#I've had this in my drafts for awhile actually

[suddencolds]

// personal

how strange it is to observe yourself changing

[elephantlovemedleys]

thinking thoughts™️ about the idea of christian and satine as parents like i know christian would've been such a girldad and him and satine would have three little girls running around their household christian would write fairytales and tell them bedtime stories satine would have so much fun dressing her girls up and singing to them they'd all have picnics together they would take their daughters to a ballet and to a carnival but the most important thing their own children would get to have is growing up in an environment filled many great things and love being the most compelling thing ever

[allisonreader]

Sometimes I wonder why I bother to share my writing. I do write mostly for myself, but I enjoy sharing my work, even if there's no one to screech with over my ideas. But I do miss/look forward to those times where someone does enjoy it enough to say so. It doesn't seem to happen often though, so it feels like yelling into the void. Yet I understand it too. My writing won't be for everyone because it is written for a very narrow audience. Me. And anyone who might happen to enjoy similar things to me. There's many pieces of writing that I've never gotten a single word commented about. And those are stories that I'm particularly happy with, but the one that I'm thinking about in particular is extremely niche. But I love it all the same.

Recently, I think I've come to the conclusion that it doesn't even matter how much or little of a response you get to your writing, you're always going to want more. To be reassured that yes, it is actually good/has merit, that it's not just friends telling you such. It doesn't alleviate that desire to hear such, but makes it more reasonable of a thought.

[ooffies]

Brushing their hair!

author's note: hi everyone! It's been awhile since I last wrote but I've been itching to post/write again. This has been sitting in my drafts for like a four months so don't mind if it's a bit rough. I hope you enjoy!!! :)

Characters: Leona & Jamil

Warning: None!

Jamil Viper:

Jamil’s long, silky hair was always such a treat to brush. Sure, it takes a very long time to work through but he enjoys these rare chances to relax. You enjoyed it as well, perhaps even more! Finding any excuse to allow your boyfriend to take a break.

If you’re not brushing his hair first thing in the morning, more likely than not all the tangles will already have been brushed out. During the day he is often busy scampering from place to place, either housewarden duties or student activities. So, this activity is often reserved for the end of the day, allowing you both to unwind from the stress from the day.

This activity is often spent in a comfortable silence. Jamil’s eyes closed, muscles relaxed and sitting cross-legged on his bed. He simply enjoys your company, the feelings of your fingers and the brush running through his hair. In an almost sleep-like state but never actually falling asleep. Causal small talk isn’t unwelcome though, he enjoys hearing the little details about your day, recent gossip or whatever stupid shenanigans the headmage put you up to. But he often doesn’t talk much about his day unless asked, preferring to be the listener since you are the most interesting thing to him.

As much as it was a treat, brushing Jamil’s hair was a task you had to be meticulous about. Well… It was more like you wanted to be meticulous about it. Making sure to gently brush through every long strand with utmost care and precision. And once you were done, he’d lay his head on your lap as you ran your fingers through it and braiding it as you please

Brushing hair is a mutual form of affection with him! Although he never outright asks to do it, he will always do it when you ask him. Or if he sees you have a tangle, he’ll just grab the brush without a word and get to work. But styling your hair is his favorite! For whatever type of hair texture you have, Jamil has learned to work with it. Memorizing all different braids, twists and other things you enjoy having done to your hair.

Leona Kingscholar:

More often than not, this man has tangles in his hair, despite it mostly looking flawless on the outside. Just lift up a few layers of his thick hair and you’ll find yourself a tangle or two. He enjoys the pampering of getting his hair brushed by you. He will complain if you brush too hard but he’s never too serious about it.

You can brush his hair whenever really. While hanging out in his room or the gardens, helping him put it up for spell drive practice, you kinda have free reign over it. But he will only ever let you style it to your heart’s content when you're in private. Sure, throw it up into the occasional ponytail or redo his braids in-between classes but pigtails and all those cute clips you have are only to be put on in either of your rooms, far, far away from the public eye. He’ll surely complain about how stupid and childish pigtails look on him but will he stop you? No, he won’t. Cause you're his beloved partner and you're giving him affection. It’s your partner privileges to play with his hair as you please! Just make sure to give him a little extra smooch or two while at it if you want less complaining on his end.

If he’s not napping while you're brushing his hair, you two are chatting away. He prefers listening to you talk but he’ll still be willing to tell you more about his day as well. This chit chat can range from basic chatter to discussing future plans and dreams. Or maybe it’ll take the direction of something nostalgic like childhood stories or something silly like the stupid prick who kept beating him on an online chess website. Whatever it is, he’ll never miss the chance to talk with you!

© ooffies 

Please do not repost or translate my work without permission and credit. Thank you!

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[reveryfics]

Mr. Lifeguard

Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Male Reader

Summary: The pool was the ideal refuge from the sweltering summer heat. However, Bob was apprehensive about joining everyone. So, when you offered to swim with him later that night he accepted.

A/N: So, I have a lot of angst for Bob and while I currently have a more fluff type request for him in my drafts, I think he needs a cute summer pool fic. This will be my last post for awhile, while I'm gone requests are still open.

TW: Fluff - Awkward flirting

The oppressive humidity of a New York City summer settled over the Tower like a thick, damp blanket. Outside, the city shimmered in the heat, the asphalt radiating a blistering warmth that made even a short walk feel like a marathon. It was the kind of heat that seeped into your bones, leaving you lethargic and desperate for relief.

You were sprawled across Bob's bed, a book resting unread on your chest. The gentle whir of the fan was the only sound breaking the silence, a rhythmic hum that did little to combat the stifling air. The cool breeze it offered was a welcome reprieve, a small pocket of comfort in a sweltering world. You'd been staring at the same line of text for what felt like an eternity, the words blurring into an indecipherable mess as your mind drifted. Across from you, Bob was in a similar state, his own book lying forgotten on his stomach as he gazed at the ceiling. The shared stillness was comfortable, a testament to the easygoing rhythm you'd fallen into over the past few weeks.

Earlier that morning, a collective decision had been made in the common room. The tower had a state-of-the-art pool room, a luxurious oasis that, for whatever reason, had never been used. This seemed like the perfect day to rectify that. The idea was met with a chorus of excited agreements, a symphony of splashing and cannonball fantasies. But one voice was notably absent from the chorus. Bob had hung back, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes.

"I think I'll stay here," he'd said, his voice soft. "I'm not really a... a pool person."

The others, in their excitement, hadn't noticed his reluctance at first. But when asked, he admitted the truth, a bit sheepishly. "I've never actually learned how to swim," he confessed, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I'm perfectly content to just stay in my room with the fan and a good book."

No one pushed him. The last thing anyone wanted was for him to feel uncomfortable. Instead of joining the others, you decided to stay behind with him. The lure of the cool water was tempting, but the prospect of a quiet afternoon with Bob was even more appealing. You both had settled into this peaceful routine, the kind of easy camaraderie that didn't need words.

As the fan continued to hum, you finally broke the silence. The words tumbled out before you could even think about them. "I could teach you," you blurted out, the thought suddenly crystal clear in your mind. "Later tonight, after everyone's gone. We'll have the whole place to ourselves."

Bob's head tilted, his gaze slowly shifting from the ceiling to you. A slow, playful smirk spread across his face, a spark of amusement lighting his eyes. "Oh, so you're going to be Mr. Lifeguard, are you?" he said, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "I hope you know CPR."

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile on your own face. "You'll be perfectly fine," you retorted, a laugh bubbling up in your chest. "Besides, I'll get you a floaty if you need one."

The smirk on his face widened, a genuine, joyful crinkle forming around his eyes. "Okay," he said, a soft, warm tone in his voice. "Deal. On both counts.".

Later that night, you went back to your room and changed into a pair of swim trunks, grabbing a towel and a pair of flip-flops. The cool fabric of your trunks was a welcome change from the oppressive humidity of the day, a small promise of the refreshing evening to come. You made your way back to Bob's room, a soft knock on the door announcing your arrival.

He was already standing by the door when you arrived, a fluffy white towel draped over his shoulder. He was dressed in a pair of simple black swim trunks, his bare chest and arms on display. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, a flicker of nerves in his eyes as he took in your ready-for-the-pool appearance. But as soon as his eyes met yours, his face lit up, a brilliant, genuine smile spreading across his lips.

"Ready to go, Mr. Lifeguard?" he said, his voice a low, teasing whisper.

You grinned in return, a playful roll of your eyes as you gestured for him to lead the way. "Lead the way, Captain Floaty."

