressed.

Aiden: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ben, please.

...

Taylor: Aiden and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us

Ashlyn, sighing: What did he do?

Taylor: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...

Aiden: Who wants a steering wheel?

...

Aiden: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?

Logan: How am I supposed to know?

Tyler: You say that as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.

Logan: ...You wouldn't be trapped.

...

Ashlyn: Tyler, keep an eye on Aiden today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.

Tyler: Sure, I’d love to see him get punched.

Ashlyn: Try again.

Tyler, sighing: I will stop Aiden from getting punched.

...

Aiden, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him

Tyler: You did WHAT–

Ben: William Snakespeare

...

Ashlyn: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life

Taylor: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?

Ashlyn: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.

Aiden: edible

...

Taylor, whispering to Aiden, who’s on the phone with Ashlyn: Ask her something!

Aiden: How are you feeling?

Ashlyn: Fine.

Taylor: Something personal!

Aiden: At what age did you start hearing voices?

...

Aiden: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited

Logan: If?

Tyler: Great, the only party I’d actually go to and he might not even die.

...

Logan: We need a distraction.

Ashlyn: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?

Aiden, whispering: My time has come

...

Tyler: Where are you going?

Taylor: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there

Tyler: I'll come with

...

Mike, buying a whole bag of knives, guns and other weapons like he's going to war on a random Tuesday: I can explain

Jacob (shop owner): Can you?

Mike: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.

...

Taylor: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.

Tyler, sighing: What did you do?

Taylor, wailing: A MISTAKE

...

Mr. Thomas: What are your goals?

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs.

Mr. Thomas: No, I meant your goals for this trip.

Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs in Savannah.

...

Logan: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?

Ashlyn: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak?

...

Taylor: Aiden isn’t answering their phone

Ashlyn: I’ll call

Taylor: Ben and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-

Aiden: Hello?

...

Aiden: I was arrested for being too cool.

Tyler: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.

...

Aiden: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much

Taylor: You’ve been to jail?

Aiden: Once. In Monopoly.

...

Mike: You love me, right?

Emma: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

...

Aiden: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

Ashlyn: Okay

Aiden: And make out during the scary parts.

Ashlyn: The-

Ashlyn: The scary parts?

Ashlyn: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.

...

Ashlyn: How petty can you get?

Tyler: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Taylor: I KNEW IT-

...

Aiden: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.

Logan: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

...

Mike: So what’s for dinner?

Emma, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

That's all for today!

[drawing-prompt-s]

Notice:

Hello, as some of you may be coming here with the belief that I am the same admin that runs @/Writing-Prompt-s please know that is incorrect! I am NOT! We share a similar name because he started it years ago, but I have been running it solo for almost 8 years now and have nothing to do with his other blog(s) or whatever it going down. Thank you!

Also I don't scrape(?) my prompts from Reddit or any other site - they're all submitted by other users who follow this blog and I just pick some to post (that's why you can find posts on here where I remind others to send them in). Occasionally I may make my own if I have an idea! But that's a misconception I keep seeing that I wanted to add this about.

Further explanation/information under the cut about who runs this blog:

While the/an admin of Writing-prompt-s did start this blog years ago, he then left it to idle and focused on his original blog. I saw this and reached out, again years ago, asking to run it - to which I was promoted to admin. I have been running Drawing-prompt-s solo for about 7 or 8 years now.

Until yesterday (08.06.24) I had no idea anything was even going on with his blog. I have nothing to do with it, I barely even see anything from it aside from the rare prompt come up on my dash nowadays. I only found out when I went to Q a bunch of posts up and found a slew of hate mail ranging from calling me a zionist, threatening violence, and telling me to kill myself. And one of my followers having sent an anon informing me that one of those posts had incorrectly stated he ran this blog as well - that user has since recognized that this is not the case, and various others have pointed it out.

I had a pinned post about this before and when I left for a few hours and came back it was gone. I am working under the assumption right now this is just the fault of Tumblr, though I am tentative about that. So if you see this posted again that is why, and if you see this exact post made again then just be aware it is becuase I am saving a copy of this message and each time the post is removed I will be reposting it, as i am saving this elsewhere so I do not have to rewrite it each time.

I do not want argument under this - I have caught up on everything going on, I have seen the post saying he runs this one, etc. All I wanted for this blog is to post prompts, share art, and encourage others to follow their passion for creation. And occasionally to drop cute cat pictures of my little gremlins.

To those who have been here for years and know who I am, know I am not that same person, I say thank you for sticking around - and to those correcting the misinformation, thank you again. I appriciate it <3

Yours sincerely,

a very confused chick in her early 20s who had no idea anything was even going down.

-- Prompt Prophet

[uchinagai]

Echoes of Us - winter

𝜗𝜚 idol!Winter x producer!reader

𝜗𝜚 synopsis : Winter just wanted a peaceful global solo debut with the help of another company, 88rising, but of course, the universe had to nerf her with worse luck, or not…

𝜗𝜚 contains : idol! winter, producer ex !reader, fem!reader, wlw, mentions of a messy break-up, kind of angsty but gets better!! um yeah idk what else to say

𝜗𝜚 w/k : 1.5k+

𝜗𝜚 a/n : English is not my first OR second language so please, ignore anything incorrect. js a random idea I wanted to write about nothing too big >.<

The conference room felt suffocating despite its size. She tapped her pen against the table—a small, futile attempt to keep calm as the 88rising team finalized her debut plans.

How long has she been wishing on this? God knows. One might say she has wanted to be solo since her debut. So having her artist name—Winter—without Aespa attached to it made her feel funny and giggly inside.

Well not for long, because not only was the producer she was assigned to unknown and hid their artist name, not even taking credit sometimes, but they were late too.

Very late.

The conference was about to end when the staff, who was sent in instead of the producer attending, got a message and looked down at the phone letting out probably the biggest sigh of relief.

“She’s gonna be in here 5 minutes, can we manage to stretch it?”

She?

Winter's manager looked down at the clock and nodded.

“We have a full day today, Minjeong has no schedules,”

It was obvious, that the person they sent in to replace her, was clueless about most of the things. She couldn’t answer anything related to the producer's working ethic and how long it would take her to finish up the project.

It was when Winter glanced towards the door when it opened, revealing a beautiful figure of a woman, in her 20s entering the room causing Winter the forget how to breathe.

Not only was the woman beautiful but also… familiar, way too familiar to her liking.

As she sat down next to her replacement, also across from Winter, the girl almost felt nauseous.

The familiar scent hitting her nose brought back many memories, such as holding and kissing a person with this scent.

As the person across her settled down on the chair, taking off the cap, Minjeong heard a small *click* in her head, putting everything together.

She wasn’t just gonna work with anybody, she was gonna work with y/n l/n.

The ex.

Well, how did this all begin??

Let’s divide winter's 4 years of training into three parts.

Two years of being friends with y/n

Almost dating y/n for two years

y/n l/n vanishing from her life without a word.

y/n managed to erase herself from Minjeongs life like she never existed, if the rest of the Aespa didn’t know y/n personally they would think Minjeong was crazy and making up lies about her imaginary girlfriend that made her life worth it all.

It’s been 4 years now, and has the younger one moved on? She thought she did before seeing the girl appear right in front of her like they spoke just yesterday, all chill and relaxed. 

Did she plan this all out? Just reappearing into her life as her producer four years later after being ghosted?

Blonde felt sick to her stomach, everything was coming back to her and all she could do was stare at the girl in front of her, frozen.

As the staff finally managed to give y/n all the information she missed, she looked across her table, seeing the stunned girl in front of her.

“Minjeong?”

The same sweetness filled with worry rang Winter back to reality as she shook her head a little, maybe she was imagining it all, but no. The girl in front of her stayed at the same spot, looking at her with worry.

As much as she was happy seeing her, she felt just as sick and disgusted.

“I-i can’t–” is all she could mutter out before storming out of that room where barely any natural light setting in.

Older watched her storm off as she sighed and excused herself calmly getting up from the chair.

Y/n knew the SM building well enough to know where the shorter girl would run off, so calmly, she approached the bathrooms on the 4th floor, which in winter's words were the cleanest ones.

Knock once. Twice. No response.

The door was unlocked so y/n let herself into a sight of winter leaning onto the sink, water on. Face visibly wet which meant she splashed herself with it.

“No hello?”

“Don’t bullshit me y/n”

“Woah sorry me, trying to lighten the mood up”

“Lighten the mood? You’re four years late for that.”

“Still sassy as ever, hm?”

“What do you want? Did you take onto this job on purpose to make it a living hell y/n?”

“I took on a job offer from SM ent. For Winter of Aespa because I missed Minjeong.”

She shorter one bit on her lower lip, suppressing a smile, why was she folding so easily to someone that ghosted her for four years? She didn’t know. 

Winter removed her hands from the sink and approached the taller one, keeping a distance.

“Missed Minjeong so bad that you couldn’t think of a reply to her countless messages for four fucking years, l/n?”

“Guess you can say that,” Producer shrugged leaning against the door frame with a smirk as the idol scoffed at her audacity.

“Don’t bullshit me”

“Fine, then let’s say your company knew our little relationship, didn’t want me to debut with you guys and I didn’t wanna debut either so we came to a mutual agreement.”

Winter couldn’t believe her ears. She knew y/n like the back of her hand and she could always tell if she was lying by the way she avoided eye contact, or how she fidgeted with her hair or body part, but this time it was none.

“So that’s it then? I was just a ‘mutual agreement’ for you?”

y/n reached out her hand, trying to run her hand through blonde hair, like she would when Winter needed comfort after a long day of training. But she was four years late to comfort her, four years late to tell her ‘you can do this’, so of course, the idol refused and slapped her hand away.

“Hey now,”

“No, y/n. You can’t just show up in my life that I worked so hard to build and keep it after you just..-” she was tearing up, the lump in her throat was holding her back. y/n always knew how to crumble the walls she built. Like when y/n just effortlessly got a confession out of her and started dating just like that. Her wall was long crumbled when she breathed her scent after four years.

“I get it Minjeong, I do, why do you think I kept my name hidden all this time? Because I wanted to be ‘mysterious’? Bullshit. It was the only way SM would take me, not knowing me. The 88rising team has been going feral, trying to secretly set up a collab with you for me.-”

All Minjeong could do was watch the way y/n moved her lips up to her eyes, searching for a small bit of lie for her to point out and call her a liar but she couldn’t, older was sincere, which broke her even more.

“--I’m sorry for leaving you in this cruel industry, I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you when you needed me the most!”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Wha-”

And she felt the familiar cherry-flavored lips mixed with salty tears land on hers, shutting her instantly.

Winter’s lips moved against hers with an urgency that wasn’t just longing—it was pain, anger, and frustration all tangled together. It didn’t feel like out of love to y/n, but it didn’t matter her Minjeong was kissing her.

But as much as she wanted to melt into the kiss, into her, Y/n pulled back gently, resting her forehead against Winter’s. Her breath came out shaky as she whispered, “Jeongie…”

The younger girl opened her eyes, her gaze locking with Y/n’s. They were glassy and red, but there was still fire in them. “Don’t. Don’t say my name like that. Like you still care.”

Older wrapped her arm around her, resting her head now onto her shoulder, snuggling to her like a leach as younger didn’t pull her away, and going as far as wrapping her arms around her neck securing her.

“You know I do, Jeongie… I always cared,” she mumbled against the singer's neck.

“You wouldn’t leave me like that if you did, y/n…”

“Jeongie, you had your dreams and I was gonna hold you back, you know it. I was gonna hold back the star that shines on the stage today and I didn’t want that,”

Winter couldn’t think of anything. She was too drunk to hold her close, so she closed her eyes. So they stayed like this for a while, enjoying each other's embrace after four years of longing.

“You missed me, hm?”

“Missing you doesn’t mean I forgive you, y/n l/n,” Said the shorter one and pulled away from her, while keeping her hands on her shoulders.

“Tomorrow, don’t forget, we still have music to make,”

She said with a giggle and just ran out of the bathroom, causing y/n to laugh at her childish behavior.

“Jeongie!!” the producer chased after her as their running and laughter filled the SM ent building hallways, just like the old days.

Maybe there was still hope…

[ceaselesswatchersspecialboy]

Offering an NPD perspective on Ford Pines, because I feel the most common discussions surrounding his narcissistic traits tends to go in two ways — from what I’ve personally seen — and that’s defending him, and denying the mere possibility he may have NPD because it’s seen as a negative, or using NPD as a way to villainise him, and thus demonise NPD. Or, the alternative, this part of his character is completely overlooked.

That isn’t to say I haven’t seen some wonderful analyses on Ford and NPD, rather, I find it surprisingly lacking when his character might be some of the best representation of my own experience struggling with narcissism (alongside Bill).

I believe a lot of it stems from the misconception and stigma around NPD, and the fact Ford goes again common, typically incorrect, ideas, such as showing genuine care for other people, and accepting his failures and where he went wrong in the end, trying to repair his relationship with Stan, and realising that he doesn’t need to be recognised worldwide, as he’s found happiness with his family instead. All of these do not correlate with the media idea of a narcissist, but the fact is, narcissists are no different from any other disorder or mental health issue. We come in all different forms, and the idea we are inherently abusive or evil is such a widespread misconception that it becomes difficult getting help or support.

And that’s why I find Ford so important.

This alone, to me, describes in simple words how it feels to deal with NPD, and though you could argue Bill is projecting here, I think the point is they’re so similar, the lines blur. Both struggle with this same mentality, but Ford is able to reach out, and accept help, and Bill lets himself sink deeper and deeper into his own lies. Also, I’d argue it isn’t Bill projecting, because we sees evidence of this behaviour in Ford in the show and the journal.

He’s someone who believes himself destined for greatness, and won’t accept the bare minimum, such as when Fiddleford suggests he publish his research as is — No, he can’t have that. He has to be the one to uncover this grand theory. He has to have his name cemented amongst the greats. He believes himself to be special, different and more capable than other people, and yet he longs for the company of others all the same. He lives off of validation and praise, and strives for it, his own ego clashing against his lack of self-worth. Bill’s manipulations work on him because Ford eats up this sort of validation — it’s like one big high. It’s confirmation he is special. He is meant for greater things. He was right.

Ford notably struggles with empathy, which is likely both related to his autism, and also his narcissism. Other people simply don’t make sense to him. It takes effort for him to be able to understand people where they’re at, and he is willing to put in that effort notably, taking note of Fiddleford’s habits for example.

He also does struggle with manipulation and being deeply self-centred. A great example being Dipper’s apprenticeship. Ford is very subtly manipulating the situation here, and he doesn’t even notice, which is, in my own experience, common with NPD. He’s also unable to see Dipper and Mabel as, well, Dipper and Mabel, rather putting his own issues with Stan onto them, especially Dipper. He sees Dipper as a younger version of himself, and is trying to point him in that direction, never thinking whether it’s actually right for Dipper, or whether it’s for himself.

I could probably go on, like how he tends to have a black and white view of people, with his opinions on them easily flicking between extremes as a method of coping, or how he panics at the idea of his life’s work being destroyed, despite knowing the dangers.

Whether you agree he has NPD or not, Ford definitely has a lot of narcissistic traits, and yet, despite that, despite every mistake he’s made, everyone he’s pushed away, he gets a second chance. He gets to be loved and understood. He finds happiness. He gets to recover.

It’s very rare that characters with so many narcissistic traits get endings like that!

