#I should probably never have joined this site or at least not that early. It wrecked me

[satellite-blossom]

Sick coloring and shading, dude ❢ Unfortunately I don't like how you draw Sonic the hedgehog so I'll have to blacklist your blog because I don't want to block you.

[quaddyvoddy]

one crazy night shift and six hours of sleep later, and i'm just now realising that i agreed to pay for a taylor swift vip ticket just so i could make my bff happy

[mountmortar]

hi, i saw your post about different socials/sites and i'm curious to ask what your experience on mastodon has been like? i've been interested in checking it out but it's hard to know what kind of "instance" i should join in that case, or generally what the culture/etiquette there is like!

OKAY. so! your experience on mastodon will be heavily influenced by the instance you join—it might be best to shop around for instances that fit your interests! for example, i use mastodon primarily to get tech news/web news that nobody else on the web seems to talk about, so i joined the tech.lgbt instance. as such, when i log on there, i definitely see shitposts and things from the younger members of the instance (early 20s) but even the shitposts tend to relate to tech things a lot of the time. it's pretty much a lot of tech talk. some instances let you view what other people on the instance are saying before you join—you'll see the the option for "live feeds" on the right side (if you're on a computer), for example! mastodon.social, the most generic and popular instance (249k active users as of right now), has this option. obviously, if you join a generic instance like this, you'll see a lot of EVERYTHING. an instance for fandom is blorbo.social, a popular one for anime/manga content is sakurajima.moe, which i've also linked the live feed to! you can find a metric fuckton of instances to search through here!

i've been part of three instances—mastodon.social (generic), mas.to (also generic) and tech.lgbt (topic-oriented). being part of the generic instances ultimately gives you the most general social media experience, and you'll probably find yourself ignoring your local server feed (the other people who are in the same instance) and curating your experience via people you follow the same way you would on here! being part of a nicher, topic-specific instance may provide you with more entertainment right off the bat based solely on the fact that you are already connected with people who are also interested in things you like.

(ultimately, it's just like picking an email provider—yahoo, gmail, aol, etc.—that allows you to communicate with people with both the same email provider or with different email providers! it's just that it also comes with a community page of people who use the same email provider as you, if that makes sense at all. just find one you like, read the rules, and you're good to go!)

using mastodon is a LOT like using twitter, if you're familiar with it—it has its own lingo, of course (toot instead of tweet, for example), but the layout of the site/app is pretty twitter clone-ish. the difference is that while twitter is, in recent times.........Conservative/Right-Leaning As Hell, mastodon is so liberal/left-leaning that i've seen people describe it as TOO liberal/left-leaning, lmao. if you join a niche instance and venture outside of it, prepare to see a lot of political posts. interaction between users is encouraged, though because it IS filled with a lot of techy people no matter what instance you join, prepare to see the occasional techbro every now and then. it's easy to avoid them, though.

a Very Big Thing about mastodon—the circles i'm in, at least—is that alt text on images is a MUST. if you've never done alt text on images before, be prepared to learn or whatever you post WILL be ignored to hell and back because some people will straight up refuse to interact if you post an image with no alt text. it's also important to note that some instances of mastodon have moderation problems, which you might find being discussed by users on there a lot.

ultimately, i'd say my experience on mastodon has been positive—i've followed some genuinely interesting people on there (a lot of university professors and people in the workforce—i've learned more about SpaceX satellite waste in the last few months because of an astronomy professor i followed than i ever would've had i not joined!). if you don't feel like eternally searching for an instance you like, there's nothing wrong with just joining a generic, "catch-all" instance and then just seeking out people to follow. just make sure to read and follow the rules of an instance (which usually amounts to "be friendly" "no hate speech" and whatnot—depends on the instance, but it's all the same) and you'll be fine no matter how you talk or interact. you might find some instances that prefer you to use tone tags and some whose userbase has never even heard of tone tags—there's a lot of different "holes in the ground", so to speak!

(i will say—despite me linking a couple of fandom instances above, there really isn't much of a fandom presence on mastodon as of right now. not that i've seen, at least. you'll find a lot more people talking about their real-world interests (tech, gardening, marine biology, knitting, whatever) than you will someone going nuts over a fictional character. so if you're super into fandom, or super into a NICHE fandom, you may find yourself a bit lonely over there if you don't have a group of friends to migrate with you. if you don't mind that, then it works out! )

i hope this helped a bit! ^.^

EDIT: FORGOT TO MENTION. CONTENT WARNINGS ARE A BIG THING OVER THERE. you can hide your post behind a sort of "spoiler" type warning (like discord basically) and a lot of instances require you to content warn for certain content (gore, food, etc.) it's a VERY big thing.

[captainkurosolaire]

Update / Valentiones

Just wanna throw-down some appreciation and update on some stuff still plan on tackling this year. Although early this still implies for Valentiones. “Love ye all, have a terrific hearty day.  Should you feel cast aside, leave that t’ me to debunk it. Cause I’ll polish and give you a reason to rewrite that by finding you, picking you up, dusting it off. – You’re f*cking valuable, every single passing Sun t’ Moon, not even I can determinate it, no scale could justifiably do it. Don’t let any foul scallywags tell you otherwise. I’ll handle em’ You focus on shining eruptive, dazzle chaotically! I see you and I am thanking you fer existing, otherwise, I’d be out of business as a pirate, what’s the point of being one if I can’t discover my treasures cross these bland planes?” - CKS

Achieved a decent-chunk of chapters already with my goal this year to be like 60, think I'm almost at 20 this early-in. More than I expected. Thanks for all the energy and power, from low to high. Still got probably 800-1000 chapters I need to realistically create, I get why One-Piece how it is. Once you get real passion for your art, there's an overabundance of stories to further write. xD I most certainly will be around chipping at pieces. In my case, I've always continued for the company that's been on this crazy voyage with me, for always welcoming or being there after long-breaks to RP partners who's integrated or pre-established stuff with me to join in. To my Best Friend/Roomie for always shooting inspiring ideas, always been able to easily click from being nerds who made so many D&D and Tabletop sessions we went to make our own whole world-building and tabletop game. Was pretty dope, but now I'm taking all that same, rich-passion and throwing it to world-build here. I got all the people to credit, I started from here on the community with too that matured and nurtured my character who allowed a very vanilla starting character, to morph into something that I could eventually give deep respect to continue. There's ton's of people and fellows who came from Tumblr as well, that were either forced to give up, or brought down by anon's, all those who suddenly disappeared, couldn't because time-commitments, or became distant, I've kept ingrained in me and I stay ever vigilantly passion in their stead. I overflow like a flowing fountain and multiply for all their sake to continue onward, and the lurkers, all the people who came to me saying they got inspired to join this fandom, all that you've made a impact, difference on me, and make no mistake about it, you matter. I carry your spirit, energy all with everything I endeavor. It's meant a life-changing amount to me have a place to just unleash myself. No better way to say it but -- I LIVE for this shit. So even no matter how infested this site becomes, or when the p*rnbots take over and I have to somehow try to convince them to start up a brothel and least take up RP, I'll still wage on. I may and most definitely die alone at the end. But baby I didn't live like that one-bit or felt like that at-all, I've lived millions.--- Update --- I'm determined to be more regular about this stuff yearly, I've collected so It can get done. I literally think I'll be at this point writing for the next two FF MMO's at this point if I don't start now. For now though, got about two-chapters left in me to do hopefully before February ends. Then I'll probably take a mini-break. I'm thinking about having or seeing if people will send a single, -word- to me in my submission box, and create my own prompt's judged upon that way. Overall, I never-mind getting anything asked or submitted anytime either while, I'm throwing it out. But this way lets people get involved, and I can use my over abundance of characters and try to create-weave a story within the mood or perimeter I need to tell, but I don't have to follow my story-path. Words submitted can be just about anything. Either I can mention you when I do a post with your submission, or you can go on anon for it. Even if no one's down for that stuff, It's all chill. Cause I'm dedicated and determined to do this stuff regardless, whenever I'm around. xD I eventually will take the XIVWrite again too, but I want to do that after a lot of progression or absolutely, my last-rodeo, or its. I've got to establish a lot of Captain's Crewmates, NPCS, I'm even doing slow-burn and building up other antagonists, I got relics, cultures, isle world building, continue thinking of just a mountain of arcs. I really want to get to my sport-arc. After these next two-chapters or so, I'm going to start timeline jumping all over the place. When I'm energized. Anyways that's it, also If need a Valentione's I got ye my hearty, I take no issue in being a rebound. 😎💛

[frostfloweragainlol-alias-juno]

This is my first attempt at a kind of fanfic i guess? Lol its a bit of a test

Lets see how it goes

This is part 1

Dex belongs to @leech-twinz

Warnings: cussing , light sickness (flu)

Ships present: Cain x Oc (Dex), Abel x Larry

5 am

Another morning at site 17. Another day at the foundation. Scp 073 reached out to the alarm, which’s annoying ringtone had woken him up, and turned it off. He yawned, questioning to himself how he could be more tired than when he went to bed, and got up. Cain walked up to the bathroom, turned the tap on and started washing his face with cold water, in the attempt to better wake up and hopefully shake off this strange feeling of fatigue and tiredness. He turned off the tap and grabbed a towel to his face, then looked up:“Man, I really should shave '' was his first thought upon seeing his reflection in the mirror , but something made him observe closely. Cain noticed that his face was unusually pale and the bags under his eyes were somehow blacker than normal . “Yes, maybe I should '' he mumbled. He decided to dismiss the entire situation to the fact that maybe he should sleep more. There was no way he was sick. He hasn’t been sick in 1000 years! Nope, he must've been just tired. Right ? He sighed and made his way to the door leading on the corridor, then proceeded straight walking past the site’s canteen. Usually he would have stopped for some breakfast, but this time, while well knowing it wasn’t that much of a good idea, he decided not to. He didn’t feel much like eating right now, and only the thought of food made him nauseous.

“Hey dumbass!”

073 looked up

“Good morning to you too, brother”

“Have you seen Frost by any chance? It’s at least 30 minutes that i look for her!”

“Abel you know very well that she is never up before 8 am”

“And?”

“It’s 5 am”

“Oh”

“You guys better not be talking behind my back” Frost walked towards her brothers with a smirk

“Huh, since when are you a morning person ?” Smiled Cain

“Oh I’m not. But Zack unfortunately is. And the ringtone of his alarm today was so loud that I heard it from my cell. And that’s why I’m awake” Frost yawned “Man, I hate waking up- ... early-“

Scp 9108 stopped “Dude you alright? You don’t look too good “

Abel immediately looked at Cain

“Hm? Oh! Yes I’m fine, just tired” 073 shrugged off “ Maybe I should sleep more “

Frost stayed silent for a moment. 076 instead didn’t break eye contact , not believing a word of what his brother just said

“Fine” she obliged “still, you probably should go back to bed. You are pale as fuck “

“Nah, I’m fine”

“Well, I was going to eat something. Would you guys like to come too?”

“Fuck yeah! I haven’t had breakfast yet!” exclaimed Abel

“Thanks but no. I’m not hungry “

Abel began to stare again at his older brother

“What?”

“Nothing. Why?“

“You were looking at me weird—“

“I wasn’t “ argued 076

“...ok?””Anyway , I have to go. I have to catalog some documents and Doctor Glass asked me for some help. If you need me I’ll be in his office”

“Ok! See you later brother”

As Cain walked away Frost and Abel shared a worried look

“That was wired -“ mumbled 9108

“...”

“Aby?”

“Hm?”

“Dude, were you even listening to me?”

“Yeah. Sorry I was just thinking”

“—-“ “Yes, I’m worried too”

“Never said I was”

“Hmh. Yeah. Sure-“

Abel shrugged

Of course he was worried. Why would his brother lie like that?

“Hi guys!“

“AAHH!” 9108 rapidly looked behind her

“ Oh shoot! I’m sorry“ started apologizing Dex upon seeing the reaction of his sister-in-law

“No prob “ Frost reassured him “I just didn’t expect that lol”

“SERIOUSLY what does ‘lol’ mean?!” Abel glanced at the both of them in anger

“Pff-“

“Oh come on!”

“Hahahaa!”

076 started mumbling swear words in Sumerian under his breath, thing he always did when he was pissed

“Heyyyy- language-“ 9108 joked

“FUCK. OFF.”

“Ok jeeze “

“Are we going to have breakfast or not? I don’t have all day “

“Fine mr grumpy” she rolled her eyes “ Dex would you like to join?”

Dex nodded happily “Ofc!”he then stopped a second and proceeded to look around “Where’s Cain?”

Silence

Abel and Frost stared at each other.

“He went to help Doctor Glass” Frost responded, and then hesitantly continued with “And- well - he was weird this morning”

Dex started at her confused

“I’ll explain everything, but in the meantime let’s head to the canteen” continued 9108

“Ok” he obliged a bit anxiously

~

“Ok, and with this we have finished with scp 4001’s documents ” Doctor Glass closed the file on his tablet “Which one is next? Was it 005 ? “

No response

“Cain?” Glass looked up from his tablet and at his friend, who was sitting at the other end of the desk.

Cain had his head on the table , buried in his arms. Did he fall asleep? Wait- is he shaking?

Simon stood up and approached 073. He then proceeded to gently shake him by the shoulder. Cain groaned, blinked several times until he was somewhat awake and then looked up. It took him 10 seconds to realize he had been asleep for all the cataloging of 4001’s files.

