#Leave Me The Feck Alone

[dduane]

Disclosure: We've got an affectionate relationship with this seafood-loving restaurateur up in the near-Dublin suburbs. Gaz runs good places.

Just saw this tweet from him and realized one more reason why we like Gaz. :) Check out those bar mats.

(Note to @atomic-two-sheds: Knowing Gaz, they'll be swiftly banned, and will NOT get the coveted "Banned From Michael's" T-shirt, either.)

[chiisana-lion]

man if i wasnt already so attached to my normal sideblog id have moved here ages ago to avoid my sister. still just using this temporarily but damn it i wish they had Some idea of fecking privacy on the internet

[writersdrug]

hehe hi! anon here! didn’t know what you wanted in terms of request but 😭 how about like a comfort request? i’ve just had a pretty bad academic related experience, so maybe head-canons of any character of your choosing for comfort?

Ooooh I like this a lottt.... of course I'll be using the CoD boys, but I might throw some random ones in here too, be prepared lol. Thanks for the request!!!

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE OMGGGGG

CoD 141 Headcannons: Comforting You through a Rough Academic Period

Simon "Ghost" Riley:

He wasn't really the academic type, so he couldn't entirely understand why you let yourself agonize so much over your studies.

But he respected the fact that you were working so hard to achieve your goals. Something he never got to do often for himself, since most of his job was just following orders.

He would sit there and watch as you sat, neck stuck out towards your computer and your back hunched. He'd sigh, moving behind you to roll out your back, wincing as it popped.

"Christ, love - get up and walk around for a second, yeah?"

"I'm almost done with this module, just let m-"

"Up. Now." He'd order you to move, but would drag you out of your seat whether you started to move or not. "You'll get stuck if you sit like that for too long, looking like an old man."

"Like you?"

"Oi!!"

Simon would practice your flashcards with you, although he wouldn't be very helpful. He'd just shake his head when you got the answer wrong, not bothering to help you find it.

"... is it the femur?"

"No."

"... the tibia?"

"Nope. Try again."

"Can I get a hint?"

"No."

"..."

He knew to NOT distract you when you were on a roll. He can manage keeping himself busy while you studied, doing his own work or helping with chores around the apartment.

He knew, from experience, how easy it was to forget to take care of yourself - so he did it for you. He brought you water every time you emptied your cup. He would bring you snacks periodically, or he would cook a meal for the both of you. He'd sit and eat with you, not making any conversation so he doesn't distract you.

"Anything you need, love, just tell me."

If he caught you getting distracted, whether you would glaze over what you were reading, or your conversation with him would go just a bit too long, he would redirect you back to your work.

"Finish that bit and then take a break with me."

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish:

He hated the fact that all of your time was being consumed by something other than him. When he would walk out of your bedroom first thing in the morning and see you bent over the table with your laptop and notebook, he would groan internally. He'd rather you be be bent over the table for him.

But he remembered how often you waited for him while he was deployed, so he patiently waited for you.

Well, as patient as he possibly could be.

After about three hours, you'd be the one lecturing him, telling him to go watch tv or go out and do something so you could finish. Every now and then, he'd only agree to leaving you alone if you would promise to go out to dinner with him, whether it was casual or fancy. After agreeing - and several kisses for convincing - he'd let you be.

"Wear your favorite jeans, ok?" he'd say.

"You mean your favorite jeans?"

"... yeah." he'd smile ear-to-ear.

He would stand behind you, his head resting on top of yours, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he read along to the biochemistry textbook you had on your screen.

"Shite, hen, you studying to be a fucking wizard? What is all that keech?"

He'd constantly throw passive-aggressive praises at you, saying how you're so strong for sticking with your studies, and how he would have given up after looking at the first page.

"You gonna remember me when you're up there with the brainy blokes?"

"Of course I will, you're helping me pay for this."

"For feck's sake, I forgot 'bout that."

More than once, when you dropped your head down in frustration, he would walk over and hold it back up towards the screen.

If you studied in your bed or on the couch, he would sometimes lay with his head in your lap, wrapping his arms around your thighs with a tired pout on his lips.

"Hold me when you're finished with that, yeah?"

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

He admired your determination to get your degree - he felt a sense of pride every time he saw you studying, especially on the days where it was particularly hard for you.

He was your #1 supporter, constantly encouraging you, praising you, and helping you see what your working towards. He'd be carrying you through the lows of your emotions, making sure you didn't feel hopeless.

"Of course you got this, babe, you're so fucking smart!"

While you were reading the module in the textbook, he'd be looking up videos on his phone about the subject, watching it on the lowest volume so as not to disturb you.

He'll sit on the floor with you, your notes strewn everywhere, listening to you talk about the subject you're working on. He'd do his best to engage in conversation with you about it, hoping that it helps you retain the information better.

Truth be told, he doesn't know much about the subject, but he's just happy to help. He'd let you vent about your current frustrations.

"It says that this piece is in 3-4..." you'd mumble.

"Yeah?" he'd reply, not sure where you were looking at on the page in front of you, but doing his best to follow along.

"... and that this one is in 4-4 too, but each note is made up of triplets."

"Triplets?!"

"Yes! And THIS one is 2-4, ALSO with triplets!! They all sound the same!!"

"How the fuck are they different?!"

"You tell me!!"

You knew he wasn't sure what you were talking about, but that he knew what you needed - a shoulder. And he always provided you with that, no matter what kind of day he'd had.

He'd encourage you with snacks, going through your flashcards with you and tossing you a pretzel every time you got one right.

"Tchaikovsky's 'Swan Lake' starts off in a blank chord."

"Melancholic?"

"Close, but try again. Think simpler."

"... minor?"

"There you go." he'd toss you a pretzel from across the couch.

Captain John Price:

Mans goes full dad-mode when helping you study.

He has a week away from missions? You'd best believe he's spending it at the dinner table with you. He'd work on his own things, sitting next to you, while you study.

He had a no-phone rule at the table while you worked. At first you whined and fidgeted with your hands, itching to check your phone for any form of distraction. Eventually, you gave up, diving into your studies as Price smiled smugly.

Like Simon, he'd be bringing you snacks and water throughout the day. Lots of shoulder massages, scalp massages, and stretch breaks (he'd try to participate, until he'd strain his back too much).

If he notices you struggling, evident in the way you scowl and grip your hair near the scalp, he'd sit right beside you and try to help you understand the material.

Unless it was math. He couldn't stand math.

"What's that?"

"That's mu."

"Come again?"

"It's a Greek letter, it represents the population mean."

"English, love."

"N-no, it's Greek!"

"Huh?!"

"Never mind, John, I got it from here." You'd kiss his cheek, thankful for the moment of amusement he'd provided. He'd continue staring at the screen, grumbling about how ridiculous math had become over the years.

For at least one of your breaks, he'd insist on taking you for a walk. You'd stroll around the neighborhood, basking in the chilly Autumn air mixed with Price's warm arm around yours. As hard as it was for him to drag you out of the house, you were thankful for his stubbornness to get you moving. The pace of the walk and the sound of the atmosphere around you helped clear your head of any frustration and brain fog. You'd close your eyes and lean your head against Price's shoulder, trusting him to take the lead.

