#I’m proud of how much I cut down on my rant here

[possum-quesadilla]

IM OBSESSED WITH THE LIGHTHOUSE me and my best friend beans have watched it together probably five times (which is impressive because we live 5 hours apart so every time we see each other. its lighthouse time.) ANYWAYS. i'll die on the hill that they did more than just fight and cuddle.

YOU’VE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD UBER AUTISM!!!! BE PREPARED FOR A LONG RANT ABOUT THE LIGHTHOUSE!!!

(Rant under cut, warning for discussions of sexual content, including non-consensual encounters)

That is so slay!! Love that you share it with a friend, haha. I’ve seen it 152 times, only once in theaters for a special anniversary screening and it was MAGICAL. I have a dvd and a special dvd with extra art and the blueprint plans for the lighthouse itself and their clothing that I am happy to share, but OUUUGH I love this movie!! I watch it at least once a week!! I have read through the original script at least six times!!

They definitely did more!! Oh my goodness!! I’m so glad you agree. We of course have the moment they almost kiss while slow dancing, (which is phenomenal) but a lot of people glaze over Howard almost blatantly kissing Wake before he beats him up, when he is hallucinating him as the mermaid!!

And then, right after that, when he tells Wake to bark like a dog, the atmosphere is so TENSE I can’t stand it!! I certainly think after he told him to roll over and stood over him that they did… something. What in particular depends on the reading, but it definitely wasn’t kosher, let’s say. (Whether or not Wake did or even could consent is also very dubious at best).

I love rewatching the movie with a different reading in mind. The Proteus / Prometheus theory, Wake being the liar, Howard being the liar, them both lying, it all being a deathbed hallucination, Howard having killed Winslow bc they were lovers/he had a crush, etc., even different variations of them all put together!

Anyone have a favorite interpretation? Favorite theory? Moment? Anything?

Sorry Bunny… you walked right into my autism trap…

[marvelmymarvel]

Not Special

Kakashi Hatake x NarutoMotherFigure!Reader

Synopsis: Before Naruto, you were a feared kunoichi who killed thousands before the age of 14. Naruto didn't know any of this, which is why you weren't anything special to him. But that all changes after the Hokage asks you to pick the sword up again to protect the village against an impending threat.

Naruto Masterlist: Here

“My mom isn't anyone special. She's just normal!”

Kakashi’s eyebrow shot up at that, eyes landing on the blonde as he talked adamantly to Sakura about how cool the other kid's parents were - and how uncool you were. He pursed his lips, fighting back the urge to spill the truth about you and your past, but he knew you wanted to keep it a secret. You weren't proud of it; it was much bloodier than his was. You gave it up for Naruto when he came along. Your time in the ninja world was short, yet many feared you.

All things Naruto didn't know.

But Kakashi couldn't stop his questions from coming out, wondering why Naruto saw you as a ‘weakling’ in the first place. “You say Y/n isn't special? How come?” Naruto stopped in his tracks, eyes narrowing at Kakashi. “Well, she’s not a shinobi, first off. Secondly, all she does nowadays is help out at the daycare-”

“So that makes her not special?”

“Come on Kakashi-Sensei. You know what I mean! She's just not as strong as we are… Ya know?” 

The silence that hung in the air made Naruto shift on his feet, unnerved by his Sensei's sudden change in attitude. It was almost like he was challenging him to say another word. But Naruto knew better. “You don't know anything about who she was before you came along, Naruto….” 

“Wasn’t she 14? Kakashi-Sensei, I’m not sure she could have done much damage by the time she had turned 14-”

“That's enough” Kakashi’s sharp tone had Naruto shutting his mouth from fear; he didn't know how or why, but his statement cut deep. Kakashi wished you would have told Naruto about your past, why you stopped fighting, and why you kept it hidden. He wouldn't have to continuously hear about how ‘weak’ you were if you had just told Naruto everything.

“Now, let's begin our mission, shall we?”

Days had passed since Naruto left for his mission with the rest of team 7. You made Kakashi promise to keep him safe, which allowed you to focus on other ways to help the community. You had just handed off the last toddler to their parent and headed into the daycare to clean up your room. A figure in the middle of the mess caused you to jump in your spot - “Lord third! You scared me.”

He hummed at that before leaning against a bookshelf, pipe in between his teeth as he took in the chaotic room. The Third Hokage was against the path you chose; he’d have you as his personal guard if it were his way. He respected your wishes and respected them for 12 years, but now, as the threat of an enemy loomed over the village, he was coming back to you with a new offer.

One you simply cannot refuse.

“It is quite a shame that you gave up the Jonnin life at 14. You were a fine student, almost, if not better than Kakashi was,” He started as he moved through the room, his old eyes scanning over the arts and crafts drying on the tables. 

Your lips pursed at the sound of the Third Hokage’s words. You’ve heard this rant before; it was his specialty. He’d build you up with praise and acknowledgment, making you feel like you were the only person who could save the village before throwing an offer for you to return to the ninja life. You couldn't deny you missed it but didn't miss the blood. Didn't miss the death. Raising Naruto was more rewarding than killing hundreds of people for the village's sake.

Yet, you listened. Soaking up every word he told you as if you needed to hear them. He continued, recounting all of your successes before stopping to look at a particular picture on the wall. It was of you and your classroom, all in the picture, smiling. Did he want to do this? You sighed before bending down to pick up the toys on the floor.

“You don't just give praise without a request. Get on with it, Lord Third. I have a classroom to clean up.”

His eyes flicked to your figure. Your tone alone told him that your walls were up, and you wouldn't let him easily throw his suggestion over them. You would put up a fight, but maybe if he added Naruto into the mix, then you’d listen.

“You care about Naruto’s well-being, yes?”

Your body froze as your fingers hovered over a toy, your heart lurching in your throat as you braced yourself for this new approach. This was a sick, twisted way of getting what he wanted. He’s done this to you many times before, and while you know it's a trap, you always walk into it. You don't answer him, but your silence does.

“There's a threat looming over the village… I’ve gathered my best men, but I’m still missing the greatest one of all….” You sighed at that, eyebrows crinkling in pain as you felt the guilt creeping up your neck, practically strangling you with its cold bony fingers. “Naruto won't be safe if you can't help protect the village.”

There it was. 

Your e/c eyes flicked to his as you stood up straight. He was right in a sick, twisted kind of way. If you were involved, the threat would be easily avoidable. But how would you tell Naruto? You never once told him how many you’ve saved and never how many you’ve butchered in the name of the leaf village. He didn't know of the nightmares you shared with Kakashi or the vomiting due to the stress your young body was under.

He didn't know any of it. 

To him, you were just a daycare teacher. But to the village, to your Hokage, you were more. 

“I would like you to join the ANBU. When the threat passes, I will let you decide if you want to stay in the ANBU or return to this lifestyle.”

Your eyes brimmed with tears, and you fought the panic in your chest. You’ve been on a couple of missions with the ANBU; they were more ruthless than you were. Your teary eyes drifted to the picture beside the Hokage, lip pursing as you took in the smiling faces of the children you cared for daily. It wasn't just about you or Naruto; it never was.

“What do you say?”

You looked back at him before nodding slowly, “I will join the ANBU, but once this is over. I will never be picking up a Kunai again.”

Naruto bounded back into the village as their mission got cut short. The news spread like wildfire that a threat was coming down on the village, and all ninjas had been requested to return for backup. He raced to the daycare despite Kakashi’s yells. He had to get you to safety. You were the only person he cared for the most in this entire world. If anything happened to you, he would lose himself.

Naruto screamed your name as he ran up to the daycare, flinging open the doors as he flew down the hall. The lights were off, and a cold breeze flew past him as his eyes landed on the sight of your daycare room. Bodies lay everywhere, causing his eyes to widen at the sight of the enemy ninja strewn along the floor with jagged stabs in their chests. He backed out of the room; breath growing labored as he thought through where you may be. Naruto wasn't thinking clearly as he flew out of the daycare building. He would have known that the trap was set just for him if he were thinking clearly.

And he walked right into it.

A bag was shoved over his face as he was tackled. He called out for help, kicking and screaming for the men to get off him. The sound of slicing filled the air, and warm liquid splattered all over him; bodies were shoved off him one by one. Before long, he had freed himself from the group and ripped off the face covering. The sight before him made him stare in awe - A female ANBU officer was slaughtering the ninja one by one without breaking a sweat. It was as if they were nothing to her, almost as if she could take a hundred of them all at once and never falter in her movements. Finally, her sword drove through the chest of the last remaining ninja.

Naruto’s mouth hung open as she ripped the sword from the man's chest, sighing as she looked down at herself. She was drenched with blood. It was on her uniform, on her mask, in her hair, on her hands. The only thing she could wipe off was her sword. 

“Wow! That was, uh… Thank you” 

Her head snapped to the side to look at him before she once more let out a sigh. She slid the blade against her pant leg, trying to wipe off the blood she had accumulated in the past couple of hours. She put the sword back in the sheath on her back before storming towards him; reaching down, she hauled him back onto his feet.

“Why are you here?! Where is Kakashi?!” 

Naruto’s eyebrows furrowed at her words, the voice sounded familiar, but his brain refused to connect the dots. “You know Kakashi-Sensei? You’re starting to freak me out, lady.” The woman froze before him, realizing she had made a deadly error and there was no going back. She sighed before lifting her hand to her mask, “You can't tell anyone, Naruto.”

Naruto’s jaw dropped at the sight before him, “Hey… What the hell?!”

You shot a warning glare, silently scolding him for his language, but he didn't care. You were the ANBU lady??? The one he just saw brutally murder the 20 men lying around you. His eyes wandered around your face, brows crinkling in confusion as his brain caught up to the fact that you were in front of him, wearing an ANBU uniform and covered in blood. Lots and lots of blood.

“But, you’re not a shino-”

You sighed at his statement before he even finished, “A shinobi, yes I haven't been one for years” Naruto grew more confused at your confession. “For years? You were a shinobi before?” A small laugh flew from your lips as you face-palmed yourself. The blood on your hand smeared onto your face, making you cringe at the feeling and smell. Your heart started to race as you brought your hand from your face, eyes wide as you took in the crimson staining your skin. It made you feel sick; you didn't miss this at all. 