The halls of the tower were silent, the usual daytime bustle replaced by a peaceful hush. Your footsteps echoed softly in the quiet as the two of you walked side-by-side, the air-conditioned coolness of the tower a stark contrast to the muggy heat outside. As you walked, Bob's gaze drifted from his bare feet to you.

"So, how did you learn to swim?" he asked, his voice soft, almost a mumble in the quiet hall.

You shrugged, a casual movement of your shoulders as a faint smile touched your lips. "My father," you began, the memory of the past as clear as day in your mind. "He was a big believer in sink or swim. He just pushed me in the deep end one day when I was a kid and told me I'd swim if I wanted to survive."

You could feel Bob's gaze harden, the playful glint in his eyes replaced with a sudden, intense seriousness. "Your dad's a fucking asshole," he mumbled, the words a low, guttural growl that escaped his lips before he could stop them.

You laughed softly, a dry, humorless chuckle. "Yeah," you agreed, the word a soft exhalation of air. "Yeah, he was a cunt." The honesty of the moment hung in the air between you, a silent acknowledgment of a shared understanding. The conversation ended there, the two of you continuing to walk in a comfortable silence until you reached the pool room.

The pool room was a sight to behold. A massive, Olympic-sized pool filled the center of the cavernous room, its crystal-clear water shimmering under the soft, recessed lighting. The air was warm and humid, carrying the faint, clean scent of chlorine. The far wall was a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a breathtaking view of the illuminated city skyline. It was a space designed for leisure, a stark contrast to the high-tech tower.

Bob stopped at the edge of the pool, his toes curling slightly against the cool tile. He looked out at the vast expanse of water with a mix of awe and trepidation, a deep furrow forming between his brows. You watched him, a quiet smile on your face.

"Don't worry," you said, your voice soft and reassuring. "We'll start slow. The shallow end is right here."

You gestured to the steps leading down into the water, your own feet already splashing into the cool depths. The water felt incredible, a refreshing shock to your skin after the heat of the day. You turned back to Bob, who was still standing on the edge, his towel now draped over a nearby chair.

"C'mon," you coaxed, a playful glint in your eyes. "It's not a shark tank, I promise."

He let out a nervous laugh, a sound that was half-chuckle, half-exasperated sigh. He took a deep breath, his shoulders squaring as he slowly descended the steps. The moment the water touched his skin, a shiver ran through him, a stark contrast to the hot flush on his face.

"Okay," he said, his voice a little strained. "Okay. So, what's first?"

You moved closer, the water swirling around your waist. "First," you said, your voice dropping to a low, calm tone, "we're just going to get you comfortable in the water. I want you to sit down on these steps and just feel the water, feel how it holds you up."

He nodded, a look of fierce concentration on his face. He sat down on the second step, the water lapping at his chest. You watched as he took a deep breath, his shoulders slowly relaxing as he leaned back, the water supporting him. You could see the tension in his body melting away, replaced by a sense of calm.

"See?" you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Not so bad."

You waded out a bit further into the pool, the water now reaching your waist, but kept your eyes on Bob the entire time. He was still sitting on the steps, his body a little more relaxed now, the water a comforting embrace around him. A thoughtful expression was on his face as he watched you move through the water with an effortless grace.

"Feeling brave enough to join me yet?" you teased, a playful smirk on your lips. "I can go get your floaty if you need it. We'll find one with a cool shark design."

He let out a soft laugh, the sound echoing lightly in the cavernous room. "I think I'll pass on the shark floaty for now," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he pushed himself up from the steps. He moved slowly, deliberately, the water resisting his every movement. He took a single step off the stairs and into the shallower part of the pool, his feet finding purchase on the smooth, tiled floor. He took another step, and then another, his movements a bit stiff, like a cat testing a new surface.

"Okay," he said, his voice a little strained as he tried to find his balance. "So, what's the next step?"

"Now," you said, your voice calm and steady, "I want you to try to float on your back."

His eyes widened in a flash of pure panic. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, his hands coming up in a gesture of surrender. "Absolutely not. I'm not ready for that. I'll sink."

You chuckled softly, waded a few steps closer to him. "You're not going to sink," you reassured him, your voice firm and confident. "The water is going to hold you up. It's all about trust. Trust in the water." You gently placed your hands on his back, your touch a warm, comforting pressure against his skin. "I've got you," you promised, your gaze locked with his. "Just lean back and let the water take you."

He hesitated for a moment, a whirlwind of doubt and trust swirling in his eyes. Then, with a deep breath, he leaned back, his body going rigid as he fought against the natural buoyancy of the water. His feet lifted from the floor and he tensed, his muscles coiling in protest. But you held him steady, your hands a solid anchor against his back.

"Relax," you murmured, your voice a soothing balm against his fear. "Just relax."

Slowly, his body began to loosen, his muscles unclenching as he felt the water's gentle embrace. He let out a shaky exhale, his eyes fluttering shut. His head bobbed gently on the surface, his hair fanning out around him like a golden halo. He was floating. For the first time in his life, he was floating, a sense of weightlessness washing over him as the fear melted away. You kept a firm, steadying hand on his back, a silent promise that you would not let him go. The only sounds in the room were the gentle lapping of the water and the soft, steady rhythm of your breathing. It was a perfect, quiet moment of trust, a shared breath of air in the vast, silent sea of the pool.

He let out a long, shaky breath, the sound a soft puff of air on the still surface of the water. His eyes fluttered open, a brilliant blue against the golden glow of the pool lights. He looked up at you, a soft, amazed smile spreading across his face.

"I'm... I'm doing it," he whispered, the wonder in his voice as clear as the water around you.

You smiled down at him, a genuine warmth spreading through your chest. Your hand slowly moved from his back, a gentle caress against his skin as you pushed away from him, moving to float beside him. The weightless sensation was peaceful, quiet, the only sounds in the vast room were the gentle lapping of the water against your bodies and the soft, rhythmic sound of your breathing.

As you drifted a few feet away, Bob's hand found yours in the water, his fingers carefully intertwining with yours. His touch was warm and steady, a silent anchor in the cool depths. He was still smiling, but there was a new look in his eyes now, a spark of something different, something a little more than just relief.

"You know," he said, his voice a low, teasing rumble that sent a shiver through you, "I'm starting to think you're pretty good at this whole 'lifeguard' thing."

You let out a soft laugh, your head tilting back as you floated, your gaze on the illuminated ceiling. "I'm a natural," you replied, your voice filled with a playful confidence.

"Yeah, well," he said, his fingers tightening around yours. "I've gotta say, you're a lot better than my old lifeguard. He was just a picture on a cereal box."

You turned your head to look at him, a quizzical expression on your face. "A... cereal box?"

"Yeah," he said, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "The one with the smiling sun on it. I used to just stare at him and hope for the best."

You burst out laughing, a genuine, uninhibited sound that echoed in the quiet room. "I'm going to take that as a compliment," you said, your voice still a little breathless from your laughter.

"You should," he said, his gaze locked with yours. "I mean, he's a great guy, but he's got nothing on you. You're... you're a much better floaty than a sun." The last part of his sentence came out in a rush, a clumsy, adorable attempt at a compliment that made your heart do a little flip-flop in your chest.

You squeezed his hand gently, a soft, tender smile on your face. "I'm a much better floaty than a sun," you repeated, the words a silent promise that you would always be there to hold him up.

You both floated there in the silent, shimmering pool, your fingers still intertwined, a quiet island in the middle of a vast, tranquil sea. The city lights twinkled like scattered diamonds through the massive window, a beautiful backdrop to your private world. You talked aimlessly, your voices low and soft, carried on the humid air. You discussed a new book you were reading, the chaotic state of his room, his surprisingly meticulous habit of doing the dishes after everyone else had abandoned them. The topics were mundane, but the conversation was easy, a comfortable back-and-forth that felt as natural as breathing.

After a while, the conversation faded into a comfortable silence. The only sounds were the soft lapping of the water and the gentle rhythm of your breathing. You just floated there, suspended in the serene moment, a warm, fuzzy feeling spreading through your chest as you looked at the man beside you. The city lights reflected in his bright blue eyes, making them sparkle like the stars in a night sky.

You couldn't help but feel a pull towards him, an undeniable magnetism that had been building between you for weeks. And in this moment, suspended in the quiet, intimate bubble of the pool, you decided to take a chance.

"You know," you said, your voice a soft, low murmur, "if I'm a better floaty than a sun, I hope you're a better swimmer than a flounder."

Bob let out a soft, surprised chuckle, the sound a low rumble against your joined hands. "A flounder?" he asked, his voice laced with amusement. "That's a bit of a stretch, isn't it?"