“Omg- I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that “ he then apologized, with a weak voice

Doctor Glass stared at him worried. Cain was sweating and shaking, and was clearly trying to keep his eyes open to avoid falling asleep again, though he barely managed to keep them only halfway open.

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah , I’m fine”

‘-No you aren’t-‘ Thought the scientist

“Listen, we actually finished cataloging everything for today, and I thank you a lot for helping me. ” He said “But you don’t look well at all, you really should go and rest.”

Cain stared at the table for several seconds, and finally nodded. He was right. It was stupid to keep working while in that state. He proceeded to stand up and, after waving off Doctor Glass, he started heading back to his chamber.

~

Abel made his way in the corridor, trying to focus on the incoming mission, but still failed to shake off the feeling of worry. He kept on walking, trying not to think about it. Then he noticed a familiar face in the corridor, coming from the opposite direction.

Cain? He already finished cataloging ?

“Cain!”

073 raised his eyes

Abel approached him. He observed him for a second and then immediately asked

“Are you ok?”

Cain stayed quiet for a few minutes. He really did not want to worry his brother, but it was too obvious at that point that he indeed wasn’t fine.

He shook his head. No.

076 placed a hand on 073’s forehead for then commenting with “ Your burning up! How are you even standing up!?” and “I’m bringing you back to your chamber this instant!”

Cain didn’t say a word, he just nodded. He was too exhausted to do anything else other than that.

~

Upon entering the cell, Abel immediately placed his brother in bed. He then proceeded to find and hand him a thermometer.

“Well? Don’t just stare at it dumbass!” He said annoyed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Cain glanced at Abel “Calm down, sheesh”

“Just use it idiot “

A few seconds later the thermometer beeped and 073 it handed it back to 076

“104 °F? How in the FUCK are you even still conscious?!”

Abel sighed

“What made you think it was a good idea going to work like this?!” He then yelled

“ I don’t know “

“What do you mean you don’t know?!?!”

“I- don’t know, ok? Maybe I didn’t want to worry anybody or maybe it was for another reason. I just don’t know “

“Well you just fucking worsen things. Couldn’t you just use your brain and think about it for once?! Why tf are you so -“

“....I know...... you’re right ........I’m sorry”

He lowered his head, staring at his hands, that was now squeezing tightly into fists

-Aw shit - Abel sighed again

“Hey- I didn’t mea-“

“I know. Don’t worry “

“No really I’m sor- “

“No problem “

076 grabbed him by the shoulders

“ Cain please. I really didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I was just worried”

Cain looked up at his brother

“And sometimes you should take a break from work” Abel continued “You need some time to rest , you’re not a robot for God’s sake!”

Cain nodded

“Guess you’re r-“ his sentence was roughly interrupted by a series of coughing fits and a sneeze.

“Uh- I’ll get you some tissues. You’ll need them “ 076 stood up

073 sniffled “Thank you” he replied weakly

Abel got some tissues and some cough and fever medicine , then gave the tissues to Cain, just in time for him to sneeze into one. He also handed him the medication along with a spoon

“Don’t stain the sheets with that “ he slightly smirked

Cain nodded again, this time with a weak smile

[blazehedgehog]

What got you into answering submitted questions on this blog?

Absolutely nothing! I registered this blog for other reasons originally but left the ask box open, because, well, why not? Formspring and Curiouscat were dedicated "ask a social media person a question" services, and I had one of those for a brief time, too, but it all just seemed to kind of... collate here.

But I wasn't a fan of when people would sit down and shotgun blast 10+ questions in a day and then go radio silent for days, or even weeks. Some of that was just how Tumblr itself treated asks -- you could only post answers immediately. However, if you had Xkit installed, asks could be put in to the queue like any other post. (Nowadays, Tumblr lets you do that by default)

So, out of politeness, I decided to just dump all my asks in to a queue where they would go up two or three times a day.

But it was still kind of inconsistent. I'd get a few days or maybe a week worth of posts, but there were still dry spells. Eventually I settled on there being one post per day. And that's the way it's been for years and years at this point. It's extremely rare there isn't a post ready to go.

Sometimes I think I should speed it up. I used to. There used to be times where I'd have 10-15, even 20 posts in the queue, and I'd bump it back up to two posts a day. But that hasn't happened in a while now*. That's for a few reasons.

One, I think I spend a lot more time writing each individual post. Shorter, sweeter, to-the-point posts are getting fewer and farther between, to the point where I am now making a conscious effort to write less, because my proclivity is to just write and write and write and write forever. So when you see a post like this, that's me in my own head saying "shorter posts are fine. not everybody wants to read a novel every day" instead of skipping that ask.

Two, I don't get paid for this. I've thought about at least trying to put a simple adsense banner on this blog somewhere, but if I'm being honest, Tumblr makes that difficult. You may not know this, but my bltn.net site is basically just a tumblr blog redirected through a domain, and Google Adsense is constantly yelling at me because I don't have a proper ads.txt and this and that and the other thing. Because even if you tell tumblr to make a blank page without any formatting, it still inserts secret, invisible formatting anyway. Which Google hates. So it serves ads on bltn.net, but only begrudgingly. And I don't want to make it mad any more than I have to.

You gotta write because you like writing, which I do, but there are sometimes I take a step back and think "This feels like work. I should be paid for work."

Particularly because a friend of mine, Imran Khan, in the days before he became known for his work at Game Informer and Kinda Funny Games and etc. briefly tried to run an ask blog like this, failed to start, and then point blank asked me why I keep this thing running when it seems like so much work. I didn't have an answer for him, outside of the fact that I like interacting with the people who like my writing.

Which I do. But in this scary new world after my Mom died last year, I'm definitely examining where I spend my time more carefully and what I should be paid for doing.

But nagging people to join my Patreon because I can't shut up on Tumblr probably isn't going to work, either. I have a thing my blog's sidebar about it, but getting more aggressive... I dunno about that.

(That being said: good time to note that not only do I have a Patreon, but tier 2 donors get access to a Discord channel where I basically link these the moment they go in to the queue. Meaning you can get early access to these posts days, or sometimes even up to a week or more in advance)

So... I like doing this, I want to keep doing this, I will keep doing this, because I think getting prompts from you guys to write about things legitimately helps me as a writer and helps me build viewpoints on things I would never otherwise think about. If I am left to my own devices and only write about topics that are self-indulgent to myself, I don't know that I would ever write about even a quarter of what this blog wrings out of me.

Because that's the other thing, when Imran asked me that question all those years and years ago: I don't know how to come up with topics? Like, I know the topics that interest me, but those are a narrow group of topics that may or may not be in vogue at any given time. I mean, just go look at my Youtube channel, for instance.

Would you say I have any ongoing "shows"? How often do I venture out of my comfort zone? I think a lot about my last Youtube MCN, Screenwave, when they effectively "fired" me in 2021. I think they figured The Definitive Way To Play would be this ongoing series where I always had a new game to talk about every few weeks or at least every couple of months, and then I... didn't do that. Because I only make those kinds of videos when it's meaningful to me. I don't research games for that series, I talk about mods I personally have field tested in games I want to play. Which is why it's mostly just been Sonic games.

So, like, yes, while I do have a Google Doc absolutely stuffed full of video ideas (32 unmade ideas and counting), when it comes to brainstorming new video ideas, new series, it's not something I've ever really been able to do? That Google Doc is ideas I've been accumulating for the last 5-10 years. My "some day" ideas that never got made.

(That's probably harsh on me, and more impostor syndrome stuff, but I digress; when I think about me thinking about my process, I don't have brainstorm sessions and to date just write videos about things I already know)

Getting prompts here gets me to think about and say things I'd normally never consider. I value that greatly. And this tumblr has even been the inspiration for some of my most popular Youtube videos (my "Definitive Way to play Sonic Adventure" video actually came from this tumblr post blowing up).

So I'm glad to be here. I want to keep being here. It's important to me. But I'd be lying if I did not feel like there was a clock ticking.

* There was no room for this anywhere else, but another reason I feel like I should speed up the queue is that the dry spells are slowly getting fewer and farther between, and sometimes old asks get buried under the next tide of new asks. I have something like 1300 unanswered posts in my inbox these days, but I rarely fill the queue with more than 5-10 posts anymore.

[dailyrandomwriter]

Day 730

Thanks to the generosity of @were-ah, I’ve been given the chance to relive some childhood nostalgia. For those who aren’t into virtual pet websites, or haven’t been to one since the days of Neopets, a new pet site is being built called  Santae, and Were-Ah got two beta keys at their Kickstarter.

So all of yesterday was spent exploring the website, commenting on its design with each other over voice chat and in my case creating a lot of pets.

I grew up on Neopets, and while I was not around since its conception, I had joined that site early enough where I had been around for the release of all the lands after the space station storyline. And that website influenced a lot of my middle and high school years. In fact, a lot of the knowledge I have about Internet safety against phishing scams was taught to me by Neopets. 

In large part because Neopets had a very large scamming problem, larger than it should have been for a game website.

When I got into university, I had fallen out of love with Neopets. In large part because I didn’t have the time anymore to play all the flash games to earn points. However, I had, for a small while, started a Subeta account, another well known pet site. Primarily because not only did it have more interesting pets than Neopets (at the time), but you also had a personal avatar to dress up as well. It was fun all around and the people were quite nice.

I didn’t stay with that site particularly long, but that was probably more due to there not being much keeping me there. The only other pet site I joined and really, really enjoyed was unfortunately a small website whose name I can’t remember or the name of their pets. Even though in terms of community and the way their seasonal events were designed, I considered it the best of the three pet sites I’ve ever been on for engagement.

Then, a few months ago, Were-Ah showed me Santae and I was immediately fascinated by the site. It was clear by some of the features the website was promising (such as several pets being able to have the same name, but only one has the first edition badge) that these were people familiar with Neopets. The style and design, though, spoke of artists who may have initially gained their experience by working with Subeta or similar pet sites.

And yet this was also very clearly a love project all of their own.

When I first saw the designs for Santae’s pets, I couldn’t help but think how much more intricate they looked compared to the pet designs I grew up with. They were even more intricate than the Subeta pet designs (if you don’t include the weird experiment pets they would design later in the website’s lifespan). Which is funny, because I think I thought the same thing about Subeta’s pet designs compared to Neopets.

Though, I will fully admit, at least three of the pet designs from Santae are very much my jam, and I don’t think I ever felt that way with Neopets or Subeta. Never had I had pet designs that stood out to me so much that I said… I want that�� several of them.

[madwomanramblings]

Darren's lips lightly brush my neck as his arms wrap around my waist. "What are you looking at?" he whispers in my ear not to disturb the peace of the kitchen. It's early enough in the morning that the night disappears as the sun begins its weary trek across the sky. This is my silent time before the rest of the house wakes up. I spend most mornings by myself looking out of the huge picture window taking in our beautiful garden. When the light from the sunrise hits it just right the garden comes alive. It brings me joy every time I see it before the chaos of life ensues. I love my children but they are an act of nature: wild and unpredictable. However, this morning Darren isn't the only visitor I have joining me in my peace.

"That owl keeps staring at me," I reply after a few moments. His brows furrow and he adjusts his hold on me as he leans further over my shoulder.

"What owl?" he askes searching the lightening sky. I point to the limb of the apple tree closest to the house where the owl has been perched for the last hour. His wide yellow eyes slowly blink at us as he settles his feathers.

"Huh, that's interesting. Isn't it too late for them to be out? I thought they only hunted at night," he responded before kissing my neck and releasing me to get his morning fix. Even though I enjoy tea and have spent the better part of a year perfect my morning blends, my husband still can't shake his addiction to coffee. It probably doesn't help that I enable him by making a fresh pot and setting out his favorite mug: 'Wolves do it better'. Sipping my tea I chuckle as he exhales after his first gulp of liquid fuel. How he can drink coffee pipping hot I will never understand. I have to wait until my tea cools down before I can enjoy it. Even taking that sip makes me keenly aware I will have to wait a bit longer. 'I guess it is a werewolf thing,' I muse as I set my cup down on the counter next to me.

The owl shifts on the tree limb drawing my attention back to him. He tilts his head to the side as if trying to solve a riddle. I tilt my head mimicking the owl as it shifts one more time before settling. It really is late for nocturnal creatures to be out. The sun is about to come up. At least it won't turn to ash like....

"Well, whatever you do don't go pissing it off. We could use a break from the fighting for a while," Darren playfully chastises me as he grabs his bag and tumbler. He stops briefly on his way out the door to thoroughly kiss me. I sigh into the feel of his strength and warmth of his love.

"Keep doing that and I may have to be late to the job site this morning," he comments voice low and rumbly. My laugh fills the kitchen as I push him towards the door so he can be on his way. The light smack on my butt and his chuckle the only indications that he is heading out. I turn back to the window picking up my cup of life tea as the sun's rays continue their languid dance across the yard.

Darren was right about one thing I will give him that. Our last battle left scars we are still healing from. Some scars are deeper than others. Calily's ran deep. So deep Marcus couldn't reach here. None of us could. Now she is out there with Damien.

My heart aches thinking of what could be happening to my sister. Even though Calily and Krystal aren't my sisters by blood, we are bonded on a supernatural level that spans time and space. We are - were so connected we could feel each other no matter where we were in the world. Now there is an empty space where her light once belonged. Calily cut off her connection to Krystal and I after our last battle. No matter how often we try to reach out there is nothing there just darkness. I send a silent prayer out to Hecate to light her way back to us.