Ford is not a bad person because he’s a narcissist, he’s just a person, one who’s fucked up, and who’s still learning, and still healing, and that’s why he works. That’s why he’s such a comfort.

On a final note, If you are someone who’s going to argue vehemently against this idea, I kindly ask you simply scroll by!

[yourownutopia]

Shadowborn [Jin Woo x !Shadow !Fem Reader]

When the Shadow Monarch adds you to his ranks, he has no idea what he's in for. Not only are you uncontrollable, but you also harbor a secret that even the System keeps hidden from him. As he searches for a way to bring you under control, it becomes clear that your existence exposes a flaw in the perfect structure of the shadows—one that no one could have foreseen. Why don’t you yield to his will, and more importantly, why doesn’t the System want you to remember?

Chapter: [Prologue], [1] Song: Shadowborn - Hiroyuki Sawano Calm before the storm It's me they all are coming for Be my shadowborn

We're back to take the pain My soul is indestructible I steal you from the grave So cursed to be a slave

»»———-»--•--«———-«« Information: The prologue is written in the third person. I’m honestly unsure whether I want to keep it that way or write the following chapters from different POVs. Feel free to let me know if you’d be interested in a second-person perspective as well. This idea has been stuck in my head ever since I saw a similar start to a roleplay on Character AI. I’ve had so many thoughts since then, and I hope I can integrate them meaningfully into the story! I’m known for starting ideas and never finishing them, but I really hope it’ll be different with this story. At the very least, I still have plenty of fuel in the tank and a lot of motivation to write! <3Ideas, story requests, and feedback are always welcome, so don’t hesitate to reach out 😊

Enjoy the prologue!

Note: I want to clarify that English is not my first language. I’m sorry if there are any mistakes or if I sometimes use incorrect words. Please feel free to send me corrections so I can continue improving my skills! 😊

[Prologue] “Arise.”

The Shadow Monarch’s voice reverberated through the room, deep and commanding, shattering the silence like fragile glass. Clear and resonant, his words echoed off the stone walls, lingering as though the air itself sought to hold onto them. The sound was low and powerful, vibrating faintly, giving the room a brief sense of life before the quiet crept back in.

A translucent window appeared in the air, the oppressive dark aura blanketing the ground retreating like mist. Once again, the extraction had failed. [Soul Extraction failed. 1/3 attempts remaining.]

Jin-Woo’s cold gaze flickered down to the lifeless figure lying on the ground. He exhaled deeply, raising his hand again.

“Is this truly where you wish to meet your end?” he asked, his eyes beginning to glow faintly. His voice was the only thing animating the desolate room. Vines crawled up the cracked stone walls, fractured beams of sunlight piercing through the shattered ceiling above. It looked like an abandoned boss chamber—ancient extinguished torches lined the walls, weapon gouges marred the hard stone—but there was no trace of life to be found. Not even the body before him radiated vitality.

So why couldn’t he extract her shadow?

Had it been too long since this monster’s death? Monsters decayed, yet her body showed no signs of rot. Only the deep lacerations across her skin, the missing heartbeat, and the faint, oppressive aura around her gave away the truth—she was dead.

“What a pitiful end,” he murmured. Jin-Woo didn’t expect a response, but something about her unnerved him enough to speak aloud, as though testing the air for answers.

“Arise,” he commanded once more, his hand tightening into a fist as though he could will her soul to obey.

The black smoke coiled around the lifeless body, intertwining with the tendrils rising from her chest. Slowly, the shadow took shape. Jin-Woo’s lips curled into a victorious smirk as the dark form solidified into the outline of a woman. Her glowing white eyes locked onto nothingness, the telltale mark of a newly risen shadow.

The system window popped up again, prompting for a name. Jin-Woo glanced at his latest recruit, who now knelt before him, one leg folded beneath her and the other bent upright. Her gaze remained forward, never meeting his.

“You belong to my Shadow Army now,” Jin-Woo declared, lowering his hand. “From this day on, you will serve me and obey my commands.”

He pondered briefly, then began typing a name into the prompt. Just as his finger hovered over the “Confirm” button, the window glitched, flickering erratically before closing. The chosen name replaced by another. [Y/N]

“No.”

The voice was so faint it barely registered. Jin-Woo paused, convinced he must have imagined it. Yet, before he could dismiss the notion, the shadows surrounding her physical body dissipated, retreating into the darkness along with the lifeless form on the ground.

“What?” His voice was sharp, his composure slipping for an instant as the word lingered in disbelief.

“No.” The second time was louder, firmer. The shadowy figure began to rise, her form shifting. The darkness coating her crumbled away, replaced by color. Her eyes, once glowing white, now gleamed a vibrant shade of [E/C], locked onto his in defiance. Her hair, [H/C], shimmered with an unnatural vitality, stark against the bleak surroundings.

Jin-Woo’s usually impassive expression flickered with subtle astonishment. A shadow capable of speech? Only Beru had ever displayed such an ability.

He cast his gaze toward the floating information above her:

Name: [Y/N] Level: ???

He couldn’t read her level. And she already had a name.

A tense silence filled the space, his dark aura intensifying until even Igris, his loyal Blood-Red Commander, shivered. Yet, [Y/N] stood unflinching, her jaw tight as she met Jin-Woo’s penetrating stare. Despite the icy dread running down her spine, an unyielding resolve kept her rooted. She refused to kneel.

“I refuse,” she ground out through clenched teeth, watching as the black-haired man’s glowing eyes narrowed into sharp slits. Her voice was thin but steady.

Before she could react, he had grabbed her chin and leaned down toward her; after all, he was a good head taller than she was. His grip was firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to convey his dominance. His hands were icy cold. Could shadows even feel such sensations? His face was mere inches from hers, and his piercing gaze sent a cold shiver crawling up her limbs.

[You are forbidden from harming your master.]

The window that briefly popped up caught her eye for a moment before her gaze returned to the Shadow Monarch’s icy stare.

“What was that?” he asked in a deep voice, as though his physical intimidation and the flicker in his glowing eyes could compel her to reconsider her defiance in light of what he was capable of.

“Say that again,” he growled, his tone icy and measured, daring her to reconsider. He was giving her one more chance to retract her initial refusal and do what—at least in his mind—was the only correct thing. [Y/N] stared at him for a moment. Her irritation over the situation gradually gave way to anger, which settled heavily in her chest. Who did he think he was? More importantly, who did he think she was? ... Who was she?

But there was no time to dwell on that thought, as the Shadow Monarch grew impatient. He made this clear with a brief but painful squeeze of his hand. But her defiance didn’t falter. “I. Refuse.” The words were deliberate, slow, and unwavering.

For the first time, Jin-Woo felt something beyond annoyance—curiosity laced with disbelief. Never had a shadow disobeyed him. His dominion was absolute. So why did she stand so boldly against him?

“You’re either very brave or very foolish,” he said, his voice low as his violet eyes flickered dangerously. “Do you even realize who I am?”

Her lips curled into a faint smirk. “When you’re dead, titles lose their meaning. Honestly, nothing really matters anymore.”

For a fraction of a second, Jin-Woo’s stoic mask slipped. Her words, blunt and logical, were disconcerting. Yet his pride demanded he reassert his authority.

“If you won’t obey me, I have no use for you,” he declared coldly. “I’ll kill you again a second time”

“Go ahead.” Her voice dropped to a whisper, her expression challenging. “I have nothing to lose.” Something in her tone—half daring, half resigned—made Jin-Woo hesitate. The tension between them crackled like static, thick enough to choke. Shadows coiled at his feet, thick as ink, creeping toward her like serpents. Yet, as they reached her, they paused, lingering for a moment as though recognizing her as one of their own before retreating.

Even Jin-Woo couldn’t deny what he had just witnessed. Releasing her chin, he let out a heavy sigh, his energy dissipating as the oppressive weight in the room lifted.

This was no ordinary shadow.

The shadows retreated as quickly as they had appeared, his eyes returning to their cool gray, and the immense energy he exuded vanished entirely.

He couldn’t simply let the chance of having a powerful shadow slip away, even if her lack of respect infuriated him to no end. The fact that he couldn’t determine her rank and that she didn’t yield to his will suggested she must be strong.

[Y/N] exhaled in relief; the whole ordeal hadn’t left her unscathed, but she was incredibly fortunate that the black-haired man hadn’t killed her on the spot. Despite her earlier words, she really didn’t want to die again.

His cold expression remained unchanged, but his gaze lingered on the [H/C]-haired woman, who stared back at him blankly.

Her appearance was human—different from his other shadows. She had color, glowing eyes, and if not for the name and lack of rank floating above her head, he wouldn’t have even guessed she was part of his army.

“Let me put it another way: as the one who revived you, you don’t have a choice but to follow my commands. So stop being so stubborn and just obey,” he said, his voice slicing through the silence as he crossed his arms over his chest.

Stubborn? Me? Does he even listen to himself? [Y/N] thought.

“Clearly, we’re both stubborn,” she stated , rubbing her chin, which still bore faint pressure marks from his firm grip.

She didn’t notice the faint flicker of concern in his eyes. Did he hurt her?

“If you’d stop being stubborn and accept that you can’t just go around resurrecting people and making them your slaves,” she retorted, earning another angry glare from the black-haired man. He at least seemed to accept that physical intimidation wasn’t going to work on her.

Jin-Woo turned slightly away from her and opened the window displaying the current number of his shadows.

“I revived you for a reason. You are now part of my army and will serve me. End of discussion.”

[Y/N] laughed humorlessly—a cynical laugh. He still didn’t get it.

She rolled her eyes, though there was that peculiar feeling in her chest—a strange connection that had been there since her resurrection. It felt more like a tether pulling at her core, drawing her toward him.

But she didn’t feel compelled to obey him—so why should she?

“Nope, as long as you act like an asshole, I’m not even going to consider it.”

The Shadow Monarch froze mid-movement, shooting her a deadly side-eye.

Did she just insult him?

His frustration grew with every passing second. No one had ever defied him like this, especially not someone he had revived.

“And why should I be nice to you? You’re the one defying me here. You’re the one refusing to obey me. What have you done to deserve my kindness when all you’ve shown me is disrespect?” he said.

[Y/N] responded without thinking, “You reap what you sow.”

Yes, he was an asshole, and she couldn’t stand him, but her reaction wasn’t exactly the best icebreaker either. Besides, they were both in a pretty crappy situation, and it wouldn’t get any better if they kept clashing.

Plus—what choice did she have? She had no idea who or what she was, where she was, or where she was supposed to go.

A resigned sigh escaped her lips, and her tense posture relaxed a little.

“Maybe... just maybe, we got off on the wrong foot,” she said, her voice softening slightly, almost innocent—though theatrically so.

The Shadow Monarch was once again surprised by her words. She had personality—and plenty of it, apparently.

He could insist that she was his shadow and that he was therefore superior to her, but what would be the point in the end? Perhaps it was time to swallow his pride and admit he might have been wrong.

Maybe he had simply spent too much time alone, consumed by his role as the Shadow Monarch, losing whatever social skills he once had.

His expression remained cool for a moment longer before his features softened slightly, and he scratched the back of his head. “That’s an understatement,” he muttered, reflecting on how he was almost the cause of her second death. [Y/N]’s eyes lit up slightly. Had she just detected a hint of humor in his voice?

His tone had lost some of its anger, which gave her a bit of relief.

“Okay. What am I even supposed to do, and where the hell are we anyway?” she asked, glancing around the room and taking it in. She knew she had seen this place before—clearly, it was where she had died—but it didn’t feel familiar. Jin-Woo, still a bit taken aback by her sudden cooperation, followed her gaze.

“We’re in a dungeon,” he said matter-of-factly. He really didn’t share more than he absolutely had to, did he? As for what she was supposed to do? Well, his shadows usually fought for him, but what about her? She had no weapon and didn’t seem magically inclined—at least he couldn’t sense any significant mana coming from her.

“Follow me. That’s enough for now,” he finally said, turning on his heel. His cloak lifted slightly with the abrupt movement before settling back down.

Jin-Woo didn’t look back, his footsteps silent on the cold stone floor. The young woman hesitated for a moment, but the invisible force seemed to nudge her forward, almost pushing her to follow him. She let out another frustrated sigh. “Okay,” she said, taking a few quick steps to catch up with him, though she stayed a few meters behind. “I’ll follow you,” she said after a brief pause. “But I won’t follow your orders blindly. If a command seems pointless to me, I’ll refuse,” she added—a compromise she could live with. Jin-Woo stopped abruptly, nearly causing her to bump into him. He paused, processing her words. For a moment, he hesitated. With a sigh, his expression softened slightly. “Fine. I’ll accept your compromise,” he said, reluctantly agreeing to her terms. “But if your reason for refusing seems pointless to me, don’t expect my mercy,” he added without glancing at her and continued walking. Though he was satisfied with this for now, there were limits—even for her.

What had he gotten himself into? ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

[artemisia-musings]

Lessons in Self-Destruction

Minors DNI! 18+ only

This is a dark fic! Please read the tags and if any bother you please do not read! I am not responsible for your media consumption. 

Summary: Leon was content destroying himself. Drinking his troubles away, eager to put himself in an early grave. One night, a girl approaches him at the bar and the rest of the night is a blur. He awakens to the consequences of his drunken antics. 

Tags/Warnings: Fem reader, no use of Y/N, dark themes, suicidal thoughts, drinking, reference to non-con. Overall depressing!

Note: This is my first fic, sorry for any errors/incorrect grammar. Got this idea after watching Vendetta and I needed to get it out. I literally have not been able to think of anything but Leon in like two months <3 more fics in the works!

Destroying himself came easily to Leon. It was easy to implode, to feel the life fade out of him. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to die or feel nothing, he supposed there wasn’t much difference. All his life he had felt too much. Too much pain and heartbreak, his soul beaten and battered, every time he tried to stand back up and be the good guy he was always swiftly reminded that he didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. He was a pawn, a puppet controlled and jerked around by his cruel masters. He hadn’t been in control of his own life in damn near twenty years. Forced from his dream of being a cop over an event he couldn’t control, whisked away and trained to be a good little boy for the government. Kill this, save them, destroy that, sit boy, stay boy, roll over and fetch. Good boy. How many people did he have to kill for this to be over? How many people did he have to watch die? How many friends must he lose? It was the same damn plot over and over again, his life one broken record he was forced to replay. 

The man groaned and grasped the cheap glass he had set on the table, swinging back a hefty gulp of whiskey that burned just right on the way down. He was currently on his fifth drink of the night, hitting that sweet spot between tipsy and piss drunk. His head was spinning ever so slightly as he noticed his cup was getting awfully low. He gestured for the bartender to pour him another, feeling especially sorry for himself tonight. It was becoming his new favorite hobby. There was something so delightfully pathetic about heading down to the sleazy bar by his house and drinking himself stupid, to the point where he could almost forget about how much he fucking hated his life. The bartender, whom for the life of him, Leon could not remember the name of despite coming here almost every night, poured him another glass of Jack Daniels, a bemused expression on his face as he slid it over. 

“There you go, bud,” the bartender chuckled, turning away to help another customer who had sauntered over to the bar. 