"I don't know," you replied, a playful smirk on your lips. "You're pretty flat on your back right now. Plus, you've got those big, beautiful eyes on the side of your head. It's a close call."

He laughed, a genuine, uninhibited sound that made your heart skip a beat. "You're... you're a mess," he said, shaking his head slightly, but his smile was wide and brilliant.

"I can be," you admitted, your own smile mirroring his. "But hey, I'm a mess that's holding your hand in the middle of a swimming pool at two in the morning. And you're a guy who just learned to float. So I think we're doing pretty well."

He squeezed your hand, his gaze locked with yours, the playful spark in his eyes now mixed with a deep, unreadable emotion. "Yeah," he said, his voice soft, almost a whisper. "I think we are."

The quiet hours bled into one another, and you and Bob eventually drifted toward the shallower end, the silence punctuated by the soft slosh of water. The initial awkwardness had completely vanished, replaced by a comfortable intimacy that felt both new and familiar. You had a few more failed attempts at teaching him a proper stroke, dissolving into laughter as he flailed his arms and legs in a chaotic, sputtering effort. But it didn't matter. The goal wasn't to turn him into an Olympic swimmer; it was just to be there with him, to share this moment.

"I think I'm ready for the next level," Bob declared with a dramatic sigh, pushing himself up to sit on the steps, his legs dangling in the water. He was breathing a little heavily from his clumsy attempts at a backstroke, a triumphant grin on his face.

"Oh yeah?" you challenged, resting your forearms on the edge of the pool beside him. "And what's that?"

He looked at you, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light. "I think it's time for me to learn how to do a cannonball."

You let out a snort of laughter, shaking your head. "Absolutely not. You'll flood the entire floor."

"Hey, you're the lifeguard," he said, splashing a bit of water at you. "You're supposed to be encouraging me to be adventurous."

Before you could retort, he pushed himself up from the steps, a newfound confidence in his movements. He stood at the edge of the pool, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked down at you. Without a moment's hesitation, he launched himself into the air, his knees tucked to his chest, and landed with a spectacular, thunderous splash that sent a tidal wave of water crashing over you.

You came up from the deluge sputtering and wiping the water from your eyes, your hair plastered to your forehead. You saw Bob's head emerge from the water, his hair slicked back, a look of pure, unadulterated joy on his face.

"Well?" he asked, his voice filled with a childish glee. "How was that?"

"I think," you said, pushing a lock of hair from your eyes and a smile on your face, "we're going to need a bigger pool."

He laughed, a rich, vibrant sound that filled the room. He swam over to you, his movements still a little uncoordinated, but undeniably more confident than before. He reached out and gently brushed a stray drop of water from your cheek, his touch sending a warm shiver down your spine.

"Thank you," he said, his voice dropping to a low, tender murmur. "For this. For everything."

You smiled, your gaze softening as you looked into his eyes. "Always."

The first rays of dawn began to peek through the massive window, casting a gentle, ethereal glow over the pool. The light illuminated the quiet stillness of the water, a perfect mirror to the peaceful, shared moment between you. As the sun began to rise on a new day, you both knew this was more than just a swimming lesson. It was the start of something beautiful.

[thanatika]

i've had this pathologic 3/quarantine post sitting in the drafts for ages that criticizes sanity mechanics as a concept (i think they're generally worse at generating ludonarrative harmony compared to physical health mechanics). but i didn't want to just be critical, so i've also been thinking for awhile about what i think could be added to really improve the game's sanity system and make the mechanic more interesting.

basically, i think that high mania/apathy should have an actual impact on gameplay that isn't just "your health meter starts decreasing" or "you can't start dialogue until you normalize your psychosis meter" or "a craaaazy glitch filter appears over your vision". these just feel like inconveniences, they don't instill the type of visceral desperation in the player that is necessary for this to work as the game's new sole survival mechanic. my biggest suggestion for how to make the sanity mechanic feel more visceral would be to allow the bachelor to start conversations even at high levels of mania or apathy, but with his mental state influencing how he behaves in conversation. grey out the friendly, cooperative dialogue options, so that the player can see the potential to choose a diplomatic option, but can't select it. force the player to choose the worst, most aggravated responses instead when dankovsky is under stress. and of course, if he's being an asshole, then the people he's talking to should withhold key information about potential clues or locations where he could access resources. life gets harder.

but then i realized i was just reinventing depression quest but as a walking simulator.

[avianyuh]

DK as a boyfriend

His personality is the sun baby from teletubbies

I'm just kidding, that was me letting an intrusive thought win...

No but seriously, Seokmin is a ball of sunshine

(ps. I'm gonna be using DK and his actual name Seokmin interchangeably)

When you met, believe it or not, he might be a little shy around you.

Mainly because he thinks you're cute and he becomes hyper aware of how loud he is and how his energy is always at 100%

Basically, he doesn't want to scare you off.

But when you guys get to know each other.

And when he gets comfortable...

Prepare for a lot of screaming.

Btw, remember that he's technically an introvert (INFP)

***(introvert doesn't equal shy. introvert just means you have a social battery and it drains faster. the only way to recharge is to spend some time alone or be around people you're comfortable with. so yeah, DK is loud and happy and goofy at times, but remember he's probably at his most comfortable around the other members because they're all his brothers. they all understand each other and know each other's limits.) okay, explanation over.

But also a lot of hysterical laughing.

DK is the boyfriend that rolls on the floor with you while you both laugh to the point you have tears in your eyes.

And it's all because he made some stupid joke or threw something and didn't catch it in enough time.

Or he stubbed his toe and hit a high note.

Like, anything with him is comedy gold.

He's your happy pill, your personal source of sunshine and positivity.

But I feel like he could always see right through you

And once you're a couple, it'd be his sole mission to make sure that he keeps you happy and energized.

And your mood really influences his mood.

If you're having a bad day, that in turn makes him sad and though he tries to cheer you up, if that doesn't work, he gets upset knowing you're down about something.

It's really sweet. Then you pull yourself out of your rut to try to get DK happy again, which doesn't take much effort.

Would kill at karaoke.

I feel bad for whoever goes against him unless you're Seungkwan or Mariah Carey...

Definitely would sing you to sleep.

Honestly, would just constantly be singing.

Around the house, in the shower, in the car, literally anywhere.

And you tease him for it and call him a show off, which he scoffs at but you always see that smile he tries to conceal by looking down trying to cover his mouth.

Type of bf to send you deep text messages on a random Tuesday night at 10:53 pm

I think Seokmin would know pretty early on if you were a good match for him or not.

Do you make him happy?

Is he crazy about you?

And if he answers yes, then he's made up his mind.

So you'd probably meet the members, his family and friends early on.

I see him wanting a private relationship.

Just wants to protect you and the best way to do that is by not outright publicizing it.

Low key romantic because he's protective, ya know?

*yes, I'm using the iconic robe photo, YOUR WELCOME*

Shmexy shtuff🥵:

Hmmm

First of all, I know he's not the type to be shirtless but I just KNOW that man has a nice ass body. Like, have you seen his arms????He works out so, bedroom action with this man will be great.