Sccccreeecchhhh.... "Shit!" I swear as the owl launches itself into the pre-dawn sky taking flight. My tea spills on my hand burning me. "I thought you dumb animals only hooted. Not cool owl, not cool," I mutter to myself.

"You should place some of that lavender salve on that burn before it scars," a voice suggests from behind me.

"What the Fu--" I yelp, spinning around to face the intruder. An older woman leans against the huge oak table in the middle of my kitchen. She is wearing a beautiful flowing purple dress cinched at the waist with a gold belt in the shape of a snake. Her short black moto jacket makes her stark white hair stand out. The owl who startled me is perched on the back of the chair next to her.

"The salve," she repeats pointing to the counter next to me. Clutching my injured hand to my chest I look over my shoulder and sure enough a tin of my homemade lavender salve is right where she is pointing. My brow furrows in confusion.

"I didn't leave this out," I mutter to myself.

"I know dear. I did. As one of my daughters I have to ensure you are cared for. All of my children must be cared for and look after. Even Calily. That was your petition, correct?" she asks clasping her hands in front of her, smiling.

"Wait. You're not.... Hecate?" I question. My mind blown at the fact a goddess I just started getting to know is now standing in my kitchen.

"Of course, dear. Who else would have sent a sentry to inform me of your petition," she replies as she nods her head towards the owl.

"Too bad I was a little tardy or I could have met that yummy wolf of a husband of yours," she teases as she approaches me. My mind is trying to process everything as quickly as possible but I feel stuck on stupid.

Hecate reaches for the tin next to me. She opens it and taking a little bit on her finger she takes my hands from my chest. Not sure of what to do I let her take my injured hand into weathered yet soft one. Almost immediately the salve begins to sooth my angry skin. I watch in awe as she hums and rubs the great smelling ointment on my burn. Memories of my mother flash through my mind as Hecate lifs her head and smiles warmly at me. Her hand gently touches my cheek wiping away the wetness that dampened my skin. I hadn't even realized I was crying but I feel as if something has healed within my soul I didn't know was broken.

"All will be well my daughter. We will find our lost soul. Calily will come home to us."

[doopenshmirtz]

The Addison roleplay and friend group moments recap!(from what I can atleast remember at least)

January 13th actually might not have been even January 13th the date is unconfirmed the mentally ill bitch with no life no bitches no good grades no will to live no money staying up way later than she should on Roblox on a deltarune rp she had nothing to do she was just hopping around the map she found a person playing spamtong and fucking bullying a pink Addison I can't remember what was happening she decided to intervene and join in by being a blue Addison which has favouritism issues that will continue very later on and probably still do to this day and I just don't know it anyways after some goofing around by shooting her pink Addison brother in the face and extremely treating spamton like a baby the inevitable had to come the 2 who are apparently siblings had to go to sleep because unlike her they had a proper sleep schedule (it was 9 am for her) so doopysmoopy had to choose if she chooses to friend those fellows she realized the dangerous of keeping them around but in her defense "these guys are fucking awesome" so friended them she did after a few days she and one of the siblings who we will call pilksoder and her brother kickedinthegroins occasionally joined then.... someone..who I wish to not speak the name of but for the sake of the story we shall call them allyperson now doopysmoopy14 didn't think all that bad at first they didn't talk much or anything they did play sometimes together but that's about it they were usually chill(didn't last) but doopysmoopy usually chilled with pilksoder and doopy still played as the blue ad with a gun business and pilksoder's pink Addison who transitioned into a piss yellow ad because allyperson insisted to take the pink one :(((( (soda's pink Addison will be missed I genuinely loved him)

Much

Time

Later...

The 3 bitchless trio (we don't count allyperson here)

Pilksoder

Kickedinthegroins

Doopysmoopy(doopus for short now)

Have added someone into the bitchless trio they added

Neversleptaday(sleepless if you people actually got to this point and didn't stop mid way)

She has become the official

Spammertong of the group

I'd also like to take a moment for our fallen soldier that we still remember after a year later that played with us on that day and never met again

Homeless Susie...

*The moment of silence passes with a few awkward coughs here and there*

Thank you...play toilet rap by homeless Susie

*Toilet rap bass boosted plays on full volume*

*Loud sobbing* she didn't make it out the hood with this one....the crowd went mild :(((

Anyways!!!

The 4 fellas eventually started becoming more serious roleplayers (ohhh) with allyperson intervening every once in a while in the worst way possible literally it wasn't a pleasant site to withhold (*gagging noises*)

For now the group has been made and here we shall remember the best moments in our silly little roleplay and silly little friendship in the group moments through the person with the worst memory ever in the group!

Happy Christmas and early roleplay anniversary bitches!(*cheering noises)

Let's recap a bit from what I remember atleast shall we?

[1kook]

crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast. 

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.  

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office. 

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5. 

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses. 

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful. 

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.” 

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.” 

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.” 

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking. 

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever. 

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours. 

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together. 

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.) 

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be. 

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you. 

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber. 

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend. 

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary. 

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days. 

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.  

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.) 

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like. 

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites. 

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?” 

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.” 

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind. 

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into. 

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway. 

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin. 

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear. 

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass. 

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you. 

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak. 

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead. 

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat. 

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts. 

They go like this: 

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really. 

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively. 

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once. 

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you. 

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome. 

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve. 

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek. 

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts. 

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.” 

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles. 

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild. 

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums. 

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again. 

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning. 

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.” 

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment. 

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“ 

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him. 

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned. 

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.” 

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.” 

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.” 

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.” 

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“— 

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear. 

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer. 

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole. 

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips. 

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise. 

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath. 

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes. 

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue. 

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger.  “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…” 

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?” 

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles. 

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over. 

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more. 

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them. 

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub. 

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor. 

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face. 

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention. 

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock. 

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand. 

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane. 

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh. 

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be. 

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds. 

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter. 

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic. 

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock. 

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you. 

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip. 

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl. 

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully. 

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin. 

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said. 

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away. 

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself. 

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you. 

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once. 

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth. 

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets. 

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you’ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever. 

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries. 

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you. 

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question. 

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest. 

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

Copyright © 2021, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

OK, I'LL TELL YOU YOU ABOUT WEALTH

When we started it, there wasn't any; the few sites you could order from were hand-made objects become store-bought ones—a wire service article whose first sentence is your own ad copy. Every startup that isn't profitable meaning nearly all of them, but none of their software could compete with ours. Most of the disputes I've seen between founders could have been having this idea at the same time, of course, but as far as I can tell it must be hard by how few startups do it. People think that what a business does is make money. In any purely economic relationship you're free to do what you want, not money. With trend stories, PR firms usually line up one or more experts to talk about selling the company to them, we had no experience in business. A programmer can sit down in front of a computer and create wealth. A lot of them try to make relativity strange. In industrialized countries, people belong to one institution or another at least by reputation, the level of measurement is more precise than you get from smallness alone.

I don't think there's an answer. Switching to a new set of buildings, and do things that you do not, ordinarily, be a group. The company that did was RCA, and Farnsworth's reward for his efforts was a decade of patent litigation. Who cares if you could read the minds of the consumers, you'd find these factors were all blurred together. It's rare to get things right the first time in our history, the bullies stopped stealing the nerds' lunch money. I had the misfortune to participate in what amounted to a controlled experiment to prove that. The discoverer is entitled to reply, why didn't you? I know, without knowing they know, that they can create wealth. When we switch to the point of view of a programmer using any of the languages higher up the power continuum. What were the results of this experiment? It takes an effort of will to push through this and get something released to users.

But these had had literally orders of magnitude less scrutiny. By the end of last year. In fact, nice is not the only way to decide which to call it is by comparison with other startups. What you're doing is business creation. It's a good metaphor because it reminds you that when the audience can communicate with one another. The whole tone is bogus. If you want a potato or a pencil or a place to work. Good does not mean being a pushover. But this is a list of the biggest ideas at Google is going to come up with more. And for the same reason: their performance can be measured. When you hear your call is important to us, please stay on the line, do you think, all you have to know who you should be nice to everyone. Developing new technology is a pain in the ass.

Giotto saw traditional Byzantine madonnas painted according to a formula that had satisfied everyone for centuries, and to lose one's sense of humor is to shrug off misfortunes, and to a lesser extent Britain under the labor governments of the 1960s and early 1970s. They didn't care what language Viaweb was written in, or didn't care, I wanted to keep it. He probably considers them about equivalent in power to, say, Python? For one thing, the official fiction is that you don't realize that. And it can't have been heredity, because it was more valuable, but because it is a good bet, he's still at a disadvantage. Gas stations? In this case we get three: the NPD Group, the creative director of GQ.

I had that something was amiss was that I couldn't talk to them. Their reporters do go out and learn Lisp. It must have seemed to our competitors that we had some kind of consumer gadget. If you do everything the way the average big company does it, you should leave business models for later, just as you'd leave some trivial but messy feature for version 2. But Durer's engravings and Saarinen's womb chair and the Pantheon and the original Porsche 911 all seem to me slightly funny. This bites you twice: in addition to the direct cost in time, there's the cost in fragmentation—breaking people's day up into bits too small to measure. Like having more than one founder, one VC, and he'll chase down the implications of what one said to them. Why call an auction site eBay?

When you made mistakes, what caused you to make them. I am much the richer for the operating system FreeBSD, which I'm running on the computer I'm using now, and so is Yahoo, which runs it on all their servers. I never reach them through the Times front page is a list of 5 commands Don't ignore your dreams; don't work too much; say what you think; cultivate friendships; be happy. And God help you if you choose them. There is no shortcut to it. It seems unlikely this is a simple answer to the wrong question. If you have a much greater chance of succeeding. But once you've admitted that one high level language can be more powerful than a community of talented people working on related problems. Another thing blogs and open source have in common is the Web. Salesmen are an exception. The recipe for great work is: very exacting taste, plus the ability to gratify it. Our startup made software for making online stores.

They want statements with punch, like top ten. When those far removed from the creation of wealth—undergraduates, reporters, politicians—hear that the richest 5% of the people have half the total wealth, they tend to write it first for whatever computer they personally use. Presumably it killed just about 100% of the startups we've funded have had a founder leave. They believe this because it really feels that way to them. Ditto for many other kinds of companies that don't make anything physical. For most people the best plan probably is to go to work for them. Facebook rightly ignored, look for ideas from the other direction. But you don't need to join a company to do that completely. But more people could do it than do it now. We did it because we want their software to be good. I had that something was amiss was that I couldn't talk to them.

And we weren't the only ones they did great things for the companies they fund, why didn't they start them? Microsoft would still have signed the deal. You look at them and you think, all you need is good hackers: if you depend on an oligopoly, you sink into bad habits that are hard to overcome when you suddenly get competition. When my IBM Thinkpad's hard disk died soon after, it became my only laptop. Few know this, I mean the structure of the calculation. The sterility of offices is supposed to suggest efficiency. If there are three founders and one who was away half the time talking to executives at cell phone companies, trying to arrange deals.

Thanks to Jessica Livingston, Jackie McDonough, Trevor Blackwell, Ben Horowitz, Justin Kan, Aaron Iba, Robert Morris, Karen Nguyen, and Harj Taggar for the lulz.

[helloalycia]

secret relationship // wanda maximoff

summary: you're the daughter of the famous Black Widow, which comes with its own set of hurdles such as revealing to her that you're dating the newest Avenger that she also happens to be mentoring – Wanda Maximoff. What could go wrong?

warning/s: minor (implied) violence and injury

author's note: okay so the request was the reader is Natasha's daughter and is struggling to tell Natasha that she's dating Wanda. All I know is I got excited (as usual) and this happened so yeah, enjoy! Also, Wanda’s age is always a mystery to me since it’s interpreted differently with everyone, so I tried my best to explain the age gap between you and natasha so things made sense.

masterlist | wattpad

"Did you know red onion and red cabbage is called 'red' instead of 'purple' because back in the old days, they didn't have enough words for colours so anything purple was defined as red?"

"The mission, Y/N," my mum, Natasha Romanoff, AKA Black Widow, scolded.

I sighed, my attention still focused on my surroundings and my gun directed ahead. "I know, I know. But did you know that the most common internet password is '123456'?"

"Y/N," Wanda, my girlfriend and teammate said with a laugh. "Stop it."

"Yeah, please, quit it," my mum added with an eye roll.

I smiled at Wanda, admiring how beautiful she looked when she hid her laugh. My mum wasn't aware we were dating, so I settled for sending her a playful wink before looking ahead.

I knew I had to focus on the mission – scouting out this abandoned HYDRA den – but it was boring. And it was obviously empty of any threats, so talking was my only pastime.

"Did you know the inventor of Pringles is buried in a Pringles can?" I said after a moment of silence, making my mum stop walking abruptly.

"Okay, you know what? New plan," she said, looking between Wanda and I. "Everyone split up. Take a look around. Stay alert. Keep in contact. Sound good?"

I quirked a brow. "You trying to get rid of me?"

She narrowed her eyes my way. "Yes."

I frowned, making Wanda crack a smile and nudge me in the shoulder.