A day spent studying was rewarded with an hour or two either in front of the tv, lying in Price's embrace, or the two of you just sitting on the cough together, having a conversation free of your school subjects. Most of the time, you'd fall asleep before him, and he'd let you lie there for a minute before he'd carry you to bed.

"Try not to work yourself too hard, love. Y' need to be strong for me tomorrow."

[ieatkeyboard]

LEVIATHAN CHARACTER DESIGN JUDGING

@ewesless This is gonna so hard- I'm doing this on my phone and I needed to shove Satan in photoshopped for his- So I'm hoping this goes well :,] PLEASE REMEMBER EVERYONE IS ENTITLED TO THEIR OWN OPINION AND I'M NOT HATING ON THE CREATOR, THESE ARE JUST THINGS I DONT LIKE.

Okay duck feet. I just realized his little pins are :) :| :( I LOVE THAT- I hate his hair dude holy feck BUT THIS IS ABOUT HIS CLOTHES SO I'LL LEAVE HIM ALONE. I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO FIX THIS.

LET'S TRY-

I definitely tried- I made the shoes a blueish-gray. The jacket is light and dark purple, I really liked the pins so they stayed the same. The pants are still gray but I took away the yellow stripe and made the cuffs also purple. His headphones are black, pastel bue and pastel pink with hearts. You know those pastel asthetic gaming set up videos? That's the vibe-

NEXT

Oh fuck me- the leggings? Under his shorts- I'm getting very big ideas. But this color scheme and pattern is FUGLY AS SHIT. So let's fix it

WEEEEEE

He looks like he's about to go to the convenience store- I made his jacket black, kept his actual shoes matching colors but changed BOTH places because why tf wouldn't you?? Made the headphones purple with little hearts agaaain and made the cuffs of his sweater purple :]

NEXT

OKAY. I have the sleeves. AND IT ISN'T EVEN MUCH DETAIL AT ALL? AND I HATE IT. Don't overall like the white on his chest and hood either.

LETS GOOO

I took inspo from the "scales" in his pants. I did the hoodie the way I did to make it looks like his envy was ripping him apart (Hence the "ripped" sweater and the purple all around the zipper). SOOO YEAH. 😎

I LOVE LEVI- THIS WAS REALLY FUN

[graysparrowao3]

Snippet Sunday (Sfriday)

At this point I could just wait until next Sunday, but fuck it, we make the rules. Thank you ever so much @dutifullylazybread for the tag.

I'm not sure if I should share some Rolan, Cal, and Lia, or some Rugan x Aradin, so fuck it, we make the rules, I say both!

A couple of no pressure tags and please do tag me to let me know if anyone else would like to jump in and share, I love these little sharing ones. @lostinforestbound @tickitytockityrattityrottity

Snippet of Rolan, Cal, and Lia

"We'll see a dawn if I have to light the sun myself."

"If that was what dusk was like I'll take everlasting light, thanks," Cal awkwardly fidgeted with the point of his ear, as he'd done since he was little.

"Can you really do that, Rolan?" Lia broke the melancholy with a sincere question, her fury dampened by cautious hope, "craft the blaze of a sun?"

"Not as yet," his sure tone almost as reassuring as the act would have been, "but it's an iconic spell, I'll be conjuring an entire constellation before you know it."

"Go on then," Lia sighed, exhausted, "give us its iconic name oh maker of stars."

"Could go with 'The World's Most Handsome Brother'", Cal grinned, his mood already brightened by Rolan's confidence, "that's me, if you didn't get it."

"We got it," Rolan rolled his eyes affectionately. "Could be three balls of fire. I'll call it "Rolan, Cal, and Lia."

"Cute, if zero points for creativity." Lia forced herself not to smile.

Cal waved his hand in the air before Rolan as if he were tracing stars across the sky,

"An Elturel Genius.”

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Rolan enjoyed the moment before muttering, "even an apprenticeship in Baldur's Gate."

"Dwelling won't make it any easier."

"No," he admitted, "but I think I'll stew in misery a little longer. Perhaps they'll mistake me for a local after all."

"That's not funny, Rolan," Cal scowled.

"No, it wasn’t," Rolan grimaced, "sorry, a poor joke in poor taste."

Snippet of Rugan x Aradin

“We gonna drop this fecking charade, or what?” Aradin lent forward over the table, his voice softened and low.

“Thought you weren’t after ‘out,” the Zhent relaxed, indulging in his victory.

“Take it or leave it,” Aradin looked away from the satisfied smile and drained his cup, “you ain’t my only option.”

“Seems like you’ve got enough to contend with,” the older man refused the obvious bait, “wouldn’t be right to take advantage.”

“Right, well,” Aradin muttered and scraped the chair back across the floor, “I’ll leave you to it.”

The same scraping that Rugan’s recent business associate had caused when they stood to shake hands. The adventurer would probably take the same route out of the building, exit from the same door where he’d watched them leave. Or maybe he’d hang obviously onto the bar, filling himself with ale until the next chump came along. Either way, the Zhent would still be sat at his table, alone in the dark alcove, trying not to think about what was going to come of the deal. The fuck had his life come to? He necked the remains of his drink and grabbed the adventurer’s wrist, wrenching him back and pinning him to the table.

“But then,” Rugan said slowly, “maybe I’m not such a nice man after all.”

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

I feel like in the earlier chapters, every part just created more mysteries, and now every chapter I solve another. It's very satisfying for me.

“Graves holds them here”, Rudy points to the map he spread on the table.

Soap leans in to examine it, “his own personal black-site prison.”

“He would separate revenants by what powers they have,” Gaz squints, “Price can be held in a normal cell, but Alejandro…” he glances at Rudy, “how would he stop him from phasing?”

The Vaquero sighs, “Basement. He can’t phase if there’s nothing to go through, and he can only do it in bursts.”

Ghost analyzes the floor plans. They’re overwhelmingly outnumbered here, fighting against an enemy that has eyes literally everywhere. Graves must have some kind of weakness…

“Do we know what happens to his Shadows when he sleeps?” Ghost wonders out loud.

Rudy lifts a brow, “I… we gave them a barrack block. I never actually went in to see what they do there.”

“Didn’t see any at night, but that would be a major disadvantage. There’s no way Graves will leave the prison unguarded for however long he needs to sleep for.” Soap regards Ghost.

“He must have a collaborator, or just be able to let them loose while he takes a kip.” 

The four soldiers are lost in thought for a moment, trying to come up with any plan of attack.

“There are too many unknowns.” Gaz breaks the silence, “I can go recon the area, find out if Graves left any blind spots for us to infil through.”

“You can’t just go alone, Gaz.” Soap instantly argues, “he catches you, we won’t know until it’s too late.”

Rudy, however, seems to like that plan, “I’ll go with him, we’ll stay on comms in case any of us get caught.”

Johnny presses his lips to a thin line, “and what do me and Ghost do then? Sit here with our thumbs up our arse??”

“You two can sit here and fuckin’ rest”, Garrick scrutinizes both of them, “don’t think I forgot how you”, he points at Ghost, “couldn’t stand up until a few hours ago, and you”, he moves to Soap, “were bloody passed out for half a day.”