The sound of the chuckle made Leon tense. His grip tightened around the glass as he huffed in annoyance. Bud. What did it take to earn a little damn respect? He was a hero, after all. An American hero, a patriot to his core. At least, that’s what he told himself on his more sober days. He was just a sacrificial lamb, a tool used to stop the evils threatening this nation—a weapon pulled out when ordinary soldiers and guns wouldn’t suffice. His jaw clenched as he wallowed in misery, raising the glass to his lips and knocking back its contents in one go.

“Bad day?” a feminine voice called out, breaking through his angst-fueled state. Leon flickered his gaze over next to him, eyeing up the young girl who had sat next to him at the bar. He hadn’t even noticed her presence, too self-absorbed in his own brooding. She looked out of place in the rundown dive bar, sticking out like a sore thumb among the fellow drunk middle-aged men who frequented these establishments. She looked young and fresh, a daisy among a garden of rot.

“You could say that,” Leon said with a dry chuckle, letting his gaze rake up and down her form. A tight shirt and a cute skirt. A tantalizing treat, designed to tease. She really ought to know better walking into a place like this dressed like that. Someone could get the wrong idea. He raised an eyebrow, feeling a warmth spread in his gut that hadn’t stirred in ages. “Now what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” 

The girl smiled, her glossy lips curling upwards as she brought her glass to her lips. She sipped its pink contents, the fruity concoction’s appearance alone was enough to make Leon feel queasy. “New to the neighborhood, I thought I’d check out the local watering hole,” she said with a shrug. 

Leon felt himself smile, probably his first genuine smile in ages. “Well if you're looking for overpriced drinks you’ve hit the jackpot” he huffed, waving the bartender over for another round. The girl giggled, the sound ringing in his ears. It was cute, an almost peaceful sound akin to a babbling brook or waves crashing on a beach. He felt himself relax slightly, his heart even skipping a beat. He knew he shouldn’t be feeling this way, he had well over a decade on this girl. She looked college-aged or at the very least freshly graduated. She had the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed naivety to her, the world not having beaten it out of her yet. 

“So what happened?” she asked, tilting her head as she studied him. He raised a quizzical eyebrow at her, his inebriated mind struggling to catch up. “You said you had a bad day,” she explained further.

“That I did, although you could say the past few years have been rough,” he admitted. 

“Well, I’ve been told I’m a good listener,” she pressed, resting her forearms on the bar counter as she leaned in closer, enough for him to smell the sweet fragrance of her perfume and to see the way her breasts squished together showing off her cleavage. Good Lord, she had to be aware of what she was doing. 

“Oh honey, that story would take a while to tell, you don’t wanna listen to some random drunk prattle on about his problems,” he said, shaking his head at her.

“Try me” she retaliated. Leon took a sip of the drink, feeling his cock stir in his pants as he turned to face her, trying his hardest not to let his gaze travel downwards. He could feel himself growing more intoxicated with each second, his inebriated mind growing desperate. Desperate for what though, that was the question. Someone to lend an ear while he bitched and moaned about how much he wanted to kill himself? The tender loving embrace of someone who cared about him? Did he crave the sinful indulgence of a lover? All of them combined? He didn’t know this girl, but looking at her calm collected self, feeling the warmth of her skin, and smelling the sweetness of her breath, he thinks he’d like to know her.

"When I was a kid, I used to think about the kind of man I'd grow up to be... I never thought my life would turn out this way." Leon shook his head, trying to find the words he wanted to say. Vulnerability was not his forte. “Have you ever thought about what happened in your life to make it all go wrong? About what you could have possibly done in your past life to make you deserve this? Do you know what it's like to not be the one in control?” Leon shook his head, feeling a lump form in his throat, emotion building up within him. He hated acknowledging his feelings, made him feel weak, which he was, he just hated admitting it. 

The girl gave him a soft sympathetic look, her small manicured hand reaching out and touching him gently. Leon hated pity, but he did appreciate the attempt at comfort. It wasn’t something he got a lot of. “I’m sure you did nothing to deserve this, you seem like a good man…” she trailed off, unsure of his name. “The world can be a fucked up place,” she murmured.

“Darlin’ you don’t even know the half of it” Leon scoffed, his larger calloused hand engulfing hers. He couldn’t explain what he was feeling, it was like some primal arousal in his gut, a heady warmth that caused him to shift restlessly in his seat. “And the name is Leon,” he added.

The girl seemed oblivious to his growing arousal, her hand squeezing his own gently as she gave him her name. “You don’t have to carry it alone, Leon. Everyone needs someone to talk to.”

“Dangerous words,” he chuckled dryly, pulling his hand away, his fingers reaching around the edge of the glass. "You're real eager, huh?" He leaned in, his breath heavy with whiskey. "You think you can fix me with your pretty smile and sweet talk?"

She didn’t pull back, her curled lips forming a knowing smile. There was something in the way she looked at him—like she wasn't afraid of the darkness in him. 

She should be.

“I ain’t trying to fix you, just understand you,” her voice took on a more flirtatious edge, 

Leon reached for his glass, his hand trembling slightly as he brought it to his lips. His throat burned, but it wasn’t just the whiskey. The girl’s presence was like fire—too close, too hot, and it was starting to scorch him. The fire licked at his subconscious, urging him for more, craving the burn. 

"Don’t do this," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "You don’t know what you’re messing with."

She leaned in even closer, her lips brushing his ear. The heat of her breath was enough to make him dizzy, the combination of the alcohol and his pent-up desire made his head spin.

"Maybe I like danger," she whispered.

Leon could have snapped right then, grabbed her by the waist, and smashed his lips to hers in the middle of the bar for all to see. Instead, he took another gulp of his drink to calm his raging nerves. “You shouldn’t have said that sweetheart.”

The thing about drinking is that it’s a dangerous game. It starts slowly, a warm, fuzzy feeling, a dull hum that spreads through his limbs and brain after that first drink. At first, it’s like floating in a cloud, where the world feels distant and a little dreamy. His thoughts would become sluggish, and the edges of reality blur, but he didn’t mind because the numbness felt like a sweet relief. He could finally forget about his problems and the trauma that plagued him. The more he drank, the more the voices in his head became muffled, as if he was submerged underwater. For a brief while, everything was easy.

Then, the descent begins.

It's a shift he can never feel coming. The transition from a dream-like state to a nightmare. He became less aware and less in control of his own body. It was like he was no longer in the driver's seat, being shoved into the passenger side, forced to watch. Then the world would start to spin, and he was no longer in the front of the car at all, he was trapped in the dark of the trunk, blissfully unaware as his subconscious took over.

When Leon finally awakens from his drunken stupor he feels a warmth he isn’t used to feeling in his bed. The pounding in his head was throbbing, enough to make his teeth ache. He groaned, pinching his nose as he forced himself to sit up. That’s when he heard it.

That shrill feminine whine.

His heart rate speeds up, his breath hitching in his throat as he finally opens his eyes, turning to see a girl in his bed. Leon isn’t exactly a stranger to one-night stands, he doesn’t make a habit out of it, but sometimes if he feels desperate enough he’ll allow himself to indulge. 

If a one-night stand is an indulgence, he must have been overcome with gluttony last night.

The girl from the bar last time is next to him. Naked and handcuffed to his headboard, her lacy panties shoved in her mouth. She looks at him with wide fearful eyes, glassy and red-rimmed as if she had been crying. Purple hickies and bite marks are littering her skin and Leon notices what appears to be dried cum stains on her stomach and thighs. He lets out a low guttural groan, hands covering his eyes as he tries to calm his racing heart. He hears muffled cries, her body jerking next to his. Slowly, he removes the used panties from her mouth, the girl gagging slightly. 

“Please,” she whimpers softly. “Please let me go, I won’t tell anyone I promise.” Her lower lip is trembling and her eyes are getting watery as if she is about to start crying again. Leon feels a pang in his chest, like a knife to the heart. She’s looking at him like he’s a monster, and he supposes now he is. 

Leon had always thought that despite the woes of his life, despite the fact he would never get any recognition for his work, at least he was a good guy. But as the naked and chained girl in his bed starts to cry, Leon doesn’t feel like a good guy anymore.

“Doll,” he starts, his hand tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ears, feeling all the more like scum when she flinches away from him. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry I never met for this to happen.” Leon shakes his head, feeling his own eyes start to get watery. Fuck was he about to cry? “This isn’t me, I wouldn’t do this.” But he did, the evidence of his assault is chained up right next to him. The pair sit next to each other and cry. The girl’s cries are fearful little sobs, the kind that leaves your whole body trembling. Leon’s cries are more subdued, his shoulders twitching as small huffs leave his lips, tears escaping from his shut eyes. 

He tries to remember what happened between leaving the bar last night and waking up to this. He can see bits and pieces, stills of his dark drunken escapade, but can’t see the full picture. A flash of ripping her clothes, scattering the ratty remnants on the floor. He remembers her pained face as he thrust into her, blood coating his cock. The image of his hand gripping her throat with wanton abandon was burned into his mind. Leon felt disgust brew inside him, disgust at himself. He had gotten blackout drunk more times than he could count, however, it normally ended in him passing out in the bathroom of the bar or getting into a fistfight in the alley. Never before had he thought he was capable of such atrocities. He was a monster through and through. 

Like a child seeking comfort, Leon leans closer to the girl, resting his head on her chest as he cries. His arms wrap around her torso as he clings to her like a koala bear clinging to its mother. It’s pathetic really, but the sound of her heartbeat soothes him, and despite the hell he must have put her through last night she still smells good. A hint of her perfume lingered on her skin along with her sweet musky scent. Eventually, his cries subdued as Leon lay curled into the girl. He hadn’t even noticed she had stopped crying as well, a sad almost remorseful look on her face. 

Leon knows the right thing to do would be to let her go, either hope she stays true to her word or face the consequences of his actions. Maybe deep down he’s scared of facing those consequences, he wouldn’t receive a trial, jail time and community service weren’t an option for him. No, he’d be put down like old yeller. It’s been an invisible threat hanging over his head since 1998. Obey or die. He knew too much and had seen too much, to ever be considered a normal citizen again. If he let this girl go, he might as well put a bullet in his brain now.

He had fantasized about killing himself for quite some time now. The ultimate choice of free will, the only way he could think of to rebel against his masters. He could pull the trigger and be free of it all. The only reason he hadn’t after Racoon City was because of Sherry. She had been a child, alone and a prisoner like him. It would have been cruel to leave her by herself. But Sherry was all grown up now, an agent like himself. She was a good kid who didn’t need him anymore. 

It would be so easy to be free of this all. He’s got a loaded Ruger in his nightstand, and he hears it's a fast escape. A bang, a second of pain and he’d be a free man. Uncuff the girl, and let her run home to lick her wounds while he atones for his crime.

The selfless thing to do would be to let this girl go and accept his fate. However, as he snuggled up into her bare chest, Leon had a dark thought flicker through his mind. He was tired of being selfless, always putting others before himself. No, he deserved this. It was a disgusting thought he knew, but part of him felt as though he was owed a sliver of comfort. She could be that warmth he so desperately craved. A new reason to keep on going.  

“I can’t let you go” he whispers against her skin, his arms tightening around her. “Won’t hurt you though, don’t worry” he assured her. The girl tensed underneath him, eyeing him warily as though she didn’t believe him. Why should she? After all, he was the one who had gotten blackout drunk and assaulted her. 

He hesitates before pressing a kiss to her collarbone, a quick gentle peck, a crumb of condolence and affection. She doesn’t say anything, she just looks at him with sorrowful eyes. 

“I’m not a bad guy” he whispers, mostly to himself as he settles back down in the valley of her breasts. 

“I know” she whispers back, letting her head rest against the headboard. Leon feels a tear roll down his cheek. He had been content with destroying himself, never had he thought his dream of self-destruction would involve dragging someone else into his nightmare.

Note: Holy shit dude I finally posted it! Shout out to my friends for bullying me into finally posting, literally so nervous imma puke <<33

[thecoffinsys]

Slay the Princess is the perfect demonstration of trauma, dissociation, and systemhood.

I NEED MORE PEOPLE TO TALK ABOUT THIS. And it's NOT just for the reasons you may think. Yes, it is due to the multitude of voices, but that isn't all there is to systemhood. Slay the Princess dives into almost every fundamental stage of grief, trauma, stress, and body sensations regarding traumatic events that we as a collective have ever experienced. Stay with me.

SYSTEMHOOD

Not only does Slay the Princess display systemhood through the multitude of voices, inability to come to a conclusion on outerbody decisions, and having different methods of how to survive specific situations— it also displays systemhood through loss of time, depersonalization, loss of identity and sense of self, alters having abilities over the body that others do not, looping the same trauma over and over again, and rapidly splitting due to traumatic experiences — even down to not being believed by family members when you tell them something horrible happened to you.

The entire idea of jumping from one alternative world to the next after dying or making the incorrect choice perfectly displays a repetition of the same traumatic memory over and over again, the mind trying to logistically think of what could have been done differently as a means of coping with what really happened. When you fail to save the world in one reality, your mind restarts the entire scenario again, trying to find a better option to the mistake you've already made.

The Stranger rout perfect displays depersonalization, dissociation, loss of self and identity, and confusion regarding time. The second you step down a staircase, you completely and utterly forget yourself in the mundane action. Forgetting who you are, where you are, what your purpose truly is - and sinking deep within your own mind, until suddenly you're right where you are meant to be and have no memory of how you got there. It's so perfect in how it shows the confusion and distress.

This game is about becoming. whole. Gaining. A sense. Of self. And purpose. Gaining more perspectives, more understandings of what it means to be a person. (Oh my god I'm screaming)

In The Nightmare, the voice of the Paranoid displays perfectly symptoms of not only paranoia regarding trauma, but symptoms of OCD due to trauma. He has an ability that no other alter has, which is to keep their organs running by participating in his own compulsion. Which really displays how some alters have abilities that other do not, because to be a system, you must be fragmented. Several shards of glass attempting, to the best of their ability, to be a functional mirror- but never having the exact strength. And different shards will hold different capabilities than those who are smaller, weaker, and carry smaller and/or more specific burdens. Paranoid is a very big shard, I think.

Following that — mirrors are a huge motif of the game. Not only do you continuously see them in every rout, but you end each rout by finally looking at yourself and seeing you for you. And the more perspectives you gain, the less "you" you truly feel. You become tired, withered. But it is all in the efforts to "become whole". To make this being of perception finally understand what it means to be more than just broken worlds creating branching understandings.

In A Moment of Clarity, dozens of voices begin to cloud our understanding due to the very traumatic thing we experienced in the last world. A rapid split because of trauma! We become more broken; "losing ourselves". Now there are even more conflicting thoughts, feelings, and opinions regarding how we should go about surviving- and it displays our further descent from our sense of self. Which is ironic given the name of the ending!

And finally (but most definitely not finally, I could keep going on and on but no one would want to read all of that), The Narrator never believing you when you tell him you've been here before, have experienced horrors that he could never imagine, and have been through countless nightmares. But not only does he not believe you, he will also ridicule your idea, and go on to say "you failed because you didn't listen to me" or "you damned another world because of what you did". Puts the blame on us, once again. It's the same thing a lot of systems do experience in the real world. You try to reach out, you try to explain to someone you trust that something horrible happened to you, but you're met with disbelief and shamed for your own trauma. Made to feel like the guilty one when you are in fact the victim- the survivor. That one stood out to me very personally.

. . .