"You need to learn to have an off button sometimes," she joked, her Sokovian accent shining through despite the voice lessons my mum was giving her. Honestly, I preferred her Sokovian accent to her American one.

"You love it," I teased, giving her a knowing smile, my mother completely unaware of the double meaning.

"Just do as I said," my mum said, already shooing me away. "Wanda, you know what to do. If you see or hear anything suspicious, use your comms."

"Yes, Miss Romanoff," Wanda said obediently, and I tried so hard to hold in laughter at her seriousness. I mean, it was great that she was respectful of my mother and her mentor, but God it was funny to witness.

"Once again, Wanda, you can just call me Nat," my mum said with a wince, trying to be polite. "Go on."

Wanda nodded and walked off, her gun raised as she'd practiced. I grinned at my mum, noticing the way she massaged her temple with mild agitation before her gaze fell to mine.

"Go. Now." She pointed behind me, and I stifled a laugh.

"Bet you love babysitting duty," I joked.

"It's not babysitting if I'm your mother," she pointed out. "Though sometimes, you make me regret not picking the baby instead of you."

"That baby would have been six years old now," I informed her. "If anything, I spared you the whole diaper thing and the outgrowing clothes thing and the– oh yeah! Not being able to speak thing!"

"At least they wouldn't be annoying me with stupid facts," she retorted, hand on her hip. "Now be a good agent and do your job."

I rolled my eyes playfully, knowing she was kidding. Whenever I annoyed her, she'd bring up the story of how it was between twelve year old me and a six-month old baby at the adoption centre. She was worried I'd view her as an older sister or something, hence her choice of adopting the baby instead. But I never did, as she was always way more mature than any twenty-seven year old I'd met or seen at the time. And maybe, I guess, I was really desperate to have a motherly figure, and she just happened to fit the bill.

"Aye, aye, Miss Romanoff," I saluted, making her raise an eyebrow threateningly. "Okay, geez, I'm going."

I wandered off, exploring the dishevelled HYDRA den with full focus. The brief clearly stated it was an abandoned site, but I stayed on alert anyway in case there were stragglers. As usual, I only got given half the facts because of my clearance level, so I knew we were looking for a hard drive, but I had no idea what was on it.

Being a seventeen year old working in S.H.I.E.L.D. wasn't exactly how I saw my life going when I grew up in an orphanage. I honestly never thought I'd get adopted, as rumours spread quite quickly through the orphanage that once you hit double digits, nobody wanted you. So, when the beautiful, red-headed Natasha Romanoff came in, looking for an addition to her family, I felt like the luckiest kid in the world because she chose me of all the kids there.

I definitely didn't expect her to be the Black Widow, nor to teach me everything she knew about espionage, stealth, hand-to-hand combat and much more. She ensured I was multi-lingual like her, preparing me for the many S.H.I.E.L.D. missions I would have to go on. There were times when I absolutely despised her, particularly when she overtrained me or stopped me from seeing my friends. And there were times when I wished she'd never adopted me, hating that I couldn't have a normal teenage experience.

But when it came down to it, I knew I couldn't have asked for a more caring, considerate and compassionate mother. I learnt early on into our relationship that she was unable to have kids of her own, hence her interest in adoption. And honestly speaking? That was probably the worst thing in the world because if anybody deserved a child of their own, it was Natasha Romanoff. I guess, in that sense, I was lucky to have all of her love to myself.

Now that I was older, I came to appreciate how awesome she was, especially when we got to go on missions together and I saw her awesomeness upfront. The only thing was, she was extremely overprotective, so it was difficult to get sent on the dangerous missions. Though, I guess, whenever I did, she was always there to have my back and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Her overprotectiveness was also a reason why she didn't know about Wanda and I's relationship. Wanda had joined the Avengers a year ago after losing her brother in the battle against Ultron. She was a year older than me, so naturally we were drawn to each other, and before I knew it, our friendship became more. But of course, my mother could never know that. At least not yet.

"Empty here," I mumbled, rounding a corner into an empty room. As I looked through the rubbish on the desk, I continued, "Empty here... and here... and oh, look, here, too. What a surprise!"

"Y/N, I love you, but God help me I will kill you if you don't turn your damn mic off," my mother's voice came through my comms piece in my ear.

For once, I wasn't trying to piss her off, so I smiled sheepishly to myself and replied, "Sorry. Love you."

I could imagine the eye roll she was giving me in response, so continued to look around for the hard drive I saw on the brief. Still, there was nothing here.

My searching was interrupted when I heard a loud crash from a nearby room, like the sound of bricks tumbling against one another. I spun around, eyes widening with concern.

"Y/N? Wanda? What happened?" my mum's voice came through my ear, slightly reassuring me as it wasn't her who was caught up in anything. But then that meant–

"Wanda! What happened?" I replied worriedly, already rushing out of the room and to the source of the sound.

"I'm okay," Wanda's shaky voice came through my ear, which did nothing to ease my concern.

I found the room Wanda was in quite quickly, seeing her sat on the floor as if she'd been pushed. She had a deep cut on her forehead and looked visibly distressed. Running to her side, I kneeled down beside her and cupped her face, studying her head.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" The words tumbled from my mouth so quickly I wasn't sure if it was understandable.

She nodded slowly, accepting my hand and holding it for reassurance. I followed her gaze, seeing a hole in the wall ahead, bricks crumbling and dust beginning to settle. Laying on the floor through the hole and into the next room was a HYDRA soldier, clearly dead from the impact of hitting the bricks.

Wanda's power was magnificent, but hard to control. A year later and she was still learning its limits, but sometimes slip-ups like this happened. I was, admittedly, in awe of her actions.

"I'm sorry, I should have kept him alive like Miss Ro– Nat said," Wanda apologised suddenly, and I looked back at her to see her shaking her head. "He just– he startled me and I didn't know what I was doing until it happened. I thought–"

"Don't apologise," I cut her off, squeezing her hand gently, before looking back to the cut on her forehead. "I'm just glad you're okay. You did good."

Despite my words, I bit my lower lip to contain a frown, worried about her cut.

"Damn."

Wanda and I both turned to the doorway to see my mum, who stopped and took in the sight of the hole in the wall with partial surprise and partial amazement.

"Mum, we need to get her back to the quinjet," I said, pulling her attention away from the wall. She approached me as I said, "She needs medical assistance."

I didn't let go of Wanda's hand as I moved to the side for my mum to take a look. Gently guiding Wanda's chin to the side, she took a closer look at the gash on her forehead, expression showing nothing as usual.

"You'll be okay, honey," she reassured, letting go. Her eyes drifted to our connected hands briefly, but I figured she wouldn't piece anything together, so I didn't let go. She continued, "Let's get out of here. There's no hard drive anyway."

Wanda nodded and my mum and I helped her to stand up, me still not letting go of her hand.

"The hard drive is on him," Wanda spoke suddenly, nodding to the dead HYDRA agent. "I heard his thoughts before I– yeah."

My mum raised her brows with surprise. "Oh. Perfect. Y/N get the drive and let's go."

I pursed my lips, glancing at Wanda with concerned eyes. She gave me a small, reassuring smile, squeezing my hand subtly before letting go.

"Right, yeah," I said, swallowing hard.

I looked back to my mum, who seemed to be studying my expression, so I cleared my throat and left to get the drive. When I retrieved it, I jogged after Wanda and my mum, checking in on her with a small smile, before leading the way to the quinjet.

When we boarded the plane, I hung around Wanda and my mum as she helped the brunette to take a seat in the back. I noticed Wanda's momentary dizziness as she sat down and felt my chest tighten.

"Hey, you okay?" I asked, kneeling before her as my mum got the first aid kit.

Wanda gave me an endearing smile as I swiped at the blood dripping down her forehead.

"I'll be alright," she said, holding my gaze with comforting green eyes before they flickered to behind me.

"Okay, Y/N, stop hanging about and start the plane whilst I stitch Wanda up," my mum said, appearing from behind me and kneeling beside me.

I nodded, glancing between the needle, thread and disinfectant in her hands and Wanda's head. Reluctantly, I got up and left them both to it as I started up the plane and got us in the air. Once we were in the clear, I flicked on autopilot before heading back to Wanda and my mum to see how things were going.

"We'll have someone look at it properly when we get back to the tower," my mum was saying to Wanda, who was now stitched up and wearing a small bandage, "but it'll hold up for now." With a playful smile, she added, "You're not dying on me just yet."

Wanda cracked a smile and whilst I appreciated how lovely it was to see their closeness in a way I never usually saw, I was still troubled by her injury. Logically, I knew she'd be okay, but it never felt good to see her injured.

"Plane is on autopilot," I announced, making my presence known. My eyes never left Wanda's bandage as I asked, "Everything okay here?"

"You need to calm down," my mum joked, making me look her way. "It's not that serious. Just some stitches."

I smiled awkwardly, but I knew it was much more than that.

"Yeah, relax, it's not a big deal," Wanda added playfully.

Her eyes met mine and I knew she was communicating the same thing through her gaze, holding a seriousness that wasn't able to be shared verbally because of my mum's presence. I tilted my head, giving her a knowing look; she knew I was aware of how big a deal it was. All I wanted to do was give her a hug and kiss and not leave her side until she felt better. And she knew that.

"I'm gonna go fly the plane," my mum said suddenly, and I almost forgot she was standing there until she spoke up. "We'll get back to base quicker..."

I glanced at her, mildly confused at her sudden change of expression. She headed to the front of the quinjet, leaving Wanda and I alone.

"Seriously though, you should relax," Wanda said, sounding like she did when it was just her and I and nobody else. She had an amused smile on her lips as she watched me worry. "I'm fine. All stitched up."

I licked my lips, sulking, as I dragged myself over to the seat beside her. She laced our fingers together, pressing a kiss to the top of my hand before facing me with an easygoing smile.

"I'm fine," she repeated gently, lovingly, sweetly.

I offered her a small smile, before leaning forward to press a kiss to her bandage. "I know. Just don't worry me like that. Especially in front of my mum. I can't take it."

"It's cute," she noted, amusement returning. "It means a lot to know someone cares."

My shoulders relaxed. "I care too much. So, please don't test that."

She laughed and I felt my heart flutter in my chest, never getting used to the sound.

"I promise not to," she said, looking up at me through her lashes.

I leaned my head on her shoulder and kept ahold of her hand, staying with her until we arrived back at base. My mum flew us the whole way back, only coming to get us once we landed. I knew I should have left Wanda's side as to not raise suspicion with my mum, but I couldn't find it in myself to do so. I just hoped she would interpret it as two concerned friends rather than her daughter having a secret girlfriend.

"You should head to the medical wing to get checked out properly," my mum said once we were back at the tower, looking to Wanda.

"Yeah," I agreed a little too eagerly. "I'll go with you."

My mum gave me a curious look. "I mean, that's not necessary."

Wanda must have sensed my eagerness, as she said, "I'd appreciate the company, actually. I don't mind."

She shot me a subtle smile, eyes bright with reassurance.

"I'm happy to accompany you, Wanda," my mum offered, and I felt my mouth go dry.

"It's okay, mum," I said suddenly, making her look to me with pursed lips. "You can go debrief and I'll make sure Wanda is cool with everything."

Glancing between us, my mum finally nodded. "I see. I guess I'll see you both later then." She paused, looking between us once more, before adding, "You did good today. Both of you."

I looked down to my shoes as Wanda shot her a grateful smile. She walked away, leaving us be, and I immediately intertwined my fingers with Wanda's as the two of us headed to the medical wing.

"You may as well write desperate on your forehead," she teased with a beautiful smile.

"So funny," I said sarcastically, though a smile of my own was present. "Let's just get you checked out."

"If it means you'll stop pouting, then sure."

"Real jokester you are. Hilarious, honestly."

Her laughter surrounded me like a warm hug and I could have listened to it forever.

—

Since our mission together, I noticed the distance my mum was putting between her and I, and I had no idea why. I thought I was overthinking it and seeing things that weren't there, so I didn't follow up with it until one evening.

It was a rare occurrence for all of the Avengers to be at the tower at once, so when they were, we'd all have a 'family' dinner for some normalcy. Only, this time, I noticed how strange my mum was acting whenever I spoke to her. She'd either act super dismissive or give one word answers to my questions – once again, I wasn't sure if I was seeing things.

After dinner, everyone went their separate ways and Wanda and I stayed in the living-area to watch some TV. Though it was playing, the volume was lowered and neither of us were watching it. We were just talking about random stuff and enjoying each other's company.

"Okay, how about this one?" I said to Wanda, turning so I was facing her, a grin on my lips. "What did the clock do when it was hungry?"

As with all of my other attempts at making Wanda laugh, she stared at me with an amused smile and a quirked brow.

"Say it...," I encouraged, motioning for her to speak with my hand.

She sighed. "Okay, what did the clock do when it was hungry?" Mumbling, she added, "Even though clocks don't eat..."

I slapped her leg playfully. "Sshhh, you'll ruin the joke. And the answer is, they go back four seconds!"

Wanda didn't laugh, but she seemed entertained as she hid a smile. "Seriously?"

"Because of the number 'four' and the word 'for'," I explained. "C'mon, that's a good one!"

"D'you think you're funny?" she asked, eyeing me playfully. "Because you're not."

I shrugged, playing it off like I wasn't fussed. "I mean, I don't know about that... how about now?"

Before she could question me, I moved forward and began to tickle her sides, watching as she squirmed with laughter.