Johnny and him share a look of exasperation, and begrudgingly nod. 

While Rudy and Gaz are busy preparing for their mission, Soap finds Ghost “hiding” in the armory (he will deny it till the day he dies again).

Sometimes Garrick reminds Ghost a little too much of the Captain.

“So…”

“No.”

Johnny sputters, “ye didn’t even let me ask!”

“I’m not sending you to Limbo right now.” Ghost puts down the knife he’s been sharpening.

“Aye, you rather do it when we’re alone? When no one will be able to help us if something goes wrong again?” his Sergeant drawls sarcastically, “that would be grand, wouldn’t it?”

“Fuckin’ hell- fine. Get Garrick and Parra outside, just quit your bloody yapping.”

Johnny smiles brightly, “thank ye, LT!”

Gaz, Rudy and Soap make it outside in record time, Johnny no doubt rushing them the entire way. He and Ghost separate from the other, starting to walk farther to make sure the two other revenants won’t be caught by Limbo.

Ghost feels fondness settle in his heart. He shoves it off just as he pushes Johnny’s face back, making him laugh.

Ghost’s legs are still shaky even after hours of resting, and he muscles through the pain. Johnny clearly has noticed, as he abruptly says, “think that’s far enough, LT?”

He looks back at the small figures of Rudy and Gaz, “affirm. Come here, Sergeant.” Ghost waves him over.

Soap raises an eyebrow, but follows, “thought the whole point is fer me to be outside yer little bubble.”

“If the victims are calm enough, I’ll let you out on a walk.”

Johnny pouts, “I’m not a feckin’ dog, Simon…”

Ghost looks down at him, smirk hidden under the mask, “you already got the name for one, Johnny. Who’s a good boy?”

A terribly irresistible blush spreads on Soap’s face, and he punches Ghost’s shoulder a little too hard, “feck off ye fuckin’ stupid bastard…”

Ghost chuckles when Gaz yells at them, “can you two stop flirting for one second?! We need to leave soon, get on with it!!!”

“Watch it, Sergeant!” Ghost clears his throat and pretends not to notice the middle fingers Garrick flips at him, “ready?”

Johnny shakes off the color from his cheeks (shame, that) and nods sharply. He takes Ghost’s right hand in his left, the white flames curling around their fingers, “ready.”

Ghost takes a deep breath, squeezing Johnny’s hand. The fire isn’t warm like his other hand’s. It doesn’t distract him from the cool darkness of Limbo.

He opens his eyes. Limbo wraps the world in a thick blanket of black ink, yet it’s not completely dark.

The moths, Johnny’s moths, are still here, circling still figures of humans. The victims of Limbo are almost serene, enthralled by the flames that trail the little insects.

It’s almost…

“Beautiful.” Johnny mumbles next to him, “why are they so…peaceful?” Soap’s eyes shine with gentle fire.

Ghost frowns for a moment, unsure of how to answer, until he understands, “they always chased light, mine and yours. Now that they have it…” he looks back at the voidscape.

He wants to cry of joy. Somehow this, the gift Johnny allowed into this world, feels like an apology. Ghost never liked how tormented his victims were here, knowing allies and enemies alike would suffer for eternity.

Watching them now, tranquil for the first time in years… it’s like what Limbo was originally.

Ghost’s realm wasn’t always screaming in unending anguish. 

Johnny lets go of his hand, and Ghost’s heart skips a beat, “wait, don’t-”

“It’s fine, Simon. You can feel it too, can’t you?” he smiles softly at Ghost, “they’re not gonna hurt us.”

Soap lifts his left arm, pushing it through Ghost’s protective barrier of light. It parts for him like a mist, and he walks out. His body drags light behind it, enveloping him for a second.

The residents of the void turn their head to him, but Ghost senses no malice within their empty stares. He tentatively follows Johnny, the wisps of light travelling with him.

One soldier walks towards his Sergeant, and Ghost swiftly blocks his path. Johnny puts a hand on his shoulder, “let’s see what he wants.”

Reluctantly, Ghost steps aside, and the soldier gazes at him before averting his eyes to Soap’s left hand.

Johnny slowly raises his hand, and the soldier pushes his face to it, gentle in his movements. 

“Ye want…” Soap swallows thickly, Ghost watching as tears gather in his eyes, “I understand.”

The hand glows brighter, Johnny taking in a deep breath, and flexing his arm, exploding the soldier.

The void creature dissipates, leaving behind a single, bright moth. The insect lands on Johnny’s raised hand, and his Sergeant smiles sadly.

“You can free them…” Ghost feels warmth travel down his chest.

“Aye. They’re misunderstood souls.” he turns his blue eyes, glimmering with ethereal glow, “reminds me of someone I know.”

He looks so blinding, brilliant and bright, luminous here in the dark.

Simon lifts a hand to touch Johnny’s cheek, mind fogged by reverence. He swipes his thumb over the tan skin, feels Johnny press closer.

He can see a question in Johnny’s eyes, something he’s not sure that he has an answer to, will ever have an answer to. It doesn’t matter, when Johnny finds it, and steps closer.

His Sergeant puts hands over the skull mask, and Simon can feel his brain melt into mush, a shaky exhale leaving his lips. He takes Johnny’s hand and slides it under the fabric, letting him brush softly against scarred lips, warming him like sunlight. Simon almost moans at the sensation, gentle flames bringing him to total bliss.

Eventually, they had to leave Limbo behind, Ghost blinking away the realm. He stays in a sort of daze as they both walk back to Gaz and Rudy, Soap explaining Limbo is docile now, and won’t hurt him anymore.

Simon wants to live in this moment forever.

Ghost barely listens, too occupied with his fingers wanting to brush over the lingering heat Johnny left on his face.

Gaz and Rudy take a truck with them, promising to radio in every 30 minutes to confirm their position. Ghost and Soap will be ready to jump in, if trouble will arise.

And with how their week has been going, Ghost doesn’t expect it to go as smoothly as it does. 

“Guards are all Shadows. They’re not patrolling, but the place is full of them.” Rudy’s tinny voice relays over comms.

“Some of them are overlooking the sky, they’re waiting for us.” Gaz adds, wind almost swallowing his words, “Rudy, are there any tunnels around the prison?”

“Negative…”

Johnny snorts next to Ghost, reaching to press the comm’s button, “ye all forgot I’m a walking dynamite factory? Tunnels won’t be an issue.”

Ghost leans closer to talk, and tries to ignore what feeling Soap’s body pressed to his does for his heart, “if we know where Alejandro is, we could get directly to him.”

A hum vibrates through the radio, “good thinking, hermano.” Rudy commands.

“We find him, and he’ll be able to go through and release the others.” Garrick continues forming the plan, “we’ll have to work fast, I’m sure Graves will hear the explosions before we reach Alejandro’s cell.”

Soap sighs, “could always try the distraction plan again.”

“Yes, because that went swimmingly last time, Sergeant”, Ghost drawls, “we can’t cause too much destruction when we don’t know the team’s location.” no matter how docile Limbo is now, it will still tear anyone else’s body apart.

“So our priority will be getting everyone out as fast as possible. After we regroup, you and Soap can erase the bloody place as much as you want.” Gaz’s voice distorts a little through the radio.