“Didn't I tell you to stay by my side Naruto?” Naruto jumped at Kakashi’s words as he landed beside you, slowly approaching you as if not wanting to spook you. “God, I hate this, Kakashi,” you whined out as you tried to look away from the blood on your hands. Kakashi quickly wiped it away with a small rag, reassuring you that you were doing something good, even if it meant killing people. There had been many nights where he’d have to reassure you in such a manner. The guilt you felt drove you mad; in a way, you were thankful for Naruto, who gave you a way out.

“How many did you kill, Y/n?” Kakashi whispered as he looked around the daycare. He was trying to gauge how many angry men would come after you. “About 70” 

Naruto gasped at the number, eyes widening as you turned into Kakashi. “So we should prepare for 100 more coming your way?” 

You nodded as your lip quivered - “I don't want to kill them. I can't do it anymore. I’m so tired.”

Kakashi nodded before starting to take off your vest. If he could get you out of the recognizable outfit and away from the fighting, he could quickly finish off the 100 angry men for you. “I can handle them; it's fine-”

“70?!” 

Your eyes shot to Naruto’s, and you froze at his awe-struck face. You didn't know if he was amazed or disgusted, but both reactions would have made your stomach churn all the same. Kakashi felt your sickness by the way you swayed in his arms, “Naruto, now is not the time-”

“I mean, how badass are you!? And you didn't even tell me?!?!”

Your eyes grew wide as you scanned the tree line for incoming intruders; suddenly, your fear-stricken face turned hard. Snatching up the mask from the ground, you shoved it on before drawing your sword. Kakashi held his breath. Your hearing was much sharper than his ever was. Before you knew it, 100 ninjas surrounded you three. You’ve fought more in one go; it was a simple task compared to other things you’ve had to do.

But doing it in front of Naruto made you falter. 

Did you want him to see the beast inside of you? The beast you hid from him as best you could. You let him believe you were boring to conceal that you were a kunoichi feared by many nations. You killed many men without mercy because you were instructed to, just as a good soldier does.

One of the ninjas looked toward Naruto, causing you to jump into action. You screamed for Naruto to run before slicing your sword to kill them quickly before they could get their hands on him. Naruto, for once, listened and ran to hide behind the building wall, far enough from the fighting to stay safe but close enough to watch you fight through the group. Kakashi did help a little, but you did most of the work. He was amazed and felt slightly guilty at his previous assumptions about you being weak. The display before him was anything but weak.

Within minutes, you had thinned down the group until the last one remained. Naruto expected you to kill him, but you did something else entirely. Your fingers gripped the bleeding man's collar, ripping him up so he was face-to-face with your ANBU mask. “Who do you take directions from? Who was the leader of this attack??” Your words were icy and full of hatred, not full of the warmth and love Naruto was used to. A shiver ripped down his spine as he watched you cock your head at the spluttering man. “Who. Is. In. Charge.” your snarl made the man break as he screamed out the name of the person in charge of the entire thing. You scoffed at him before driving your sword slowly into his chest. It was deliberately pushed in at a location that would  ensure a slow and painful death. It was then that Naruto realized this was the same ninja that looked his way at the beginning of the fight.

You ripped out your sword, letting the man fall to the ground as you watched him gasp for breath. Blood bubbled up from his throat before spewing from his mouth, he wouldn't die from internal bleeding, but he would die from drowning in the blood pooling in his lungs. Your head turned to the side, and while Naruto couldn't see your eyes, he knew your gaze was locked on him. You scared him and amazed him at the same time. He was amazed that you had taken down so many men without a worry in the world, but he was also scared at how fast you turned off your emotions when you went into killing mode.

You weren't the same. He didn't like this side of you.

A sigh flew from your lips as you read him like an open book. He was always so easy to see right through. You saw the fear radiating off him, causing you to drop your sword and rip off your mask as if trying to show him it was still you. That you were still the mom he loved so much. 

That you were nothing special.

But that wasn't true anymore; at least the last part wasn't.

You stepped towards him, head cocking as he cowered behind the wall. “Naruto, honey, I won't hurt you.” He didn't budge, didn't dare to, as you walked closer to him. “You aren’t my mom. I don't know who you are, but-”

“You’re right. I’m not your mom,” you stated firmly as you dropped into a crouch feet away from him. He jumped in his spot, flying back as you startled him. You smiled at his jumpiness but knew that this reaction was warranted. His lips trembled at your statement, and you realized your mistake. “No, no, that's not what I meant. The mom you know is not the mom in front of you. The person standing in front of you is someone that hasn't existed for 12 years. Naruto, I hate this person more than you would ever know. I let this person go so I could raise you, and after tonight, she will never come back.” You moved to sit cross-legged before him, hoping the childlike position would reassure him that the one he was talking to was his mom. 

The old you was far gone.

Naruto’s blue eyes flicked from you to Kakashi, who stood quietly behind you, hands in his pockets as if all this was old news. Because it was. Kakashi was the one that got you out of this mindset, and it silently terrified him just how easy it was for you to slip back into it. He knew he needed to bring it up later but now was not the time.

Seeing that his Sensei was calm and collected, Naruto nodded at your words before crawling towards you. Your eyebrows furrowed as he approached you, but they soon relaxed once you realized what he was doing. Naruto climbed into your lap, forcing your arms to wrap around him and cradle him in your embrace. You bit back a chuckle and pulled him in more, the blood smeared all over his clothes, but he didn't mind. He just needed to be reminded that you were his loving, carefree, warm-hearted mom. He didn't want a mom that was special. He didn't want a mom that was a renowned shinobi. He just wanted you. As you held him close, you decided then and there that you would never pick up a sword again, because caring for Naruto was more rewarding than wearing a mask and protecting the village. 

And nothing would change that.

[l3viat8an]

HI RO!!!! it’s been forever since I’ve been here oh my 😭 how are youuuu???

I’m just having. many a thot thought. abt poly MC getting praised and pampered and overstimmed just getting all the sweet, gentle (soft dom??? I guess??) vibes from the bros after doing really well during the semester/term at RAD.

maybe they tease or double down on praising bc they know it makes MC shy but also that they actually enjoy it 👀 maybe getting tied up is involved 👀

but overall they’re not mean, they just want MC to know they’re proud of them, so what better way to do that than going to the extremes to show them?

anyway that’s my little rant, I just thought it was cute and wanted to share 😋🫶🏻

have a good day, and happy holidayssss!!! make sure you take care of yourself <3

- ♈️ anon

Hiiii ♈️!!! I’m good! Tired from holiday prep but good lolol how have youu been??? + it’s late for me so ignore if this has any typos as usual jsjsj

Just imagine Asmo getting all excited when he sees how well you did! His sweetheart is soooo smart and that deserves some kisses right~ he he’s going to cover your face in quick little kisses, giggling the whole time! It doesn’t matter who else is around, you deserve the praise and the blush on your cheeks is so cute!

Then Satan walks over and basically pushes Asmo out of the way- completely ignoring Asmo’s pouting and saying that if anyone praises you it should be him. after all he’s the one that tutored you all semester and helped when you didn’t know something about Devildom law- his kiss is deep and would’ve been a lot longer if Mammon and Levi weren’t yelling whining about how they helped you too!!! This is all just Asmo and Satan looking for an excuse to act all lovely dovey!! they’re both jealous and would prefer to have you alone- whispering sweet praise in your ear and placing soft kisses all over your body <3

Belphie just laughs, obviously you’re enjoying the attention so what’s the big deal? Beel’s nodding along- tho he really wants a kiss too, he’ll wait his turn.

and while he’ll let them indulge you for a few minutes Lucifer is quick to end it all, saying that you did wonderful as expected because; they all helped you. He walks over and kisses the top of your head, whispering just loud enough that you can hear him “I’m proud of you, darling.” and chuckles when he pulls away and sees your face is bright red.

Nsfw bit below here <3

Oooor Lucifer joins in on praising you!! You really did so well and Asmo’s right, that deserves a reward~ but what should it be?

Mammon shouts something about how you should just spend the day with him! He’ll spoil ya as much as you want!

Levi cuts Mammon off, stumbling over his words but promising that he’ll do whatever you want….uhhh if you want to spend time with him….to celebrate- and Satan cuts right back in saying that he’s the one that’s going to spoil you! It’s only fair!

‘n so on- obviously they’re not gonna agree right away, but it’s cute to watch you get excited over the way they fight for your attention!

Eventually it’s Belphie that has the best (?) (depends on who you ask tbh) idea. They could just share you-

Asmo whines that it’s not fair!! He didn’t get to say that first but Belphie just rolls his eyes and continues; after all, you worked so hard to get good grades~ it’ll be his…..their reward to you, kissing, praising and touching you until you can’t think anymore.

Just let them worry about you, yea? You know it’ll feel good too….all they want to do is make you feel good, spoil you, fill you up with cocks and cum until the only thoughts left in your cute little head are about them and how good it feels to be spoiled-

and for once the others all agree- if it’s what you want ofc <3

[nohoney]

Bakugou would listen to you rant all about work. Even though he’s the one out on the streets with more exciting stories to tell, one of his favorite things is to hear you talk about your own work. He follows and nods along with whatever work story you have for him for the day, always attentive but never telling you what you should do to handle it (as he had learned from a prior relationship).

“I can tell he fuckin’ hates me, you know?” You continue on about your current work events as you sit on the countertop and watch Bakugou cut vegetables, “He keeps on bringing up my old manager as if she has anything to do with it now. Like, no motherfucker! You answer to me now and I’m saying pay your stupid invoice!”

The vegetables for dinner are set aside while the oven is still preheating. Two pieces of pork chop are taken from the fridge and is set aside on a clean plate as Bakugou looks for spices to rub into the meat. “So what happened baby? Did he pay? Y’said you were dealing with this for almost two weeks.” He asks you, genuinely curious if your annoying client is actually complying with you. The thought in his head is wondering how you handled it.

“I have to read you this email that I wrote. I gotta say the professional ways of dissing someone in email is something I finally understand now.” You laugh as you pull up your work email on your phone. Word for word you read out your well thought out response to your difficult client, not backing down and upholding work policy as you are expected to. Bakugou had never really bothered with any type of skill of being professional through communication in his job; it’s what his team is for while he gets the really privilege to cuss as he pleases and have his team handle it for the public. “Here is how I signed off, I think it’s probably my most eloquent and business-like ‘fuck you’ I’ve written so far.”