I really want to go on but this is already a billion paragraphs and I worry no one will even get this far. But this game means a lot to us as a system and as someone who experiences things very similar to what is displayed in the game on a daily basis. Slay the Princess might be one of our all time favorite games as of right now, especially considering the guy who traumatized us for 200 episodes straight is the main guy voicing the entire thing- that also helps with sentiment-

Uhhhh thank you for reading if you made it this far :]

[spnhunter4life]

Not So Bad

Summary: Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

Masterlist

I sighed as I flipped through the pages of the dusty old book I’d picked up out of a mix of nerves and boredom. The Winchester boys and I were in New York of all places. I hated it here. The constant loud noise of the bustling city, the air that was so far from the fresh country air I’d grown used to at the bunker, and, worst of all, the tall buildings that blocked out the sky mixing with the thick crowds of people made me feel severely claustrophobic. 

But there was a monster here that needed to be killed, and the Winchesters always went where they were needed. And wherever they went, I went. So here I was, sitting in the library while the brothers went off to kill the thing. It was some sort of demi god named Daemon. 

I’d never been much of one for fighting. I preferred to be the designated researcher, helping out in a mental capacity instead of physical. Both brothers insisted I at least learn basic self defense and worked with me on occasion, wanting me to be able to defend myself if the worst were to happen, but they never pushed me to come face down monsters with them.

The book I was currently looking through was one of the three I’d been able to find in this library about Daemon. I’d already found the information I was looking for and reported it to the Winchesters. But now my options were to sit here and wait for the hunt to be over so the boys could come pick me up, or make my way back to the motel on my own, and I was perfectly comfortable where I was. Or at least, comfortable enough that it wasn’t worth braving the crowded streets.

I turned another page, skimming the words quickly, barely absorbing what I was reading. Somewhere in the back of my mind I made the distant realization that I was in a library and could go find a more interesting book to pass the time. I didn’t give the idea much thought, knowing that it would be difficult to lose myself in a book when my boys were in danger. I knew how long they’d been living this life and how capable they were, but that didn’t make it any less scary anytime they took off. I knew every time could be the last, and I didn’t take that for granted. 

I was about to close the book and at least find something to occupy myself that wasn’t a detailed explanation of the very thing the boys were facing down, when the sentence I’d just read actually registered in my mind. With a sharp inhale, my eyes darted back to the beginning of the paragraph.

It is a common misconception that Daemon is susceptible to oak stakes dipped in lamb’s blood – a rumor no doubt started by the mischievous deity himself – which is actually quite harmless to him. What most do not know is that Daemon is not a demigod at all, but the offspring of a demon and a faerie. As such, his one and only weakness is a silver blade dipped in holy water.

The blood drained from my face. I’d given the boys the wrong information and now they were off to face an angry demigod – or faerie demon hybrid, apparently – with weapons that may as well have been toothpicks for all the use they would be. 

How could I have been stupid enough to not double check the information? I should know better than that!

I didn’t have time to wonder if maybe this bit of information was the incorrect one. Something in my gut told me it was right, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk letting them go to their deaths, thinking they had the upper hand. I pulled my phone out and immediately dialed Sam’s number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cursing quietly to myself, I tried Dean instead. Voicemail again.

Fear for my boys overrode everything else. They were all I had left in the world and I absolutely could not lose them. I couldn’t live without my sweet, steady Sam. He was an invaluable source of knowledge on all topics imaginable and he had a calm, comforting disposition that seemed to instantly ease everyone in his vicinity. His sense of humor may not have been as pronounced as Dean’s, but I appreciated it just the same and wondered what would happen if I never got to hear his laugh or see his smile again. 

And Dean. I couldn’t even let myself think what all I would be losing if he was gone. To an outsider, our relationship looked perfectly polite and comfortable. And it was, I suppose – we always got along well and never had a bad word to say to each other – if not a little strained. Although, that may have been just on my end. He never did seem to feel the tension that I did. I couldn’t blame him for not noticing either. After all, I did everything I could to keep him from knowing just how much I cared for him. Just how much I loved him.

Without stopping to think about it, I quickly exited the library and rushed out into the crowded streets I so despised. I ran in the direction of Daemon’s lair – we had known its location since early in the investigation and had only been working on the details of how to kill him – roughly shoving through crowds of people when necessary. 

I was severely winded by the time I reached the abandoned building that Daemon resided in. I was panting in short breaths that seemed to fill my lungs with fire. I didn’t have time to stop though. I spotted the Impala parked in the alley and fumbled a key out of my pocket. I threw the trunk open, grabbed a silver knife and poured a generous helping of holy water over it. I barely remembered to slam the trunk shut before rushing inside. 

I slowed down once I was inside. The building was large and I had no idea where any of the current occupants might be. I was just peeking around an open door, knife held at the ready, when a huge crash followed by a yell of pain sounded off to my right. My heart stopped. That was Dean. 

Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok. And Sam too. Let them both be ok, I pleaded to any god who would listen.

I crept as quickly and quietly towards the sound of distress as I could, sounds of a fight leading me there. Fear like I’d never felt before ran like ice through my veins, but kept me moving forward. I rounded a corner and felt my heart stop again before picking up a racing rhythm at what I saw. Sam was sprawled on the ground. He’s only unconscious, I told myself. The alternative was unacceptable. Across the room was Dean, pinned to a wall by Daemon, straining to break the hybrid’s grip and thrust his oak stake into its side. Daemon clearly had the upper hand and wrenched the stake away from him, throwing it behind him. I barely stopped myself from calling out Dean’s name. 

“You think you can kill me? A puny man, kill a god?” Daemon spat, the rage clear in his voice. 

I charged towards them, knife raised and ready. I was only a few steps away when Dean saw me over Daemon’s shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise before he could stop the involuntary reaction. I saw him immediately look away again, not wanting to give me away, but it was too late. Daemon had seen it. He whirled around to face me and knocked me aside without a thought. It was as easy as if he’d been swatting at an irritating fly. Dean yelled my name just as I collided with the wall. My breath, which I hadn’t even quite gotten back after my long sprint here, left me in a whoosh. 

I watched in fascination and horror as Dean took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush at Daemon. He kicked his legs out from under him before climbing on top of him, pinning him to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds before Dean was able to snatch the oak stake from where it had been discarded on the ground. 

“No, Dean! The knife!” I yelled to him. I had dropped it at some point between Daemon’s blow and hitting the wall. Dean didn’t question me, didn’t hesitate before dropping the useless weapon and searching for the knife. But it was out of his reach and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to hold Daemon down much longer. I started to struggle to my feet to grab it for him, but before I was able to, a large body ran into my line of sight, blocking my view of Dean, and stooping to pick up the knife. 

I tensed, terrified that there was some unknown second thing to deal with now, but soon realized it was only Sam. He picked up the knife and turned to his brother. Without speaking a word to each other, Dean rolled out of the way just as Sam plunged the knife down into the heart of the monster. 

Dean was red faced and breathing hard – and who could blame him after wrestling with a being with supernatural strength – but otherwise seemed alright, so I turned my attention to Sam who was closer and who I worried could have any number of injuries after being knocked unconscious. 

“Sam, are you-”

“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded. Stunned at the hardness of his voice, I turned to look at him and realized that what I’d mistaken for exertion was actually anger. He was livid. I’d never seen him so angry, at least not with me. Why was he angry? This completely unexpected reaction left me feeling small and confused.

“What?” I asked. “What do you mean? I was just trying-” 

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” He yelled. He took a step in my direction and a grimace crossed his face as his leg seemed to struggle slightly under his weight. He grunted, the only sound he would let escape. I remembered his yell, the noise that had guided me in this direction to begin with. He was hurt. Dean, who sat stoically with teeth gritted, never letting more than a grunt escape while Sam dug bullets out of him or sewed up horrible gashes, had cried out in pain. That had scared me more than anything else tonight, the idea of how badly he must be hurt to not be able to hide it.

“Dean,” Sam started in a warning tone. He might have been about to defend me or to tell Dean to cool his temper so we could talk calmly, but I would never know. Anger flared up in me, completely overriding the confusion and uncertainty Dean’s words had caused. 

“Well you nearly were killed! So I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, isn’t it?” I shouted back. I wasn’t actually angry, I knew, just reliving the terror of the last half hour mixed with the relief of seeing them both ok and the worry at their injuries. In short, I was overwhelmed and Dean yelling at me had frayed my already shot nerves. 

“We would have been fine.” Dean deflected.

“No you wouldn’t have! When I got here Sam was on the ground, dead for all I knew, and you were hardly about to win in a battle of strength. And even if you had, your weapon was useless. You would have died!”

“You’re the one who decided you didn’t want to fight! And that’s fine, you know we’re ok with that. But you can’t just not train and then run into a fight with no idea what you’re doing!”

“Guys, maybe we should-” Sam tried again.

“No!” I yelled. I saw a look of surprised hurt in his eyes. I felt bad for snapping at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was too fired up to backtrack now. “If Dean hasn’t had enough of a fight tonight, then let’s fight! I may not be trained in hand to hand and weapons the way you are, but I assure you, I can yell at you all night long.”

Dean’s eyes narrowed and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw. 

“Sam, can you give us a minute?” He asked in a forced calm tone. 

Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of us before agreeing. “Alright. But you’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming back in after you to make sure you’re not strangling each other,” he warned before leaving the room.

We glared at each other for a minute, neither of us speaking. After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a moment, Dean started talking again in that tone that was an attempt at being calm, but I could clearly hear the tenseness and anger underneath.

“You can’t just-”

“You said that already,” I interrupted immediately. His jaw ticked again, and I knew shouting at him when he was trying to deescalate the situation was not appreciated. He tried again in that same infuriating tone, a little more strained this time.

“Sam and I hardly need you jumping in to protect us. We know what we’re doing.”

“That’s not the point!”

“Then what is?” He yelled back, patience worn thin.

“It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not because you couldn’t have won! I was doing some more reading after you guys left and I realized I gave you the wrong weapon.”

“Then you call us! You don’t come running in after us!”

“I did call you! Neither of you picked up! I couldn’t just sit there and wait for you to die!”

“Of course you could have! Don’t you think we’d rather take our chances with bad weapons than to have you in the line of fire?”

“What would you have done Dean?” I screamed at him. “If it were you sitting around knowing that I was going after a monster with a weapon that wouldn’t kill it? What would you have done?” I felt confident this would be the end of it. After all, there was no doubt in my mind what he would have done, and he couldn’t possibly deny it.

“That’s not the same thing,” he said. He was still angry, but he said this in a quieter voice, the kind of quiet that meant I’d truly struck a nerve. 

“Why?” I asked, ready to swoop in with the metaphorical killing blow and win the argument. “Because I can’t fight, so of course I’d need you to come save me?”

“No.”

“Hypothetically saying I was as well trained as you then. Or that it was Sam. The point still stands. You would have done exactly what I did. You wouldn’t just sit back and let us die, so why would I?”

“I told you, that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “How do you think we would feel if something happened to you? What if we couldn’t protect you and you got hurt?”

“How do you think I felt, Dean?” I stomped over to him, getting right in his face, letting him see how much I meant what I was saying. “I didn’t know if you would be alive or not when I got here.” I stopped for a breath, the intensity of the emotions I’d felt in that moment hitting me once again. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand what it would feel like. I know exactly what it feels like.”

“It’s not the same,” he said again, stubbornly.

“How is it not the same? If anything, it’s worse for me. You and Sam at least have each other. If I lose you guys, I have no one. I will not lose you. Do you understand me? If that means putting my own life on the line, I’m ok with that.” 

“I’m not!”

“Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it, because it’s my life, not yours!”

“You’re not understanding me! If you would just let me explain-”

But apparently I wouldn’t. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I just needed him to understand what I was saying. So I cut him off in the middle of his request that I not do so.

“No, I told you that I understand perfectly. It’s you who isn’t understanding! I’ve never been more scared in my whole life than I was when I heard you yelling in pain.” In the back of my mind, I registered that Dean’s expression had turned from anger to determination. But my brain didn’t seem to fully process this fact, not that I would have known what to do with that information even if I had. My emotions were driving me now, and there was no stopping the words pouring from my mouth.

“I thought that whatever happened, it must be really bad. And maybe I was too late to save you. And it’s my own stupid fault you needed saving in the first place. How could I-”

This time, Dean cut me off. It was only fair, after all I’d done the same to him. This was a much nicer, much more pleasant, much more unexpected way of interrupting though. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine. As my body seemed to be running on instinct and adrenaline right now, I responded immediately, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his demanding kiss with enthusiasm. 

I ran one of my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands between my fingers. My other hand ran down over his shoulder, to his bicep, then over to his chest, loving the strength I could feel in all those hard earned muscles. His hands were wandering too, in my hair one second, traveling over my back the next, and then on my waist.

My brain, which seemed to have shut down for the past few moments – minutes? – decided to start working again, practically screaming at me that this was Dean I was kissing. Dean, apparently experiencing the same returning brain function as me, pulled away. He took a careful step back, creating some space between us. That was probably good. I couldn’t think with him so close. Not after that. His cheeks were flushed red for a whole new reason now and his hair was sticking up in an annoyingly attractive way. I could see by the surprise in his eyes that he hadn’t been planning on the kiss being that intense. 

“It’s not the same,” he repeated, his voice as calm as if we were having a normal conversation on any old day. As if we hadn’t been arguing minutes before. As if he hadn’t just given me the most mind numbing, spine tingling kiss of my life. “Because I love you. And I know that that probably wasn’t the best way to go about telling you, but I need you to understand what it would mean to me to lose you. If you lost me, you’d lose a friend. It would suck, but you would move on. But you’re more than that to me, and I don’t know how I could survive losing you.”

“Have you not paid attention to a thing I said?” I asked him, taking a step forward to eliminate the space he’d put between us. “I told you, if I lost you and Sam I would have nothing.”

“Yeah, but that’s not really true. You could make more friends easily enough.”

“But you’re not just my friends. Sam is my best friend, true, but I love him like he’s my brother. Losing him would hurt me just as bad as losing an actual brother. And you… I couldn’t move on from you any easier than you could move on from me. I love you too.”

“Yeah,” Dean winced. “Like a brother. I know.”

“Not like a brother,” I said, wrinkling my nose a little. “Do you really think I would kiss you like that, or at all for that matter, if that’s how I thought of you?”

“I would hope not,” he agreed. 

“So, basically, you’ve been yelling at me this whole time about not understanding you when, in reality, I understand perfectly, just like I said from the beginning.” I couldn’t help but gloat a little at being right.

The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched slightly in a repressed smile. 

“You know, I think you owe me for scaring me nearly to death earlier,” he said happily.

“I owe you?” 

“Yes. When you came running in here I swear my heart stopped. And then I had to watch you get thrown across the room…” He winced at the memory and I could tell how upset it made him, but he quickly shook it off and kept up his cheerful tone. “I think you took at least three years off my life. Lucky for you I’ll take payment in kisses. One for every year less I’ll live thanks to you.”

Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part was too giddy to even care. 

“Alright,” I agreed easily. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. I wanted to continue the intense kiss from earlier, but there would be time for that later. This seemed like the appropriate response to his gentle, teasing tone. “There’s one.”

I kissed him again, and then once more, feeling like I could burst with joy the whole time. 

“There,” I said after the third kiss. “Does that make us even?”

“For now,” he smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll be finding lots of excuses for more in the future.”

“How’s this for an excuse? I think you took at least five years off my life. I’ll be needing some compensation here as well.”