like... look at those arms😫👇

I don't see DK as the type to do anything crazy in the bedroom

Probably a vanilla kinda dude

I could see him as the type to play music and get really attentive

I said he would be the type to send long, deep text messages

So, I think he'd be really into pillow talk

Long story short, I don't think DK is for the freaks...

~~~

{A/N: Uh...Heyyyyy. Wow, this is awkward. Soooooo, I've been gone for like two months. Really sorry about that guys. I had taken a short break from writing for awhile due to schoolwork. I know I say that a lot though. Yeah, headcanons don't make up for a lack of stories but this has been sitting in my drafts since January so I thought I'd finally finish it. The other thing is my writers block when it comes to fanfics. I had ideas but found it hard to find an idol to pick and envision for the story, idk if that makes sense. It's almost the end of my semester, I have finals coming up and I really miss writing on Tumblr. Side note; I've been listening to a lot of EXO and Got7 lately. It's been so much fun because I used to be a huge ahgase and exo-l back in middle and high school. Python is such a good song btw. I know someone had asked if I'd write for Got7 and idk, that might be on the horizon. Also, just remembered that I never finished writing Boring, so that'll be one of my summer projects. Okay, I promise to not disappear again. Love you and mwahhhh💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋}

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Greif (Bo Sinclair x AFAB Reader)

This has been sitting in my drafts for awhile now cause I never felt good enough about it to actually post. I wanted to make a good hurt/comfort but not make it too over the top extreme and I'm really confident in this version of it to finally post it. This is the first time I've posted a heavier fic like this so please head all the trigger warnings I put for this one.

Notes: Minors DNI, This fic is written with an AFAB reader in mind though no specific descriptions are used the pronouns She/her are used in relation to the reader. Trigger warnings: Pregnancy, abortion talk (Briefly). Bo is really mean at least in the start, Hurt/Comfort. Afab reader with she/her pronouns used. Excessive Cursing.

"If you fuckin' think I'm lettin' you bring a fuckin' baby into this town you're fuckin crazy!"

Bo yelled as he paced around the living room of the main house. You had finally come clean and revealed to him that you were most likely pregnant. He was taking the news about as well as one would expect Bo Sinclair to.

"I didn't ask to get pregnant Bo! Maybe you should've been more careful!"

You screamed right back at him. Bo scoffed at your argument and shook his head, a nasty grin overtaking his face.

"I shoulda never let you fuckin stay here. I told myself the day you rolled into town that you were gonna cause me nothin' but trouble"

"Maybe you should let Vincent make me into one of his wax figures then Bo, or better yet, you can keep me in the basement under the station."

Bo froze at your statement and fixed you with an expression you had never seen grace his face before.

"You better watch your fuckin' mouth if you know what's good for ya"

"Why Bo? You can't handle the truth of what you were doing in that basement before I came along?"

"You have not got a fuckin' clue what you're talkin' about. When what you need to worry about is what your gonna do with bastard you got growin' in there cause it's not gonna have any relation to me"

He spat, motioning to your stomach.

"If you don't wanna keep the baby what do you suppose I do then?"

"I mean hell if I know, I'm sure the pharmacy in the next town over has some pills or somethin' to nip the problem in the bud"

"Y- you'd really want me to go through with that? After everything we've been through together? Are you fucking serious?"

"No darlin' I want you to go all the way over to the next town over and go on a fuckin' shoppin' spree!"

"How could you even suggest something like that Bo? After everything we've been through?"

"A baby ain't nothin' but a liability, a liability ain't a single one of us got time for. 'sides do you really fuckin' think Ambrose is the place to raise a baby?"

"You, Vince and Les grew up here! Plus it's not like you'd let me fuckin' leave and go somewhere else to raise the baby. You'd turn me into a wax figure before that ever happened"

"Exactly, so what happens when that rug rat grows up and starts askin' questions? Askin' shit about what his daddy and uncles do? Askin' about the figures? What the fuck are you gonna do then?"

"You explained what the 3 of you do to me pretty damn near perfect didn't you?"

You countered Bo's argument. You watch his face as another unreadable expression crossed it as he finally sat down in his recliner and put his head in his hands. You sat and watched him in sick curiosity before the overwhelming feeling hit you like a truck.

Bo Sinclair was afraid.

An emotion you quite honestly never thought you'd see Bo experience. Sure Lester had told you stories from when they were kids and scared of their parents, storms or the usual childhood fears. But this was different. Bo wasn't a child and this wasn't a storm that would just pass if he hid under his covers and waited long enough.

You sat looking at a broken son in the body of a man, a son who had never healed from the torture his own parents put him through. The cracks that Bo tried to conceal so well from his own upbringing were crumbling in front of you. The fears coming back to him, his mother's voice echoing in his head that he would just grow up to be like his father.

The fear that it would be twins, like him and Vince and he'd have to watch them be separated and not be able to do a thing for them. Not being able to take them to a hospital just to protect Ambrose and his brothers.

"You're not going to be like them Bo"

You broke the silence with a whisper. You could hear Bo sharply suck in a breath, you were treading on unprecedented territory with Bo. His childhood was just something he didn't talk or think about at all and now it was at the forefront of his thoughts.

"Shut up"

He mumbled back. A usual response for when Bo felt like you were trying to back him into a corner and he was running out of ammo to fight you off.

"You're not going to be like them Bo. You aren't them and you never will be."

You exclaimed louder. Bo threw his hands off his face and stood up so fast the chair tipped on it's back legs. He stood, in front of the chair, just starring at you, breathing heavily as emotions swam through his eyes. You decided to be bold and test the waters, you began to take small steps toward Bo, he wasn't attempting to walk away so you continued this until you were right in front of him.

"Bo"

You said softly as you stood directly in front of him. He finally snapped his eyes down to meet yours.

"Bo, you're going to be better then them. You're going to be a good dad Bo, you've had a first hand experience of what not to be like as a parent, it's going to be rocky sure but-"

"My mama always told me I'd end up being just like daddy, Just a mean son of a bitch who never had anything nice to say to no one."

Bo cut you off, a much softer tone then before when his fear was translating to anger.

"Do you want to be like you dad? Are you gonna hate this baby if it doesn't come out to be what you were expecting?"

Bo look at you as if you had grown three heads.

"Of course not, it's my kid, how could I not love my own flesh and blood."

"If you know that, and aren't planning to emulate your father, then why are you so worried about ending up like him?"

Bo was stunned, no one had ever talked him through his emotions like that.

"T-that was the only image of a father I ever got. I don't know what a good dad is like. I don't know how "normal" kids who parents actually wanted 'em around had it"

You reached down and grabbed his wrist gently. Bringing it up and rubbing your fingers over his scars, the scars that told many glaring stories of what shaped him into the cold man he was today. You were thawing him out though, slowly but surely.

"You'll learn, No ones saying it'll be easy, but you're capable of running this whole town and taking care of the four of us, I'm sure you'll pick up fatherhood just as quick as anything else."

"Well that ain't my only issue with this whole baby thing though"

"What else is wrong then Bo?"

"It's- It's fuckin'" He sighed and ran a hand over his face. "What if it's twins, and their conjoined like- like me and Vince were."

"Oh Bo"

"We ain't got no doctors here, and it's not like we could go stay in another town for the duration of it that would be too risky, god forbid you have complications too. I just- I don't know if I could do that darlin'"

Everything was coming together and your vision on why Bo was so angry was becoming clearer and clearer. Bo wasn't angry at you, he was scared of loosing you. Scared of being alone when he had finally found something he never thought he would ever get to have.

"Bo honey, I know it's scary, but what happened with you and Vince was rare. There's no guarantee that this baby will even be twins. You should've brought this all to me instead of just yelling."

"I know darlin', I should've went about it better. But I guess when you told me you were pregnant I- I got scared. The entire time you've been here I've had these scenarios in my head, worryin' about what would happen"

You were speechless as you watch as he turned away from you and began pacing again, this time without the yelling. The entire time you had known Bo you had never known him to be one to talk about his feelings. "I'm not a fuckin' pussy" He was remark to you when you would ask him what was wrong.

The front door swung open as Vincent returned from the wax museum. Bo stopped as your gazes moved to Vince who was now frozen in the doorway of the living room.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Vincent signed. You looked at him apologetically before flicking your eyes over to Bo to see what he would say.

"Nah Vince it's nothin'. Just uh- She's pregnant is all"

Vincent perked up and his gaze immediately flicked over to you.

"Really?"

He signed, giving off an aura of excitement. You nodded at him and mustered a smile

"I'm gonna be an uncle!. I'll start reading dad's old medical books and learn things to help with the delivery"

"Now Vince we ain't even-"

"I know he had an entire book about it, I'll start getting set up for prenatal appointments too. Maybe we could even go to the next town over for checkups and stuff, we'll need stuff for the baby too"