You clear your throat first before reading aloud, “‘I hope that the explanations of how to navigate your account has cleared up any confusion you may have and that you are able to move forward in compliance with our company policy, if you have any further questions then please let me know.’ God I know he’s going to hate me as soon as he reads it!”

He chuckles, happy that you know how to stand your ground in such a manner that Bakugou knows he struggles in. “You tell him, baby.”

“I fucking did Katsuki!” You boast with a proud little smile as you hop off the countertop and go to his side as he heats oil in a pan. “Sorry, I’ve been going on about this annoying client for a while. I wanna hear about your work today Tsuki.”

Bakugou shakes his head though and urges you to talk about what else happened at your work. The meat sizzles as he presses it into the pan, crackling and sizzling in a way that’s reminiscent of his quirk but to a much lower degree. The oven beeps to indicate that preheating is finished and you move to put all the vegetables into the glass pan and stick it in for him, already setting a timer before he can even ask. “What about that other guy? The one who keeps on saying that he’s getting investors so he wants to make you wait a little longer?” He asks you when he recalls another client you complained of a few days ago.

You excitedly pop off about your work again, unknowing how you calm Bakugou down with your own work stories. Your series of responsibilities that he wouldn’t know the first clue how to handle are interesting to him to hear how you handle yourself. It’s simple compared to what he does but in no way is it easy either. To see you struggle sometimes with your own career wasn’t easy for him but you were also strong enough to handle it all the same.

And he liked to think that he made it easy for you to handle because he wanted to hear anything and everything about your job that’s so different from his. “Tell me about the parking permits, did that get solved yet?” He asks as he starts to set food on the plates.

“No! I’m on week three of dealing with it and it’s ridiculous! I sent everything in so early and they deal with it so late!!”

Bakugou listens with a happy heart to hear you talk, never wanting you to apologize over the things that frustrate you. And by the end of your rants, even he feels a little lighter as he readies to get in bed with you.

And the next day as he’s just about to enter a meeting in his agency, Bakugou gets a text from you.

[1:57 pm] omg i need to tell you what this mofo emailed me when we’re home

He looks forward to it, letting a little smile come onto his face. He can see you all cute and puffed up and mad, and he can’t wait to hear about it.

[1:58 pm] can’t wait baby. love you.

You text him back within seconds.

[1:58 pm] love you!!!

Bakugou can’t wait to be home and listen to you.

[iheartduckie]

cutting their shirts

a/n - this is my first post dedicated to dad! haikyuu boys. based off this tiktok.

bokuto kotaro | miya atsumu | hinata shoyo | sakusa kiyoomi | iwaizumi hajime

domestic fluff x fem! reader (word count: idk)

notes - reader is referenced as “mommy/mama”, implications of breastfeeding UNEDITED ASF FR 2021 TOO SOB

——————————

#10; bokuto kotaro [!]

-> you were a little confused when bokuto excitedly told you not to worry, and insisted that you went on that outing with your friends. you only waved it off as him wanting to spend time with the baby. even before walking through the door, you were able to hear bokuto’s laughter from outside. entering quietly, your hand went up to your mouth to cover your laugh. bokuto turned to face you, and greeted you with a smile. “look, your mama ’s here,” he said, lifting her to face you. she giggled happily as you peppered her face in kisses. you sat down next to bokuto, who welcomed you in his arms, watching you both with a warm smile.

#13; miya atsumu [!]

-> he let the idea marinate in his mind after he heard bokuto talk about it in practice. after you left the room to use the bathroom, he threw on the prepped shirt and secured the bottles, picking up the baby to feed her. “‘m good at this, right darlin’? i should do this more often..” you walked into the room and was greeted by the sight of atsumu supposedly ‘breastfeeding’ your daughter. he stared at you, trying to hide his smile, before you bursted out laughing. “our angel is perfectly fine with it-” “i’m not letting you that to our daughter, tsum, give her to me”

#15; sakusa kiyoomi [!]

-> you watched as his face scrunched up from the tiktok you showed him, and laughed when he clutched your daughter a little tighter, who giggled at his actions. “your mommy is being silly princess, i love you but i’d never do that.” he said, playing with her curls and softly smiling at her when she happily buried her face into his chest. “you’re lucky your cute, omi” “or what? i’m literally your baby daddy and husband” “i’ll ask tsumu to do it then” later, you received a call from atsumu, who begged you to not to ask him whatever sakusa was ranting about

#21; hinata shoyo [!]

-> he actually proposed the idea to you, and you helped him set everything up. “babe! look i’m doing it” you decided to film it with a smile, as the result was successful. he was able to feed your son, and looked so proud while he did it. the video was sent to the msby group chat, and someone posted it on the verified twitter account, tagging the alder’s twitter account to do the ‘challenge’ too. hinata accidentally started a fad, and somewhat a meme.

#; iwaizumi hajime [!]

-> iwaizumi wouldn’t do this, no matter how much you begged, and you accepted the fact. when he walked into your shared home after a tiring practice, the last thing that he wanted to see was oikawa feeding his daughter with bottles through a tee shirt. you laughed at his tired expression, and went over to greet him with a kiss on his cheek. oikawa froze in fear, while you picked up your son from his hold with a smile. “i understand i said ‘no’ to your request, but maybe ask me again before asking shi- poopykawa. now cover his ears, i just need to tell poopykawa something”

——————————

reblogs let others see my work! notes and feedbacks are highly appreciated <3 boop

mahal ka MWAH

[oh-my-bindery]

Drarry: I love that Harry the hero is down for murder. But Draco the guy who comes from a long line of a family of dark magic is the one that hates murder (it's literally canon Draco can not kill anyone for shit) and it gives me so many feels. It's partly because I love healer Draco. But also because Harry is reckless and does not have a lot of self preservation. His idea of justice is like you die by the sword.

Definitely! I draw all my conclusions from canon.

Buckle up bc I went on a rant here

The way Draco is written and what we are shown of his actions and character, we can clearly conclude at least few things:

- Draco is a person who fights with his words, that cut deeper than a knife. He knows what he is doing and wants it to hurt. I believe he does it to feel better about himself.

- Draco can’t kill. He literally can’t kill. Even his wand (that chose him) is one that has the most difficult time turining into Dark Arts. It reflects on his character. He is different from his family.

- Draco is a very sensitive boy as we are told by Moaning Myrtle in HBP. We also get to see him break down and for the first time show his real emotions which is a new thing from him. Harry has never seen him cry. Which leads me to ask, why? All 6 years and no one saw Draco cry before? No one saw him express deeper emotions that his usual proud and snarky / bully mask? It is definitely connected to his family, most likely Lucius, as Narcissa is the one who even though believes in blood purity shit, never takes a Dark Mark, never fights for Voldemort, her main concern is always Draco. She has so much love for him. It is probably why Draco even knows that he can allow himself to cry, even if it’s on his own.

- Moaning Myrtle also tells us that Draco is lonely.

- On Harry Potter wiki and Pottermore (I think) it says that Draco was never able to produce a Patronus spell as he didn’t have a strong enough of a happy memory - well that’s sad seeing as Harry was able to do it with how shit his life was.

Draco is supposed to seemingly be rich, get everything he wants, he has a family that is alive , Mother who loves him SO MUCH, father that would she if anything happened to him (well he failed to protect Draco from the worst and then did nothing after the fact, continued being awful but that’s another rant), Slytherins seem to like him, he has some friends although I’m not even sure he likes them or if they like him (from canon we know that by Deathly Hallows - Crabbe and Goyle hate him. Draco never really liked Blaise (or wasn’t fond of him. He tolerated Pansy and had some trust towards her.)

So even though Draco smilingly has all, he doesn’t have a strong enough of a happy memory.

- Draco is terrified of killing someone, so much so he stops eating, keeps to himself and stops being himself when tasked with killing Dumbledore.

When Harry sees Draco in his Voldy visions - Draco looks terrified and broken when asked to torture Rowle - the sight of how Draco is being pushed into doing those horrible things and how much he could be suffering- canonically makes Harry try to get rid of the visions because he doesn’t want to see Draco torture people or if he refuses/ can’t- see Draco being tortured or killed.

- Draco doesn’t care if he dies. Why? Who knows? But he literally lies to his whole family that are depending on him to identify Harry as Harry Potter at the manor and he just doesn’t. He knows what are the consequences of failing to capture Harry are (probably being killed by Voldemort, him and his family.) and Draco knows it is Harry. If he was cruel and and awful person he would say “yep, that’s Potter” but instead Harry notices that Draco looks just as terrified, hands shaky as Harry was. Draco literally would rather have Harry survive and himself die than other way around. It is SO CANON.

And Harry wise

- Harry is super hot-headed as we know.

I think looking at his reaction when Sirius was killed, he literally sprung from Remus’s arms, shooting, shooting curses after Bellateix. He crucioed her. No, thinking, he just does.

When people whom Harry loves / cares about are killed or harmed Harry has no thoughts just do. Give them hell. He will deal with consequences later - he is bad at the ‘dealing with the consequences bit though. He doesn’t want to be a killer, and hates himself for being capable of it.

When Snape kills Dumbledore, Harry is in SO MUCH RAGE. He goes after Snape and literally uses Sectumsempra on him, knowing what it would do- if not helped Snape literally would die lol.

But when it comes to Draco and Harry almost killing him, knowing about Dracos Dark Mark, him being suspicious all year, being horrible to him all other years - ABSOLUTELY NOT ACCEPTABLE.

He leaves Draco alone even after he find out Draco was going to kill Dumbledore.

In conclusion, Harry would 100% kill for Draco, no questioning it. He wouldn’t feel bad about the person being killed but about the fact that he is capable to killing.