An almost manic grin spreads on Johnny’s face, and he looks at Ghost, “I like the sound of that”.

As Garrick and Parra put away the equipment, a ring comes from one of the laptops Rudy left open. The revenants share an odd look - how did someone find them?

Ghost reckons his brain must be fucked with the way his heart beats faster at the words.

Rudy covers the camera and answers the call, lifting a finger to his lips to signal them to stay quiet.

The Vaquero’s brows crease when he sees the caller’s ID.

“I know you’re there, boys. Wouldn’t call otherwise.” a familiar voice says. Ghost frowns and walks towards the screen.

“Laswell?”

“Ah, Lieutenant. Are the others with you?”

Ghost motions Rudy to uncover the webcam, Soap and Gaz joining the view. The two look relived to meet another ally, but Ghost still has to verify Laswell’s intentions.

He crosses his arms, “I suppose you heard of Graves’ little fiasco.”

The woman sighs, “a real shitshow, that one. Shepherd isn’t happy.”

The name sends fury down his veins, “was he the one that ordered you to find us?” Ghost’s tone lowers dangerously.

“No. He doesn’t know your status.” some shifting can be heard through the shitty laptop speakers, “Shepherd’s the one that ordered Graves to turn on you.”

Ghost growls, “He knows about this?!” 

“Yes. I did some digging.” Laswell sends a couple files, and Rudy quickly opens several photos, some Ghost recognizes from his and Garrick’s mission in Sweden.

“Graves and Shepherd have been tracking the human trafficking rings for months now. Once they realized what they were after, they decided to fight fire with fire.” 

A photo of unmarked Shadows exchanging money with smugglers appear on the screen, “Graves used Shepherd’s money to buy the kidnapped people before anyone else could, and send them into hiding.”

Another picture covers the previous, Commander Karim and Alex’s face popping among Shadow Company’s soldiers, “he also tasked Graves with helping the ULF, that among other things releases the revenants held by the Russian occupiers.”

Gaz frowns, “but Farah said the PMC started kidnapping their own revenants. That doesn’t sound like fuckin’ help to me.”

Laswell sends another file, fully in Russian. Ghost isn’t well versed in the language, but by the way Soap’s eyes widen, whatever’s written there is rotten news. “It appears Shepherd and Graves couldn’t resist the temptation.” the way Laswell talk sounds acrid, “they wanted in on the experiments. So they started their own.”

“They can’t… that’s not feckin’ possible.” Soap mutters, “they didn’t succeed, did they?” he demands of Laswell.

“Soap.” she placates. Johnny’s hands burn brighter.

Ghost turns to look at him, “what does it say?”

Soap sneers, glaring at the screen, “they’re trying to create a “revenant killer”. Something on a power level that has never been recorded.” he clenches his fists, “they take the most powerful revenant they can get their hands on and let ‘em loose on humans. But it never fuckin’ worked, did it?”

“...on the contrary.” Laswell slowly answers. “There’s a revenant killer in the room right now.”

All eyes turn to stare at Soap.

Johnny takes a step back, the horror slowly painting his features.

“They’re all trying to replicate your death, Sergeant MacTavish.”

ta-ta-TUM

[mysteriouslyjellyfish]

I WILL KEEP PUTTING ONE FOOT IN FRONT OF THE OTHER EVEN IF I'M MOSTLY CLOMPING AROUND IN CIRCLES HOPING I MANAGE TO RUN INTO SOMETHING GOOD

you can't get me down, guy whose dog bit me when i tried to go for a walk for my Mental Health who barely said sorry! you can't get me down, crappy chain thrift stores without dressing rooms! you can't get me down, people I've met several times who never remember me! you can't get me down, endless fecking to do list! you can't get me down, all the older men who can't read "leave me alone" social signals I've interacted with in the last few days! you can't get me down, underfunded state health insurance bureaucracy! you can't get me down, rejection from a job that i am overqualified for! you can't get me down, sink full of dirty dishes that seem to multiply when I'm not looking!

hahahahahahahahahahahah where is the line between tears of slightly insane coping laughter and just like, tears

[cafeacademia]

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐭

There is a big list of prompts below for fluff, angst & hurt/comfort and smut (18+ if you request smut) BUT feel free to also send in your own ideas/prompts and mix and match my prompts with your own. These are all Autumn/cosy themed - even if the prompt itself is not inherently Autumnal, the theme of the fic will be!

My requests are open for: (if any of these are crossed out, it's because I have a lot of requests for them)

Spencer Reid

Derek Morgan

Bucky Barnes

Matt Murdock

Pietro Maximoff

Marc & Steven

You can send up to 3 prompts per request from any category. Feel free to send several requests if you like, just maybe don’t send me a feck load all at once lmao. Make sure you send the prompts or the numbers and let me know which section it was from as well as the character you want to request it for.

If you want to add in or send your own ideas and prompts, I’m open to most things, but my main boundary is writing about motherhood/childbirth/breeding kink etc. I’m also open to mildly dark fics (by mildly dark, I mean things like consensual non consent, maybe a little bit of dubcon, naive!Reader etc, but I will never write it so that it’s super dark)

Fluff Prompts

Playing in the leaves together

Going for a walk/hike to see the changing of the leaves

Always seeing each other from the window and finally interacting one day

Spending a gloomy autumn afternoon in the back of the library/bookshop together

Working in a bookshop and finally approaching your regular customer after he comes in so often

You always bump into your neighbour on the rooftop or on the fire escape and this time you finally stop to talk

Reading dark academia/spooky books together

You go to a halloween party together and he’s super impressed by your outfit/costume

You’ve been penpals for ages, but you’ve never met in person until a stormy autumnal afternoon

You knit a scarf or jumper for him and he LOVES it

Decorating the house/apartment for autumn

Having hot coffee in a quiet cafe and playing chess or reading together

Going to a museum together

Making him a book nook for his bookshelf as a gift

Trying to help him explore fiction more by giving him your recommendations through little secret notes and he has to work out who his secret book recommender is

Baking pie or cakes together

Having a secret friendship/relationship and meeting somewhere obscure

Passing notes in university lectures and getting to know each other only through the notes because you’re too shy to approach him outside of class

Museum curator!Reader/Character gives the other a tour of the secret parts of the museum at night

Artist!Character asks to draw/paint you as part of a project

They discover your writing/drawings/poetry about them after you lose them

You go out to an orchard or pumpkin patch together

Angst & Hurt/Comfort Prompts:

You get stood up and he makes your night better

Too afraid of horror movies to watch them but too timid to tell people about that and him being the first or only one to realise

You go to a haunted house and you’re genuinely terrified

Scary biker!neighbour!character intimidates you to the point that you are terrified of him, but he’s actually very sweet and he almost has to corner you to show you that he’s a sweetheart and not going to hurt you

He takes his frustration out on you but is quick to patch things back up

He pushes you away when he’s afraid of you getting too close and getting hurt by what he does

Soulmate au - he tries to make you think that your soulmate is someone completely different because he’s afraid of you getting too close to him romantically and getting hurt

Someone won’t leave you alone and he’s about to step in but you kick ass before he can even open his mouth - maybe he falls a little bit more in love with you after that

He does something to scare you by accident - he didn’t want you to see that side of him

The guy that always intimidates you comes to you for help when he needs patching up/a place to stay and be safe for a couple of days and you realise he’s really not that scary at all

You reach for his hand when you’re scared/upset and he tries your best to comfort you

You tell him your trauma/about something that really hurt or scared you

He protects you when you’re walking home and someone approaches you

He intimidates you, but when you need him you approach him scared to ask for him help

Someone (another character/ex/etc) says something to hurt your feelings and he stands up for you

(18+) you try something new in the bedroom and you end up needing to use your safeword, character comforts you

Reassuring you that you will always be safe with him and he will never let anything happen to you after something happens to scare you - or you talk about a traumatic event to him

You overhear him talking about someone and misunderstand - you think he’s complaining about you, but he’s not. He finds out later and comforts you.