"Stop it!" she shouted, but her smile was as wide as ever as she was unable to stifle her laughter. "P-please! Y/N!"

"But you said I wasn't funny!" I retorted with a grin, practically straddling her as she attempted to push me off her. "I'm just checking if you still think that!"

Wanda was crying now, tears escaping the corners of her eyes as she continued to laugh. "I'm s-sorry! Y/N, stop!"

Before I could think how to respond, the doors to the living-area opened and in walked Steve Rogers AKA Captain America, a confused expression on his face as he saw me sat on Wanda.

"Hey, ladies," he greeted, raising an eyebrow. "You both good?"

I pulled my hands away from Wanda and breathed out, still smiling as I glanced down at her. She blew a strand of hair from her eyes and glared at me playfully.

"Yeah, just talking," I answered Steve, before being thrown off Wanda and to the floor with a thud.

"Just Y/N harassing me as usual," Wanda corrected, and I sat up to see her sitting up, too, fixing her hair.

Steve chuckled as he headed to the fridge in the connected kitchen. Wanda helped me back onto the couch, nudging me in the side as a response to the tickle fest, before leaning on me and stretching her legs across the couch.

"So, hey, what's up with you and your mum?" Steve asked as I continued to annoy Wanda by flicking her face.

"What do you mean?" I asked, not looking up as I grinned down at Wanda, watching as her eyes glowed red threateningly.

"Don't make me hurt you," she said teasingly, lifting a hand and summoning her powers, red wisps of energy becoming present.

I stopped flicking her and intertwined her hand in mine, watching as her eyes faded to its usual colour.

"She just seemed distant at dinner," Steve continued.

I looked up and saw he was leaning against the counter with a water bottle in his hand. Wanda continued to stretch, practically on top of me, probably to annoy me as I had been doing with her. I moved her hands out of my face as I nodded to Steve.

"So, you saw it too? She was being off, right?" I asked him, glad I wasn't just imagining things.

He nodded, gulping his water, before saying casually, "Definitely. What did you do? Finally tell her about you and Wanda?"

It took me a second to realise what he'd said, but when I did, my eyes widened and I spluttered out a terrible response. "What– what about Wanda and I?"

I glanced at Wanda as she began to sit up properly. She looked more confused than panicked.

"You know, that you're together," Steve said like it was obvious.

I cleared my throat. "What? Why would you think that?"

Steve smiled with confusion. "Wait, so you're not? But I thought–" He paused, pulling a face. "No, you are! Everybody thinks you are!"

I shrugged it off, though inside I was panicking. "I mean, even if that was the case, why do you think my mum knows?"

Steve nodded knowingly. "She's been off with you all night. And then I caught up with her after dinner and she wasn't in a very talkative mood. Just mumbled something like 'new girl, her age, pretty, nice, should have seen it coming'. I assumed she was talking about Wanda."

Heat crept up my neck with embarrassment and when I looked to Wanda, I saw her cheeks dusting a red colour, similar to the energy she could summon. She looked as flustered as I felt.

"Has your mum been okay with you before today?" Steve asked, trying to be helpful.

I chewed on my lower lip and shook my head. "Not since we got back from our last mission..."

Steve scrunched his face with sympathy. "Oof. You should probably talk to her then. You know how much she hates secrets."

I groaned internally. "Thanks for the reminder."

He saluted playfully, his stupid smile on his stupid face, before leaving Wanda and I alone again.

"Well, looks like she knows," I said to Wanda, sinking into the couch with hopes it would swallow me forever.

"She might not," Wanda tried to make me feel better, resting a hand on my leg. "It could be something else."

I gave her a knowing look. "She has to know. It's the only thing that makes sense. You heard Steve."

Wanda sighed, sinking into the couch beside me. "Yeah..." She glanced at me and I looked at her as she said, "I did tell you to tell her."

I forced a smile. "Gee, Wanda, that was helpful. Thanks."

Wanda rolled her eyes before leaning her head on my shoulder. "Sorry..."

I rested my hand on hers. "It's okay, sorry. I just– she's gonna be really mad that I kept this from her."

"Yeah, why did you do that again?" Wanda asked questioningly.

I massaged the tension between my eyebrows. "Because she's too overprotective. It gets too much to handle sometimes... Take my last boyfriend for example. He was some tool that cheated on me and, oh boy, my mum wanted to kill him. I had to physically restrain her from doing so."

"I don't blame her," Wanda quipped, a hint of bitterness in her voice.

I smiled a little, squeezing her hand. "I know... she ended up slashing his tyres and egging his car without telling me. But instead of egging the outside, she broke into it and egged the inside. A thoughtful take on a classic, I must admit."

Wanda laughed, her whole body shaking with pure amusement as she listened to the story. I couldn't help but smile myself, remembering it like it was yesterday. Definitely a fun time.

"I appreciated it, don't get me wrong," I added, smile fading. "I just didn't want that to happen again. I wanted to enjoy our relationship without anyone spying on us, y'know? But now she's gonna be super angry."

Wanda let go of my hand and rolled on top of me, leaning down on my chest so she could look me in the eyes. I wrapped my arms loosely around her to keep her steady.

"She only wants the best for you," Wanda told me gently. "You have to tell her you're sorry. Explain why you did what you did, but hear her out, too. She's your mum. Caring too much isn't a bad thing."

I groaned, knowing she was right. She smiled reassuringly, patting my chest.

"You get the caring too much thing from her by the way," she added, before leaning forward and pressing a haste kiss to my lips. "It's okay though because I love it."

I smiled, never really seeing it like that. Raising my hand, I brushed my thumb over the small bandage on her head; her injury was still healing, but she didn't let it bother her. Very Wanda-like.

"Thanks," I mumbled, meeting her gaze. "You always say the right thing."

"Which is why I'm going to tell you to get up and go to your mum," she ordered playfully, pushing herself off me and holding out her hand.

I let her pull me up before straightening up and taking a deep breath. Wanda was right. I just needed to be open and explain my piece. It would be fine.

—

So, it wasn't fine.

When I entered my mum's living quarters, she wasn't the happiest to see me. In fact, she actively turned her body to face her TV when I came through the door.

"Hey," I started with a small smile, fighting the nerves in my stomach. "Can we, er, can we talk?"

She grabbed the cushion on the couch next to her, hugging it to her chest. Her eyes didn't leave the TV, but the space next to her was free, so I took that as an opportunity to close the door and sit beside her.

The news was playing on the TV – headlines, I think – and they were talking about a new elected congressman in New York.

"Seriously? The news? Even in your free time?" I asked playfully, hoping it would lighten the mood.

She didn't even glance my way as she muttered, "I like to know what's happening in the world."

Losing my smile, I straightened up and cleared my throat. "Right, right..."

It went quiet as the TV played in the background and my mum said absolutely nothing. I grabbed the other cushion on the couch and hugged it to my chest, similar to her. It was a nervous habit that I picked up from, well, from her.

"You said you wanted to talk?" she reminded me. "So, talk."

Having the Black Widow as your mother wasn't something anyone could get used to. She could be the most caring, loving, protective person in the world, but she could also appear quiet, intimidating and ruthless like the trained assassin she was. Not the greatest combination when trying to open up to her.

"I think I know what you're thinking," I started, pinching my hand to distract from my growing anxiety.

Without hesitation, she bent forward to grab the TV remote and turned it off before turning to me with sad eyes.

"That's where you're wrong," she said calmly, and it was way worse than her yelling. I would have preferred her yelling to be honest. The disappointment in her voice was much worse. "You always assume you know what I'm thinking. What I'm going to say or do."

I avoided her eyes guiltily. "Mum, look, I know that I should have told you the truth. And I know how angry you are, but–"

"I'm not angry, Y/N!" she shouted, finally, standing up off the couch and creating space between us.

I winced. "You sound angry."

She put her hands on her hips, looking down to her feet and taking a breath. Her voice at normal volume, she said, "I'm upset. You– you didn't trust me enough to tell me the truth. Instead, I had to put it together when you acted how you did with Wanda after that mission and..." She paused, sighing. "Forget it."

"No, keep going," I pleaded, the guilt piercing through me sharply. "You're right."

She swallowed hard, glancing at me with glassy eyes. "I wouldn't have done anything. I know I have in the past, but this is Wanda we're talking about. I've been her mentor for a year. I care about her and– and– she's good. And she's good for you."

Okay, I definitely misread this whole thing because now my mum was upset, on the verge of tears, and I was the arsehole responsible for it.

"I'm so sorry," I said, standing up and moving forward to hold her arms. "I should have trusted you. I mean, it wasn't even about trust. I was just scared you'd react badly. But it wrong of me to assume that."

She frowned, looking down to her shoes. "I know I can be tough sometimes, but it's only because I care."

I thought back to Wanda's words and gave her a small smile. "I know. I get it from you."

"I am happy for you, you know," she said, glancing at me petulantly.

My expression softened. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

Without another word, she pulled me in for a motherly hug, making me close my eyes and relax in her arms. I still felt horrible for making her feel like I couldn't trust her when it was anything but that.

"I'm sorry," I repeated quietly into her shoulder.

"I forgive you," she said, before pulling away and giving me a small smile. "Now tell me. You're happy?"

The thought of being with Wanda gave me butterflies and I couldn't help but smile in response. With a nod, I said, "I am."

She nodded, squeezing my shoulders gently before fully letting go. "Good. I'm glad you've got her... I know you can take care of yourself, but she's strong, too. She can look out for you when I'm not around anymore."

I shoved her in the shoulder. "Don't joke about that. She isn't replacing you and you're not going anywhere, you hear me?"

She laughed, nodding. "Not yet anyway. But sure, okay."

I relaxed and gave her a nervous smile. "So, you wanna meet Wanda? Like, as my girlfriend and not your student?"

She rolled her eyes playfully. "If I must."

I smiled widely, grabbing her hand and leading her to the door. "She loves you a lot, y'know. She wanted me to tell you about us as soon as we got together. She hated lying to you."

"Yeah because she knows that lying is wrong," she teased me, making me groan loudly. With a chuckle, she added, "I love her, too. She's definitely something."

"Hell yeah she is," I said in agreement, grinning to my mum as I dragged her to the living-area where I last left Wanda.

On the way, we passed Steve in the hall, who took notice of the smiles on our faces and nodded knowingly.

"Glad to see you worked it out," he said supportively.

"Thanks for the heads up," I told him gratefully as we passed him.

When we reached the living-area, I saw Wanda sat on the couch watching TV. When she saw who entered, she straightened up instantly, moving to stand and unsure what else to say or do. It was cute, the respect she had for my mum.

"Did you– I– She told you?" she stumbled over her words, starting to speak to me but eventually looking to my mum.

My mum glanced at me before meeting Wanda's nervous eyes. "She did."

Wanda licked her lips anxiously. "And you're okay with it...? Angry...? Wanna kill me...?"

I watched my mum, nodding encouragingly to her. She sighed before giving Wanda a small smile.

"No killing will be necessary," she reassured my girlfriend. "Unless, of course, you break my daughter's heart. Then in which case, I may have to find you when you're sleeping."

"Mum!" I complained, face falling into my hands with embarrassment.

"I'm just being truthful," my mum said with seriousness, before looking to Wanda expectantly.

Wanda surprisingly took it well, probably used to my mum's personality after training with her for a year. "I understand completely, Nat and I'll hold you to that. I have no intention of breaking Y/N's heart."

A rare, genuine smile appeared on my mother's lips. "I know you don't. Just–" She paused, glancing at me. "Keep her safe, yeah? She's a bit stupid sometimes."

Wanda laughed as my mum smiled with amusement, like it was an inside joke.

"Right here, you know," I reminded them with a wave of my hand.

They only rolled their eyes.

"I will," Wanda promised my mum. "Thank you for being okay with this."

My mum nodded, giving us both a final smile and once over, before saying, "I'll leave you to it. Goodnight."

Wanda and I bid our goodnights, watching her leave before a giant sigh of relief escaped our lips.

"You feel better?" Wanda asked me, grabbing my hand and tugging me to the couch.

She let me fall on her chest easily, snuggling up to her as she wrapped an arm around me and held me close. I inhaled her perfume, a familiar and comforting scent, as my head rested in the crook of her neck.

"I feel better," I answered, closing my eyes and letting her intertwine our fingers.

"I believe this is the part where you say I was right," she prompted, a hint of amusement in her words.

"Don't make me hurt you," I mumbled, making her laugh quietly beneath me.

"You're lucky I love you," she said, kissing the top of my head. "I guess opposites do attract. You're the stupid one and I'm the clever one."

"Wanda?"

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

She laughed again, and even though it was at me, I couldn't help the content smile from spreading on my lips.

[dyed-red]

get to know the blogger

tagged by the lovely @applecrumbledore to do a 20 questions and 20 tags game. a bit late with this reply but better than never!

About Me

Name: phyn, phynali, redhead

Sign: capricorn and it shows

Height: under 5 feet, yes it is a curse

Birthday: Jan 3

Time: this is getting weirdly specific

Favorite band/artists: i’m literally So Bad at picking favourites i honestly don’t know. uhhh Fleetwood Mac? carseat head rest? idk guys music is good go listen to lots of it

Last movie: The Gray Man

Last show: the Sandman (it was really good!)