[saintobio]

Hi saint!!! I hope you're doing well. You've been very active these days, and I hope you're still taking time for yourself!!🫶

First thing first...BLACK CANVAS!!😭😭👏

GIRL, YOU BROKE MY HEART. It was actually a very realistic, heartwarming but still heartbreaking ending, but I'm glad sukuna had the chance to prove himself and to feel good with the person he is. It makes me so incredibly happy. It's still a little bitter how he was able to move on and get engaged after just two years, but it's for the best of both him and mc. As regards mc, I can't understand if she's in a relationship with satoru? She seemed to be attracted to sukuna and to have some feelings still, but I don't know 👁👄👁

As for sy, the sneak peak you posted yesterday kinda broke my heart. I feel like both mc and satoru are struggling, and mc, being traumatised and skeptical towards gojo, can't let him explain the situation. I kinda wish she would hear him out🥲

And I wonder what akemi situation actually is👁👄👁 and I also wonder if mc will misunderstand something since, in the sneak peak, she interrupted gojo right when he was about to tell her (supposedly)

I've ranted enough!! Thank you so much for interacting with us Saint!! Sending you love🫶🫶💗

i am doing great, thank you 🥹 i’m working from home for the next 2 weeks so i’ve been having so much free time lately.

also for blank canvas bahaha i was satisfied w the ending :’) but what i wanted to show in sukuna’s engagement is this topic you guys might’ve read somehwere, where the man would usually ask the next woman in his life for marriage when he feels ‘most ready’. so he could be with someone for 10 years and not get married, and then jump onto the next relationship for 2 months and immediately feel like he’s ready to be tied down. that’s kinda how it went for him. but still, he acknowledges that yn was the right person wrong time.

and yes, yn is in a relationship with bc!satoru. but since there was no proper closure between her and sukuna, she was unable to control her feelings around him. by the end of bc, she definitely let go of their past now, and she’s fully ready to commit to satoru.

(gaaaah let me just add bc!sukuna was so fun for me to write abt bc my irl bf is also a biker and i’m his proud backpack lollll he’s also looking to get an r1 soon 🤧 i might just fulfill my bc fantasy there)

now for sy! the reason miscommunication happens between gojo and yn a lot is bcos they’re so scared of being hurt and ‘not chosen’ to the point where they’d just not hear the other person out. i think this specifically points to yn bcos she just has that perception that everything gojo does will always end up hurting her, so she’s just not trying to hear it anymore regardless of what he has to say 😅

anyway, this is probably my longest answer here so i’ll cut it here now. again, thank you sm for reading and supporting my fics <33

[winterrrnight]

omg congrats on 100 my love! i’ve said it once i’ll say it a million times- you deserve all of them and so many more ♥️ i’m so proud of you!!

that being said!! can i request ‘before the coffee gets cold’

28 with drew PLS PLS PLS

thank you soooo much raye!!! you mean the whole world to me, and you've been a supporter since the beginning <3 i love you sooo much <3

our convo about me wanting to open a book shop + coffee shop really striked to me and i thought to include that au idea in this request! I hope you like it 🤍

coffee hearts

PAIRING: drew starkey x gn!reader

SUMMARY: you own a 2-in-1 book store and coffee shop, but you're usually working at the coffee shop side. a new customer who catches your eye because he loves to read books becomes a daily customer at your place, and you find yourself falling a bit more for him every single day.

WARNINGS: fluffy

EDITH SPEAKS: this is for everyone who wishes to bond with someone over their love of books. I promise you, someone is out there who's obsessed with reading and fictional worlds just the way you are, who will read with you whenever you want, who will listen to all your book rants. It's only a matter of time <3

PROMPT REQUESTED: "you need to know that I've grown to care for you. Deeply."

100 followers celebration (now closed) || navigation

You were cleaning the counters, quickly wiping your cloth against the marble to rid it of its stains. It's only been just an hour since you opened up your shop, so there aren't many customers. It's all very relaxed at the moment, and you have enough time to prepare the few desserts you were thinking of earlier.

The ringing of the bell cuts through your thoughts and you look up to see someone walk in front the bookstore section of your shop. You smile at him as he reaches you; now standing opposite you. You can't admit but think he's kind of pretty.

"Hello, how can I help you?" You smile, getting your notepad and pencil quickly.

"Hey, could I get a hot mocha with a strawberry scone?" He says. You nod as you write it down on your notepad. When you look up again, you notice he's holding 'A Little Life' in one hand.

"Looks like you're in for a ride," you giggle, gesturing to the book in his hand.

"Oh my god is it actually as depressing as everyone says? I thought they all were just exaggerating," he says, and you giggle a little harder at his words.

"Yes it is! But it's also one of the most beautiful book I've ever read. Reading it is definitely a roller coaster of emotions, but it's all worth it," you smile at him. He returns you the smile as you leave your place at the counter to go and prepare his coffee. Instead of sitting down at one of the tables, he decides to sit on the barstool right in front of your counter.

When you turn around, you weren't expecting to see him sitting there. You feel your cheeks heat up a bit at the quick eye contact you make, immediately returning to your work. Once you've made his coffee and placed his scone on a plate, you go ahead to hand it to him.

"There you go," you say, wiping your hands on your towel as the aroma of the coffee and the scone rises up and mixes in the air surrounding you two.

"This looks absolutely wonderful, thank you," he says, before diving in. There's so much you could do at the moment: prepare the desserts you wanted to in advance, get some coffee going for the afternoon rush, or just help your friend who works at the bookstore section of your shop while you're free, but instead you decide to stay here with this unknown person who suddenly is the only thing on your mind.

"What else do you like to read?" You ask, your elbows on the counter as your hands prop up your face.

"Classic literature, mostly, but I do like to read some of these uh... popular books every now and then," he smiles, biting into the scone.

"Well, if you're looking for popular book suggestions, I would love it if you can read 'The Song of Achilles'. Another roller coaster of emotions. It had me sobbing at 3 am in my room," you laugh reminiscing your memory of crying over a book which stole your heart with its perfect love story.

"I've heard so much about it! What's it about?" He questions.

You take in a deep breathe, ready to give him a detailed synopsis about everything in that book. "Its about two lovers Achilles and Patroclus..."

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

Since then, this guy, whose name you learnt is Drew, has been coming to your coffee shop almost every single day. You've memorised his order by heart, and you have it ready just a few minutes before his daily arrival time. You always find yourself awaiting for him, taking a peek outside the window every few minutes to see if he's there or not. When your eyes do spot him, they light up like the stars.

"Hey," Drew says cheerfully, as he walks inside and gives you a big hug from his side of the counter. You notice him keep a book next to himself on the counter, and you almost squeal when you look at the title.

"You got The Song of Achilles oh my god!" You yell, trying your best to contain your excitement but failing miserably.

"I haven't started reading it yet, but I'm so excited for it," he smiles at your giddy reactions, your eyes wide and the most beautiful smile etched on your lips. "But there's something I want to give to you."

You watch him curiously as he pulls out another book from his tote bag. It takes you a second to figure out the title on top, but when you do, you realise it's 'Pride and Prejudice'. There are coloured tabs sticking out of the margins of the book, the book is a little torn at the edges indicating it's been used well, and it's also a bit thicker than its original thickness, and you realise it's because of all the post its and notes he's attached in the book.

"You told me you've wanted to read to Pride and Prejudice for so long now," he says softly, "so I got you my annotated version of it. I hope it tells you a lot more about me, things not many people know." He smiles, moving the book closer to you. You remember one of your conversations with him in which you casually mentioned you've never read Pride and Prejudice but have always wanted to, and your heart flutters thinking how he remembers such a little detail.

You look at the book; actually, scratch that; you look at the treasure in front of you with awe. Drew's annotated copy of Pride and Prejudice is sitting in front of you, and it's too tempting to just start reading it right now.

You believe annotations can tell you so much about a person, things tucked so safely in their soul which are only revealed at rare moments. And to have Drew's annotated copy with you, you know you're in for a big ride.

"Drew this is, wow," you whisper, holding the book so carefully in your hands, as if you're worried it's so fragile it will fall apart right at the moment. "Thank you," you look up from the book to see his deep blue eyes looking back at you.

He ever so gently says your name, in a way which makes your heart rush a million miles per hour, and takes your hand in his. "I've never given my annotated copy of any book to anyone ever before," he says. Drew swallows the big lump in his throat before continuing. "You need to know that I've grown to care for you. Deeply. That's why I want you to read it."

You cannot believe what you're hearing. You feel your heart brimming with emotions, and in just a span of a second you wrap your arms around him, pulling him so close to you.

"This means so much to me," you smile, pulling back from the hug. "Thank you Drew."

He only smiles at you, and when you're called from inside the kitchen from one of the chefs, he follows your figure going away as if he's found his whole world in you.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @ragingsammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams

[azurethevampire]

"i’m not mad at you. ”

NCIS? With reader please? 💛

Here you go – Happy New Year! ❤

Warnings: some swear words and talking about murders and murderer. Nothing unlike canon.

Gibbs found you from the backyard, sitting on the hard ground softened only by some grass that had overgrown. He’d need to mow the lawn soon. He made his way over and sat down next to you, knees pulled up and leaning his elbows against his knees. 

You sat similarly, except you were hugging your knees to your chest the best way you could – and avoiding looking at Gibbs. 

After minutes ticked by in silence it became clear to him that you were not going to be the first to speak. 

"What, you gonna stay out here all night?" 

That elicited at least some reaction out of you. Not the one Gibbs had aimed for though, as you only shrugged your shoulders. Still not looking at him. 

Hmm.

"I'm not mad at you", Gibbs said. "And neither is anyone else on the team." 

You found his words hard to believe. DiNozzo and McGee had definitely been pissed at you when they found you at the place of the main suspect in the team's latest case. After DiNozzo had made sure the house was clear and you were safe, he had all but dragged you back to NCIS. The drive back there had been tense and you hadn't dared to say a word to Tony who had channeled Gibbs' silent anger so much you honestly were surprised he didn't change into the older man on the spot. 

"I messed up", you said pointedly. How could you not be mad at me? Lingered in the tone of your voice.

It was true. You had messed up. You weren’t an agent, hell you weren’t even a police nor went to the academy to become one. You were a college student surrounded by some of NCIS’ finest. So really, you thought, you could hardly be blamed if you had picked up a thing or two about solving crimes over the years watching your chosen family. Still. You knew you should have left the actual crime-solving to Gibbs and his team. But it had been different this time… this case had been closer to you. 

“Yes, you did”, admitted Gibbs. “And trust me, I’m not happy with some of the things you did.” 

Finally looking at him, you raised a brow at him. “Only some things I did?” 

“Don’t interrupt me, kid.” 