Smut Prompts:

Sex outside but sheltered while there’s a storm overhead

He pleasures you or you pleasure him while the other reads their book aloud as a challenge

Sex in front of the fireplace

God/Demon AU and he fucks you in his temple on Halloween

He gets turned on by you wearing a Halloween costume that is more like lingerie than a party outfit

Fucking in the office late at night

He takes you somewhere semi public or completely public during a mission/case

You try BDSM for the first time

Kink exploration! (send one you want to see - the only thing I won’t write is breeding kink)

There was some intense aphrodisiac in that Halloween hot chocolate you both just drank and oh no… you just so happen to be alone in a room with your crush

A little fun at a Halloween party

He sees how many orgasms he can give you to distract you from the scary horror movie on the tv

He sneaks in at night to see you get cock deep in you- could be a brother’s best friend scenario? Whatever you want idk

He’s a sex demon and he comes to you in the middle of the night (innocence kink??)

YOU’RE a sex demon and steal his soul while you let him fuck you breathless

Library/bookshop sex

Sex pollen

[obaewankenope]

I wonder if the ticks here on tumblr are getting targeted by the bots suddenly. I got gifted ticks recently and have seen a surge of bots all of a sudden, more than I was already getting and like... Leave me alone you annoying fecks, let me have my rainbow ticks in peace

[simon-x-billy]

Simon x Billy

Year of the OTP: February

Chapter 2: The European plug situation

February prompt: Different

AN: Simon x Billy is a slow-burn m/m fic using the first-time-bi trope; turns NSFW (male/male, consensual) beginning tamely at Chapter 7 (July).

Meet my OTP: Simon Lewis, author of a best-selling paranormal book series, who keeps writing himself into his novels; and Billy Delaney, Irish handsome devil and nomadic man of mystery, who chefs internationally; and Italy. It’s sort of like a threesome. Simon x Billy is a slow-burn m/m fic using the first-time-bi trope. TW: References to the pain of being cheated on, bad language, bad humor, puns, Irish-isms, making fun of Americans, massive rewrites.

Read it all: All: on ao3 || Start: January Ch.1 || Next: March Ch.3

Chapter 2: The European plug situation

———/Simon/———

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This is not going the way I planned. I hate it when that happens. I was prepared.

Except for the European plug situation.

First off, my bad. My responsibility, my fault, my dead phone. On day 1, in another country that speaks a language I don’t parlo. Except when I’m having an internal scolding session. Apparently, io parlo Italiano just fine when I least need it. Like when I’m conducting a conversation behind my face. Behind my fucking face. (Whose lip I can feel curling to express distaste and low key angst.)

Ugh. They have to have cell phone chargers at the gift shop. I sigh. Looking around, it’s pretty obvious that this was originally some kind of old, schmancy vacation villa. Something tells me there’s no gift shop. It’s not that kind of hotel. Under my breath I whimper, “Fuck.”

“All right?” It’s Billy. I jump because why is he standing behind me?

I pivot and fix him with my very best suspicious glare. I went to theatre school. Ok, fine, summer camp. Point is, I give good face when needed. This is one of those times, one of those faces. “Jesus! How long have you been standing there, creeper? Were you listening in on my conversation?”

“You mean, the word ‘fuck?’ That was a pretty quiet, short conversation.” He’s grinning at me now.

“Did you go to theatre school?” I clarify, “Like, ever?”

Billy snorts. “No, man. Where’d that come from?”

He’s all good humor and it’s so totally inappropriate, I try willing him to stop. His eyebrow — oh my god it’s humongous wtf — one arches while the other frowns. How does he do that? At least the top half of his face isn’t grinning anymore. That’s progress.

“What?” he demands. “Why’re yeh lookin at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’d like me to feck right off, leaving you alone to realize you’ve not got your room key.” He jangles it at me.

“That would have been the topper to a very shitty day.” Having stopped rolling (not molly - the other kind of rolling), my eyes pop out of my head. Because he has handed me the keys. “Whoa,” I say reverently. “These are sooo cool.”

I have to keep myself from fondling them. “Skeleton keys,” I whisper.

“Glad they cheered you up, man. You were havin a mope there for a while.”

My mope returns. Sort of an exasperation + anxiety x annoyance, to the power of a lingering ache in my stomach that I know from recent experience is a bone deep sadness.

“And now it’s back,” he says. “Whatever’s goin through your head can be moped over later. Mate, you’re in Italy. Yeh haven’t seemed to notice that yet.”

“Is there a gift shop?”

“Sorry, what?” he asks. Is he laughing at me?

“A gift shop.”

“This isn’t that kind of hotel, mate, sorry. Is there something I can help yeh with?”

So many things. “I just remembered the plugs are different here. I have arrived in Italy with a dead phone and no compatible plugs. I feel so betrayed.”

He laughs and his eyes twinkle. They twinkle.

At least he can tell when I’m joking. That’s a thing.

“Don’t worry, Seemon. I’ll get it sorted.” He gives a small salute and disappears into the bowels of the hotel.

Oh shit. “Wait! Billy! Billy?”

A woman appears in his place from some dimly lit doorway. She reminds me of my mother. But with fewer anxiety and worry wrinkles criss-crossing her face.

Damn. Ma would be so wounded by that thought, so I put it out of my mind.

“Signore?”

“Oh, um, si, io non parlo Italiano. I like to start all my sentences that way,” I say with an attempt at charm. Billy doesn’t get to own charming.

She gives me a strange look, and responds with the old classic “Okaaaay,” in heavily accented English. “Why do you stand in the doorway? With the baggage around you like goats.”

Apparently neither one of us is very funny in English. I feel so lost in translation.

“Come. Let me make you checked in, and we will settle you. Come in from the doorstep,” she says as she turns away with her neck craning. “Leo? Leo!”

A young man (boy?) — A young man-boy hurries out of what appears to be an office. She’s peppering him with instructions that I can’t understand. My suitcases are being pulled right out of my hands. Rude! (But helpful. I guess.) Don’t try that in New York.

While she futzes with her computer, I finally take a moment to notice the amazing carved wood segment of wall behind her. I wish I could see it in detail. Figure out what story it’s trying to tell. It has something to do with nudity. I try squinting, but that’s all I can tell from here.