Vincent kept rambling in sign, something he did often. You couldn't help but laugh at his childlike wonder at the prospect of being an uncle. You looked over to Bo, who was noticeably less tense as he watched his twin's excitement over the new member of the family.

"Vince chill out for a sec, having this baby is so risky. What if it's twin and they come out like us? You're gonna separate 'em?"

"Well all things considered, the pregnancy only has a one in 250 chance of becoming a twin pregnancy. Plus we're identical twins, only fraternal ones run in families which means two separate eggs would have to be fertilized instead of the egg splitting."

Bo and you look at Vincent in dumbfounded shock as he signed the information as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where the hell did ya learn all that?"

Bo asked still in shock as he looked at his brother as if he had grown another head.

"In dad's old medical books" Vincent shrugged "I'll leave you two alone now though, I should go get researching"

Vincent signed in reply before turning and heading upstairs to his bedroom. When you heard Vincent's bedroom door close you turned back to look at Bo who was already looking at you when your eyes met his. A lighter mood fell over the living room and smile at him.

"A one in 250 chance huh?"

"Yeah, I reckon so"

"You wanna take that chance daddy?"

All the emotions of the night wash over Bo's face as he thinks for a moment then answers.

"If you think it's a good idea, can't really argue with facts I suppose. But there's gonna be rules."

With that Bo is back, the rule making irritable Bo you fell in love with when you rolled into the gas station all those years ago.

"What rules are we talkin' about?"

"For starters your gonna take it easy, when someone comes into town your gonna stay here at the house and out of sight. No heavy lifting, no helping Vincent anymore, no walk-"

"Bo, Just wrap me in bubble wrap then yeah?"

"I mean I could go to the next town over and find somethin-"

"I was joking Bo, You're not wrapping me in a protective layer"

"I can if I want too"

He mumbled under his breath. I bit back a laugh and rolled my eyes.

"Whatever you say Bo"

"Hey I run this town-"

Bo begins the spiel you've heard about 20,000 times since you began living here as you walk into the kitchen, the cravings starting to take over, as he follows you to explain how he runs the town and how what he says goes and if he has to make more rules to keep you he will.

As you stand in the kitchen, eating your snack and listening to Bo's spiel. Something deep down inside you, lets a feeling wash over you that maybe just maybe, everything will be just fine.

[fresanita]

I LITERALLY ADORE YOUR PARENTAL ALASTOR SERIES,, IT'S SO GOOD!!! AAAAAAA, I DON'T KNOW WHAT ELSE TO SAY, I JUST WANT IT TO BE KNOWN THAT IT IS SO GOOD AND I CAN'T WAIT TO SEE MORE :)

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLYYY🙏🙏!! My classes have really been taking up my time💔

But anyways, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!♡♡ SO GLAD YOU LIKE MY LITTLE COMIC, I promise I'm working on the next part🫶🙂 when I first posted it, I didn't expect people to really like it! I'm so glad they admire parental alastor the same way I do, though☹️🩷!!

I've been gone for awhile and I had actually drafted a response for your submission BUT IT DIDNT SAVE FOR SOME REASON😧! It's fine though💔

Alastor as a parent was always such a charming concept to me - but that's mainly because I always admired a dynamic w a possessive/obsessive parent and their child; I love reading those type of fanfics🙂🫶! In Angel and Alastors dynamic, when they were both human and more familial w each other, I always love imagining how domestic they'd be: Alastor would cook the meals and pick out clothes for his little boy because his Antoní was always hesitant to dress up pretty☹️🩷 I have my own indulgence where Alastor would sew or purchase frilly/simple dresses merely because he catches Angel staring at them a lot.

(ANGEL DUST WAS ONCE A KID TOO, HE DESERVES A PARENT☹️)

Quick doodles I did of human kid angel dust w clothes Alastor would dress him in if he could🫶 the top left has his head a too big, but whatever💔

[sil3ntfr34k]

(Self indulgent shut UP)

(I have so many asks and drafts man idek where to start)

(also first person and gender neutral ekekekek)

(also ALSO his petname is Birdy and yours is Starlight, personal headcanons shhHHHUSH)

Postal 1 Dude x Fat!Reader: Napping!!

I've known Postal Dude for 4 years by now. The relationship started off rocky. I think dude was scared of me at first, too nervous to even look in my direction. Not that I'm scary or anything, at least I don't think so, he's just been alone for so long that he kinda forgot how to be human along with everyone else.

He was strange, still is, but it's something I've learned to accept. Not only did he ramble nonsense a lot and spew his religious ideals, his house was filled with all sorts of strange things. Some things I couldn't even identify. From different types of crosses littered in each room, to strange writing on the wall in Latin I think, even to small dead animals and small bones in boxes he kept in his closet. Maybe they were for champ, but I've never seen him play with any of it. Honestly, I don't wanna know, so I never asked.

But after being with him for so long, I've realized he just needs some company, someone to help distract him from his own mind. So that's what I've been doing. I was just his friend at first, helping him clean around his house and getting him outside more often. But somewhere along the line, I couldn't help but want to be closer. Dude is genuinely nice person, under all his nonsense and fear, he just wants to feel safe. He'd never hurt anyone unless he's scared, and that's one the reason he can lash out sometimes.

And that's how we got here, on his way to his house. I have my own place, but I'd just rather be with Dude. He even gave me a key, so I could come over whenever. As I enter his home, I'm immediately hit with sight of him scribbling some more words above the window. It looks like he's been doing this for awhile, there's more complete sentences above different windows. At least I think they're complete, it's all in a different language I don't understand.

"What cha doin?" I ask him tentively, walking closer to his side to look at the writing more clearly. He jumps a little, not expecting to see me so suddenly. I don't think he even heard me come in, too focused on whatever he's writing.

"Fuck! You scared me," He places a hand over his chest, "I just-... I'm trying to keep them at bay... It's like a incantation, they can't come in if it's written or spoken."

I tilt my head a little, confused as to who 'they' is. He always talks about 'them' and how he tries to keep 'them' away, but it always changes. Sometimes they can be spirits, sometimes they can be people, sometimes they can even be his own thoughts.

"What language is that?" "Latin. It's an old and powerful language. Most words link back to it."

Dude has really random knowledge, sometimes it makes me laugh. It's probably from all the random books he reads.

"Maybe you should take a break Birdy, your arm is shaking." I try to take the marker out his hand, but he quickly jerks away.

"No!! I need to finish this!! And then I need to do the other windows too, a-and the bathroom, and then the front door, and-" I place my hand over his mouth to shut him up. He ramble as lot. "Birdy, you can't keep writing if your arms are shaking like that... Mmmmaybe the incantation won't work if it's not written properly?" Definitely made that last part up.

He looks away for a while, taking my words into consideration. I have to play along with his ideas a lot, helps him believe and listen me if I validate whatever he's doing. Like I said, he just needs distractions sometimes.

"Your probably right... I think I missed a word on that one actually." His voice defeated and pitiful.

"Always am! You should know that by now!" I tease him a little, "C'mon, work was grueling and I'm beat. Some psycho started throwing shit around and I had to clean it up. I swear I'm gonna quit one day." I complain all the way to the couch before letting myself fall on it.

There's a high pitched sqeak that comes from the couch, making Champ bark from his dog house outside. It's his bone, probably from the last time it thundered and Dude let him inside.

"Ugh, Champ knows he's not allowed on the couch!" Dude complains as I takes the toy and throws it outside, close enough for Champ to get it on his chain. As Dude comes back we can both hear the dog chewing on it, happy to have his toy back.

"He's just a baby!" "He's like 30 in dog years." "But he's 4 in human years, and that's BABY!!" Dude chuckles, "Whatever. He knows better."

Finally, Dude lays down with me, letting himself sink into my squishy body. I think he likes how big I am from the way he squeezes me, latching onto my body like a baby koala. It's cute honestly. His head rests on my plush chest as he listens to my heartbeat, humming in contentment.

"You tired too?" I ask softly as my fingers find their way to his scalp, gently combing through ginger hair, "Yea... I think so..." His voice is much quieter now, his chest rumbling from how gravely it is. He starts to squirm on top of me, trying to find a comfortable spot to sleep. It takes him a while, but he finds a good place in my arms.

Dude does his sleepy sigh, nuzzling himself deeper into my body and letting his hands absentmindedly squeeze any fat he can find. It's something he does to relax himself, like a stress toy kinda. The same goes for me, one hand still combing through his hair and the other now rubbing his back.

Soon, we both finally fall asleep in each other's hold with Champs persistent squeaking still faintly in the background.

〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

(Also let me know if y'all like fics more, it's a little harder than headcanons but if I'm into it just flows out of me)

[maple-the-awesome]

Twilight's Calling ||

Pairing: Twilight x GN! Reader

Words: 2,544

Requested by anonymous: Heeey. First of I love your writing style! It’s just amazing! Cause twilight is my fav. could you maybe write something like xreader with him, for example they’re in a battle or smth? Only if it’s okay ofc! Thanks a lot and have a good day and week! best wishes :) Twilight may or may not be my favorite Link, too (TP was the first game I finished, so I'm a little bias, okay?). I've had this draft lying around unfinished for awhile, so I figured this would be the perfect opportunity to finish it. Here you go, hun 💜

Zelda Masterlist 🤎Fandom Masterlist