“Okay, okay, s–” you cut the needless apology short. “But before you go into a full-blown rant that only results in me being more angry at myself and feeling guiltier than I already do; You know why I did it, don’t you? You know that I couldn’t just stand by and watch my friend suffer for something I know they didn’t do. And I can’t— I won’t apologize for that.”

Your words hung in the air. Heavy, but not in a bad way. Gibbs looked at you. Really looked at you. At some point — and hell, maybe he had seen it, only refused to acknowledge it, because damn him, he was equally crestfallen and proud as hell to see the person you’d grown into — you’d ceased being the little kid who waited for him to come solve everything for you. 

Maybe that was why he couldn’t make himself feel angry at you for putting yourself in harm's way. Hell, you had been alone in the home of a murderer— nevermind that the murderer in question hadn’t been home at the time. And he was mad at you about that. However, the fact remained that you had been the first one to connect the dots. Without having access to all that tech his team was so fond of, you had been the first to realize who the real killer was – and exonerated your friend's mother from the charges in the process. The goal you had been adamant on reaching in the first place, because you had trusted your gut. 

Just like Gibbs had thought you to. 

"You solved the case before we did, kid. And I'm damn proud of ya for that." Gibbs shook his head and chuckled. "You'd make a damn fine agent, Y/N." 

A smile graced your lips at his words. You knew this wouldn't be the end your conversation and you'd still need to face the rest of the team. Tony and Tim, especially deserved an explanation which you hadn't been able to give them before Gibbs had ordered you to go to his place and wait until they wrapped up the case. 

"Is that a job offer, Gibbs?" 

"Hell no!" 

You laughed with him. 

[intricatechaosofyou]

I’M ONLY ME WHEN I’M WITH YOU

Summary: in which Daisy Miller gets accepted to college…and turns the offer down, much to the confusion of her boyfriend, Rhett Abbott

Pairing: Rhett Abbott x OC (Daisy Miller) ; Outer Range

Warnings: language, suggestive content at the end (both are 18)

Author’s note: This is my first time writing for Rhett so apologies if it’s out of character but I just him so much in Outer Range and I had to write for him. Comments are much appreciated!!

━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━ ━

Friday night beneath the stars

In a field behind your yard

You and I are painting pictures in the sky

Sometimes we don't say a thing

Just listen to the crickets sing

Everything I need is right here by my side

It had become a normal occurrence as the Wyoming weather warmed up. Rhett and Daisy lying in the fields of the Abbotts’ Ranch, staring at the sky, pretending as if they were the only two people in the universe.

She was nestled into his side, head resting on his chest. It was perfect. Peaceful. But the turmoil coursing through Daisy’s mind wouldn’t let her enjoy it. She had to tell him.

“Rhett?”

“Hmm?”

“I got accepted.”

With a furrowed brow, Rhett turned to the girl. “What?”

“I got accepted. To that school in California.”

Rhett’s eyes lit up in recognition and he cupped her cheek in his hand. “Baby, I am so proud—“

“I turned it down,” Daisy interrupted in a small voice, watching as her boyfriend’s face fell.

“What?”

And I know everything about you

I don't wanna live without you

“I turned it down,” Daisy repeated, more strength behind her words.

“What do you mean you turned it down? That was your dream! To get out of this damn town and go to college!” Rhett argued, sitting up.

“Yeah. It was. It’s not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Daisy sighed, intertwining her fingers with Rhett’s. “I don’t wanna live without you. I can’t live without you.”

“Me,” Rhett mumbled. “You’re not leaving because of me.”

I'm only up when you're not down

Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground

It's like no matter what I do

Well, you drive me crazy half the time

The other half I'm only trying

To let you know that what I feel is true

And I'm only me when I'm with you

“Not just because of that—” Daisy began, only to be cut off by Rhett standing up and stepping away from her.

“No, no, you gotta call the college. Tell ‘em you changed your mind and you’re going!”

“Rhett,” she spoke again.

“No! I’m not gonna hold you back!”

“And I’m not gonna leave you behind!”

Just a small-town boy and girl

Living in the crazy world

Trying to figure out what is and isn't true

And I don't try to hide my tears

My secrets or my deepest fears

Through it all nobody gets me like you do

The Abbott boy’s chest heaved as he stared at the girl in front of him.

“We’ve known each other since we were five, Rhett. You’re the only one I trust with my hopes, my dreams, my fears, my heart,” she said.

Rhett just stood there. No movement. No reaction. Nothing.

And you know everything about me

You say that you can't live without me

“And no matter how much you try to deny it, you can’t live without me.”

“Yes, I—“

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Daisy hissed, hands on her hips.

I'm only up when you're not down

Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground

It's like no matter what I do

Well, you drive me crazy half the time

The other half I'm only trying

To let you know that what I feel is true

And I'm only me when I'm with you

“I’m not!”

“Yes, you are! Without me, who’s gonna make sure you eat breakfast before breaking your back on this goddamn ranch? Who’s gonna patch you up after a bull ride? Who’s gonna take care of you when you don’t take care of yourself?” Daisy ranted, tears begging to slide down her cheeks. “Goddamnit, Rhett Abbott, you drive me absolutely fucking crazy!”

“Daisy—“

“I love you, Rhett! I want a future with you! What do I have to do to convince you of that?!”

He sighed, pulling her into his arms. “I just can’t stand to be the reason you don’t get everything you want.”

“You are everything I want, Rhett.”

When I'm with anybody else

It's so hard to be myself

And only you can tell

“Plus, I’ll still go to college. I can take online classes with the state college.”

“What about getting out of this hell-hole?”

“Well,” Daisy sniffles, “we are gonna save up some money. You’re gonna put a ring on my finger like you promised when we were ten. And we’re gonna drive until our heart’s content. And we’re gonna get out of Wabang. Just you and me.”

I'm only up when you're not down

Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground

It's like no matter what I do

Well, you drive me crazy half the time

The other half I'm only trying

To let you know that what I feel is true

And I'm only me

Who I wanna be

Well, I’m only me when I'm with you

“I hope you know I’m serious about that ring,” Rhett mumbled, gently rubbing his thumb against her cheek.

“I know,” Daisy laughed, resting her hands against his chest. “We’ve been engaged to be engaged for years, Abbott.”

“Is that what you wanna be? An Abbott?”

“Nah. I wanna be yours,” Daisy countered with a smirk.

“Oh, yeah?” Rhett asked, failing miserably at keeping his shit-eating grin off his face.

“Yeah. So make me yours, cowboy,” Daisy teased, snatching the brown hat off of Rhett’s head and placing it on top of hers.

Rhett chuckled and nudged the brim of the hat up so he could see her face. “Cowboy law, darlin’. You know what you’re getting yourself into?”

Instead of answering, Daisy just grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into a kiss.

[charmedreincarnation]

this is gonna sound so dumb but there’s one thing i know for sure, nothing is illogical when it comes to desires. But i’m in a sticky situation. Yes this is a 3D and a time crunch issue and i just know anyone and everyone who knows the law wants to yell at me through the screen😭 but here it goes!

So basically i’m supposed to be flying tomorrow to see my extended family and the only thing they care about asking me is what i’m doing for work (in my 4D i have my dream job and moving out for it v soon) I obviously won’t be getting into how terrible it’d be for me if i don’t have an answer for them, u get the gist💀

i visualise myself already working, having inner dialogues and other stuff. i know time shouldn’t matter because it’s not linear and i know 3D shouldn’t matter either. I’m just trying to save myself from all the bs that would follow. the embarrassment, shame, guilt, the list goes on but i’ll stop. (i’m gonna be there for 2 weeks there’s no way i can dodge this conversation😭)

truth be told i didn’t let myself be phased this entire time bc i assumed i have nothing to worry about (by now) but now i’m packed and everything just preparing myself to understand that ANYTHING IS POSSIBLE, I want to tap in the void and have my dream job. and i have been so close to it (tapping in) but the pressure is too much. I just have one night to do this. I know i can tap in other nights as well but i want it to be at my convenience, in my own bed, which would be tonight. I remember one of your anons had a really shit day and cried before tapping in and entered. HERE’S HOPING I MAKE THE CUT TOO.

I understand if you don’t want to reply to this and maybe i’d also not like my dirty laundry to be aired out but i have faith, in the law, myself and you. I just wanted to be seen i guess. I can’t talk about this with anyone. I know it doesn’t make it okay for me to vent here regardless i’m doing it. I’m sorry

The law has never failed me. I know it is this good and true. It’s just that this is my biggest manifestation and it’s urgent. I don’t care if it sounds desperate bc i think i have the means to look at it as finally putting my foot down and actually tapping the fuck in and not live like this anymore.

If there’s only one thing i can kindly ask you to do, it would be to please think about me and idk how to word it but just keep me in your thoughts and hope i make it. That’s all. I’m sorry for ranting and i’m sorry this was too much.

(please don’t answer this if you’re annoyed or anything. I tried fighting the urge to not send this, so so sorry😔)

Awe no worries ofc <3! You’re gonna do great and tap in asap! Super proud of you for making it this far Keep my updated 💗

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

just finished reading Both Blade and Branch and holy shit. I don't know how to express how much I loved this. This is top level literature, a modern classic, an earth shattering tragedy I want to print your fic and bind it and put it in the prettiest cover and then cut it up and eat it. Put it on a shelf and read it over and over again.

I'm currently trying to think of how I can convince my non-911-fan friend and family to read this. Because I need everyone to feel what I felt reading this MASTERPIECE.

I just graduated highschool and I don't know what the fuck I'm doing with my life. I've thought about going in the film industry, and if I manage to go down that path i would LOVE to adapt you fic in hopes of create anything HALF as gorgeous. Because everyone in the world deserves to be in awe of this.

I'm so sorry for ranting here but I think you can see I've lost it a bit. Your fic changed my brain chemistry.

Omg thank you so much! That is so so kind of you to say. I’m really happy you enjoyed it ❤️ it’s definitely one of the ones I put the most work into and feel the most proud of ❤️

[logosbot-tm-fics]

What's this? A chapter? Only about a week later?

Who am I?

Also!!! Please read the notes and summaries. (They’re over on ao3 tho-)

Take My Tea With Formaldehyde

[Start] [<Previous] [Next>]

Chapter 7: Say My Name Like A Slur

(More beneath the cut)

It had been a while since Iskall had last been at Mumbo’s place.