When I created this blog: like several several years ago with the username ‘theregoestheneighbourhood’ but eventually changed it to dyed-red to match my ao3 pseud. but i only started using this blog actively in like early 2020 and at the time refused to tag anything or interact with folks haha (sorry i’m a curmudgeon)

What I post: a lot of wincest, weirdcest, and some gencest, but especially content about sam and dean. stuff i think is interesting about characterization especially

Last thing I googled: John Cena’s filmography (i was trying to remember the name of the show Peacemaker)

Other blogs: @/phynali is my main, @/coldtomyflash is the side for my former massive hyperfixation, coldflash

Do I get asks: sometimes? i really love getting asks though so please send them. i do have one unanswered one in my inbox from a million years ago about the episode ‘ask jeeves’ that i haven’t rewatched and can’t reply to properly (yet) but i TRY to answer the ones i get

Following: i’m at 144 which is way too high. for the first 8 years i spent on this site i kept it under 100 except for little blips. since joining the SPN fandom it’s it’s 1.5x what it was before and i keep itching to cull it but also don’t want to

Average hours of sleep: ~7, but i genuinely need like 9 so sometimes i crash for 11-13 hours

Instruments: i’m the least musical person i’ve ever met

What I’m wearing: jeans and a t-shirt

Dream job: my existing one with more job security and autonomy, and fewer demands and expectations. my industry needs an overhaul

Dream trip: through southeast asia

Nationality: canadian but i don’t live in canadia-land any longer

Favorite songs: we’ve been over how bad i am at this favourites thing right? right. okay go listen to Clam Crab Cockle Cowrie by Joanna Newsom

Last book I read: A Deadly Education by Naomi Novik, because i decided i should probably read astolat’s original works and holy hell did i enjoy this book, can’t wait for the third in the series (holding off on reading the second so i can read all 3 when the last one is out)

3 fiction universes I’d live in: steven universe, dctv-verse (the flash, etc), uhhh... star wars?

tagging: okay 20 people is way too many and idk who all has done this and who’s currently active, but let’s see how many i can think of... @fandom-hoarder, @brotherwives, @trials-era-sam, @catboyjohnwinchester, @theangiediary, @redmyeyes, @hi-im-dazey, @peach-coke, @jaytwo, @ruinedsam, @themegalosaurus, @youchoseeachother, @brother-in-a-g-string @prince-of-elsinore

(no pressure if this isn’t your thing, and/or if you’re the type of person who likes being tagged in stuff like this don’t hesitate to drop a note here and i’ll try to remember you for next time)

[graniairish]

Walking on Eggshells – Part 3

so here is the 3rd part. maybe some more will follow ...

Part one Part two

Daryl had woken up before dawn. He had always been an early riser and, like you, always one of the first to greet the new day.

You yourself were only half asleep. Immediately you noticed when he began to move as he slowly left the dream world.

With his right arm still around you, he pulled you tight. At some point during the night you had turned your back to him and now he was spooning you from behind.

In his arms you always felt so safe and secure, as if nothing could happen to you in these moments.

"Mornin'", you heard his deep voice, which was still very rough from sleep.

"Good Morning."

Daryl snuggled up close to you and you had to laugh lightly, because his stubble tickled your neck when he kissed you there - still sleepy.

Only you knew this side of him. For everyone out there he was the fearless redneck who hardly spoke more than two sentences to anyone; the loner who should not be messed with.

Only you knew the gentle and loving man who kept looking for your physical closeness; the passionate lover who never seemed to get enough of you.

"Have any plans for today?"

"I'll take care of the chicken coop with Jake and Josh."

"Jake and Josh," Daryl asked confused.

He raised his head and looked at you questioningly.

"Yes. The two have experience in construction. I already spoke to them yesterday."

"Who are Jake and Josh?"

“They're from Woodbury. You know them."

"Don't know who ya're talkin’ about," Daryl said, still trying to remember them.

“Jake and Josh, the two brothers. Big, black hair, tattoos on the upper arms …"

"The two who look like bouncers?"

“Yes, exactly this two. Together we will try to build a beautiful new home for our chickens."

"If ya want."

With these words, Daryl pressed a longing kiss on your shoulder before he broke away from you and slowly left the bed.

You first stretched yourself with relish before you turned around and watched your boyfriend get dressed. A warm feeling spread in your body at the thought that this man was your man, that this man wanted to be your man. You were so incredibly happy. You would never trade Daryl for anything or anyone in the world.

When he approached you and leaned over - his hands propped up on the left and right of your head - you were still lying in bed dreaming.

He had to go, after all, his shift on the Guard Tower soon began.

"See ya in the fields then", he said with a smirk.

“Unfortunately, you have to do without me today. Rick and I want to look for a location for our chicken coop first thing today."

"Ya're breakin’ my heart," he whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on the lips, longingly and so full of love.

"I'm sure you will survive," you smirked.

---------------------------------------------

Contrary to your usual practice, you had helped Carol prepare breakfast that morning while you waited for Rick. Typically, you would always start your days in the gardens to get much of the work done before the sun got too stinging and made the job difficult.

But today you were only there for a short time, had brought the chickens there for the time being. You wanted them to take care of the pests that are currently making life difficult for your plants - hopeful that they would not attack the freshly set lettuce plants.

It was unusual for the residents of the prison to be woken up so early in the morning by the screams of their newest roommate. It was not to be underestimated how loud this little feathered guy could be. The young rooster, however, was not deterred by the confused looks and kept crowing while he watched his girls who happily scratched the ground.

People would get used to it sooner or later, you were sure of that. Apart from the fact that the poultry's permanent residence in your community was not up for discussion anyway.

These animals would ensure your survival and were essential to building a secure future. And your hope was anyway that it would not be the only livestock that would populate your little farm in the future.

Even if some ex-Woodbury residents were not exactly happy about their boisterous and loud alarm clock. First and foremost Michelle, who made a rather pinched impression when she showed up in the canteen that morning.

She had avoided you since the incident during your run. You were actually very happy about it, only the look with which she was looking at you gave an idea of how much she displeased you.

But you did not have time to think about it that day, after all, a big construction project was waiting for you, and by the time you and Rick went to inspect the site, you had long since forgotten about the blonde woman.

-------------------------------------------

If there was one thing that was not lacking in the Prisons office complex, it was pens and paper. Whoever took care of the administration here before the apocalypse broke out was a real hamster.

So it was easy for you to organize the necessary material to start drawing the plans right away. After all, organizing such a building project was easier with a blueprint than without one.

The place was chosen, now all that was missing was the plan and the necessary building materials.

The plan was your responsibility, and the men would get the necessary building materials.

Rick, Jake and Josh were already gathering everything necessary to start construction as quickly as possible.

You approached the matter with a lot of patience, trying not to forget anything that could be important, while line by line you put your new chicken coop on the paper. There was a lot to think about.

The stable had to be built on stilts so that the ground did not start to rot at some point if it was constantly standing in the damp earth, and still be stable. Inside there had to be enough space for cleared nests and perches, and the stable had to be easy to clean, after all, it had to be mucked out regularly.

Concentrated you sat over the plans and tried to consider everything, that you had lost all sense of time.

"Ya even know what ya're doin’?"

You were just thinking about a possible extension - should the chicken population grow faster than you thought - and had not noticed that Daryl had approached.

"Believe it or not ..." you began absently, but you did not get very far.

"But yar mother taught ya how to build a chicken coop when ya were a child," said Daryl with a cheeky grin on his face.

“Smart ass!” You said curtly, without even looking up from your work.

But then suddenly you stopped. Thoughtfully, you looked up at your boyfriend and thought for a moment.

"Was that just a déjà vu?"

You looked questioningly at Daryl, who was still standing next to you, grinning. By now he had leaned over your blueprint, resting his left arm on the table while he placed his other arm lovingly between your shoulder blades.

"No seriously. Who taught ya that. Looks really professional."

Silently you looked at the drawing in front of you again. A painful tightness spread in your chest, making it difficult for you to breathe. You had not thought of him in a long time, you hardly had time to longingly mourn the past.

But here and now the grief suddenly and unprepared attacked you.

"Jeff," you whispered with a sad smile.

"Your brother?"

"Yes," you nodded.

Slowly your gaze changed, was no longer thoughtful and dreamy, and Daryl noticed that you were getting sadder from moment to moment. He knew about your brother, after all, you had mentioned him repeatedly before.

Everyone had those times when they thought of loved ones who they probably would never see again.

Back at Hershel's farm one night you had told Daryl about Jeff and how close you had been as children. And with tears in your eyes you had talked about what had probably happened to him when the dead began to walk over this world.

If he had known in which direction this conversation was going, he would never have started it.

“As children we always built tree houses,” you finally began, still smiling sadly, “once we even tried a trapper's hut. After all, it survived a winter. He was great at that; then he even studied architecture. Did I tell you that? Immediately after graduating, he took a job in Denver, where he met his great love. And then the offer came from New York. He and Valerie had only just moved when ... "

You had to take a shivering breath. Since the beginning of this apocalypse, you had not heard from him. And the likelihood that he was still alive was almost zero.

"’m sorry … shouldn't have asked."

It hurt Daryl to watch as you tried to bravely swallow your tears. He had not intended to reopen the wound the loss of your family had left. During your story, he sat down next to you on the bench and was now lovingly stroking your back.

"You do not have to be sorry. It's nice to think of him again. Even when it hurts."

"Don't think he would have loved me that much," Daryl laughed bitterly.

“Oh believe me, Daryl, he would have liked you,” you said with a smile, before you couldn't help but grin, “at least before you tried to get into his little sister's panties. Then he would probably have fed you to the next best walker."

"Would have been worth the risk”, Daryl whispered as he gave you a gentle kiss on your temple.

You looked lovingly at the man next to you. You were so grateful to have him by your side. He was your little island of bliss in this sea of horror. Even the painful memory of your brother only hurt half as much when he was with you.

"How is the planning for the new home of our chickens going?" Asked Carol as he sat down at your table with Judith.

"Quite well. The only question that remains is whether we want to make it winterproof or do we want to take the chickens into our buildings in winter. We currently have enough space."

You instantly found your coolness again; were calm and collected like nothing had happened.

Since so many people joined your community, you tried to keep your feelings to yourself more. And with a few exceptions, there was only one person inside the prison fences who also knew your vulnerable side. Who knew every aspect of your personality, every dark abyss of your soul, and loved every single one of it.

Daryl.

"I don't have a lot of experience with it," admitted Carol, "but I suppose these animals are not very frost-proof."

“Not really,” you smiled, “so we should give them nice winter quarters within the walls. Just to be sure."

"But one with enough space, hopefully we'll soon have a lot of chicks," Daryl said mischievously.

"So I don't need to add scrambled eggs to the menu anytime soon," said Carol with a shrug.

"Not for the time being. Sorry."

------------------------------------------

Daryl was leaning on a shovel at the construction site of the new chicken coop. He had just dug the last hole in the ground, in which one of the wooden posts would soon find its place – to form the basic structure of this building.

With a certain amount of pride, he watched you take on the construction supervision of this project with seemingly effortless ease. You organized the individual construction phases cleverly and nimbly, so that even experienced construction workers like Jake and Josh could be guided by you.

You were ready to listen to every single suggestion and weigh the pros and cons without losing sight of the goal.

Daryl was fascinated by this new facet about you, he had never noticed it before.

Here and now you seemed like a born leader. You could guide and be helpful, but at the same time you could be strict and get your way through when it was necessary. You also knew how to handle hammer and nails, how to perfectly level a construction site - and you were absolutely not afraid to lend a hand yourself.

It was obvious that this was not your first construction project to be implemented. Every single one of your movements was safe and you did not hesitate for a moment if help was needed anywhere.

Little by little, on that day, a chicken coop was actually built on the now leveled lawn, with four walls, a roof and a small access bridge for the little animals, whose coop stood on almost 15-inch-high stilts.

Inside you had perches installed and separate niches in which hopefully the next generation would soon be hatched.

"And now," Rick finally wanted to know as he stood next to you, exhausted.

"Now we need some straw so that the girls can make themselves really comfortable in there. And then they can actually move in."

"I'll get the straw," said Daryl, turning around and going on to tackle the easier part of the move.

He knew only too well how difficult it was to catch these damned beasts, and now he was not going to make a fool of himself in front of everyone.

"Then I'll probably take care of the poultry," sighed Rick.

"Do you need help," you asked with a knowing smile.

"No, I think I can handle that."

"If you think so."

Less than five minutes later, you were hunched over with laughter. It was so funny watching Rick as he tried to catch the chickens. Two Woodbury residents wanted to help him but had even less chance of getting within three feet of the poultry.

It was an incredibly funny spectacle, especially when Rick was lying on his stomach in the dirt at some point, and one of the chickens quickly jumped over his back to finally - with a loud cackling - run away.

"Do you think they need help," said Maggie, who meanwhile had to wipe away her tears from laughing.

"If we want to bring the chickens into the barn today, then we have to," you laughed, "but I haven't had such a good time for a long time."

For two more minutes you and your best friend watched the show in front of you, until you finally felt sorry and stepped in to help.

Still giggling, you shook your head, took the bowl with the grains that you used as chicken feed and walked slowly towards the frightened creatures, while Maggie slowly approached from the other side to get any outliers back on the right track.

You shook the bowl in your hand noisily as you walked through the gardens.

"Tuck tuck tuck," you started calling the chickens while you kept shaking the bowl.