He grinned. “And I fully intend to pay up. Once we’re home though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”

I was a little disappointed to have to be done kissing him. But I knew he was right. We should get out of here. I knew he was in pain, and I still didn’t know how Sam was doing. Besides, it was only a temporary stop. Once we were home I would have as much time with him as I wanted.

Home. Just the mention of it made me long for it even more. But even though I couldn’t wait to be back, even though I’d spent the whole time here waiting for the moment we could leave, the past few minutes with Dean had made the whole thing worth it. 

Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.

Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

[leascorner]

f.g.w. | Trouble

Summary:  After the war, Fred met Y/N at St Mungo's Hospital. At that time, they both thought the other was trouble. In the end, they both discovered all the meanings of that word.

Pairing:  Fred Weasley x f!healer!reader

Warnings: Mention of death and near death experience, injuries, blood, probably incorrect medical notions, some swearing, happy ending

Word Count: 5.1k

Masterlist

“Uh-oh”, George said, practically running from the front of the store up to the cashier counter. “Trouble.”

His twin brother had no time to ask what was going on; the doorbell rang, indicating a new customer had entered the shop. Fred blinked and suddenly, George was somehow nowhere to be seen. Steady steps coming up to the register resonated in the boutique that was as usual quite empty on this Tuesday morning. No need for him to look to the front door, he knew he was indeed up for trouble.

Turning to face his worst nightmare - a woman named Y/N, furiously making her way to him - Fred put his best customer face on. Her face was wearing the same frown as the day he met her at Saint Mungo's Hospital. He, that day, had been called in after some kid had used one of his products out of its original purpose and nobody there could work out how to reverse back the spell.

Holding his breath, Fred watched her walking toward him until she made it to the counter and laid on it what seemed to have been one of these kid magic wands they sold at the store. From the state of it, Fred knew he was in for a lecture… Again.

“This was up someone’s arse.”

“Godric!” Fred immediately shouted. He had seen a lot of things - their customers were somehow as inventive as they were - but he had never expected such things. With a swift move of his wrist, he made it disappear. “How did it even get there?”

“I did not ask!” she shouted back.

Y/N had been an official graduated healer for nearly a year now. She had started her curriculum the year before the war started, just after graduating from Hogwarts, and sometimes after a twenty-four-hours shifts like the one she just had, she was regretting the black magic spells injuries. Nothing compared to the lot of injuries she was dealing with from the twins jokes shop products.

“Seriously, please just-” she sighed, passing a hand on her face out of frustration. “It’s all I deal with all day, I can’t anymore.”

In that last year, Fred and she had become some kinds of acquaintances - Y/N was regularly paying the twins a visit at the end of her shifts. Though he acted annoyed most of the time, he was actually quite fond of her. His favourite thing about her was how she would respond to anything he would throw at her. He did not even know her that long, yet he already knew just how to push her buttons.

So, of course, he couldn’t resist doing it again today.

“You should see what we have in the works, then.”

Frown quite not leaving the lines of her face yet, she followed him in the back shop where he meticulously explained her all about this very new product he had thought about that same morning – a new invention that not even George knew about it.

Biting his inner cheek, he watched impatiently the line between her eyebrows grew even deeper as she read the parchment with the ingredients for the product: a potion. This was not the first time he had pitched a new product idea to her. In the past, George had even insisted they presented her with some of their riskier ideas. She had never turned down any of them, even encouraging them to work on them further - though she had them promise to send a patronus to her if they were testing anything she thought would be deadly. Fred was convinced that, despite her grumpy attitude, she actually quite enjoyed being asked for help.

“You can’t mix this quantity of octopus powder and erumpent horn together,” she finally spoke.

“Why not?”

Y/N looked back at Fred, her eyes scanning his face to know if he was being serious. As if he ever had been serious. “Have you seriously never listened to anything Snape ever taught you?” Quite frankly, he had listened to it much more than he would admit, but he wouldn’t tell her that. “I am serious, Fred,” she scowled.

“Alright, alright!” Fred rose his hands in defence. He knew from the way Y/N sighed that her concern for his own physical integrity was genuine. Just like probably everyone else, she was aware of what had happened to him during the battle of Hogwarts – he had a severe brain injury that left him in the hospital for months and from which he was still recovering. Unlike anyone else, she didn’t remind him constantly what a little fragile thing he was and how he must be taking it easy. Though he probably wouldn’t admit it to her face, he was grateful to her.

Fred was rather interested on what she was thinking of his new idea, so he knew better than to continue annoying her. She made him nervous taking her sweet time to examine the parchment. He couldn’t tell if it was a bad thing or not. She had been more enthusiastic when George and he pitched her other ideas. Perhaps he had just gotten himself overexcited about this new product; perhaps it was just bad.

“So, what do you think?” Fred asked when he couldn’t take it anymore.

“It sounds good,” she reassured him, without looking at him. “It’s the ingredients I am not sure about. I’m not sure it would work,” she mumbled, still focus on the parchment, and Fred could nearly see the cogs of her brain working behind her eyes.

“I’ll work on this,” he assured.

Y/N only nodded in answer. Fred could see something was bugging her, but she couldn’t quite tell what. He studied the expression of her face; how her frown had changed – from the grumpy one to one of             concentration. He noticed how she would scrunch her nose ever so slightly as she focused as well.

He thought she looked cute like that and immediately slapped himself internally for having such thoughts. Y/N was not cute, she was the pain in his ass that would show up every other day at the shop to lecture him. She was simply annoying and way smarter than him though she was not one to rub it in everybody’s face – he was pretty sure she had been that person to cry after a test as she supposedly failed, but still got an ‘A’.

They stayed in silence a couple more minutes, Y/N still trying to figure out what was missing in the potion recipe, Fred watching her every move, before the doorbell rang again. A new customer had come in, breaking the spell.

“I have to go,” Y/N stated, after checking the time. She gave the parchment back to Fred and watched as he abandoned him on top of his messy desks – it was so messy she wasn’t sure he would be able to find it again. “Just put some kinds of warning for the other thing.”

“External use only, got it.”

She rolled her eyes, but still smiled softly before bidding goodbye and leaving him alone in the back shop.

A few weeks later, on one of the last days of January, Fred had just finished the grant post-holidays inventory when he found the parchment again. With the rush of the end of the year, he had totally forgotten about it.

Diagon Alley was covered in snow at that time of the year and the weather was so bad that no soul would have dared to put even a toe outside in the cold. He knew he wouldn’t have any customers today, so he decided to put his time to a better use and test out this new product.

He gathered all of the ingredients from the reserve and got to work. Everything went well until it was down to the last ingredient: Octopus Powder. Taking the bag and measuring the exact amount he needed, he suddenly recalled the conversation he had with Y/N and how she insisted this amount of Octopus Powder would be too dangerous. He had heard her concern, yet he was still sure it was going to be fine.

Just before adding it to the mix, he finally had second thoughts; just in case, it wouldn't hurt to have a patronus ready. So, he reached out for his wand and materialized a patronus, requesting for it to find Y/N if anything was to happen to him. With his patronus magpie on his shoulder, he didn’t even think twice this time and poured the entire amount of powder in his cauldron. The mixture started boiling quite aggressively and Fred braced himself for it to explode, but nothing happened.

When the boiling stopped, his only thought was that he just couldn’t wait to tell Y/N how wrong she had been– though he wouldn’t admit it to her, but he still had sighed out of relief everything went fine. He turned to his patronus, ready to dismiss it as everything was fine.

He had barely taken his eyes off the potion that it suddenly exploded; his body was thrown into the air as if he was a paper doll.

“Can you tell me your name?”, Y/N asked as she made Fred follow the light coming out of her wand. He had been awake from the coma following his accident for a good thirty minutes now.

“Fredrick Gideon Weasley.”

Y/N nodded, watching him as she made another back-and-forth movement with her hand. Pupillary response to light, checked. Pupillary response to the dark, checked. Equal pupils’ size, checked. She was mentally ticking every part of the post-concussion protocol she knew by heart; everything so far seemed to be normal.

Yet, she could still feel her heart beating furiously in her chest. She had experienced utter panic when his patronus found her, something she had never felt before – even during the darkest time of the war. She had been one of the first to apparate within the shop and found him in what was left of their workshop. She had heard his troubled breathing under the bits of stones, wood and plasterboard, and for one split second, she had thought she would never hear him tease her ever again. She still could feel how his mother, Molly, grabbed at her once she got to Saint Mungo's Hospital, as if she was a lifebuoy. How would she have liked to let her know everything would be alright at that time, but she herself couldn’t even trust her words.

It had been a long couple of days before Fred finally woke up. She had stayed with him during all of her breaks. She had made sure his family was alright and that they had all the food they needed without leaving his side. All while she, on the other side, ate very little – her stomach was in knots from the worry. Even if she tried, Y/N couldn’t shake the memories out of her head. The image of a very blank unconscious Fred covered in blood was there, printed on the back of her eyelids, every single time she closed her eyes, so she didn’t sleep either.

That night, his family had finally left his side after a lot of convincing from Y/N that everybody would feel better after a good night of sleeps in their own bed. As she was just coming in to check his vitals yet again, she had found him there, eyes wild open. She knew she shouldn’t be treating one of her acquaintances, but she was one of the few healers on call that night and she only couldn’t care less anyway. He was alive. That was all that matters.

Putting away her wand, she thought of what was next on the protocol and continued: “When were you born?”

“First of April, nineteen-seventy-eight.”

“What were-”

“I know the deal,” Fred sighed, he had already been there after all. He knew she was just going to ask him stupid questions to make sure he had no memory lost; he could at least save them the trouble. “I’ve got four brothers, a twin brother, a sister. I left Hogwarts before even graduating to open a joke shop with my brother. ‘Been doing that twenty-four seven ‘til now. I’ve mixed Octopus Powder and Erumpent horn, hence I ended up here.”

Y/N eyed him, a stern look on her face as she realised what caused his accident. After they had found Fred, they tried understanding what happened. If they had gathered that he was preparing a potion, they weren’t sure what really had caused an explosion. Never had she thought about their earlier conversation a couple of months ago.

“And you can go ahead and tell me I told you so.”

She kept silent, not knowing what to say. She was angry with him still doing what she had explicitly warned him about – mixing this quantity of those two ingredients. She – and probably everyone he knew – had had the scare of their life. But lecturing him now wouldn’t change the outcome. The good thing was that he had been clever enough to send a patronus, so he had been found in time. It could have been way – way – worse.

Not trusting her words, she made him tilt his head so she could have a proper look at the bandage wrapped around his head. His wound had not bled since the last time the dressing was changed, which was also good thing. He had woken up and was talking. He didn’t have any memory loss and was responsive to all neurological exams. He was going to be alright, she tried to reassure herself. Everything was going to be alright.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” she spoke softly as she helped him to settle back comfortably in the bed and tucking him in under the covers. He grimaced when one of her hands brushed his side, but immediately gave her a reassuring smile when he saw the way her body stiffen. If he was not in any pain, he was definitively uncomfortable. His condition was much worse than he thought it was.

“How bad is it?”

“You hit your head pretty badly, broke a couple of bones and were unconscious for a more than two days now.” She explained quickly. “Considering your history, they want to keep you a couple of days to monitor any brain injuries.”

“Just great,” he sank into his pillows. When he had thought he had seen the hospital enough for his entire lifetime, here he was again. It had taken him months to learn again to do anything by himself and he did fell as if he wasted a lot of his life in the hospital getting treatment. His whole family dynamic had shifted around him and though he liked them all very much, he had just become fed up with them all eventually. And now, it was like going back to square one and starting all over. He couldn’t let that happen.

Y/N eyed him sternly, clearly judging his attitude. Whatever lucky star he was born under, he should rather be thanking it. Not everybody would survive two major head injuries. Not everyone had a family willing to keep watch over him for two days straight…

Checking the time, Y/N realized it was already time to get back to work. She was much more relieved to go and leave him knowing he was awake, talking and had a good chance of being out of the woods. She tucked him in the bed a little more tightly, making sure he couldn’t escape the sheets before starting to leave.

“You scared the hell out of your mom,” she stated, eyeing him and his grumpy expression. “I’m going to send her an owl. You better get some sleep; they’ll be here first thing in the morning.”

“Y/N?” Fred called after her. She stopped at the door, hand on the handle, only turning her head to him. “Thank you.”

“Did my mom make you check on me?” Fred asked Y/N, who was currently checking out the shelves of their love potions. He was glad she finally decided to be an actual customer for once, but she should have chosen any other section; this one was only ever visited by fourteen-years-old teenagers.

“What? No!” She nearly shouted, face growing hot. Fred eyed her with a knowing look and a smirk, she was definitively a bad liar. “Maybe a little. But in my defence, she is a very persuasive woman.”

Fred laughed softly; that he would know. The last time he saw her – and it was less than forty-hours ago, she had made him eat two servings of her pasta gratin as, according to her own words, he was skinnier than ever. Fred was pretty sure his weight was stable, but he still happily obliged. He knew when to choose his battle now and this wasn’t one.

“You don’t have to, you know,” he spoke as he leant against the shelf, crossing his arms, as Y/N continued to pretend she was interested in those shiny purple vials. “Promise I’ll listen now when you say not to mix up stuff.”

“I bet you would,” she snorted lightly. She had seen him in the hospital in the next days after he was out of the coma, and she had seen him those last few weeks when he was obliged to rest. It hadn’t been easy, and Y/N would lie if she didn’t say she had found him so miserable every time she had visited. She knew he had learned his lesson this time. “I don’t mind anyway. Unless… you know? You do mind…”

“No!” He cried out and cleared his throat after he realized how loud – and a bit desperate – he had been. “No, I don’t mind,” he repeated again, his voice much softer this time.

“Cool, cool,” Y/N answered, not daring to meet his eyes.

“It would be hm… That would make…”

Y/N frowned as she took her eyes off the WonderWitch products shelves she was still investigating while Fred had gone to help a customer - whatever moment they just had was long gone.

She observed Fred struggled to perform a simple addition for the customer that was buying two packs of fireworks. He was stuttering and couldn’t put together a full sentence; it was clear something was wrong. And with his history, it could be very bad.

She decided to step in to help him. Fred let her push him ever so slightly on his left so she could take his place behind the counter and handle the customer as if nothing was happening.

“That would make 10 galleons, Sir,” She accepted his coins and put them in the cash register with a swift movement of her wrist just like she had seen Fred do a hundred times before. “And for the pretty lady, we’ve always got lollipops under the counter. No funny business, they are cherry flavoured. What do you say?”

The little girl gave a look at her father before accepting the lollipops Y/N was handing her. She thanked her in the cutest way and Y/N would have liked to interact with her more if she wasn’t pressed by time.

“Thank you for shopping with us, have a lovely afternoon,” she smiled at them. She watched them turn to leave and immediately reached out to Fred to lead him into the back shop. “Alright, sit down.”

She helped him sit down on his office chair before having a full look at him. His eyes were groggy, and he was as white as a sheet - at least even more so than he usually was.

“How is the head?” Y/N inquired; her infamous frown had made its way back on her forehead.

“It hurts,” he mumbled; he seemed to be ashamed of it – as if he could do anything about it.

Y/N’s mind was running through all the medical explanations.

This could be the symptom of a brain swelling, but the trauma was weeks ago so it wasn’t most likely, and they would have caught up on it already.