They’d been far too busy, constantly trying to keep up with Ariana, and, more importantly, far too busy trying their best to keep their job. So far, it seemed to be rather stressful, because when they showed up they looked as if they hadn’t slept for weeks.

Even so, they were smiling, chattering as easily as always as the pair caught up. They seemed to be in an almost contagiously good mood, one which had Mumbo grinning along with their enthusiasm. Mumbo made tea as they spoke, Iskall leaning against the doorframe with a yawn as they watched his process. Once he was done, Mumbo piled their mugs, milk and the teapot onto a tray, and the pair began towards the living room.

“–more or less, I…” Iskall trailed off. They’d stopped in their tracks, staring surprisedly at the walls. “Mumbo?” They asked, eyes darting around.

“Yeah?” Mumbo responded, following them into the living room and setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“Where did your posters go?” They asked, their tone confused, as if the sudden lack of Ariana was shocking enough to be a cause for concern.

Mumbo hadn’t really expected Iskall to ask about them… but then again, they hadn’t been there in a rather long while.

“Oh, I took them down,” he said casually, shrugging.

“Why?” Iskall prodded, and well… Mumbo supposed that he could understand why they asked. He used to rant a lot about Ariana and the posters had been up since what felt like forever. It must appear pretty strange that the walls were blank.

“I–” He cut himself off, a bit unsure if the explanation for ‘why’ would make sense. “Grian has been acting weird lately,” he began, sitting down heavily on the couch and crossing his legs. “Which– yes, I know, it’s not unusual for him– but something about his behaviour has been… weirder than usual.“

He paused, trying to figure out how to explain the lack of posters without ranting or invading Grian’s privacy. “Uh– anyway, long story short, they seemed to make Grian uncomfortable, so I took them down.”

“Oh…” Iskall frowned, their brows furrowed. They were staring intently at one particular spot where a signed poster had once hung, a strange tension about their form.

Mumbo had been very proud of that poster, he knew that the both of them remembered that. In fact, he had almost cried when Iskall gave it to him, getting immediately teary-eyed at the sight of the signature. It read ‘To Mumbo, xo Ariana’, and he hadn’t stopped mentioning it for weeks afterwards.

“And you don't want them up?” They asked suddenly, crossing their arms.

“Well, yeah I do,” Mumbo said as a-matter-of-factly, “But I don't want Grian to be uncomfortable here, and I’d much rather take down the posters if it makes him feel better.”

Iskall hummed in response, something long and contemplative. The sound didn’t seem either supportive or unsupportive of Mumbo’s decision, it just was there to confirm that Iskall had heard what Mumbo had said.

“They’re in my room anyway,“ he jerked his head in the direction of his room. “I’m thinking about putting them up there.”

“Ah, okay, I see…” Iskall looked at Mumbo hesitantly, like there was something else that they wanted to say. They cleared their throat after a moment, “I– what do you mean when you say that Grian is acting… weird?“

“Oh, uh– I don’t really know how to explain it, he’s just acting… off," Mumbo stuttered, trying to figure out the best way to explain Grian's odd behaviour. "He’s- he’s not acting like himself, I’ve never seen him like this before. He just– it feels like he’s changed? Like he keeps changing? He did again after a conversation we ha–” Mumbo stopped himself.

Talking about the conversation didn't feel like a good idea. It had been about Iskall's identity, and telling Iskall that felt rude. The way Grian behaved probably didn't have anything to do with Iskall in reality, but the idea of forcing them to come out to Grian left a bitter taste in Mumbo's mouth. He thought that maybe, it was better left unsaid.

Iskall looked at Mumbo questioningly. "What conversation?" They asked.

"Can't really remember, actually," Mumbo lied, biting his tongue. "I've tried to, but I guess Grian's reaction just stuck with me more. He kinda… zoned out? Dropped a plate on the floor, and… honestly it seemed like he wasn't really aware of his surroundings at all.”

He tried desperately to swallow down the guilt of leaving out so many important parts. It was better if they didn’t know.

Iskall sat down on the couch next to him, leaning forward pouring some tea from the pot on the tray.

"Weird," they said, passing Mumbo the mug. "Very weird."

~

A week later, Mumbo and Iskall were talking about it again, as they hung out in Mumbo’s living room once again. They were discussing ways to make Grian happy, even if it was just for a short while, with both of them becoming increasingly concerned about the small man.

Sure, watching movies did work, but Mumbo knew that finding something else that worked would be good too. Besides, those moments where the two of them cuddled together on the couch and watched films felt too private, and Mumbo wanted to keep them that way. It was nothing that he had against Iskall, he just… enjoyed the time alone with Grian.

Which is how Mumbo and Iskall came up with the idea to take Grian out clubbing, somewhere fun where he could just let himself enjoy the moment. It felt like something to look forward to, so they hoped that it would serve as a good distraction. Iskall and Mumbo had gone out together a few times, but that was a long time ago. They had enjoyed it at the time, exploring the nightlife that their city had to offer and spending time together just letting loose so, both of them felt like it would be a good idea.

Grian needed something to make him happy, anything at all, and going out seemed like it would probably cheer him up, even if just a bit.

Even though Mumbo rarely went to clubs and often preferred to stay at home from time to time, the idea of going felt fun for him as well. Besides, it had been a while since Mumbo got out of the apartment. Any excuse to get out felt like a good excuse.

Grian, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy clubs. More than Iskall and Mumbo had expected. They brought up the idea to Grian when the three of them were all hanging out at Mumbo's place, and Grian immediately said yes.

He had seemed a little lighter for the rest of the evening, a little more excited by the prospect of another day.

When the night finally rolled around, Grian was almost vibrating with joy – his hands waving expressively whenever he spoke, bouncing rhythmically on his toes. It made Mumbo’s heart skip a beat, his stomach filling with butterflies. Grian's joy was just infectious, and he couldn’t stop a wide smile from painting itself across his lips.

Grian had even dressed up a bit, even though both of the others had just put on a pair of dark pants and an okayish looking shirt. Hell, Mumbo would say that he himself was a lot more dressed down than usual, since he dressed in suits most of the time.

Grian wore a black skirt that fell just above his knees, swaying with him every time he moved, and a sparkling red shirt that clung to his frame in all the right ways. Shining gemstone earrings decorated his ears, dangling from them and being cushioned in his fluffy hair, and his makeup was more glittery than Mumbo had ever seen. It was bold and bright, something eye-catching and almost professional in the way that the red eyeshadow followed the curves of his face, the sharp eyeliner accentuating his features. Even his shoes shone in the dim light as they walked to the club, the short heels clicking against the pavement as he danced along the street.

All in all, Mumbo thought that he looked very, very good.

At the club, Mumbo saw how Grian seemed to light up as soon as he stepped onto the dance floor. There was just something magnetising about him, something enchanting which commanded attention from all the eyes around the room. Sure, Mumbo had seen Grian dance before – after all, it was difficult to keep the man still on the best of days; whenever there was an opportunity for him to be twirling around the room, he took it – but he hadn't expected Grian to be that good.

Mumbo wasn’t much of a dancer at all, but the way that Grian moved left him bewitched, and before he had even realised that he was moving, Mumbo found himself on the dance floor.

It was a bit difficult to say whether or not he'd stepped onto the dance floor himself, or if it had been Grian who had dragged him out onto it, but Mumbo couldn't really find it in him to care either way. Seeing Grian that happy felt like a blessing, like a sign that things were going to get better.

Mumbo glanced over at Iskall, who just smiled at him and took a sip of their drink, when he felt Grian drape his arm over Mumbo's shoulder.

"Having fun?" Grian asked, smiling at him.

If Mumbo was more sober, perhaps he would have been a blushing, stuttering mess, but he was somewhat tipsy, so instead he put his hands on Grian's hips.

"Very fun," he replied, pulling Grian closer to him with a smile.

Grian laughed loudly, throwing his head back as the flashing club lights reflected off of his shining earrings, and put his other arm over Mumbo's shoulder. The two of them moved in sync on the dance floor, laughing and bumping into the waves of crowding bodies as they danced.

They were practically pressed against each other, the sea of people around them forcing them closer and closer, yet neither let go. It felt as if they were testing the waters, figuring how close they could get before one of them broke.

Mumbo glanced at Iskall again, and saw how they just smiled smugly back at Mumbo, raising their glass from where they sat. Mumbo smiled back, his heart about to escape from his chest.

When Mumbo went over to Iskall, just to take a break, he couldn't take his eyes off Grian.

He looked so natural dancing along to pop songs. It was one of Ariana’s songs playing, and she seemed to make him uncomfortable somehow, but… he'd never seen anyone else dance in the way that he did. Like he knew every thought behind every word, like the words were there just for him.

Iskall's smile had turned from smug to secretive as they also watched Grian dance.

They didn't leave the club until one in the morning, Mumbo and Grian saying goodbye to Iskall as they reached the crossroads between Iskall and Mumbo’s apartments. They all had work in the morning, and no one really felt like staying any longer and ending up completely exhausted, nor did they feel like ending up black out drunk or hungover.

God, how Mumbo wanted to know exactly what that smile meant.

~

Grian held a tight grip on Mumbo’s arm, giggling loudly as they walked, still a bit tipsy. They were going in the same direction, so going together only felt like the logical conclusion. Besides, Grian had seemed weirdly insistent on having Mumbo follow him to his apartment. Not that Mumbo complained. Quite the opposite in fact; he said yes without a second thought.

Mumbo tried his best at pushing down the butterflies that he felt whenever Grian touched him. Unfortunately for him, he wasn't totally sober, which made ignoring the giddiness at the other’s soft touches a lot easier said than done. At first the walk home had been pleasant, with Grian jokingly flirting with him, as Mumbo flirted back to the best of his abilities.

Had he drunk a little less, he might have worried about Grian finding out his feelings. But, like this, he didn’t see any harm in indulging for once, and Grian didn't seem to notice at all, just smiling or giggling at whatever Mumbo said.

The journey took a turn for the worse when they turned down a dim street, some hidden shortcut that apparently Grian was very familiar with. There were a pair of men sitting at the side of the road, empty bottles of beer between them as they spoke loudly, clearly drunk. It didn’t take them long to notice the others, what with Mumbo quietly trying his best to hurry Grian along. The moment that their presence seemed to register, they started to yell.