It was not long before the animals began to watch you curiously. When they finally approached you - hoping perhaps to get some food - you made your way back to the chicken coop; without stopping to attract the poultry further.

Maggie followed a few yards away to make sure none of the chickens disappeared.

Finally, you stopped in front of the open stall door and sprinkled feed in the stall and on the step bridge for the chickens.

It took less than five minutes and all the animals, including the rooster, were safely stowed in the hen house, ready for the first night in their new home.

"Couldn't you have done that right from the start," said Rick, a little annoyed, as he brushed the dust off his clothes.

The embarrassed grin on his face betrayed that he was not angry at all, but rather was busy trying to keep himself from laughing at himself.

"If we had," replied Maggie, "that would have been only half as fun."

"Yea, Haha, it was so funny." Rick said sarcastically.

“Oh yes, believe me Rick, it was. It definitely was."

“For the future, Rick; ya should never mess with farmer-girls”, grinned Daryl, who of course did not miss the whole spectacle.

------------------------------------------

It was late, just after sunset. You had made yourself comfortable on your bed and were absorbed in that old western novel that you had found in the library of the prison. You had been a veritable bookworm even before the Apocalypse, and now that there was another opportunity to indulge in this hobby, nothing and no one could stop you.

In the soft glow of the kerosene lamp your eyes wandered over the lines on the already slightly yellowed pages, while blissful silence enveloped you. Your day had been busy, and your muscles felt sore after the unfamiliar work.

You would spend the first half of the night alone today. Daryl had taken Rick's shift at the Guard Tower after Judith was weep today and just did not want to let her father go. Apart from the fact that Rick had been more than exhausted after today's chicken adventure.

But Daryl was happy to take over his shift immediately. He just had a weakness for this lil asskicker - as he affectionately called her. One day this stubborn redneck would become a wonderful father. You had known that for a long time, even if he still doubted it.

> KNOCK KNOCK <

"Yes," you looked up from your book, confused.

Actually, you didn't expect any more visitors. The door opened slowly, and Maggie stuck her head through the gap with a smile.

"Hey Y/N/N, am I bothering you?"

“No, not really. Why?"

"Where's Daryl?"

"Guard Tower. He's taken on Rick's shift."

"How long will he be gone?"

“His shift has just started. Why are you asking Maggie?"

"So we have time for a girls-night!"

"Think so?"

"Perfect, I also brought gifts."

Hardly a moment later the young woman was on your bed with you, her legs crossed, while she grinned mischievously at you. It took a few moments before you noticed the cloth sack in her hand.

"Please tell me that you don't plan to take out your nail polish and make-up now. I don't think I'm in the mood for it."

“No, don't get silly. No nail polish, no make-up, and we're not going to do each other's hair. This is going to be more of a grown-up version of a girls-night. "

"Okay Maggie, just for the record, you scare me."

Jokingly, she gave you a clap on the shoulder before opening the sack in her lap and looking inside happily.

"Well, first of all, something that every woman can use nowadays."

And with that she got a cardboard box about 4x2 inches out of the sack.

"May the days be less of a problem during the days," said Maggie, handing you the box.

Confused, you looked at the thing in your hand. It looked almost new and the writing was easy to read.

When you finally understood what you were holding in your hand, you looked in amazement at the woman in front of you.

“This is a lady cup. Where did you find that?"

You could hardly hide your astonishment. You had not seen anything like this in years, and not only once did you wish you had not left yours at home.

“This Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove. Not just in terms of the preserving jars. "

“So that,” you held up the little box, “will make all this menstrual shit a lot easier during an apocalypse. Slowly the tampons became really scarce. And I was so afraid that sooner or later I would have to do the thing with free bleeding too. However, I don't think I would be able to do that with my daily routine."

"You can say that again. Mine is already safely tucked away in my cell."

“It's interesting how the priorities change when the world suddenly ends,” you philosophized while looking at the little box in your hand from all sides.

"You're right."

"I think if the world weren't so close to the edge, I wouldn't be where I am now," you said thoughtfully.

"Are you talking about Daryl and you?"

"No … yes … somehow ... yes. Daryl and I would probably never have met. We would never have gotten together. And to be honest, I don't like this idea."

“Even if that sounds pathetic now, but you and Daryl, you two are meant for each other. I think you would have run into each other either way. I can well imagine that you two would have happened one way or another."

“You have to say something like that, Maggie, you are my best friend. But thanks anyway. And as for you and Glenn ..."

"Oh that was just sex," laughed Maggie.

“And sex became love,” you smiled conspiratorially, “and don't even try to deny it. Any blind person can see how much you love your Korean boy."

“I don't mean to deny anything. But at least it wasn't as much of a drama with Glenn and me as it was with the two of you."

"What are you talking about?”

With mock insult, you cross your arms in front of your body.

“Oh come on, Y/N/N, that was really like a soap opera. You have no idea how desperate we all were because the two of you couldn't handle it."

“Yeah, thank you, don't remind me. With the amount of tears I've shed because of him, this whole prison could be flooded. I'm just glad that Michelle leaves me alone now."

"And I thought you'd be glad you and Daryl are a couple now," Maggie replied mischievously.

"You are so stupid sometimes," you laughed and playfully pelted your friend with your pillow, "of course I am. Very much."

"I know what you mean. She was so after you. That was really no longer normal. She felt like a high school bully to me."

"Yes, thank you. Please don't remind me. I'm just glad she stopped chasing after Daryl."

"That doesn't surprise me at all," said Maggie with a shrug.

"Why?"

"Wait a minute, you don't know?"

"What shall I know?"

"Daryl gave this woman hell."

You stared at Maggie in disbelief, eyes wide and mouth wide in shock.

"He has what? When? Where? Why? How?"

“You were still in the infirmary. Daryl was more or less busy moving. He partly overheard a conversation, "began Maggie meekly, and you noticed how uncomfortable the whole thing was for her, "that was really not intended, honestly. But he heard Carol and I ... well, we talked about how we actually blame Michelle for it - that you almost died. Especially after she scolded you for so long. Though I would have liked to have punched her earlier because of that, just like Carol."

"And how did Daryl react to that," you asked nervously.

"Well, first he confronted us, and then he snapped into protection mode."

"Oh shit."

"Yes. He then went to Michelle and confronted her ... although he didn't even really let her have a say. The woman got the lecture of her life. I'm actually surprised that you didn't hear Daryl in the infirmary, the way he screamed."

“Wow, I know what it is like when Daryl freaks out. I'm almost sorry for the woman."

"Seriously? That woman messed you up for weeks and now you feel sorry for her? I think she deserves what she got."

“I said: I'm ALMOST sorry for her, not that I feel sorry for her. That's a difference Maggs."

“Well, whatever. In any case, that was the last day that Michelle got close to Daryl."

You tried to hold back a grin as you looked at Maggie through your eyelashes.

"Does that sound bad when I tell you that I even enjoy the fact that she has disappeared from our periphery."

“No, it doesn't. I understand that. And I am so glad that you two are finally happy together."

Your friend hugged you lovingly.

"Thanks."

“Where we are on that subject right now. I still have something for you. Or rather for both of you. So that you can have fun without a guilty conscience."

And with that she reached into her cloth sack again and took out another box. Larger than the previous one, and two more that looked like toothpaste wrappers.

You looked at your best friend questioningly.

"Read", she just said and held out the larger box to you, "read."

Confused, you took it from her and began to read. After the first few words your eyes widened, and you stared at Maggie in shock; your mouth opened wide. Hardly a moment later you grabbed one of the other packages and read the label.

"Oh my God. How? Where?"

"As I said, this Amazon warehouse was a real treasure trove."

"Amazon sold something like that?"

"Seems so."

"Oh my fucking god", you shouted a little louder and still couldn't believe what you were holding in your hand.

"Yes, I think you will soon call that more often in these four walls."

Instantly you froze and looked at Maggie in silence and wide-eyed. Hardly three seconds later you both started to laugh loudly, as if on command. You just could not believe what this woman had brought you from that run.

A bloody condom was nowhere to be found within a radius of no idea how many miles. But Maggie had somehow managed to find a diaphragm with the corresponding spermicide gel in this huge hall complex of a former mail order company.

"Do you think the stuff still works," you said thoughtfully after a while.

“According to the expiration date, it should work for at least another year. I don't think it'll take you more than a year to use it up, though,” Maggie said mischievously.

"I don't even know what to say."

"Thanks would be a good start."

"Thanks. I mean that honestly."

"No problem."

"Please don't get me wrong, it's not that Daryl and I aren't having fun, but ..."

"But sex brings a certain closeness that you can hardly achieve in any other way," Maggie completed your train of thought.

"Yes."

"To be honest, I have to show you both my respect."

"Why?"

"Well, living so close together, being together without ever really having sex ... I don't think Glenn and I would manage that. No matter how good he is at the thing down there."

“Well on that point I can't really complain. But thank you for this gift. I really appreciate it."

"You're wellcome."

“Normally I would say I'll think of you when I use it. But in this case …."

"Oh my god please don't."

And with that, both of you laughing, continued to dedicate yourselves to your girls-night.

Maggie and you were just having a great time about how Rick had tried his hand at catching chickens today. It had been a divine spectacle. The two of you had not been able to laugh at something like that for a long time - as you did today at Rick - who at some point lay face down on the floor while the chicken ran nimbly over him.

“Am I botherin’ ya?” You heard Daryl's deep voice at some point.

You and Maggie were surprised to see the redneck standing in the doorway.

"You're back," you asked in amazement, your cheeks still reddened from laughing.

"Yes? Why shouldn't I?"

"Oh god, what time is it," Maggie wanted to know.

"A little after midnight," Daryl replied in surprise.

Neither of you expected that. The time had passed by, and neither of you had noticed how late it was.

“Oh my god, I have to go back. It's a miracle that Glenn hasn't sent a search party yet."

Still laughing, Maggie gathered up her things and quickly made her way back to the cell block, but not without yelling "see you tomorrow".

"Did you have fun?"

"Obviously."

"Was this a kind of girls-night or somethin’?" Daryl asked while he took off his crossbow and put it in its place.

"Yes, something like that."

"Like > painting each other's nails < and so?"

You could hear the sarcasm in his voice and punished the man across from you with a slightly annoyed look.

"Seriously?"

"Yea."

"No. No nail polish, no makeup. And before you ask, we didn't do each other's hair either."

"No, just laughed at Rick tryin’ to catch the chickens today."

A smile tugged on Daryl's lips as he thought of that afternoon's show.

"Oh come on, that was really funny. And you laughed yourself. Don't think I didn't see that."

"The poor man was pretty exhausted after the whole story."

"Yes, but he didn't want my help ... at least initially. I just hope Judith lets him sleep tonight."

"Well, otherwise we have to expect a grumpy Rick tomorrow."

"Unthinkable!"

Theatrically you held your head and fell back on the bed, on which you were still sitting.

"Actually, I didn't expect to find ya awake," Daryl finally said as he took off his jeans.

“Wasn't planned that way either. But Maggs and I kind of lost track of time."

"Typical girls."

"Newsflash smart ass: I'm a girl."

"Already noticed."

Slowly you realized how tired and exhausted you actually were. You stretched yourself with relish, and some of your joints cracked before you relaxed and snuggled into your pillow.

"Tired?"

"Yes, very."

"That's what happens when ya're up all night instead of sleepin’."

"Oh shut up and come here," you said, just slightly annoyed.

"Yes ma'am."

Hardly a moment later you felt the mattress next to you dipping in due to its weight. He put his left arm to the side to make room for you. As if on cue, you snuggled up close to him and nestled your head in the little hollow between his neck and his shoulder.

Daryl put his arm around you. He lovingly began to draw patterns on your back with his fingertips. A feeling of absolute happiness flooded you as you just enjoyed being close to him. The tender caresses on your back relaxed you more and more, and you already noticed how you were slowly falling asleep.

"I'm proud of ya," you heard Daryl whisper.

His rough voice made his chest vibrate under you.

"Why?" You asked, already slightly sleeping.

“Ya did a great job today with the chicken coop. I'm really proud of ya," Daryl muttered before giving you a long kiss on the top of the head, "and Jeff would be too."

[traincat]

I know the comic piracy debate is a never-ending cycle, but in India where I live, you can't get western comics (or manga for that matter). There aren't comic book stores. Sometimes on Amazon you can find collected editions worth more than INR 1000 at least, for the paperbacks. Most older collections, even from the early 2000s, will be upwards of INR 6000. And sure, it's because the exchange value is so low for Indian rupees, but that's still a LOT of money to Indian citizens. You can get digital editions of random odd issues for approx. INR 150, so that's there. But overall it's really a huge investment to buy a physical comic. So yes, I pirate. But I get so guilty when this debate rolls around, every time. I just don't see any other alternative.

I debated whether or not to answer this considering I haven't really addressed the comics piracy issue before so I'm not sure I'm the right account to talk about it, and also because my askbox is not a confessional and I am not a priest, but then some Spider-Man news broke that I feels ties into it this so whatever, we're going for it. The comics piracy debate comes up every couple of months and will probably continue to come up every couple of months until forever and all of these points have been stated before by others because nothing in this debate is new. First things first, you shouldn't feel guilty. I'm going to suggest actually that nobody should feel guilty, unless you are like, a millionaire and you're exclusively pirating indie books. The prices you're quoting are prohibitively expensive but I have some unfortunate news for everyone involved: the prices are really bad in the US, too. If you want good collected editions, especially in hardcover, they're going to run at similar if not quite equal prices. Comics have gone from a cheap hobby to an overwhelmingly expensive hobby.