It's getting pretty late. 'Late' as in the sun has long set and the last time you saw any of the boys was about an hour ago when Time finally managed to herd the remaining stragglers out of the room, although he was being a bit hypocritical seeing as he still lingered in the doorway for a good minute himself afterwards (not that you dared comment on it).

Since their heavy footsteps had faded into silence - and aside from the innkeeper sometimes shuffling down the hall or a sudden 'pop' of the bedside candle - you've been left entirely alone with your thoughts as they dance on the very edge of sleep, but you refuse to lose balance. It's your shift. You promised to be a good lookout and it took a lot of convincing to even get the position, so you can't disappoint no matter how heavy the weight upon your eyelids or heart is.

You've always been well aware of the risks that would come with this mission and from traveling alongside nine heroes of legend; troublesome young men and boys who can definitely handle themselves in battle, however none immune to making possible mistakes. You expected one to occur at some point, yet never wanted the aftermath to be anything too serious.

Wild getting a decent scar on his forehead was a scare when it initially happened, but he was back on his feet within the hour - less than that actually, because if you remember correctly, his quick recovery had been controversial and resulted in quite a bit of bickering. The bottom line is that Wild bounced back with little to no trouble thanks in part to his thick skull. This is different. Twilight has yet to follow his protege's example and it's been hours.

You must admit you underestimated the situation at first due to a lack of context. It's not to say you didn't care about Wolfie when he got struck, however there's a notable difference between a wild 'pet' that occasionally trails your group and the very man you've grown to secretly admire over the months you've spent traveling together. If you had known then that they are one of the same, you would've likely shared a similar level of panic as the Champion, but instead you were left in the dark until Four finally explained Twilight's secret to you.

Even at that moment, although more worried, you figured everything would be okay. Wolfie or Twilight, a fairy should be able to do the trick to heal the worst of injuries, so one can imagine your heartbreak once learning that, for some odd reason, the state of his wounds haven't changed even under a fairy's sacred touch. That's when you truly became fearful, but you refused to show it outwardly - no more than whatever made itself present on your face, anyway.

Making a fuss won't aid Twilight's condition nor will it calm the concerns of your friends, so instead you had mostly stayed out of the way until Time announced everyone should get some rest. At that point, you made your presence known, quick to shoot your hand into the air while volunteering to take the first shift for watching over Twilight. Champion was the only one to fight you for it and honestly, you still aren't certain how you won the argument, but here you are, sitting quietly at Twilight's bedside while trying desperately to keep yourself from descending into madness as you fret over his well-being.

He's doing somewhat better after Hyrule's magic managed to stop most of the bleeding, however his wound remains deep without any further healing progress and his skin is drained into a pale, sickly color clear even through the dim glow of candle light. He looks like shit and you'd guess he feels like it, too, seeing as his face curls into a pained expression every now and again, a whispered groan leaving him whenever he slightly shifts his body (not that he moves that much).

It's gotten a bit chilly tonight, however all blankets in the room have been laid over him and you refuse to swoop as low as to steal comfort from a dying man, so you simply keep huddled to yourself, half praying the next shift will come sooner and half praying it won't because a stubbornness inside you is somehow convinced that the simple act of you being here will keep himsafe from death's hands.

You don't pay much attention to the quiet groan that comes from the bed, having already bitterly accepted that there's nothing that can ease whatever pain haunts Twilight during his nightmares, although you do lift your head when a hand shakes its way into view, barely able to carry itself to the edge of the covers where it collapses with a broken echo from its owner, "W...What time is it?"

You almost cry simply by the sight of Twilight's dull eyes staring up at you, half-lidded and only appearing bright if compared to the dark bags hiding underneath them, but you manage to hold back the tears for the sake of not scaring him.

"I-I'm not sure. After sunset," You answer slowly as to prevent any wobbling to your voice.

"And the others? Is every - everyone else okay?" Hylia, he sounds awful, his once handsome, accent-laced voice butchered by a hollow croak.

"Yeah...Yeah, we're all okay - and don't worry about the shadow. Wild managed to take it down - thanks to you tiring it out, I'd say. You sure gave that thing a run for its money there," You attempt to joke lamely. Although your laugh doesn't carry much life to it, Twilight's expression does soften a tad after the sound.

"...Good..." Is all he says before closing his eyes with a sigh through his nose. Meanwhile you fidget nervously, debating with yourself on whether you should let the conversation die off so that he can continue getting rest or keep him talking while he's able to. You sure do love hearing his voice, after all, no matter how broken it may be; it reminds you that someone as great as him is actually real and, after recent events, still alive.

In the midst of your depressed thoughts, you notice Twilight reach his hand out towards you again - or at least it looks like he's trying to. Really, he only has the strength to lift it palm-up slightly off the covers, yet you understand this movement's wordless request. Ever so gently, as if he's made of glass, you take his hand and sandwich it between both of yours. He's a bit too cold for your liking, a sharp contrast to his normally warm touch, not that you draw attention to that worrying detail.

"...Is there anything I can get you?"

He tries to shake his head, but loses will halfway through the action and instead chooses to simply let his head lull to the side towards you. From there he stares for a bit longer than he means to, his dazed brain struggling to process his thoughts at its usual speed.

"Why aren't you sleeping?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you," You allow a small smile, slowly reaching forward to help move his bangs away from his face, "We're all taking shifts throughout the night. I was just lucky enough to get the first."

Twilight hums, closing his eyes for a brief second when your fingers brush his forehead, "How'd you manage that?"

"Barely. For a second there, I thought I was gonna have to duel the Champion for it - had my hand on my sword and everything before he finally caved," Twilight makes a sound between a scoff and a laugh which makes your smile more genuine even if he does flinch in pain immediately afterwards, "The real question is how I won against Time...Actually, I wouldn't be that surprised if he's secretly standing outside the door as we speak."

A creak of old floorboards in the hallway makes your eyes dart to the door, almost expecting the man in question to walk in and call you out for your jokes, yet you calm that doesn't happen. Twilight brings your attention back to him by moving his thumb against your hand, "Don't tell 'em, but I'm glad it's you here. I like having ya' here with me..."

You press your lips, hoping it'll help you ignore the heat against your cheeks. That must be the first time Twilight has ever openly said he 'likes' anything related to you; you're certain you'd remember any other instances of such a milestone. It might not be the exact sentence you'd want him to use the word in, but it's a step in the right direction, so you'll take it.

"I like having you here with me, too, Twi...which is why I've officially decided that I'm too selfish to let you die on any of us. I don't care if I have to fist-fight Hylia for it; I'm not letting you get out of this journey so easily."

"That right?"

"I swear it on my life."

He chuckles weakly, although the sound is taken over by a fit of coughing. Promptly you pour a small glass of water using the pitcher kept on the bedside table before gently helping him sit up to take a careful sip.

It's insane for you to think that only a few weeks ago, you had been secretly watching him move hay bales at Time's place effortlessly. Now he lies here in bed struggling to hold a conversation, his muscles shaking horribly by the simply action of prompting himself up even slightly. Seeing him like this makes you feel awful, but you also consider yourself blessed to be the one taking care of him during a low point like this, ensuring that he's properly cared for and tended to almost like a spouse would.

"Seems like I'm starting to lose you, farm boy. You should relax and get some more sleep," He makes a face and seems prepared to argue, however he must not have been able to think of anything convincing to say - that or the aching in his bones has become too hard to ignore. Either way, instead of saying a word, Twilight nods droopily before inching his way back down against his soft pillow while you fix the blankets over him again.

"Look on the bright side: make it through this and you'll probably get special treatment from here on out. Get your bags carried for you, have whatever meals you're craving be made each night...If you hobble around a little I'm sure you could even get Time to fuss over you -"

" - And what about you?" Twilight quizzes and you can't tell if he's being serious or just teasing. It feels like the latter, yet the way he watches you while awaiting your reply makes you feel another way; soft and warm, but a tad anxious at the same time, "What can I get from you?"

You pretend to think, although in truth, you already know there wouldn't be any limitations for what you're willing to give. If he asked for the world right now, you'd figure out some way to gift wrap it for him...but that's too embarrassing to admit aloud, "...Depends on what you're thinking and if you can swing it the right way."

He hums, once again staring at you just long enough to make that anxious feeling really prominent. Is there something on your face that no one told you about earlier? Is he judging your messy hairdo that you had no time to fix since the battle? Did you sound too flirtatious in your answer? Maybe his injury has given him the ability to read minds, so now he knows just how desperate you are to earn his affections!