They aimed their catcalling towards Grian, whistling and yelling at him as he readjusted his skirt slightly. Mumbo wanted to confront them, to march over to them and give them a piece of his mind, but Grian just brushed it off.

He said that he was often mistaken for a girl, that he was used to it by now, and just continued walking past. He confided in Mumbo, his words slightly slurred, that he had never had it happen with someone passing as a guy next to him.

Mumbo felt, for a lack of a better word, disturbed.

They eventually realised that Grian wasn't a girl, and, at that point, the catcalling turned into slurs. They were hurled like knives towards the pair, all of them aimed at Grian, trying to strike him down. Grian looked uneasy as well by that point, and it did nothing to calm Mumbo.

Even so, Grian just wanted to keep walking, holding Mumbo's hand tighter by the second. Mumbo didn't feel opposed in the slightest. Even so, part of him wanted to confront the guys, yell at them for being absolute pathetic excuses for humans.

“Just ignore them,” Grian whispered, his head ducked low and something tense shining in his eyes. Mumbo nodded, tugging him just a little bit closer until they were walking practically as one.

It didn’t work. It didn’t do anything to deter the men, who took their silence as encouragement, continuing to scream slurs and insults and threats. Mumbo could feel tears in his eyes, but Grian didn’t say a word. They kept walking.

Then, their attention shifted. The men laughed loudly, nudging each other as they stood up, beginning to yell slurs and insults at Mumbo instead. It was as if to test how far they could go, as if to show just how much they could push them around. The noise was invasive, resounding through Mumbo’s ears as he tried his best not to cry, his grip on Grian’s hand weak and clammy.

Grian spun around at the first comment in Mumbo’s direction, fire burning behind his eyes as he yelled back at them, his words dripping with venom as his tongue lashed insult after insult.

Mumbo wanted to leave, to go home, to undo the fact that they had gone out to begin with. He wished they had stayed at home watching movies instead, he wished he was anywhere else.

But it was no use, there was no undoing those choices. There was no retreating from the situation they found themselves in; in the middle of a dim street late at night, with flickering streetlights and raised voices.

At some point, Grian dropped Mumbo’s sweaty hand and rushed over to the men. Mumbo tried desperately to recapture his grip, to pull him away and make them run as far as they could… but he failed, watching in horror as Grian ran towards them. He expected Grian to get hit, to immediately crash to the ground. He expected to have to call an ambulance, to watch his best friend being hurt.

Instead, he watched as Grian reeled back his first, punching one of the taller men in the nose. There was a violent crack as the hit connected, and Mumbo watched breathlessly as blood gushed over his lips, dripping from his chin. He must have been caught off guard, fooled by Grian’s short stature and unsuspecting form, because he reeled backwards, falling to the ground as if in slow motion.

Grian was yelling, screaming something at them with such visceral hatred that Mumbo could feel it chilling his veins. He spat and growled and clawed as the other man ran away, leaving his friend dazed on the ground.

Mumbo ran over to Grian, forcing him away from the scene before the guy gathered his bearings. Sure, he had definitely deserved it, but he didn’t want Grian to get hurt. He didn't want him and Grian to stay for longer. He didn't want the cops to show up and make the already miserable night worse.

So he dragged Grian away, listening helplessly as he began to sob, his knuckles bruised and bloody.

Somehow, they managed to get away without the cops showing up. Though, that could be because the guys didn't want to get caught either.

They really should've stayed at home.

~

It was silent as Mumbo put bandages on Grian's bruised knuckles. For once, they were in Grian's apartment – it had been closer to the bar, and going all the way to Mumbo's just… didn’t feel worth it.

When they stepped inside, Grian immediately let go of his vice-like grip on Mumbo's hand, throwing his bag across the room and kicking his shoes off as quickly as possible. Mumbo, on the other hand, took a moment to just take in his surroundings.

He hadn't been in the apartment in ages, and nothing much had changed but… despite that, it felt as if he was stepping into a stranger's home. The place felt off, as if someone had gone inside and moved everything just a centimetre to the left.

He shook his head, snapping out of his thoughts. He heard Grian rummage through the drawers and cabinets in the bathroom, silently cursing as his bruised hands brushed against things. Mumbo stared at the bright, fluorescent light from the bathroom, taking a deep breath before going in as well.

That's how they ended up with Grian sitting on the toilet lid with Mumbo knelt in front of him, gently washing Grian's knuckles with soap, water, and disinfectant. He heard Grian gasp when the disinfectant touched his hands, despite Mumbo’s gentle, careful touch.

"Sorry," Mumbo apologised, trying to ignore the nausea turning in the pit of his stomach as the cotton pad began to turn red.

Grian shrugged. "It's fine,” he mumbled, but his shaking voice betrayed him.

Grian's hands were delicate, and considering how soft they were he obviously tried to take care of them, even if his nails were bitten down and the pink polish was chipped. Somehow, it made Mumbo feel worse about the bruises. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he still wished he could make up for it somehow, make it better.

The electric buzz from the touch he felt made him feel sick, guilty. It was the wrong time to be thinking about that. Grian was hurt and yet his feelings distracted him.

"I hate people," Grian said, not louder than a whisper. He watched as Mumbo gently wrapped the bloodied knuckles with white bandages, he watched as scatters of blood began to soak through.

His face twisted into a pained smile.

"I absolutely hate people,” his voice broke, tears slowly forming in his eyes. “They're so mean, so cruel. And for what?” He sniffed wetly. “What's the point?”

Each word shook like an earthquake, mountains of unspoken emotion and build-up pain seeping through each one. His hands shook with them.

"I don't know,” Mumbo replied, holding Grian's hands in his as gently as he could, cradling them like the most precious of treasures. “I really don't."

"Why do they feel the need to destroy someone else's happiness?" Grian asked, as the tears began to fall.

Mumbo didn’t know what to say. He stayed silent as he wiped away Grian's tears.

~

Mumbo decided to sleep at Grian's place that night.

Going home felt rude, and Grian seemed to need the support. He had stared at his hands for a long time after Mumbo finished bandaging them, as if he was trying to will them into healing. Mumbo had managed to put everything away in the medicine cabinet by the time that he finally moved again, blinking down at his hands rapidly like he was trying to come back to himself. He gave up after that, sighing as he stood up from the cold bathroom corner and walked into his room to change out of his clothes.

When he had stepped back out, dressed in sweatpants and a red hoodie, he quietly asked if Mumbo could help him wash off the makeup. He held up his hands, as if to tell Mumbo why he couldn't do it himself. Of course Mumbo didn’t hesitate, and carefully helped Grian wash off the makeup.

Mumbo offered to cook food too, an offer which was met with a bittersweet smile and a quiet, "I'd like that."

The smile, somehow, made everything feel a little bit better, a little bit more comfortable, and after they had eaten, Mumbo noted that Grian's eyes had regained some of their shine.

They got ready for bed, and Mumbo set himself up on Grian’s couch with a pile of blankets. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but Mumbo still felt that it was better than going home. He wanted to be there for Grian. Leaving him alone felt like a bad idea.

Apparently, Grian shared much of the same sentiment, because it didn't take long for him to quietly emerge from his bedroom. He walked over to the couch and knelt down in front of it, shaking Mumbo slightly, just enough to see if he was awake.

Mumbo tiredly opened his eyes. "Grian?" He murmured, confused.

"Can I sleep with you on the couch? Just for the night?" Grian anxiously whispered, fidgeting with his hands. The bandages stopped a lot of his movements, creasing uncomfortably and pulling at his raw skin.

Mumbo sat up, one of the blankets falling to the floor as he moved. "You sure? You don't want to sleep in a proper bed instead?" He scratched the back of his neck, feeling far too tired for the conversation.

"I'm sure," Grian said quickly, maybe a bit too quickly, because then he added. "It feels too big, too empty. Uh- and besides, I've slept on couches before."

Mumbo didn't question why they didn't both just sleep in Grian's room, even though the couch could barely fit them both. He didn't question the explanation Grian had given.

Maybe he should've. It might've been a good idea.

Maybe it would've spared him a lot of pain later. Maybe he might’ve realised a few things.

Instead of telling Grian no, something he never seemed able to do, no matter how much he wanted to, he opened his arms and let Grian curl up beside him.

Maybe he should try to be better with boundaries. He couldn’t keep doing this; at one point or another he was bound to break. He should learn to say no, to ask questions, to stick up for himself.

It probably would have been better, but seeing Grian smile like he did in that moment, something that felt far too rare, always managed to break down his walls.

So instead, he shoved down the feelings bubbling in his chest, and he fell asleep like that, with his arms wrapped tightly around Grian.

[solradguy]

I have sent many asks to you before filled with honest yet corny-as-hell sentimental bullshit about how much your blog, and you by extension, means to me— even if we don’t even really know each other. But if this isn’t a better time to actually buckle down and give you a proper “thank you,” than I don’t know what is.

I found your blog a while back, sometime early last summer if I remember correctly, through your Guilty Gear scans. It was around the time I first started actively hunting down whatever remnants of a Guilty Gear fandom were scattered across the internet, and luckily I hit the jackpot with Tumblr (amongst other sites.) God bless whatever made you make this blog, cause the things it has done for me since then have been tremendous. From small things like your discussions about music and your random posts about vintage technology that inevitably prompt me to do deep-dives on the subject, or bigger things like your entire translation or scanning projects that open me to an entire new world of Guilty Gear media, your blog has taught me about so many new things that have molded me into the person I am today, and suffice to say, I’m proud of that person. You have introduced me to new singers, bands, books, movies, games, shows; so many goddamn things and the majority of them have turned out to be things I simply enamor. Beyond that, your art has helped me improve on my own art and has inspired me to make so much more work and work even harder. Plus, you also brought back my obsession with dragons! I used to be enthralled by dragons; collecting paintings, statues, plushies, books, you name it and I probably have it. And just to like them once more due to my exposure with the content you churn out (wether original or reblogged) is something I can also say I am grateful for. Even just ranting about personal interests in your asks or asking if you perhaps enjoy the same things that I do is something that makes me happy.