A bright, clashing array of intricately painted tiles are framed throughout the room. Chaotic, yes. Neutral, no. We’ll go with chaotic good. It’s also delightful, which I’m so not in the mood for at the moment.

She tells me about the amenities, breakfast times, the famous restaurant, blah blah blah as she leads me up three flights of stairs, and down a long, narrow hallway with many doors — none of which are mine. I’m starting to lose my bearings, but it’s only one more flight of stairs, atop which she pauses to unlock a door. “It is good, Signore Laywees? You have the face of a dog who is whining.”

“Wow,” I say, taken aback. Taken-aback has now officially been added to my repertoire of faces. Officially.

“Did I say something in a way that is wrong?” she asks, with a worried look.

“I don’t know. You might have actually wanted to call me a whining dog.” I start to chuckle.

“Yes. Exactly. A whining dog. I remember for next time.”

I blink.

She nods, “Si certo. Certo. And I tell you that what is here is the finest suite at Hotel di Limoni is here.” She ushers me on to the top floor. “You look around, you. See that there are no other doors here to this floor. You are here alone.”

“Yes. Yes, I am,” I nod, thank her, “Grazie,” and close the door behind her.

———/-/———

My mood disappears instantly.

Oh my god I’m in Italy.

The room before me has pale yellow walls the color of butter imported from Irish cows. That’s specific and descriptive, Lewis, nice one. (I try to encourage the writer within, whenever I can.)

Source Right: Hotel La Tonnarella. I stayed there, but not in that room. I wasn’t trying to get in that much debt.

Everything is in shades of sea and sky blues, bright lemon yellow, and pale Irish butter, with more of the chaotic good tiles here and there working their delightful magic. The bed cover is also in pale Irish butter. I will sleep in pale Irish butter tonight. Oh yes, I will.

The overall effect is an airy room, full of light, that recedes into the background against one hell of a view.

Large french doors lining the exterior wall lead out to a massive deck. One that I and I alone can access. The doors have been thrown open, with sheer curtains rippling into the room. The breeze off the Mediterranean Sea is fresh and cool.

Oh my god. That’s the Mediterranean Sea!

Or Tyrrhenian. Whatever.

I watch as boats speed across my entire view, appearing and disappearing between the open doors. They leave their long white slashes behind them, literally left in their wake. From inside the room, they look like dashes, stuttering white lines in each window darting through the perfection of the blue Medi/Tyrrhenian Sea.

Waking up to this is going to be amazing. She would have loved it.

“Fuck her. She can’t have it.” It’s mine, and mine alone.

———/-/———

I acknowledge that I need to stop. Stop with the moping. Fuck Billy for trying to be friendly and helpful, the bastard. That charming Irishman is right and I temporarily hate him for it. But only hyperbolically.

I walk out onto my balcony and into the bright sun. I immediately decide that this is worthy of a sunburn, and shuck off my shirt.

Oof. I’ve just realized that my eyes are watering because that distinctive odor is coming from me.

One would think a shower after a sunbath would be the rational, intelligent option. Nah. Intelligence has fewer hit points than stacking a 24 hour odyssey of jet lag, rumpled hair, eau de pit, and a bad attitude. I’m winning today.

“Chin up, Simon. Chin up.” That was Ma’s pearl of wisdom for this trip. The sum total of her empathy. She didn’t even like What’ser Name. So where’s the sympathy? The empathy? Apparently empathy dims in direct proportion to the glamorousness of one’s vacation destination.

Maybe I can wash the mope off. And the headache. And the me.

Grabbing my stuff, I head for the bathroom and stop dead.

“Dove il bano!” I cry. ‘Bathroom.’ Feh! What an absolutely disgraceful excuse of a word to describe something as magnificent as this. Look at it. So majestic, while also being mindfully calming. Everything everywhere is blue, and I can’t tell the inside from the outside.

Turning on a shower should not be this difficult. I am a grown man, goddammit. I should be able to figure out how to turn on a freakin shower. I mean, I figured out what the extra toilet was for. Correction: Not a toilet but a bidet. Though I admit to having called the front desk about it. What can I say, Italians like to have fresh butts.

“You will not defeat me, vile mechanism of demonkind, I will not be deterred, oh no! I will have my shower, and dammit, it will be good.”

———/-/———

I am happy to report to you, oh devoted fictitious audience in my head, that it was good. It was the best shower of my life. Or at least one of the top five, as I may have better showers even than this magnificent one at some point in the future. At least I doubt I will ever smell so good again. It’s the bath stuff made from a “beneficial” mineral spring somewhere around here. I want to smell like this every day for the rest of my life.

But first. The sun.

I feel unencumbered, unrestrained. So I skip the swim trunks and just wear my towel onto my massive deck. Deck. Not dick. Deck. I do want to let it all hang out there, but then, I also want to disappear into this experience, and the specter of horrified travelers covering the eyes of their crying children is enough to reinforce my modesty. I don’t want my dick ruining anyone’s vacation, so I keep the towel on.

———/-/———

I’m drooling as I wake up on my side with my ass half hanging out. It’s not a good look.

Turns out I couldn’t care less. Four uninterrupted hours of sun, in the peace and quiet of the apocalyptic visions usually filling my head these days. Whenever I think about the book I owe my editor — Noooo! Duck! Run! Hide! — See? I can’t. I won’t. You can’t make me.

And yet I have already double-crossed myself because I’m thinking about it anyway. Yesterday I was still slogging away at Book Four’s first chapter, and hating every single word I wrote. It was a whole pile of nothing. Less than nothing. It was tripe. So I gave up and rashly trashed it, deleting the offending text while I waited to board my flight.

All of it. It’s gone. And that’s a good thing, because every turn of phrase I had managed to wrest from my uninspired noggin just failed like a lead weight. Total fail. I’m used to having a tiny, yet enthusiastic filmmaker living inside my creativity. He’s really good at pulling forth the sweeping torrent of imagery I see like a movie in my head when I’m on a roll. (Again, not that kind of rolling.) But now? I can only manage six or so paragraphs at a time, and hatefully hate every one of them. “Whyyyyyyyy?” I ask the sky.

So here’s what I know: Half my characters will eventually be about to die unless Simon saves them. With the help of super-vamp Raphael and maybe a nymph or two. Looking up, I can see the islands they call the Syranusas, after the sirens who so callously call sailors to their deaths. So now I’m thinking maybe I’ll pull in some expendable mermaids, too. I dunno.

It all just sounds so played out. At least to my eyes. Like, I’m writing another war, with all the same characters, having the same powers, and using them all the same way, to rescue the same loved ones + world from evil the same way. Except I’ve stuck them all on the Mediterranean and added a bunch of mermaids. What’s next? Introduce zombies into the series as if they actually exist — for the first time in book four? Holy hell, writer’s block sucks. God.

This is supposed to be the book that finally focuses on Simon as the main character. The fans just will not shut up about wanting one. I groan. And not in a sexy way. I mean, I know I should be flattered that they like the whole twisty ‘he’s me’ thing, but how do I write a whole book about a character I based on me? Isn’t that kind of self-serving? Cringe?

I am such a dick. Only I would write myself into a book.

My eye-rolls are practically deafening at the mere thought of it. A whole book about me who is not me. And I have only me to blame. (Other me.)