"...If I asked you to stay with me, would you?" Twilight whispers so quietly that you barely hear, yet you do. 

"I, uh...Time will be here in an hour or so for his shift, but I won't go anywhere until then, okay?" Not even your poor excuse at smiling can save your stumbled words, yet you pray he doesn't look beyond either. He's loopy from such a stressful day, so it makes sense that he's have trouble properly wording questions. It also makes sense for him to be scared to be left alone - anyone would be in such a state. He doesn't have to worry, though; between you and the boys, someone will always be by his side throughout the night. You'd expect that knowledge to be a relief for him, however Twilight only frowns and looks away with a surprisingly depressed look in his eyes. 

Fiddling nervously with your hands upon your lap, you ask carefully, "...Unless you're wanting me to watch over your for the whole night? In that case, I wouldn't mind staying if it would make you feel better. I'm sure the others would be fine with it if they could just check in here and there."

Twilight presses his lips, refusing to look directly at you. If you didn't know any better, you'd say that based on his continued reaction, you're still somehow missing the point of his question, yet no matter how much you rack your brain, you can't think of what else he would've possibly meant.

You were tempted to ask for more clarity, but Twilight speaks before you can, "...I'd like that."

"Yeah?"

He nods bashfully which melts your heart in a way you're sure would be shamefully clear if he were only looking in your direction.

"...Well, since you took one for the team -" Scooting your chair closer to the bed allows you to cross your arms over the mattress and rest your head on top of them. Desperately you try to ignore your nerves and the cute way Twilight curiously looks over at you, "- I'll stay for the night if you promise me one thing."

"Hmm?"

"Stay with me, too? Without you, I might just loose my mind. Don't tell anyone else, but you don't drive me nearly as insane as some of the other boys do," not in the same way at least.

The corner of Twilight's lips turn upwards, his hand taking it's time to move over yours. The second it makes contact, you take the chance to hold onto it, "...Sounds like a deal..."

You match his smile easily, "Get some sleep, Twi. I'll be right here when you wake up, so just focus on getting better for me, alright?"

He hums one last time, drifting off to sleep as commanded where he seems to be far more peaceful than earlier. As promised, you remain by his side until morning, eventually falling victim to quick naps yourself only disrupted whenever someone else sneaks into the room to see how things are going. You're certain you'll be tired tomorrow with an aching back after spending an entire night hunched over, but that's a small price to pay for someone like Twilight. It'll all be worth it to see him recover, granting you even more time to spend by his side through thick and thin.

[stories4eve]

FINISHED ROUGH DRAFT OF PROLOUGE

Written out snippet of my favorite shadow moment LMAO

《SNIPPET BELOW》

Shadow Milk held the babe with a look of uncertainty in his face. He had just gotten the child to quiet down mere minutes ago and was terrified of stirring too much to wake the boy. However, just as he began to ease into holding the baby, the door slams open, prompting Candy Apple and Pure Vanilla first.

"MASTER!! OH THANK THE WITCHES YOU'RE OKAY--" Candy Apple practically rushes to his bedside. "WHAT HAPPENED? WHY WASNT ANY OF US AWARE???--"

"OKAY-- OKAY-- WOAH. Calm it DOWN! The baby might have been a little unexpected, but no worries, I know exactly what I'm doing with him! As for how I'm doing-- I'm doing perfectly! Totally.. handling this situation well." Shadow Milk replies, awkwardly laughing, his smile looking more forced than anything. His hair? A mess, all over, and he looked beyond exhausted.

Candy Apple seemed to nod her head slowly, albeit a little skeptical of the blatant lie he told her, but she dared not question him at all. She then peers over to look at the babe clearly. ".. He looks so much like Mr.Vanilla, are you sure that's your baby too, master?"

Shadow Milk seemed to glance at her, then back at the child. His gaze then finally shifts to Pure Vanilla, and he extends his hands out just so that in his vision, the baby's face is directly aligned with Pure Vanilla's own curious face. "... Oh my witches, he DOES." Shadow Milk says baffled. "REALLY? You come so unexpectedly, mess up everyone's entire morning just to look exactly like him?! Oh, you--.. You're.. Actually kinda adorable."

The baby seemed to not respond, and it was silent for a moment before the child bursted out into tears. Shadow Milk winces and looks to Pure Vanilla. "Love, I'm sure I can--"

"No! No I've got this-- ahem--"

And the crying only persisted, infact it got even louder the more Shadow Milk tried to do. "-- nevermind, you take him Nilla."

Pure Vanilla chuckled, taking his firstborn son into his arms and calming him down in mere seconds. It's a heartwarming scene, really, the adoration in his face as he holds the small bundle of joy like it's his entire world. Shadow Milk can't help but observe them for a moment before scooching up closer to sit next to Vanilla. "Oh, so NOW you wanna calm down? What did I do to ya kid? You were just born and you're already picking favourites!" Shadow Milk complained, holding his finger out to poke at the baby's nose. But it was all in good nature, Shadow Milk rests his elbow on Pure Vanilla's shoulder, and for awhile all seems well.

"By the way, the other souljam holders are coming over!" Pure Vanilla simply stated, his voice lacking any care-- if anything he seemed happy at the thought of seeing his friends again.

"WHAT?! OH, THEYRE NEVER GONNA. LET ME LIVE THIS DOWN."

Shadow Milk on the other hand.. wasn't as pleased. The last thing he wanted was his friends coming around and questioning (maybe even poking good fun at him endlessly) for having a child so suddenly..

[noncompliantcyborg]

"Don't you see you're still giving them what they want?" Reya demanded. "Giving them a body you think is deviant, changing it, trying to get a result you think is Pure?" excerpt from FAILURE TO COMPLY by cavar

@librarycards got me an advanced reader copy of this novel and its taken awhile for me to get to it. Some things have happened to me and when I've tried to read since even if I get through a book, even if I'm processing the pages, quizzing myself, checking in, I retain next to nothing. I was scared I'd read this and it would be the same, that I'd be on the other side and not be able to say anything about it or feel like I hadn't read anything regardless of the actual contents of the book. I was afraid regardless of what the book was supposed to do I'd be on the other side of it more frustrated with my bodymind.

So I didn't read it for months. I looked at it on the shelf next to all the other books I wanted to feel like I could read. At the end of December

Hi, this is now March 2025, I'm concussed, and I found the above in my drafts from January when I finished Failure to Comply. I had a lot of moments of kinship/familiarity between the experience of reading the book, what it explored, and existing as my disabled mad trans bodymind. I also felt some mutual frustration over wanting to more completely understand it/myself and also over the course of reading, became more comfortable with existing in that state. I know there is more I wanted to say, but I'm posting this because I'd rather acknowledge it in some capacity now than have this languish in drafts longer.

[chaosherald]

Don’t know if anyone’s asked about it yet but the wip First Talon/Mask gift?

I’m so intrigued!

Oooooo. I'm glad you asked lol. This is way near the top of the original "fic drafting" document, so it's an idea I've been turning around for awhile.

The crows are fascinating. The concept of a non-crow romancing Lucanis and therefore joining that world in some capacity is also fascinating.

So as I see it, Lucanis has found his person. She *very publicly* helps him rescue Caterina and take down Illario and as far as the other crows are concerned has just helped him secure the position of First Talon. He can't hide her/pretend she isn't important to him, so his next best option is to make a public statement that she's off limits/under his protection. (doesn't mean that'll stop folks from going after her to try and get to him, but it'll be a deterrent/make it very clear there will be consequences if anyone tries anything.)

I also love masks. Like, one wall of my kitchen is decorated with masks. If I visit a place that has/makes masks I am coming home with a mask 😂

So the "azure crow mask" room decor was absolutely on display in my Rook's room and I was delighted by the masks on display in Villa Dellamorte that you get codex entries for - that they were symbols of traditional contracts and Crow history etc. My headcanon/extrapolation became that the mask in Rook's room was given to her by Lucanis after they took down Illario, that formally presenting a mask to an ally in the crow world was a big deal - a public declaration that Rook is part of House Dellamorte. Like, down the line when Rook and Lucanis actually officially get engaged, most of the crows are like "and? He gave you a mask years ago, this is not a new development."

And my crypt baby Mourn watch Rook has no idea 😂

Rook stood on the stage, taking in the spectacle before her. After dealing with Illario and his Venetori allies and after Caterina’s dramatic declaration, the gathering of Crows had turned into an impromptu celebration. Though impromptu might be the wrong word. The near nonsensical thought crossed Rook's mind that Illario must have planned the catering and wine, the music and spectacle, to fete his ascension to First Talon. Instead, it became a celebration of his defeat and Lucanis grand return. The whole thing made her tense in a way she had trouble defining. Being very much an outsider, with Lucanis lost to the crowds, added to her unease.

Next to her, Taash was laughing as they regaled two Crows with a story involving a collapsing cavern and hidden gold. They nudged Rook's arm, grinning. “This is awesome. We rescued Lucanis’ Grandma, beat up his cousin, and get to party with the crows.”

“I can't say this is how I expected the evening to end” Rook said slowly, scanning the crowd. “Did you see where Lucanis got to?”