It could be the beginning of a stroke, a part of his brain that stopped working for no reason. His mouth didn’t warp, and he seemed to be able to move his body correctly. He was still able to speak as well and had no facial paralysis. So, she crossed that option out.

He could also just be tired, which would make sense since he was already fully back to work only weeks after he had been cleared and despites his healers order to keep it low. Magic or not, bodies still needed time to heal. “I think it’s time for a little break, yes?”

Y/N went to fetch Lee to cover for Fred. She then managed to get the redhead up the tiny stairs and to the flat he shared with his twin brother just above the shop. He crashed on his couch, eyes sleepy, and Y/N went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water and something to eat. The fridge was empty, but she managed to find some biscuits in the cupboard and make them tea.

“I don’t even know why I am surprised there is no food in this fridge,” she told him as she handed him a cup.

“Don’t even need it when everybody is showing up at my door with dinner. They are just passing by, they say. With a plate of lasagna or a pie. You folks need to start lying better than that.”

“They care about you,” Y/N spoke softly as she brought her cup to her lips.

“I would do the same if that was one of them. I know.” He sighed, passing a hand on his face. “Godric, if it was George, I wouldn’t leave him alone one second. I just wish they would leave me alone for once, you know?”

A couple of days later, Y/N found herself back to the small flat above the joke shop. She was meeting Fred and George before going to The Burrow. The whole family was gathering to celebrate the twins’ birthday and Molly had insisted for Y/N to come as well. Fred was still banned from apparating on his own and they never were too much of two to do it with him.

George and she each positioned themselves on one side of Fred. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her tote bag with their gifts well secured on her other shoulder. Fred hesitantly wrapped his own arm around her shoulders, sending her a troubled look as if he was a teenager boy seeing a girl for the first time. That was probably the closest they had ever been and even if it was nothing, it still made Fred’s heart race in his chest. Y/N interpreted this as his nervousness of apparating and gave him a warm smile before focusing to do it at George’s order.

At The Burrow she met familiar faces, all wearing a much less worry than the last time she had seen them when Fred was still in a coma at the hospital. As soon as she stepped in the house, she was caught in a whirlwind of embraces, most of them muttering in her ears small thank-you’s for looking after their brother as they hugged. Fred got the same treatment even though, from the look on his face, he was less than thrilled. It was all overwhelming so many people, in such a small place, all ever so happy to be here altogether – and especially happy for him to be with them.

After his mother released him from a good five-minutes hug, Y/N gave him a thumbs-up for support to which he rolled his eyes to answer. Thankfully, his niece and nephew were soon to beg him and George to play with them and the whole family focus turned to the children.

“Godric, would you leave me live in peace for once? I am not made of glass; I won’t break. I’m not dead. I am not dying. I am fine.”

Lunch had gone well until after the main course. Molly had gone to the kitchen to get the birthday cake she made, and Fred had insisted he’d go to help her – after all this was his birthday celebration and as always, she had done a tremendous work all by herself. One of his siblings had brought up that he should rather stay and that they would do it for him. It had been only a short sentence that had Fred literally exploded. He was up from his chair, yelling; anger had turned his face as red as a tomato.

Molly stopped on her track, a few meters from the table, cake in her hands, clearly mortified. The silence that followed his cries left everyone uncomfortable. The air was tensed. Y/N, sat at his side, tried reaching out to this arm. She wanted him to realize he had gone too far; he needed to take a step back and ease the tension a bit. But he just pushed her hand away quite harshly, directing his anger to her. “And you! Don’t you have anything better to do than try to fix and save people? I am not dying now, am I? So just find some stray orphan kittens to take care of and leave me the fuck alone.”

Y/N watched Fred storm out of the room. Her cheeks were hot from the embarrassment and her eyes were wide open from what Fred had just yelled at her. She knew it was just too much for him; the war had left its mark and his accident had just made him live it all other again. He didn’t want to be thinking about it every day. He didn’t want everybody to fear he would just disappear. He just wanted to be alive, and happy. And he wanted them to be alive and happy… and not to worry about him.

She knew why he said what he did. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel her heart stang by his words. Behind his anger, there was still a little bit of truth.

Perhaps she was also just too much; she had imposed her presence to him even though they were merely acquaintance. She had acted as if they were great friends, a friend with a medical degree that scrutinized his every little move to make sure he was alright. Perhaps, she had not given him any air to breathe, acting exactly just like every other member of his family though he had specifically voiced he didn’t want that. Perhaps she also had a saviour complex, after enduring so many patients’ loss during the war and being traumatized by it, that she just wanted to fix him because she knew she could.

“I, uh-” Y/N started, gazing around the table, “I think that’s my clue.”

“Y/N, darling…”

“That’s fine, Mrs Weasley. He needed to get this out of his chest, I guess.” She went to grab her coat by the door, as Molly and everybody else tried to stop her from leaving. She was too upset by what had happened to even bother to put her coat on, even if it was still freezing outside, despite it being already April. She was so disturbed she almost went through the door without saying goodbye, but stopped on the doorstep to turn to the table she couldn’t even see from the tears building up in her eyes. “Thank you again for the food. I’ll see you all.”

Two days after that, Y/N found Fred at her door, waiting for her to come home.

After crying all night about what happened at lunch, she had kept herself busy with a 24-hours shift. It was the first time since then she was coming home and she found him, leaned back against the corridor wall in front of her door.

She gave him a dirty look when she reached his level. She was exhausted from her shift - a shift during which everything that could go wrong actually did - and also from the very little sleep she had got in those two days after Fred’s outburst. This was the first time they were seeing each other. She hadn’t reached out to him, willing to give him space as he so needy apparently. One part of her had hoped he’d send an owl to apologize, but she didn’t get anything.

From the apologetic look on his face, he wanted to have this discussion now. Unfortunately for him, she just wasn’t in the mood, so she just ignored him and went to unlock her door. He still stepped closer and called after her.

“Look, I don’t have time for this,” she stated as she wiped her foot on the doormat.

“My heart hurts a little, can you have a look at it?”

Y/N turned to him to scan his face; she didn’t know if he was serious or not. She searched into his eyes to try and find his well-known playful sparkle. When she didn’t find any, she sighed and opened the door, instructing him to get in. Following him in, she let her coat and bags by the door and made him seat on one of her kitchen chairs.

She listened to his heart with the help of her wand, making sure to listen to multiple heartbeat sounds and see if anything was wrong. When she was done, she put her wand away, still refusing to look at him.

“So, what’s your diagnosis?”

Y/N could hear the smile in his voice; of course, there was most likely nothing wrong with him. He wouldn’t have gone to hers if he was truly believing something wasn’t right, he would have gone to the hospital. She sighed, passing a hand on her face from the frustration. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?”

“I am sorry.” He grabbed her hand and Y/N finally looked at him. She could tell from his tight smile and the way his eyes desperately searched for hers that he was indeed sorry. “I didn’t mean anything I said back there. You never treated me like I was made of glass or like I would just breakdown any minutes. You went through your own stuff, and this was unfair of me to tell you any of those things.”

Y/N nodded slowly as a way of accepting his apology. Fred smiled, relieved she was no longer mad about him, and she smiled weakly in return.

“Does your heart really hurt?”

“I dunno,” he shrugged, a sly smile on his face. “Would you kiss it better if it did?”

[its-elioo]

Incorrect quotes Part 3 (RnM fanfic related)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

Knock Out: I just can’t believe you would do this to me.

Rarity: I’m sorry, I had no idea…

Knock Out: It’s called a betrayal of trust. Does that mean anything to you?

Rarity: Of course it does. I didn’t mean to hurt you-

Knock Out: You don’t just get me a gift out of nowhere and I have nothing prepared for you! Now I look like a big old jerk!

-

Sideswipe: If your leg gets cut off, would it hurt?

Rainbow: Duh!

Sideswipe: How tho?

Rainbow: Cause your leg got cut off, foo.

Sideswipe: Where you gonna feel the pain?

Rainbow: In your le-…

Sideswipe: Exactly, bruh.

Sideswipe: How you gonna feel the pain—

Both: If your leg is gone!

-

Steeljaw: It’s really cute that you’re gonna defeat me with the “power of friendship” and all but again I am the devil from the bible so—

Sunset: You mf, you didn’t let me finish!

Steeljaw: Uh-huh, go ahead.

Sunset: I have all this power in my hands—

Steeljaw: Dadadadada— shut up, shut up, stfu- I’m the- I don’t care. I DO NOT CARE.

-

Predaking: Your existence is irritating.

Fluttershy: How so?

Predaking: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

-

Reporter: Hello miss, did you witness anything strange in the area?

Rainbow: Wha- witness?

Reporter: Yes.

Rainbow: Is this camera on?

Reporter: Yeah, we’re live!

Rainbow, trying to distract her while Sideswipe is slowly sneaking away: Ohhoh- Oh nah, I ain’t seen nothing. Ha, I ain’t seen nothing. Matter of fact, I’m blind in my left eye. And 43% blind in my right eye, I don’t see much of nothing. A matter of fact I can’t even see you, sir!

-

Pinkie: And if I run and leap at Smokey, he will most certainly catch me in his arms. COMING IN!

Smokescreen: NO WAIT- I’M HOLDING ENERGO- [drops it on the ground and catches her]

-

Rainbow: Giraffes, they can fight.

Sideswipe: You’re more afraid of a giraffe than a gorilla?

Rainbow: Hell yeah, I’m more scared of a giraffe than a gorilla.

Sideswipe: Imagine you’re in a zoo, you mean to tell me you’d rather fall into the gorilla pit?!

Rainbow: Yes.

Rainbow: How tall am I?

Sideswipe: 5.7

Rainbow: How tall is a giraffe?

Sideswipe: Probably like 12ft.

Rainbow: Exactly.

Sideswipe: How strong are you? Very weak and fragile. How strong is a gorilla?

Rainbow: I could talk to a gorilla—

Sideswipe: You’re gonna TALK TO HIM?!

-

Ultra Magnus: I’m not going to lie, Optimus. I’m a little scared of your daughter.

Optimus: Sunset? She wouldn’t hurt a fly.

Ultra Magnus: Well, that’s reassuring--

Optimus: She would kill a man, however.

-

Rarity: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?!

Wheeljack, whispering: Why are there little handprints all over the walls?

The CMC: Because we have little hands.

Wheeljack: Because they have little hands.

-

Bumblebee: What am I doing wrong?

Sunset: You want me to answer as a therapist or your friend?

Bumblebee: Friend.

Sunset: Go see a therapist.

-

Applejack: What do ya think Wheeljack will do for his distraction?

Bulkhead: Who knows? He’ll probably throw a rock or make a noise that’s what I w-

(a big explosion appears behind them)

Bulkhead: …or he could do that.

-

Twilight: Can I be frank with you guys?

Grimlock: Sure! But I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Pinkie: Can I still be Pinkie?

Smokescreen: Shh, let Frank speak.

-

Ratchet: We call that a traumatic event.

Ratchet, turning to Rainbow: Not a ‘bruh moment’.

Ratchet, turning to Sunset: Not a ‘major L’.

Ratchet, turning to Sideswipe: And DEFINITELY not an ‘oof LMAO’!

-

Sideswipe: Maybe you shouldn’t pick fights with people bigger than you.

Rainbow: Then I wouldn’t get to fight anyone.

-

Twilight: Do you ever want to talk about your emotions, guys?

Ratchet and Arcee: No.

Fixit: I do!

Twilight: I know, Fixit.

Fixit: I’m sad…

Twilight: I know, Fixit.

-

Pinkie: Never stop wishing Smokey and all of your dreams will come true!

Smokescreen: [sarcastically] Even the scary ones?

Pinkie: [laughs]

Pinkie: [seriously] Yes.

-

Strongarm: Why are Rainbow and Sideswipe sitting with their backs to each other?

Twilight: They had a fight.

Strongarm: Then why are they holding hands?

Twilight: They get sad when they fight.

-

Sunset: Watcha doing?

Bumblebee: Looking for my will to live.

Fluttershy: [walks in]

Bumblebee: Ah, there it is.

-

Rainbow, listening to the radio: I really like Eminem.

Sideswipe: I prefer Skittles.

Rainbow: No, like the rapper.

Sideswipe: Why would you eat the wrapper??

-

Predaking: I only had Fluttershy for a day and a half.

Predaking: But if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone on this planet and then myself.

Fluttershy: PLEASE DON’T—

-

Rarity: You know, not every problem can be solved with a sword.

Wheeljack: That's why I carry two swords.

-

Pinkie: That’s one of my biggest fears. Like, if I ever woke up as a donut...

Smokescreen: You would eat yourself?

Pinkie: I wouldn’t even question it.

-

Bumblebee: What are you doing?

Fluttershy: Cooking pancakes for the squirrels outside.

Bumblebee: …why are you cooking for the squirrels outside?

Fluttershy: Because they don’t know how to.

-

Sunset: What is it called when you kill a friend?

Bumblebee: Homicide.

Twilight: Murder.

Sideswipe and Rainbow: Homiecide.

[avelera]

Sandman Meta: Hob has exactly zero way of figuring out who Dream is (before they reunite)

More than once in a fic I've written from Hob's POV I've had readers note their astonishment that Hob has not yet figured out Dream's identity, even if Dream does not reveal it himself.

Even in fics of mine where Dream reveals his name, like in Giving Sanctuary, I have Hob be slow on the uptake when it comes to the extent of Dream's powers, even things like being able to enter and control dreams, and the reason I do this is carefully considered and based in the fact that Hob would have no way of knowing who Dream is or by extension what he can do.

So I kind of want to take a step back and address in detail just how actually impossible it would be, objectively, for Hob to figure out who Dream is in a world that doesn't have The Sandman comic for him to read to figure it out.

This is, of course, because, from a Doylist angle, Neil's "Dream of the Endless" is not based in any single mythology. Indeed, Dream as we know him is cobbled together from at least three or more different mythological figures, none of which combine to actually form the "Dream of the Endless" we see in the show or read in the comics. The Endless are completely made up for the comic and the Sandman, Morpheus, and Oneiros are all from wildly different mythologies and none of them actually overlap to form the complete picture of who Dream is as an entity in the Sandman show or comic.

So even if someone straight-up told Hob that the person he meets is the Sandman, Morpheus, or Oneiros (btw, there is no singular figure of "Oneiros" in Greek mythology) he would still not be able to put together the full picture of who Dream is. Even if he's given the name "Dream of the Endless" to work with, those words combined don't mean anything on their own if you don't have what an Endless is filled in, because it was made up entirely for the comic. (Of course, a fanfic author absolutely could make up such a book for their fic but it would be a creation for that fic, serving a purpose within that story like to tip Hob off, though I think it's entirely reasonable to make up a book in the Sandman world that goes into detail on who the Endless are. The Magdalene Grimoire, btw, is not that book. It only talks about Death. Death is a figure in many mythologies including the Christian one, but Dream is not. Even Burgess needs the Corinthian to tell him who Dream is in the show, and he's an occultist.)

Couple all of this with Hob's personal experience with Dream, encountering him as part of a wager with Dream's sister Death to see if Hob could bear a life of immortality, you get far more clues that would send him hurtling off into a totally incorrect direction before you'd get anything close to the truth, if we assume only the books available in our world are available to him.

So the reason this is a bit of an irritation for me that there's this idea that Hob has "all the clues" to figure out who Dream is because it smacks of a logical fallacy.