———/-/———

Read More: All on ao3 || Start: January Ch.1 || Next: March Ch.3

[destinyc1020]

How was “The Banshees of Inisherin” ?

Ummm.... Beautiful Irish landscapes.... 👀

I started watching the movie last night, but then started falling asleep lol, so I had to finish the movie this morning.

Chiiiiillle..... I can't believe they made a whole 2-hour movie about two friends who had a falling out for the most mundane of reasons. 😏

25 mins into the movie and we STILL don't know why the old man is mad at Colin's character. 😒 When we finally figure out why the man is so upset and doesn't want to be friends with Colin anymore, you're sitting there looking like....

By the first hour I really wanted Colin to just leave that crazy man the feck alone lol 😆 😂

When a man is actually cutting off his OWN FINGERS because you keep bothering him when he's already asked you multiple times to leave him ALONE, it's time to just give up on that friendship and abide by the man's wishes imo. 👀

Towards the end of the movie, Colin's character almost became a stalker! 🥴 Shoot....I would have left that former friend alone long time ago. You don't have to tell me twice. 👀

To me, they BOTH were crazy! 🤣

This movie wasn't as traumatic as "The Whale", thank goodness. But I can't believe it's nominated for "Best Picture"? 🥴

While Colin's acting was good, I definitely don't think it's anywhere near as good as Brendan's or even Austin's as far as that matter. Jmho 🤷🏾‍♀️

I've seen Colin do much better Academy Award nominating work.... Shoot.... his acting was even more remarkable in "The Batman" (imo), but of course, he wouldn't be nominated for THAT because of the comic book genre of the film. 😏

In fact, I'm actually surprised they decided to nominate Angela Bassett for Best Supporting Actress in "Black Panther: Wakanda Forever" (even though her acting was amazing in it) because the Academy usually doesn't nominate comic book films/comic book acting jobs.

They REALLY should have nominated Voila Davis as well for "The Woman King" for Best Actress. I will go to my grave saying that. 😤

Anyway, it wasn't a bad film, but it was just one of those obscure "Academy-friendly" films where you're like...."Okay, the Academy just wants to nominate these types of films I guess lol". 😏

I saw MUCH better "commercialized"/"blockbuster" films last year that I actually enjoyed lol 😆 Just my humble opinion lol.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind indie films, or "Academy Award-friendly" films at all (I loved "The Father", enjoyed "The Fabelmans", and even saw the msg and beauty in "Nomadland"). I just wasn't that impressed with this one (for an Oscar-nominated film), but it wasn't a bad movie.

[chiisana-lion]

the stuff you’re reblogging about mlb??!? what’s happening with this show

its. so insane. theyve been running around in circles since season 1 with little development up til recently and for the first good chunk the initial love square got swapped (theyre literally like two people with like four or so different dynamics) and then adrien and marinette do end up getting together but not until adrien's dad gabriel mr supervillain hawk moth/monarch himself after having for ages been trying to get the miraculous of the ladybug/black cat to revive his kind of dead wife who he keeps in the basement without his son knowing also decides to have beef with marinette specifically and then a 15yo threw a coup on the mayor and has a breakdown on the same day and then it turns out adrien isnt even a real person and an artificial monster his parents created and this fact was presented to marinette via dramatic theatre play by adrien's ex/marinette's friend who is now dating his cousin and also adrien starts getting nightmares about how he in an alternate timeline kind of got turned into a supervillain and killed the girl he loved his dad and everyone else and destroyed the moon and the whole of planet earth along with it leaving him all alone mourning by himself oh and while that happens he's kind of detained in a solitary confinement room by his dad in london or something so his dad could frame ladybug and chat noir for kidnapping him (note: he literally is chat noir) more things happen marinette/ladybug finds out that gabriel is monarch and tries to fight him about it with both the ladybug and black cat miraculous (their combined form is pretty sick ngl) and did manage to beat him and gabriel realizes last minute in the most halfassed redemption arc (not even an arc that was like not even 5 minutes probably) ever that the perfect world he wanted would just ruin things for adrien so he goes and paralyzes marinette take the miraculouses back for his wish and does end up reviving his dead wife at the cost of his own life and asks for marinette not to tell adrien about ??? him being the supervillain that tormented paris for a solid year????????? abusive dad dictating every single aspect of his son's life???????? hello????????????????? and so that happens and boom happy ending marinette and adrien can peacefully be together you'd think!!! but this isnt even the end of it. ohhh no the butterfly miraculous this time is in the hands of this little bitch lila rossi/cerise/iris verdi whatever the feck she goes by now and good fecking god i cant ever be free from this show you are doing some cocomelon shit to me since 2015 miraculous

[lary-the-lizard]

How would you write jegulus? Or what dynamic do you think they have and don’t have?

This ended up being SUCH a long answer and I am sorry for that. If you make to the end, thank you for investing so much time in my takes 💛

I’m torn between writing them as adults in the real world and writing them as students at an au Hogwarts where there’s no war and they leave Snape alone. The real world adult fics I’ve read they often miss some of the most common life aspects that are so so perfect for drawing the characters out of their hiding spots and connecting. Examples are grocery shopping, house cleaning, long drives, therapy, big parking lots, etc.. With the Hogwarts AU it’s a bit more complicated because I’d have to get them to interact which isn’t as easy as they’re in different houses. I like the idea that they’re both on Quidditch teams and Sirius being Regulus’ brother helps (I’d probably not have the Black brothers fighting because writing them getting along while also having SUCH different personalities is too tempting).

As for the dynamics!! Okay I think I was very unclear in what I meant in my post. I think we all mostly agree on James and Regulus’ personalities and the way they interact and see each other is mostly the same from fanfic to fanfic. James is a simp who loves to tease Regulus about being a self controlled cynic while Regulus likes to tease James about everything and uses James’ own words to get him into self contradictory snares or puts words in James’ mouth. It’s fecking adorable! This ship is actually one of the few sunshine/mudpuddle ships I really like. My problem in Jegulus fanfics is how the characters often act out of character elsewhere in the story. Examples: James being a big hearted softy but absolutely hating Snape and doing everything he can to make Snape suffer and never questioning it, Regulus being a huge introverted perfectionist but easily opens up for James and doesn’t watch how much he’s drinking, Regulus growing up in a homophobic environment and not having internalized it in any way, James having a lot of self control when he’s like… James.

And trauma. Trauma is fecking difficult to depict because it varies so much and it just doesn’t care about how it fucks everything up. That said, a lot of fanfic authors (and it’s not their fault that they don’t really understand how trauma works, or more accurately, doesn’t work. Most people don’t have extreme trauma and aren’t that interested in psychology) don’t depict Serius and Regulus’ trauma very well. They kind of just use it to make the romance more interesting or further the plot rather than giving that subject the care and authenticity that it requires. And I can see why, angsty boys are interesting and writing the whole truth of what trauma does to a person is not only emotionally taxing but trauma isn’t pretty and it’s uncomfortable! Writing someone figuring out how to manage their trauma very much depends on how self aware the character is and how brave they are. Some people cope by focusing outward and blaming others when they mess up and some blame themselves for everything, some logic their way the most they can before dissociating or getting an anxiety or panic attacks (me). Then there’s figuring out how James has the patience for Sirius’ trauma much less Regulus’ when there’s so much of it and he grew up in a safe home where that shit was just sad stories. And being raised to be kind and actually being brave enough to be THAT KIND is VERY different. And depending how much the trauma affected the Black brothers will take a toll on James’ mental health too. If the abuse is as awful as some fanfic authors write then it doesn’t make sense that they don’t have a type of psychosis or personality disorder especially with the type of personality that Regulus has (inward focussed).