I don’t want to make you uncomfortable by saying this, but I seriously do see you as a sort of “big brother” figure in my life. It’s a parasocial relationship, sure, but I have found solitude and comfort in your blog, and even a sort of aspiration to be like you. Either way, the truth is your blog has helped me so much this year and has brought me so much more happiness than what I had before. You have seriously helped me become a better person, better in loving myself and finding something to love in the world around me as well.

So, thank you. Thank you for this blog and for everything you post on here. Thank you, and happy new years. I hope next year gives you nothing but unadulterated love. You deserve it.

Ok so, for an uncountable amount of times this has happened now, I typed a really lengthy reply to this and then cut a section of text to move it and Tumblr decided that meant "delete the whole post except the cut text and then close the post editor, deleting everything forever." It is 3:30am. I'm going to summarize what I wrote as I type it for the second time. The last two paragraphs are the only sections from the first draft that got saved.

--

First off, I apologize for taking so long to reply to this. Your message is extremely heartfelt and sincere and, when I got it (around noon), I wanted to think on it for a little and reread it a few times before replying.

I'm... not great... at accepting compliments. For a lot of my life I've been picked on for my physical appearance and interests so I learned how to take advantage of my size and how to project a pissed off aura to get people to leave me alone. It works very well. Online that doesn't work, and I wouldn't want it to, but offline I think I can be kind of a grumpy asshole. I try really hard to only appear to be that way. After making kids/babies cry just from being in the same space as them though, it can be difficult to think otherwise. I'm not used to people being this kind to me, let alone even admiring or looking up to me.

But the online format is nice; people just see me as an icon and if they don't like my posts/interests they can close the tab or filter it instead of making it my problem. Being able to talk about whatever on here and finding other people that also think it's interesting has helped me a lot too. Before getting into Guilty Gear around August 2021, this blog was mostly just an art reference blog with a very, very, small amount of personal posts scattered in-between when it was something I wanted to archive (like when I started HRT).

I started doing scans because I wanted to send a specific illustration to someone but could only find it in a low resolution. Since I had the GGX '07 art book and a scanner, I figured I might as well just scan it myself and it all sort of snowballed from there. The GG community has been incredibly motivating and I don't see myself quitting doing these scans/translations until there's nothing left to scanlate. Guilty Gear has done so much for me and I love the games and its setting probably more than any other series I've ever been into.

Know that I really, truly, appreciate you sending me this message. I have a little folder of nice messages like yours that I keep to look through on bad days. They genuinely mean a lot to me.

It's such an honor that the things I've posted about have inspired you and lead you to new interests, too, and I hope that I can keep motivating and inspiring you. 2023's gonna be a good year, I think, and I hope you get some of that unadulterated love too.

[indomitable-ace-of-hearts]

And when she messaged, “Why Can’t you turn the talent you have to write book’s that will bring income for you.”

All I felt was irritation even when I knew the path she was going to take.

The hook? Weak.

The deliverance? Lackluster and unoriginal.

17 words aimed at reeling me in to a conversation about book services and offerings and what have you.

One misplaced Caps letter. Another misplaced apostrophe. A huge misstep in assumption. And another in building credibility or trust.

I waited a few hours before answering.

Thinking about the question instead sending a clear eye-roll, smart response.

Forced myself to go back again to a question that has run through my mind from the moment I could put a #2 pencil on grade school, dotted-line paper,

“Why do you want to write?”

And then the others:

“Who are you writing for?”

“What are you writing for?”

“Why do you keep writing?”

Why haven’t you published anything yet.

It doesn’t hurt, of course, to have people pay for your work. It would be quite nice, actually.

But there is an underlying subtext here that words are wasted unless there is monetary value or gain as the reward.

That there is no meaning without payment.

And it would seem in today’s world that no one wants to give freely anymore for the sake of doing so. Not unless they think it is “really worth” something.

Not time.

Not words.

Sure as hell not money.

I’m not so naïve to think that I can sustain myself and two children on my own on a writer’s budget. And I am admittedly too proud for anyone’s charity.

I also know that Society would rather lap up social curated, same-thing-different-day propaganda than anything that forces them to dig deep and think.

It’s rare to have intellectual conversations anymore and the stuff I post isn’t exactly about rainbows, or politics, or pop culture memery.

It’s semi-unfiltered.

Raw.

Random.

Experiential.

So why do I write?

Why do I lay here text typing on a mobile app in bed instead of listening to mellow songs in hopes my mind will quickly settle into sleep again.

Even though I’ve been sleeping all day trying to fight off a full weeks worth of fatigue.

Why?

Because I have things on my mind that only come out when I sit in silence and need a place to go.

Because exploring words allows me to explore how they create meaning, or clarify meaning, or expand on it.

I write because my mind can’t figure out the right way to express things and so thoughts stay holed in silence. And my voice rambles as it struggles to keep pace with how quickly my thoughts run.

And thoughts are always running and jumping and skipping.

Putting it down lets me sift through the internal chaos, organize, and cut out the meaningless parts.

I write because while experiences may be my own, there are universal truths and lessons I can only hope someone can gain from it one day.

Lessons that may stay in circulation for a few generations before they become lost to time and space and technology.

It’s an exploration of that which makes us human. Our thoughts. Ability to derive meaning from shapes, and lines, and dots, and colors.

Our ability to reason and communicate.

Talent? Maybe I have talent.

Or maybe I’m just cursed with a mind full of word sprites who love nothing more than to see me struggle to find the right things to say.

Why can’t I turn my talent to write books that can bring me income?

Because I’m a hopeless fool who still thinks the world cares little for the musings and rants of yet another “self proclaimed writer” and my stuff is hardly at the level of our era’s greatest literary minds.

There’s too much slush in the literary pile and noise in the world to sift through.

Besides - no one REALLY cares for anything I have to write anyways.

And I am perfectly ok with that.

So why do I write?

For now - to keep myself from the edge of insanity.

[avenging-fandoms]

where rafe is on the verge of exploding but he immediately goes to you to help him so he doesn’t do something irrational

— OHH HE ALSO LISTENS TO UR HEARTBEAT TO CALM DOWN :’)

--

rafe was never the one to know how to self-sooth. he always reacted right away and never thought before he spoke or before he did something. rafe's father was no help with calming him down, only amping him up.

rafe's father, ward, was a part of rafe's problem, and you knew this from the start. after 3 years of your relationship, you saw it got worse. ward would start to get upset with rafe when he stayed the night or a couple days, rafe having to tend to his father's needs to please him.

it all got too much for rafe.

rafe sat on the edge of his father's desk, biting his nails, listening as his dad ranted about john b and sarah. ranting about the gold. ranting about everything he could complain about. rafe focused on the floor, tuning out his father's voice.

"rafe!" ward slammed his hand on his desk, rafe jumping and blinking a few times. "are you listening to me?" rafe nodded and ward reached behind his back, holding out a black pistol, rafe's eyes widening slightly. "i need your help"

"no, dad. i can't. i won't. no" rafe shook his head and ward cocked his head slightly, stepping closer but rafe stepped back. "no" rafe raced out the back, hopping in his car and speeding off.

rafe never told his father no. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the leather steering wheel, speeding off down the backroads of outer banks. rafe stopped roughly outside of your house and slammed his door and you jumped up at the sound.

you push open the screen door and your heart breaks at the sight of your disheveled looking boyfriend. rafe's eyes met yours and you opened the door wider, rafe pacing back and forth in your living room. "i-i-i can't keep doing this, yn. i just told my dad no. he held out a.. a gun. he said he needed my help. i can't keep doing this. i can't" rafe ranted and you walked over to him, holding out your hand.

you were rafe's safe haven. rafe stopped pacing and took your hand, relaxing at your warmth and you pulled him in for a hug. you two fell on the couch, his head on your chest and you comb your fingers through his hair and shush quietly.

rafe closed his eyes and breathed along with your heartbeat. his thumb rubbed over your side, mumbling incoherent words. "you're okay here, rafe. don't worry about him, baby. you're okay" you whisper, kissing his hair and trying to calm him. "do you want to eat something? i was just about to make grilled cheese and i can make some tomato soup too" rafe hummed and you chuckle, rafe sitting up.

before you stood up, rafe held your hand. "i'm sorry for.. always burdening you with my shit. you don't deserve it" rafe's voice was soft, and your were surprised at his apology.

"no, baby. you don't have to apologize. i'm here for you. i've been there for you for 3 years, and i plan on being her for many more years" you kiss him softly, then his forehead. rafe laid his head on your chest again, kissing your skin and watching as you got the items to make grilled cheese and tomato soup.

rafe took off his shoes and jacket, dragging his feet over to you and wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. "i love you, yn, thank you so much"

"anything for you, rafe" you smile and he leaned against the counter. "what?"

"anything?" he asked with an eyebrow cocked and you looked at him nervously. "let's leave our phone here. go somewhere for a bit. escape this place, yeah? i have cash, that way they can't track the payments" rafe grabbed your hands and your eyes darted back and forth in between his.

"rafe, wouldn't your father kill you for running away and stealing his money?" you turn off the stove and hand him a plate and a bowl.

"not if it's from the savings account he funds for me to spend" he smiles and you look at him, shaking your head with a smile.

"where do you want to go?" you ask and rafe grinned, kissing you softly.

"let's go to california" you raise your eyebrows and he smiles even wider- if possible. "let's get married out there"

"are you insane?!" you laugh and he chuckles, kissing your cheek. "okay, california it is. are you sure you want to leave our phones?"

"we can get burner phones. use them when we need each other if we ever get separated" rafe ran his teeth over his bottom teeth, holding up his pinky. "are you in?"

you shake your head as you smirk, linking your pinkies with his. "forever and a day, rafe cameron" you mumble and kiss your hand, rafe kissing his. he grabbed your face and kissed you passionately, your hands holding his elbows.

"forever and a day, yn. we'll start packing after we eat, sweetheart. i'll pack whatever clothes i have here" you nod and you two finish eating, rafe finishing with a smile. "i just love your cooking"

rafe was a different person when you distracted his mind. you were proud of him for coming to you instead of doing something stupid, you didn't want to bail him out of jail ever.

you and rafe locked your phones away, rafe taking out all the money in the bank and cutting up his card, throwing it away. you and rafe were off to california, and you would return when you two got sick of california. you hoped that you both never got sick of it, and that he wanted to stay there forever, start a new life. one could only hope, right?