Basically, it's easy to see that the answer to a complicated math problem is "obvious" if someone just hands the answer to you. But challenging people to actually solve it themselves could be quite a bit more complicated. And in this complex formula solving for "Who the fuck is Hob's mysterious stranger?" there's actually so many blank X's of unanswered questions that I genuinely think there's no way for Hob to solve this equation without someone giving him the answer.

Let's go through this systematically, using just what Hob knows as observed on screen in the show.

1389 - a pale man in all black with a ruby at his throat approaches Hob's table and challenges Hob to meet him there in 100 years. He then smiles enigmatically and leaves.

That's it. That's all Hob has to go off of. He never sees Death, he has no idea about the wager. As far as he knows, Dream gave him immortality. It would be the most logical conclusion given that the day before Hob didn't have immortality and the day after, presumably, he does.

1489 - The only confirmation he has is actually seeing Dream there in 1489 and the first thing he asks is, "How did you know that I'd be here?"

Dream does not answer him. Hob takes a few stabs at guessing his identity which reveals his Christian European context: are you a wizard, or a saint -- to be clear, these are two types of human magic users that make sense to Hob for his context. The only other figure he can think of is The Devil. He doesn't ask if Dream is a pagan god or a faerie, he assumes a man with arcane or divine magic, or the Devil.

Dream says that he's not the Devil, much good that would do if he was a Devil who could just presumably lie to Hob, and says he's interested in Hob's experience and implies that he will grant him another 100 years of life. He is sarcastic and unimpressed about Hob's wonder at the world. He doesn't even actually show much interest in Hob being in the printing business. He only shows a spark of interest in Hob's continued desire to live, and then immediately takes off.

1589 - The only new information Hob gets this year is 1) Dream is supremely uninterested in food or the wealth Hob has earned, or his family, and 2) puny little Will Shaxberd, a crap playwright with no shot at becoming anything more, suddenly becomes a famous playwright. He would eventually become a renowned playwright in his day but keep in mind, Shakespeare didn't actually become mega famous centuries after his death. In his day, many people thought other playwrights like Marlowe were better.

My point is, from this Hob doesn't necessarily get even the pieces to determine that Dream likes art. It might seem obvious to us because Dream is Prince of Stories, but that's not the offer Dream gives Shaxberd. He just asks if it is Will's will to create dreams to spur the minds of men. Yes, we know that Dream wants Will to make dreams for him, but in Hob's context, Dream is just asking what Will would sell his soul for, just like he overheard Hob saying he had no intention of dying. From this perspective the only strong conclusion Hob can draw is that Dream grants wishes.

From this, Hob could conclude that Dream is a djinn/genie, or perhaps a faerie, but there is absolutely nothing to indicate he's associated with dreams or literature directly besides a mention of creating dreams nested in the context of asking Shaxberd what he wants, giving him a supernatural gift much like the one Hob believes Dream gave him.

At this point, the domains of Dream's power are very muddled for Hob because he doesn't know Death gave him immortality. So as far as he knows, Dream can give immortality AND make an amateur playwright into the greatest writer who ever lived. Putting these two things together does not bring you naturally to the domain of dreams by any stretch.

(I will note here, that in Giving Sanctuary, I had Hob learn that "Death" is Dream's sister before he learns Dream's name. There, his initial conclusion is that Dream must therefore be Famine, one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse and the one known for wearing black (and not eating seems like a clue with Dream too) my point being that having another, small piece of the whole puzzle still would probably send him flying off in the wrong direction given his cultural context.)

1789: The next time Hob gets any hint that Dream has powers is with Lady Johanna. He uses his sand to show her her, "old ghosts". Note, she does not fall asleep but rather begins to hallucinate.

The Sandman myth has its origins of Scandinavia and it is first written down in in "Der Sandmann" a context that Hob might have access to, if he's very well read, in the early 1800s. By the way, the description of the Sandman in that book bears a striking resemblance to the Corinthian, because he eats the eyes of naughty children, and very little to Dream beyond the use of sand in his magic.

There is absolutely nothing to link the Sandman to Morpheus the Roman God of Dreams, who was made up entirely by Ovid in the Metamorphoses and never mentioned anywhere before that. That's because Neil Gaiman was the first to link those two mythological figures.

And on that note, there is no Oneiros attested to in Hesiod. The mention of Oneiros is actually to the "Oneiroi" an entire tribe of dreams and nightmares who are the children of Night (Nix). There's Hypnos (Sleep) who is the brother of Thanatos (Death) but that is about as close as we get to the Endless in any other mythological source besides the comics. And again, Dream does not put Johanna to sleep, he makes her hallucinate.

1889- Again, there is precious little to go off of. Dream is tight-lipped as ever. The only thing he gives away is that Lady Johanna later helped him with a task, a fact Hob is visibly annoyed and I daresay jealous about, and when he lashes out he refers to himself as, "One such as I."

But "One such as I," only reveals something Hob already knew: that Dream thinks highly of himself. That doesn't actually reveal that Dream is even magical, he could just be nobility or a powerful immortal magic user and refer to himself that way. Hob already knows that Dream is magical, and immortal, and probably some sort of high born or aristocrat. He's probably known that since 1389 given how Dream was dressed and given that giant fuck-off ruby (which actually might make Hob, in that day, wonder if Dream was a relation to the Black Prince)

That's it. That is the grand total of everything Hob has seen of Dream.

Hob in the comic will eventually admit, in The Wake, that he figured out who Dream was on his own. But this is after Seasons of Mist when Dream toasts him in Hob's dream and Hob wakes up with the impossible bottle of wine on his bedside. He has another encounter too with Dream where Dream eventually accedes to Hob's request to make the men who killed Audrey, his dead girlfriend, know who she was. Presumably, Dream makes them dream of her.

So Hob in the comics by the time we get to The Wake has more to go off of to make the link to the Lord of Dreams. Hob as we see him in the show, has had much less to go off of.

Even if you give Hob one piece of the puzzle, like one of the names like Morpheus, or The Sandman, or Oneiros, that still doesn't help give him the whole picture. The word "Endless" would be meaningless. He would have to have read at least three pretty obscure books that span a period of 2,000 years (between Hesiod and Der Sandmann) to get the three books that Neil primarily drew from to combine these figures into the Dream of the comic.

Look, my point is, unless someone gives the answer to Hob, and explains the full extent of what the Endless are, he's got little to go off of. Arguably, not enough at all to solve for "X" as to who Dream is, even if he's given more pieces. This would be a tough problem to solve.

[imaginebeautifulworlds]

Loved By Seven | Chapter 4

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Human!Reader, Peacock!Seokjin, Serpent!Yoongi, Hawk!Hoseok, White Tiger!Namjoon, Merman!Jimin, Leopard!Taehyung, Wolf!Jungkook

Summary: Hiking was just an activity to get you out of the apartment, the last thing you imagined was ending in a whole different world by touching a jewel. That not being enough you end up meeting seven hybrids, and they all claim you shared the Connection with each of them making you their partner for life.

Notes: Hi! After I posted the third chapter I noticed I have more than 200 followers!!! I truly can't believe it, thank you so much!!! And I decided to write this chapter as fast as I could for a 100 followers celebration, which means the fifth chapter will be a 200 followers celebration along with a one shot from my masterlist. I'm so grateful for the people who keep reading this series and for the new ones who are giving me the opportunity to give them something to read. Likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated. English is not my first language so pardon me if anything is misspelled or grammatically incorrect. Also the main idea came from a webtoon but I can’t remember it’s name. Enjoy!

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Support me?

Closing the door behind him a very happy leopard stops in front of the elevator to call, once inside he marks the parking lot. Which car should I drive today? Well I'm already late, I should take the smaller one he walks and picks up one of the two pair of keys dangling from his parking space I can't wait to take Beautiful out, just the two of us a boxy smile breaks through with this thought and gets in the car After this shoot I'm gonna pretend to be sick and get back to her quickly.

Thanking to the people who picked up the place for the photoshoot, since it was near the building he lives in, he exists the car and jogs a little bit to meet with his manager, a dog hybrid, waiting for him at the entrance, "Tae, I know you're a really big name in this industry, and thanks to me may I add" Jaehyun says with a silly smile and walking where there was already a lot of people waiting for Taehyung "but you can't be this late to a shoot man" this time is a frown what accompanies his words. "I know hyung, I'm sorry, you know I don't like to waste people's time but something happened yesterday and my phone died so the alarm didn't ring and I had to make breakfast but didn't have groceries so everything was a bit chaotic".

Once they're in front of the crew, Taehyung says out loud "I'm sorry everybody, I didn't mean to be this late" "It's okay, I mean you're THE Kim Taehyung you can be as late as you want" says a young leopard hybrid coming way to closer for his liking, like she almost wanted to touch him, so he takes a step back "I'm sorry Director, it won't happen again" he says bowing at her, which makes the girl blush "Um, Tae, she's no…" Jaehyun stars but gets interrupted "She's not the director Taehyung, it's me, she works with the make-up department" a slighter older fox hybrid walks towards Jaehyun and him "Oh, I'm sorry for being late Sir" he bows again, but this time at the right person "I know you're a big name but it can't happen again while we do this campaign" "It won't I swear" Taehyung says with his anima ears twitching nervously and his human ears red from embarrassment, at this the Director chuckles "It's okay, go get changed and then go to make-up while we set up things to start the shoot" he points at a girl who raises her hand She must be from the costume's department thus Taehyung walks behind her until they get to the dressing room.

"Hi Mr. Kim, I'm Danny and I'll be helping you during this campaign with what you'll be wearing" "Thank you Danny, and you can call me Taehyung, Mr. Kim sounds way to formal for my liking" he smiles gently at her Wow he is even more handsome in person and the rumor of him being a sweetheart are true, thank you universe for already having a partner otherwise I would probably be acting like the girl from make-up "Sure thing Taehyung" she says with red cheeks "These are the clothes you're gonna be wearing for this particular shoot" Danny shows him the main show of the shoot, a pair of underwear, with a pair of jeans and a jacket, both in denim "Okay" the leopard goes behind a curtain to change himself "If you need anything, I'm here" Danny says in a more professional tone "I actually have a question" he says while taking off his shirt "Sure, is anything not your size?" "No, it's not about the clothes or the shoot" "Oh" she says more relaxed "Sure" You're human right? I mean I didn't smell anything particular from you, except a faint smell of giraffe" he rushes his explanation in fear of offending her while almost falling from taking off his pants, she chuckles at this "Yes, I'm human and the scent you're smelling is my partner, it's faint because he's away on business, may I ask why are you asking this?" "It's just that I found my partner and she's also human and I wanted to know how can I court without scaring her, both my parents are hybrids so I don't know if I should do something different" a fondly smile forms on his lips by the mere thought of you "Well" she laughs a little "Andy was very forward, we crossed paths at a coffee shop and as I was exiting he screamed Wait! I think you're my partner to the entire shop and I genuinely thought that wasn't directed to me so I just walked out but he followed me and tapped my shoulder and told me the thing he just screamed was aimed at me, so we sat and started talking. I think everyone in this world knows they're destined to someone therefore you shouldn't be afraid of scaring" she finishes at the same time he pushes the curtain already changed That's the thing, I don't think she knows about the Connection which is so weird but he doesn't let his thoughts reflect on his face, instead he smiles at Danny "Thank you, you were very helpful" "Okay, let me see you" she turns on her job face "Please turn around" she hums looking for something that may stand out in the wrong way "I think you look great, the jacket is not too big, the boxers are up enough to see the brand but your abs can also be seen, and the jeans make your thighs look great, and this denim makes you ears stand out in very nice way. You're ready to go to make-up Taehyung" she smiles at him "Thank you Danny" he waves at her, exiting the dressing room.

"Hi handsome" someone says as soon as he exits, scaring him a little. Turning to look at the person who startled him, he finds the same leopard girl he thought was the director "Hey Taehyung, I was just coming to get you to take you to make-up" Jaehyun approaches but stops when spotting the girl "What are you doing here?" he asks "I'm here to pick him up" "The director told you to wait by your room, thus I'm asking again, what are you doing here?" "I'm just trying to show initiative, that's all" she answers with a fake sweet smile "Let's just go, yeah? We're already behind schedule because of me I don't want to keep delaying everything" Taehyung intervenes. "Yeah, you're right Tae…Lady, please take us to the make-up room" Taehyung puts himself between the wall and Jaehyun, just to be safe from the girl, watching this the girl frowns because she wants to be next to him Especially if he's wearing something so tempting. The three get to the room full of make-up suitcases "Okay, we're already you can leave now" she smirks at Jaehyun "You know make-up artists have to be alone to do the job quickly and without errors" Jaehyun growls a little bit at her but knows he can't do anything because she's right "Tae, call me if you need anything" he looks at the male leopard like saying If this crazy girl throws herself at you call me at which Taehyung only nods, and Jaehyun takes his leave.

"Okay Tae, you can sit here" she purrs the words in an attempt to sound sexy "Please don't call me Tae, only people close to me can call me that" Taehyung says in a deeper and strained tone of voice, one he uses when he's not comfortable or mad, dreading being with her and sitting in front of her "Then we can get closer, don't you think?" she trails one of her fingers up his right arm, trying to reach his exposed chest, however a male hand stops her intention "Look I really don't want to say anything to the director about your inappropriate behavior but if you continue I'm not going to have another choice but to talk to him" at this point his chest was vibrating to let out a growl, but he contained himself. Watching his face she felt a little scared but that didn't deterred her purpose This man is going to be mine, he just doesn't know it yet. I mean, we're both leopards, we obviously belong to each other. I have to be more forward with that in mind she sits in his lap, wrap her arms around his neck and brings her face closer to his, watching how her prey open his eyes wide Oh he looks so cute, and he's gonna be mine "Come on Tae, I know you don't have a partner and look at me, we would be incredible together, you're hot I'm hot, we're both leopards, and I'm just feeling this electricity between us, it's incredible" with each word her voice goes lower and her face closer I can't just toss her, it could hurt her and it would make a mess.

"Lia, what are you doing on top of Taehyung?!" A woman's voice wakes up Taehyung from his shock and stands up, trying not to toss the girl with too much force, and turns to find a familiar face "Mrs. Choi?" "Mom! What are you doing here?!" the girl screams at the woman Is she the daughter of one of the best make-up artists? Taehyung thinks "No, the one who asks questions is me. Now, what were you doing on top of him?" "Mom, we're part-" "She sat on top of me! Started touching me and saying crazy things! And we're definitely not partners, I already have one and she's at home!" it's not his intention to almost scream but that's how it comes out, he wants to be clear with anyone who's listening that he already has a partner, a very beautiful partner What? He has a partner? Well, it doesn't matter he's not marked yet which means anything can happen the other leopard in the room thinks "Oh my God Lia, I told you that if you wanted to come with me you had to behave and why was the door closed, you know that until the senior enters the apprentice can't close the door" Mrs. Choi says "Are you the one who's going to do my make-up?" Taehyung says with a hopeful tone, and he's so relieved even his ears stand up in relaxation "Yes, darling. And I'm so sorry for my daughter" hearing her mother say that Lia crosses her arms in frustration If you hadn't enter mom I could've kissed him "Now let's do your make-up quickly Taehyung, after all this isn't the first time we work together" and it's true for most of his shoots Mrs. Choi has been the one does his make-up so, by now, the know what works the best. After 15 minutes Mrs. Choi is finishing his make-up, she really wanted to finish fast after all her daughter couldn't stop looking at Taehyung and trying to touch at very chance she could get, and the boy's obviously very uncomfortable; "There, all done" she says applying a thin layer of gloss to make his lips stand a little bit, Taehyung looks at himself in the mirror in front of him "Thanks Mrs. Choi, as always your work is impeccable" the woman smiles at him "My pleasure Taehyung, will be seeing each other because of this campaign so we'll see each other soon" Taehyung stands up and exits the room listening to something along the lines of "Let's go home young lady, we need to talk about boundaries at a work place" "But m-".