So! The story I’d write would prolly be either: Regulus is an academic (historian, psychologist, English/Russian lit) who works at the local college and James is still Sirius’ bestie and is normal (bar tender, vet, woodworker). James and Regulus often discuss philosophical shit (because I’m a nerd) and they one day discover that they disagree on the human condition. Sirius likes to make their discussions more complicated and chaotic because he’s perfect. They slowly get closer as their ongoing discussion becomes more and more focused, start doing everyday life together as they talk it out. The story and discussion come to a conclusion with them deciding what they want their relationship to look like. Or! They’re at Hogwarts and on Quidditch teams. James like to play small, harmless pranks on Regulus (they all think it’s just a James quirk at first but of course Remus notices). Regulus one day finally does a prank of James and James has to start reevaluating how he feels about Regulus which changes how he interacts with Regulus. It angers Regulus because Regulus doesn’t see himself as someone who gets to be treated with this much care. So he tries to push James away and James being James, doesn’t UNDERSTAND, and James being James, HAS to undeRSTAND! They end up fraying each other’s nerves and having to take space. The story ends with them both in their chosen careers, some other romantic/sexual experience, and both are back to playing consistent pranks on each other.

[midnightsaboteur]

Open Starter

Cormac Walden - 25, heterosexual, assistant English professor

(Note: This open is solely in beta editor)

“Ah feck,” Cormac murmured as the door swung open to reveal the other. In a moment, Cormac’s master plan for privacy turned to ashes. Colleges were notorious for having many places to hide when necessary, and Cormac had found his preferred spot in an old filing closet containing paper archives of yesteryear semesters. With a small desk rammed into a corner and chair, Cormac could work uninterrupted and in total security that he was the only one who knew he worked there… until that moment, of course.

The other moved swiftly into the filing closet, the door closing behind them meaning they were alone but with no way for Cormac to leave. Sensing there was no option left but to explain, Cormac smiled initially and shrugged. “I come in here to avoid some of my more… over eager students, plus Professor Winters too. Only way to get any work done really, especially when some of the girls are batting eyelashes at me, and Winters wants some bullshit report.” 

Before they could answer, Cormac reached for the well worn yet beloved copy of A Streetcar Named Desire on the desk and held it up. “You here for this? I’m nearly done with it,” Cormac asked, although a slight smirk then crept onto his lips. “Or is it something else?”

[birbfeeder2artisticboogaloo]

GOOD LORD that film is a FECK of a lot longer than i remembered _(:3」∠)

i had a blast tho!!! and i would like to share some thoughts that i had this time round!!!!! thus i have put them below the cut, in no particular order!!!! read them......if u dare huehuehuehuehue >:D

how did no one notice. that there was a GIANT FUCKING CASTLE. being built in mordor??? wHO WAS BUILDING IT. WHERE DID THEY GET THE MATERIALS. HOW MUCH NOISE DID THEY MAKE. (im not invested in the answers, i just find it funny 🤣)

HOW IS THERE A GIANT FUCKING CREATURE IN THE WATER RIGHT NEXT TO THE DOOR TO MORIA???????? how DEEP is that fucking water??!!! HOW COULD A CTHULHU THING POSSIBLY LIVE COMFORTABLY IN THERE????? is this its NATURAL HABITAT??? is it an INVASIVE SPECIES??? WHAT IS HAPPENING

is ANYONE going to ask gimli if he's ok. ur mans pure SOBBING ON THE GROUND and nobody is going to say 'oh gimli, i'm so sorry about ur friends and relations. let's hold hands. let's destroy toxic masculinity with a brotherly forehead kiss ;A;'. U CAN DO BETTER THAN A GENTLE SHOULDER PAT, SURELY!!!!!

when legolas catches boromir before he can fall in the mines. i wanted them to fuck nasty 👀

wHEN LEGOLAS CATCHES ARAGORN BEFORE HE CAN FALL IN THE MINES. I REALLY REALLY WANTED THEM TO FUCK NASTY

(i HAVE drawn it tbh but it was terrible and bad and it's on my old laptop so it shall NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY. NEVER NEVER NEVER 😳)

my favourite scene is when they all dance in the shire ;A; ive actually got that tune ('flaming red hair' it's called) in a few of my playlists, it's just so catchy~~

i used to be able to play the ~shire~ melody on the pennywhistle. badly. very very badly. but i've lost track of the whistle so ur ears are safe from me 🤣

gandalf and saruman flopping round the room for their ~fight~ will never NOT be funny to me

(12th july 2023 - still in love with aragorn 😔)

(wait no i watched it before midnight so it was the 11th)

(....whatever it doesn't matter, shut up birb 😔)

i passed out IMMEDIATELY after the film ended, i've still got a sore head ;A; it took SO MUCH out of me, i knew it would but it took MORE THAN I THOUGHT ;A;

wheN SEAN BEAN SAID THE THING

legolas out here like 'omg he doesn't even know aragorn 😳' and 'tee hee i'm sprinting atop the snow~ 🤭' are two of my favourite Legolas Expressions, but my ABSOLUTE FAV is his 'oh dear everyone is crying, are they having emotions?? what do i say?? what do i say when ppl have emotions?? can i get out of this. how do i get out of here' face right after gandalf tells them all to FECK OFF U FOOLS and leave him behind

i suspect they PROOOOBABLY had enough time to help him, but. u know. we need drama. abair drama~~~~ 🤣🤣

WHEN SEAN BEAN SAID THE THING. AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

'my brother. my captain. my king.' im fucking SOBBING

what if aragorn and boromir fucked nasty with EACH OTHER as well. pls consider this

'they have a cave troll' is VERY GOOD but WHAT IF: 'they have a fucking cave troll.'

when aragorn tells arwen to 'ride hard', i get the feeling it's neither the first time he's said it nor the only context he's said it in 👀 good for them tho!!!!

arwen: the rivers obey ME and ME ALONE!!!!!!!! oh shit oh fuck frodo are u ok oh my god oh no DADDY HELP ;A;

'ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR!!!!!!' she's damn RIGHT i will, mY POWERFUL SCARY QUEEN I WILL PEEL UR FRUIT FOR U SO U WILL NOT HAVE TO SULLY UR DAINTY HANDS ;A;

(frodo didn't seem to agree with me but that's ok. friends can have different opinions and still love each other!!!)

HIS HUG WITH SAM. that was baby birb's favourite scene, before i got older and discovered that i wanted the handsome human men to FUCK NASTYYYY 👀

that's all for today. AND TOMORROW?????? the second film in the trilogy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[jhara-ivez]

Kokobot, please leave me the feck alone. I’m not good at talking to people. I’m no better at talking to bots. Just let me exist in peace.