(and bonus dialogue with Caterina, who absolutely understands the declaration her grandson just made in front of their entire organization)

“He did not tell you what it means. Presenting you with a mask. With that mask.”

“Ah, no. He did not.”

Moving much faster than one would expect from a woman of her age, Caterina grabbed Rook's hand. She seemed to be making a study of it, tisking softy. "Skinny fingers. Tell my grandson if he returns his mother's ring I will make the necessary arrangements with Giancarlo."

"Right. I'll...do that."

(original ask game post here!)

[blu-engiespy]

my blu team and sickness because i have a terrible cold right now and am coping

(this was saved to drafts and never finished! It's been months and I'm not even sick now but found it forgotten so I've finished it now)

Scout: Scout doesn't like to sit still, so he doesn't like to rest when he starts feeling sick. He's in denial. He will absolutely get hit like a truck, sniffling, laying on the couch like a sickly victorian child with the worst cough you've ever heard. Will complain endlessly especially about the taste of the medicine. But he doesn't stay sick for very long at least.

Soldier: "A real man can tough out any sickness! Back in the war we had typhoid, we had dysentery, we had trench foot! But did we complain? No!" Soldier being sick is Everyone's problem. He absolutely doesn't cover his face when he coughs. He refuses medicine and then is caught making some sort of scary home remedy. He's probably poisoning himself enough to kill the germs somehow.

Pyro: Pyro doesn't really ever get sick since their gas mask + full protective suit stops most germs. But if they do manage to get sick, they just sort of disappear into their room for awhile. It sucks to cough and sneeze into their mask so they don't want it on! The others leave medicine and food at their door until they feel better.

Demoman: Demo hibernates when he's sick. He takes drinks of alcohol to 'kill the germs' and passes out for hours, claims it's the best medicine. But he at least knows how to ask for help if he needs it.

Heavy: Heavy initially hates accepting help from most people when he's sick. Medic always insists though, and she's the only one he'd ever listen to. If anything he really appreciates her careful attention, it's the only thing he could like about being sick.

Engineer: Workaholic alert! Engineer won't stop unless convinced to, or if he passes out at his workshop table. I've actually already written a sickfic one shot about him before. Engineer will tough anything out as long as possible, and end up shaky and delirious if he's not careful. Spy will always immediately start taking care of him as soon as he notices Engie's unwell though.

Medic: If you thought Engineer was bad, Medic is worse. You need to drag her out of the medbay and lock her out. She's a doctor, she should know better! She's just a terrible hypocrite. She's already dosed herself with enough medication to be "fine" and is pouring over paperwork at her desk anyways. You will find her passed out in there and upon being woken up she'll insist she was just napping for a few minutes.

She's got work to do and if she's not working on something else she's inventing some weird new treatment to test on herself while she's sick. She will inject herself with the most dangerous sounding medication cocktail in existence to see if it fixes her and it very well might not. Then, and only then if she's nearly (or has!) sent herself to respawn through whatever she's put into her veins or by working herself to death will she consider resting to be her only option. But god forbid she miss work.

Sniper: Where is Sniper? He won't show up to meals, he won't leave his van at all. He's making use of whatever rations he has stored away. You will not see him. You might not even know what happened to him unless you check on him. He might not even know what day it is, and if he can't fight he can't fight. They'll figure something out. He doesn't hate Medic, but he hates being a bother to anyone, so he won't ask for help. Scout will probably drag him into the base eventually at least.

Spy: He is not doing well at all. Feverish, shaking, his head hurts worse than ever. His already migraine related and sickness worsened nausea and dizziness makes it hard for him to so much as move. If it's really bad the fever can trigger his seizures. You will very likely know he isn't well when you find him collapsed on the bathroom floor. Then when he's delirious and feverish he's more likely to have stress induced nightmares. Engineer will be sure to care for him and comfort him as much as possible until he's better.

[toseehowthestoryends]

Hal Gates = Henry Avery

So, I've seen the theory that Hal Gates = Henry Avery, and I laughed at it until I did the research.

And holy shit, it fits.

What made me start scratching my head was when I stumbled upon a second draft script for the pilot that is a little different from what aired. It straight up says that Hal Gates is in his 60s in Episode I/1715. For some reason, I figured him a bit younger, but since Mark Ryan was only 58 when the show started airing...it starts to make sense.

Henry Avery was (probably) born in 1659. He'd be 56 in 1715.

Short history: Henry (Hal?) Avery was a British-born sailor who spent some time in the Royal Navy as a master's mate, became a privateer, and then a pirate captain when the crew of his ship mutinied and elected him. Then he became the most successful pirate of his age, the "Arch Pirate," and the subject of the first-ever worldwide manhunt after only two years as a pirate captain.

Then he escaped with his loot around 1695, twenty years before Black Sails begins, never to be seen again.

But there are theories that he disappeared to New Providence Island.

(More on that below the cut). Isn't that fascinating? We don't know where Hal Gates comes from, but we know he's been around for quite awhile. He's the right age (practically spot on). Hornigold implies that Gates has been at sea for around 50 years, which would mean he first went to sea around 1665, give or take a little. The first mention of Every at sea is around 1671, but what's 5-6 years when you're rounding?

The Black Sails universe credits Avery/Every as one of the founders of the Nation of Thieves, saying "this is a place for free men," on New Providence Island. He's also the man who found Skeleton Island.

We know Hal Gates sailed on his crew and had his journals (his "prized possession," which he gave to Flint for safekeeping. Why give those to someone who was supposedly a minor member of his crew (someone who was "terrified Avery knew his name")? That doesn't add up very well. Why would Gates even have those journals?

"They say it started with a man named Henry Avery. Sailed into the port of Nassau, bribed the colonial governor to look past his sins, encamped his crew upon the beach, and thus began the pirate issue on New Providence Island." (Thomas Hamilton to James McGraw)

Avery vanishes into thin air, after supposedly giving Hal Gates his journals and leaving some of his crew on New Providence Island, including - presumably - Gates. Unless, of course, he is Hal "Gates." Then we've definitely seen him, the man who didn't really want to be a pirate captain until it was thrust upon him. That's a weird attitude, unless, of course, he's retired and is just going to see as a quartermaster because he missed the action?

More Avery/Every history beneath the cut.

Black Sails spells his name as Avery, though the common spelling is actually Every. So, what's his story?

Henry Every, also known as Henry Avery, Jack Avery, John Avery, Benjamin Bridgeman, or Long Ben, was the "Arch Pirate" or "King of Pirates" in his day.

He was probably born in Newton Ferrers, England (near Plymouth), in August 1659. His last name may have been spelled "Evarie" at this time.) Sometime between 1671 and 1689, he joined the Royal Navy under the name Henry Every and made it to the rank of master's mate before being discharged in 1690.

He also married to Dorothy Arther in 1690. Even in the navy, he was known as a family man, sending his money home instead of wasting it.

Then Every joined up with a new shipping company, and became first mate on a privateer warship, Charles II. The Spanish Expedition Shipping company was basically a bunch of English privateers who headed out to help Spain (then an English ally) hurt the French (never an English ally) in the West Indies. But Spain didn't deliver the promised letter of marque, failed to pay them, and left them sitting around as virtual prisoners. The crew of Charles II mutinied. Next you know, Every was unanimously elected captain and they changed the name of the ship to Fancy.

Over the next two years, Every and his crew embarked on a legendary series of raids that culminated in him commanding a squadron of pirate ships and taking a prize worth about £600,000 (about $135 million today). This was a 25 ship convoy owned by the Grand Mughal (Emperor), and it was the biggest prize ever taken by a pirate at the time.

The result? The first ever worldwide manhunt for one Henry Every. Britain's privy council and the East India Company offered a bounty of £1,000 (about $224,000 today) for his capture, plus a free pardon to informers.

It was due to his actions that Parliament declared pirates hostis humani generis ,or enemies of all mankind.

What happened to Every after this? What we know for sure is that he disappeared, forever to be the one pirate who got away scott free with his treasure. Sightings were reported for years, but none were reliable. Some say he died in poverty after squandering his treasure or being unable to sell it. But there's a strong theory that he disappeared in a place we all know very well: New Providence Island.

According to this theory, in Every and Fancy headed to St. Thomas and sold some of their treasure. Anchoring about 50 miles off New Providence Island, some of his men went to talk to the governor and ask leave for the crew to come to the island in exchange for hefty bribe. Their captain, "Henry Bridgeman" promised the governor a gift.

Every's crew spent months in the Bahamas and Fancy was stripped of everything valuable, ending up running aground and sinking, perhaps at the governor's orders. Eventually, the governor learned about the price on Every's head and put a warrant out for his arrest, but he seems to have tipped off the crew. Of 113 men, only 24 were captured (and 5 executed). Every was never seen again, having told his men multiple stories about where he intended to go.

And then he vanished, never to be seen again.

Unless he didn't.