"Tae, you're finally out" Jaehyun starts asking as soon as he sees Taehyung "What happened? Did that girl do something? You know what? Where's the director, he needs to know this" "Hyung, hyung!" Taehyung almost screams but at least gest Jaehyun's attention "She's Mrs. Choi's daughter, apparently wanted to learn about this world" "Mrs. Choi's daughter? But she's so ahhh" Jaehyun makes angelic noise "and that girl was so oohhh" Jaehyun makes scary noises now, which makes Taehyung laugh out loud. Hearing a deep laugh the director approaches the two young men "Taehyung, did you finish? Are you ready?" "Yes Sir" Taehyung immediately stops laughing and transforms it into a serious face "Okay, please put yourself in front of the camera" the older male chuckles softly at the nervousness of the young leopard.

Modeling comes easy for Taehyung since he was recruited at 16 years old people has praised his good looks and how natural he's in front of a camera, however he started his official career at 20 years old and he's been doing it for 5 years now. It pays the bills and lets him have a certain commodity, and now that he found you he knows he can also provide for you as well. Being in front of the camera makes Taehyung sometimes feel weird or even shy depending on the type of shoot he's doing but once he switches on his modeling talent he can only focus on what pose to next so it can come as natural as possible, something many directors like when working with him is that the leopard almost never need directions he knows which are his best poses, his best faces and most importantly knows how to use his body, which angles show, in this case, the clothes better and how can his animal features add to the mix, play with his tail or hide his ears to show something.

Because of how good he is at his job the shoots ends on time, despite Taehyung being late, and now was time to go home There's no way I'm gonna keep working when it's almost noon and Beautiful doesn't have anything to eat "Hey hyung, I'm not feeling well, I think being with that girl really disturbed me, besides I think I ate something that's bloating me. I think I should go home, tell the other shoots we can double the time when we reschedule or the can pay me less" Jaehyun couldn't say anything because Taehyung starts running to the dressing room "Hi Danny" and changes his clothes in a flash "Bye Danny", the leopard runs again and encounter the Director "Great job Director, thank you for everything, have a nice day, I look forward to the next shoot I swear I'll be on time" he bows and runs again towards his car not even paying attention to the "Taehyung's" Jaehyun is screaming.

Once inside his car he makes a plan First I need to buy her a phone, hers is obviously so old it doesn't work anymore, I have to buy one for Jiwoo too because I know how important she's to Beautiful. Second, the both need clothes just a few and the we can go together to buy more. Finally, groceries for the three of us. Parking at the mall, Taehyung goes straight to a store where he can buy the phones, for his Beautiful he buys the same one he has but pink because he saw that many of her things had that color It suits her that color he smiles at the thought, and for Jiwoo he buys same model but white. Outside of the store he looks at the watch on his wrist Damn it, there's not a lot of time adding something more to the list he goes to the food court and approaches to a Italian restaurant and orders 3 lasagnas to take, and while they're making them Taehyung goes to a store for clothes as soon as he sees a clerk similar to your body type he asks her to pick six shirts, two pair of jeans, and 4 pair of shorts It's getting hotter these days with summer approaching, he pays and goes to another store for the underwear where he basically does the same but this time with a very red face and animal ears glued to his head from embarrassment, in this store he pays even faster. He has to accept he must look like a mad man running from one place to another with a lot of bags; he gets to the restaurant and picks up what is gonna be lunch. Running again he sees his car closer and closer, he puts the lasagnas in the front seat and the rest of the bags on the back seat, once inside he takes route to the nearest supermarket around his building.

Getting off the car after parking, he takes a supermarket cart an starts going through the aisles to pick up and put inside the cart the food of his choice I just hope they like what I'm choosing, but I can always bring them with me if she wishes something else. With the supermarket already seen he approaches the cashier and pays and pack everything as fast  as he can, looking at his watch once more he notices it's noon Okay I'm close just have to hurry up a little bit he tries to run with difficulty from the heavy grocery bags. This time he puts the bags on the trunk and gets up inside to start driving to the destination he wants to arrive the most Home.

Finally seeing his building he presses the gas a little bit more, once inside the parking lot, he parks next to his other car and takes out all of the boxes that despite being heavy he can carry all of them thanks to the gym and his leopard genes. He walks towards the elevator and calls it, it doesn't take long and it opens its door and he walks inside. Marking the 10th floor, he's almost buzzing with excitement, his tail is wiggling behind him in a happy manner. The elevator chimes and announces it arrived at its destination opening its doors. The leopard exists and runs for his apartment, in front of the door he opens it Finally. "I'm home"

Chapter 5

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[potatoqueenpal]

Yall I'm SO SORRY for dipping on you I have no ideas and I'm still fighting to get my avior fic back.

Have filler till I think of more angst

I present to you: Shaw Pack and Mates: Incorrect quotes

Sam, filling out legal paperwork: Were you guys born AMAB or AFAB?

Sweetheart : Bold of you to assume I was born at all.

Baabe: I personally was created in a lab.

Angel: I just straight up spawned.

Sam: We call that a traumatic experience.

Sam, turning to Baabe: Not a "bruh moment".

Sam, turning to Angel: Not "sadge".

Sam, turning to Sweetheart : And DEFINITELY not an "oof LMAO".

Asher: Knock, knock.

Baabe: Who's there?

Asher: Boo!

Baabe: Boo who?

Asher: Why are you crying?

Baabe: I'm not crying.

Asher: Hello notcrying, I'm Asher.

Milo: Angel, you look deep in thought. What’s wrong?

Angel: Did you know you can look at any object and know what it’s like to lick it? Even if you’ve never touched it before?

Milo: I’m never asking you anything ever again.

David: There's nothing worse than people using big words they don't understand.

Milo: I photosynthesize with this.

Sweetheart: I’m this close to falling in love with Milo.

Asher: Your fingertips are touching.

Sweetheart: Exactly.

Asher, spraying a melted cutting board with a tiny water gun: We gotta cool this bitch down. Cool it down.

Sweetheart : I actually just put the cutting board in the oven...

Baabe, visibly confused: Okay, so they decided to put the cutting board in the oven?

Asher, spraying Sweetheart : You FUCKING DUMBASS!

Sweetheart : Dude, I forgot-

Asher: OH MY FUCKING GOD! We're trying to make Chicken Alfredo right now, and you fucking MELT the cutting board in the oven at 400 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT!?

Sam: *Watching in complete confusion while trying to process this whole situation.*

Asher: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity?

David, turning to Darlin': How tall are you?

Angel: Sam said its my turn with the brain cell.

Asher: Square up.

Sam: And what do we say when someone refuses your offer?

Sweetheart : Suck it, boomer!

Sam: I don't know who "Boomer" is, but no.

Asher: *spits mouthful of blood onto floor* You’ve become far more powerful since we last crossed paths.

Dentist: Please stop, there’s literally a sink right next to you.

Baabe: I think my guardian angel drinks.

David: How did none of you hear what I just said?!

Milo: I've been zoned out for the past two and a half hours.

Asher: I got distracted halfway through.

Darlin': Ignoring you was a conscious decision.

Asher: Consider the fundraising over! Your hero has arrived!

Sam: Uhh… where did you get so much money from, Asher?

Asher: Well, you know, I’m pretty good at numbers. I just crunched them, I stretched them, I analyzed my accounts, I timed the market-

*police sirens start to wail in the background*

Sam: DID YOU ROB A BANK?!

Asher: Oh, come on, Sam, do you really think so little of me? *opens the bag as purple dye explodes on their face*

Sam:

Asher: …it was a credit union.

Angel: Tell them to eat shit, David.

David: Tell them yourself.

Angel: Eat shit, asshole. Fall of your horse.

Milo, gardening: Hey, can you bring me the hoe?

Darlin': Yeah, sure.

*A few minutes later*

Darlin': Here you go.

Milo:

Darlin':

Baabe: Why am I here?

Angel: Guess what I'm about to get!

David: On my nerves.

Sweetheart : That's a nice arguement, Milo Why don't you back it up with a source?

Milo: My source is that I made it the fuck up!

Sam: Aww, what's your cat's name?

Milo: Aggro.

Sam, yelling to Baabe: TRY AGGRO!

Baabe, on the computer: DIDN'T WORK!

Milo:

Sam: What's your favorite number?

Angel: I’m so jetlagged I can’t even regrender my chorf.

*Everyone stares at Angel*

Angel: I don’t even know what I was trying to say.

Angel: I've connected the two dots.

David: You didn't connect shit.

Angel: I've connected them.

And now, wholesome (amd flirty) ship incoreect quotes:

｡･ﾟﾟ･　　･ﾟﾟ･｡｡･ﾟﾟ･　　･ﾟﾟ･｡｡･ﾟﾟ･　　･ﾟﾟ･｡｡･

David : Do you want to explain the text you sent me last night?

Angel: It was autocorrect.

David : Autocorrect wrote "You're so hot. Please step on me."?

Angel: Yes.

Angel: You are the love of my life and I would do anything within reason to make you happy.

David : I would be happy if you ate, stayed hydrated and got a reasonable amount of sleep.

Angel: I said within reason, David . How about I murder that guy?

David : So murder is in reason but proper self care isn't?

Angel: Well, duh. What kind of question is that?

Angel: Hey, wanna take a shower with me?

David : I have a gun on that nightstand beside the bed. If I ever say no to that question, I want you to take it out and shoot me because I’ve obviously gone crazy.

Angel: There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?

David : Nope, there's 26.

Angel: Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T.

David : Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one.

Angel: So give me the D.

Angel: Hey, I’m getting in the shower. Wanna help me out?

David : ...Have you never taken a shower before?

David, sweating: Angel, there’s something I need to ask you-

Angel: Finally! You’re proposing!

David: How’d you know?

Angel: David, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

Angel: I even picked it up once.

David: I want to kiss you.

Angel, not paying attention: What?

David: I said if you die, I wont miss you.

Baabe: I’ve been dropping them the most insanely obvious hints for like a year now. No response.

Asher: Wow. They sound stupid.

Baabe: But they’re not. They’re really smart actually. Just dense.

Asher: Maybe you need to be more obvious? Like, I don’t know… “Hey! I love you!”

Baabe: I guess you’re right. Hey Asher, I love you.

Asher: See! Just say that!

Baabe: Holy fucking shit.

Asher: If that flies over their head then, sorry Baabe, but they're too dumb for you.

Baabe: Asher.

Baabe: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

Asher: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

Baabe: Seize the dick.

Asher: We have a problem.

Baabe: No, YOU have a problem. I have an idiot who keeps making them.

Baabe: I'm trash.

Asher: As someone who's environmentally conscious, it's my duty to pick you up. Does 7 work for you?

Baabe:

Baabe: You smooth motherfucker.

Baabe: And yes it does.

Asher: Sorry I’m late, I was doing things.

Baabe: Hi, I’m ‘things’.

Asher: Valentine’s day is just a consumerist holiday that holds no real value other than drive people insane buying heart shaped chocolates for their significant others and pos-

Baabe: I wrote you a poem.

Asher, already crying: You did?

Milo: Being gay is a constant battle between "I wish to sit on a window bench with my lover, our legs tangling as we listen to the birds" and "Hey, let's go throw rocks at fascists" and I think that's very sexy of us.

Sweetheart : If the window's open and you time it right, you can do both.

Milo: I fell—

Sweetheart : From heaven?

Milo: No, I literally fell—

Sweetheart : In love with me the moment you saw me?

Milo: MY ARM IS BROKEN!

Sweetheart : Okay, but do you think I'm pretty? Be honest.

Milo: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time?

Sweetheart : AS ENEMIES?!

Milo:

Milo walking into the kitchen and seeing all their limes peeled: Sweetheart , I love you but, what the h-e-double FUCK.

Sweetheart , sipping coffee happily: I love you too :)

Sweetheart : I don't know how to tell you this, but... I love you.

Milo: That's great, Sweetheart . Especially considering the fact we've been together for 6 fucking years.

Sweetheart : I’m in love with you.

Milo: We called off the prank war last night at midnight, dork.

Sweetheart : I know.

Milo: Ah. Okay. Um. Cool. Neat. Very cool. Cool. Cool. Coolcoolcool-

Sweetheart: I was going to suggest we do Marilyn Monroe and JFK roleplay, but I’d get way too into it.

Milo: What- how?

Sweetheart: You’d be like “come to bed … Mr. President” and I’d be like, “I need to increase the amount of American military advisors in South Vietnam by a factor of 18.”

Milo: Wait, what's going on? Are we all talking about how hot Sweetheart is? Because Sweetheart is a straight up sexual fox riding a red-hot nuclear bombshell right toward the yowza plaza in the heart of Babe City, Assachusetts, U S A. The last A just stands for more ass.

Sam: The stars are so beautiful...

Darlin': They're just giant balls of gas.

Sam: You know what, if you're just going to ruin this, then-

Darlin': And yet none of them are as huge as my love for you.

Sam: Oh...

Darlin': Wow, Sam, you want to hold my hand before marriage? How awfully lewd of you.

Sam: We literally slept together yesterday.

Darlin': That's NOTHING compared to the lewdness of holding hands.

Sam: I love you.

Darlin', not paying attention: What was that?

Sam: I said I’m selling you to the zOo-

Darlin': Well, Sam and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Darlin': That's right... We kissed!

Darlin': What are you in the mood for?

Sam: World domination.

Darlin': That's a bit ambitious.

Sam: You are my world.

Darlin': Aww...

Sam:

Darlin':

Sam:

Darlin': OH.

Darlin': I have feelings for you.

Sam: Why? What's wrong with you? Are you sure you're okay?

Waiter: What would you like?

Darlin': Bring a milkshake with two straws.

Sam: *blushes*

Darlin': *puts both straws in their mouth* Watch how fast I can drink this!!

Darlin': You got a date yet Sam?

Sam: No...

Darlin': Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Darlin': Are we fighting or flirting?

Sam: I'm pinning you against a wall with my hand around your neck-

Darlin': Your point?

Darlin': I don't need to go to bed. I'm not tired, I'll be fine.

Sam: But, darling, I'll be so lonely without you. Come curl up in my arms so I can feel whole again.

Darlin': O-oh. Well. Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns??

Sam: Is it working?

Sam: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you?

Darlin': …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out in bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?

Sam: Since we're in a relationship now, your clothes are my clothes too. Don't ask me why I have your shirt on, this is our shirt.

Darlin': Fine, but when I come strutting in with your fuzzy socks I don't want to hear shit.

Darlin': Come to dinner tonight. I can’t cook, but I’ll bring plenty of free wine.

Sam: Marry me.

Darlin': This date is boring!

Sam: This isn't a date. I said I was going to the store.

Darlin': Then why did you invite me?

Sam: I didnt, I specifically said "don't come with me," then you said, "fuck you Sam I'll do whatever I want!

(This is long as fuuuuck and took me a good hour, but it was fun)