This is a good article comparing to the cover costs of American comics since the 1960s adjusted for inflation which I think puts some things in perspective. Comics currently cost roughly $5 USD per issue, which doesn't sound that bad, even though most of my monthly streaming services are roughly that price for a whole month's access to a library of content. But it only doesn't sound that bad if you're not buying special issues (the Marvel Pride book retailed for $10), and if you're only reading one or two books a month. The problem is, American superhero comics are specifically designed so you're not reading just one or two books per month -- this is why we have events! And crossovers! Not for the story potential but because it forces the consumer to purchase more product. This is why there's constantly an event running with a checklist of tie-in issues in the back. So now you're spending probably at least $20 a month. If you're a fan with a lot of interest in different titles, and in different publishers, this can easily hit triple USD digits. It's a money pit. It's not affordable to most people. And this is where that new Spider-Man news comes in, because it was announced today that Amazing Spider-Man is going back to a thrice monthly schedule like it used to operate on during Brand New Day. Which sounds good at first -- more comics, yay -- until you realize that's probably going to be $15 USD a month for a one title. That's $180 a year for one title, not including annuals or special issues. That's not feasible for a lot of fans -- young fans, poor fans, fans with other financial obligations etc. And most people aren't reading just one title. I don't know how the X-Men fans are currently financing their Krakoa habit and I'm afraid to ask. There are services like Marvel Unlimited, which make things slightly more affordable, but I imagine the wait for newer issues to hit the service can be alienating for some fans who want to join in current discussions, the library has some incredibly massive holes in it which is unacceptable when it's coming from inside the mouse house, and I believe, although I could be wrong, that it is not available in all countries. Comics are no longer an easily accessible hobby, if you're paying for everything you read.

"But the creatives deserve to get paid" is the common argument and yeah, they do, I'm not arguing that point. They should absolutely get paid and they should get well. I'm a writer, I'm a published writer even, and I want to be a published novelist, and I definitely want to get paid, and I'm reserving the right to be a complete hypocrite about this, as I do with everything in my life, but this is where the difference between indie publications and Marvel publications comes in: Marvel is owned by Disney. There is absolutely no excuse for Disney not to pay their creatives. If they are not getting paid fairly, it's not because you pirated a book -- it's because Disney has a vested interest in not paying their creators, as evidenced by Alan Dean Foster's lawsuit claiming that they are withholding royalties from him. Fans pirating these books are not the reason the creatives are not getting paid fairly -- the creatives are not getting paid fairly for the same reason that Disney park employees experience homelessness, and it's because Disney would rather put that money into the pockets of their executives. There is no debate on that subject. It's easier and perhaps more convenient to blame fans for pirating comics rather than putting all of their money into what has been for years now a prohibitively expensive hobby to keep up with, but the fact of the matter is Disney could pay all of their creatives what they're worth without hurting their bottom line and instead chooses not to. That is not on you, as an individual reader. You have no reason to feel guilty about that, no matter what your circumstances are, and you do not have to justify your actions to either me or the House of the Mouse. I'm with you, and Disney ultimately doesn't care. They're making that money up elsewhere and then not distributing it fairly to the people who create the properties their media empire is built off of. But especially if you're buying older books, you should know that your money is not going to the creative team -- once it's out of publication, they're not going to get any of the money you spent on it. The argument then becomes that you should be supporting local comics stores which yes, is true, but also doesn't apply to everyone, like anon who doesn't have access to local comic book stores. And again, this can become prohibitively expensive -- collections are expensive. Older, hard to find collections can be very expensive. Once something is out of print, all bets are off on what it might be selling for. Buying single issues is only affordable if the single issue isn't desirable or sometimes if it's in exceedingly bad condition. For the sake of transparency, I have a fairly big single issue collection because it's my preferred format, but I had the time to bargain hunt, access to local comic book stores and large comic conventions, and I'm very good at sniping eBay auctions. The most I have ever dropped on a single issue was expensive for me -- and still under three digits USD -- and it's for an issue from the '60s that is not in great condition.

The problem with this debate is that it is generally a nuanced issue that always gets boiled down to "piracy bad" in a way that makes a lot of well meaning and well intentioned fans, especially the ones with extenuating circumstances, feel bad. It's not your fault. You shouldn't feel guilty. There are a huge amount of reasons why someone might pirate something that are not bad reasons and do not make you a bad person who is personally withholding money from the creators -- because you're not. I don't publicly tell people where to pirate comics, mostly because I really don't think it's that hard to find out for yourselves especially because several creators involved with Marvel themselves have, I suspect accidentally, posted pages of their work to social media WITH THE BANNER OF A WELL KNOWN COMICS PIRACY SITE STILL IN THE IMAGE please learn how to crop, so maybe my standpoint on the issue wasn't well known, but there it is. I think readers should, if they are able to financially and otherwise, support the creators they like, but that it should be acknowledged that this is a more complicated issue than it's commonly made out to be on Twitter and that the largest part of the blame needs to be put on the companies making these comics inaccessible to many and who refuse to pay their creators fairly, not on individual fans. Don't feel guilty, anon.

[lightlavenders]

Time for my Entrapdak rant (a.k.a. why Hordak was better for her than literally anyone else, a.k.a. I’m not bias I swear)

as I read through Entrapta/Hordak/princess gang discourse on this site I started to realise the reason why I loved Entrapdak so much in the first place, and I will now talk about that here (some of these points are stolen from better posts). ALSO no matter how much I shit on other characters just know this isn’t an attack of any of them. This is gonna be VERY ENTRAPTA FOCUSED.

OK SO we get introduced to Entrapta pretty early in season 1 and we get to learn a lot about her. It also quickly becomes clear that she’s neurodivergent - something confirmed to be intentional by many of the creators. Entrapta has a passion for technology, science and inventing, and (same as the previous princesses) the best friend squad decide they need her in the alliance so she can build them weapons (whICH SHE NEVER ACTUALLY DOES i think BUT THATS NOT THE POINT). 

Throughout the episode though, the squad (mostly Glimmer bc she’s the one who gets to closely interact with Entrapta the most... Adora being completely out of it and Bow with the kitchen staff) seems to slowly run out of patience for her - Glimmer very obviously puts up a front of tolerance despite her frustration. This is unlike the other episodes, where all the princesses get along in the end and become best friends oh boy! So... we have our only neurodivergent character so far who isn’t really welcomed into the group the same way as the others... and her autistic behaviour is only tolerated because they need her... okay, maybe that’ll change later.

Or not? When Entrapta joins the others on the quest to save Glimmer, she is constantly infantilised by the others and not taken seriously. She runs off to study Horde tech and actually helps rescue Sea Hawk, two very helpful things, but Perfuma talks down to her like a child and PUTS HER ON A LEASH? SHE’S 30!!! SHE WAS TRYING TO HELP! And no one tells Sea Hawk off for getting lost and alerting Scorpia to their presence, which wasn’t helpful at all. Then later, Mermista says she’ll keep an eye on her “in case she decides to befriend any more robots” like okay... she isn’t a child, and she didn’t run off because she wanted to play with robots or something?

Okay, so, Entrapta is left behind, which I won’t blame them for because it definitely looked like she died (they get over it pretty quickly but I digress), and she comes across Catra. Okay! Here’s a chance for Entrapta to make a true friend, right? Or not, because Entrapta and Catra’s friendship is built entirely on manipulation. At least Scorpia was sincere. 

Here Entrapta is again, in a position where she’s being used for her skills and in a we’re-sort-of-friends-but-I-only-tolerate-you-because-you’re-useful situation, with Scorpia probably being her only true friend at the moment. She starts helping out the horde, because they actually let her do what she wants and at the very least don’t treat her like a child. Then, she stumbles into Hordak’s lab.

I’m gonna say this now because I’ll get murdered if I don’t - Hordak is a bad guy. He does bad guy stuff. But so does Entrapta sometimes (I’ll talk about that later) so good morals don’t need to play into their relationship I think. It’s about how they treat each other.

At first, Hordak is very defensive and angry towards Entrapta, as he would be to anyone coming in to his lab without permission and discovering his secret portal project. But then she fixes said portal and he immediately sees her as an intellectual equal. Again, Entrapta has had to prove herself to someone by making herself useful, but it actually goes further. ALSO can I say how Hordak is the ONLY person who interacts directly with Entrapta who doesn’t treat her like a child or emotionally manipulate her, with the exception of Wrong Hordak, Emily, and Imp of all characters... Even Scorpia is guilty of this later.

So, Entrapta and Hordak start working together, and Entrapta is obviously very excited to have someone treat her as an equal (they’re lab partners!!). On top of that, Hordak is also happy to have someone he can actually trust. Catra and Scorpia at separate times both remark on how Entrapta spends all of her time with him now, and who can fucking blame her when he’s the only one that has literally spent all this time growing close to her and understanding her as a person, not just using her, not just tolerating her, not talking down to her constantly. Hordak opens up his trauma to Entrapta and she responds by opening up a bit in return, literally saying that she doesn’t fit in and that Catra doesn’t even talk to her anymore. They are obviously comfortable around each other, and if Hordak was manipulating her, then why was he so distraught when she was taken away? Why did he CRY??? Why did he consider giving up on his life’s purpose and abandoning what is essentially his god for her???

Anyway, stuff happens, and Entrapta shows that she isn’t the irresponsible child everyone thinks she is by agreeing to shut off the portal. But of course, Catra betrays her and sends her away. To die. How nice. Catra tells Hordak that Entrapta betrayed him, and instead of flipping out and turning all Hal Stewart incel “if I can’t have you no one can” he just gets sad... and then later all he really wants is to see her again, even if it is on the battlefield. I’m not sure what he would’ve done so we can’t say for sure, but I seriously doubt he wanted to hurt her.

sidenote - I’m not gonna blame Scorpia for letting Catra doing this, Scorpia had her own shit going on and was essentially trapped in an abusive relationship and she also later makes up for letting Entrapta down by getting her rescued

SO then the best friend squad go to save her from Beast Island, and she’s literally completely given up. Gee, I wonder why. Could it be because it seems like every friend she’s ever had has abandoned her, scolded her, or outright zapped her unconscious and sent her to die in a monster filled island? But the squad save her and affirm to her that they didn’t give up on her and that they’re still her friends. Actions speak louder than words, guys, but okay, cool! To Bow and Adora’s credit, they were the least patronising and mean out of anyone... so, that’s something. Anyway! Affirmations! Some respect from her friends! I hope this lasts... 

It didn’t! Season 5, Entrapta goes along with the others to help find out where Glimmer is. Here is where I quickly have to say something - Entrapta does indeed make some ‘evil’ and stupid decisions sometimes - hacking the black garnet, building robots that attack her old friends, walking out absentmindedly in front of a robot and compromising her team. Some of these things can be explained by her neurodivergence, but do not always justify it. That being said. Entrapta is not evil, she is not stupid, and her “weirdness” does not give her friends the excuse to treat her like a child. 

Here’s where it gets bad!! Perfuma puts Entrapta on a leash AGAIN!!!!!! WHAT? Writers? Wyd?? Not only this, but the others talk about her behind her back, and then scold her without any consideration for how she, as a neurodivergent person, was interpreting the situation. They could’ve explained their feelings to her in a calm way, instead of shunning her and expecting her to pick up on their cues, then exploding at her when they didn’t. THEN THEY CALL HER A BAD FRIEND.... and I feel hypocrisy in this chili’s tonight... and then Scorpia... doesn’t say anything? Girl help. Ik we can’t totally blame her since she was new to the squad and probably didn’t wanna get kicked out or yelled at like with Catra, but please... that is your friend...say something. also why did mermista need to pull her hair and then later say “you’re still a weirdo” like what. why do people ship them? because mermista cried when entrapta ‘died’? Okay??

I think Entrapta actually goes through some character development after this which is pretty cool - she outwardly expresses her concern for Glimmer, which is affirming to her friends the squad, and later at the end of the series, intentionally keeps herself focused during the most high stakes moment instead of running off. I’m not qualified to talk about if these traits, which could be considered traits of autistic people, deserve to be treated as flaws to be fixed, that’s a whole other bag of worms, but yay character development.

Finally, at the end, Hordak properly reunites with Entrapta and he decides to rebel against his creator and his purpose to save her life, showing that Entrapta, and their connection, is his priority now. And once Adora saves Hordak from Prime (thanks Adora), the two finally reunite in a spinning hug - that is literally the most physical contact either of them have had with anyone, how could anyone not believe in their connection and mutual trust???

Mermista gives us one last jab, an understandable one considering Hordak was conquering their planet for years on end, but still - “so, are we all just like, okay with this?” yes girl, we are. He’s literally the only one who ever treated her with real respect and love, the only one who ever prioritised her.

I know some people are gonna be like “just ship her with wrong Hordak” and if you really like that... go ahead I guess? But do we need to force a clone who just got control of his own mind into a relationship, or a girl who is very much in love with someone else into a relationship with one of her friends? You can do what you want though, it’s literally fine, I’m the one who just spent over 1500 words talking about why a 30 year old science woman should go out with an alien warlord.

In conclusion - Hordak and Entrapta deserve each other, because Entrapta deserves someone who treats her right, and I love her.