#Mullet era begins

[quigzahhutt]

Valtteri Bottas is SO hot Zhou guanyu is CORRECT in his love and adoration for him

FOR REAL!!! I'm glad I have met the right audience with my post bcuz WHEW that man is so underrated .....

[moonieandi]

snapshots pt. 6 | stanley pines x f!reader 

summary: the third year of your life “married” to stanley pines, particularly concerning staying

warnings (TW): swearing, alcohol consumption, nicotine use (gross! but perhaps…sexy?), illegal activities, piercings, gore, panic attack/panic-inducing situation, slight sexual themes

tags: fluff, affection, mutual-pining, miscommunication but like with body language?

notes: the end of an era rip stan’s mullet circa 1985 (according to me and me alone). also like i 100% believe Stan plays in the pool mmk, like def rough housing when yall go swimming i just didn’t wanna write it. But in the back of your mind okay- just know deep down that yall had fun

thanks again for the notes and the comments and the reblogs omg i love reading anything yall leave fr lol- ahhh thanks again <3

word count: 6.8k (yo what howd i manage this)

| masterlist | part vii |

February, 1985 

They had decided to go out that night, making excuses about missing the new year. 

They hadn’t noticed the clock ticking by from December into January, consumed with new wiring in the basement connected to the user panel for the portal. 

She had been ranting and raving again, like he had hated in the beginning of it all, but slowly began to crave in the end of it. He had begun to slowly understand those rants in the coming months too, thanks to her hurried chalkboard drawings of random continuous circuits. He closed his eyes now and could identify different AC and DC currents in the lines of the darkness in his dreams. 

Work would consume them at random, and he had begun to find her downstairs late into the night after having dragged her to bed. She’d creep out into the hallway, lingering in his bedroom doorway. Tucking blankets around his broad shoulders, only to find her way downstairs to the last remnants of Stanford. 

He saw his brother in her at every turn as of late, found his last visage in her shaking hands and deep-seated eyes. He’d tie her to the bed if he had to, no matter how the image shook something deep in him. She’d sleep tonight, and he knew of a way to do it. 

Distract her.

So he took her out to the bar singing to her about the new year that had already come and gone, dragged her up the stairs to change into something that wasn’t covered in oil and dirt, and got her out the door within an hour. 

She looked better now, her eyes less clouded and her smile more radiant than he’d seen in days. She had felt cold for months, and he believed it his own fault because he had pushed her away. 

He had had another dream, more vivid than the previous, and it had shocked him awake so fast in the dead of the night that he actually stumbled to her open doorway, making sure she was where he had left her in his dream. The dream where he had touched her where she had never actually allowed, where he had begged her for words and for more and she permitted it. Allowed him to creep into her bed and make her his, but it had been sickening this time, the sweetness he felt for her, and he woke believing it to be an absolution. He didn’t deserve to think of her like that, because she had never allowed it. So he would never allow it. 

That sickening ache he has felt refused to let up though. And it only twisted into something deeper when he thought of her, thought of her as his wife. The only allowance he had of her, in only words. 

The shake of his hands when he reaches for her now is hard to hide, as hard to hide as his racing heart from himself. His subconscious screamed something anxious when he looked at her now, screamed something of promise and something sickeningly sweet like adoration. 

He wouldn’t use the bigger more unexplainable word. She didn’t feel the same, he reasoned, so it couldn’t be that. 

So he ignored his heart, his shaking hands, and the ache in his chest. How his stomach twisted when she laughed and how he forgot about it all when he had a drink in his hand. 

He had been cold to her recently, and she had retraced all the steps in her mind on how it consequently was all her fault. All her fault that he pulled his hand from the back of the couch now, how he twisted weirdly in his car seat when she sang on the way home. How he wouldn’t look at her anymore, peering through her when she talked to him now across the kitchen table. 

It was all her fault, she reasoned, that he was no longer warm.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, it whispered dark things sometimes. Her lack of intelligence weighed on her. She wanted to prove she could do what they had both set out to do together. Wanted to prove she could bring his brother home, in hopes his warmth would return. So she had slaved away these past months, in hopes he could look at her again. 

But she had forgotten that for now, drink in her hand and eyes already blurry. Laughing at his usual gag of making fun of people around them, creating fake stories about passerbyers, and twisting tall tales about their mundane lives. He hadn’t dragged his eyes from her all night. 

She had interrupted their usual cadence, a sudden drunk contemplative look in her eyes. 

“Ya know.” She sloshed her drink around, the ice almost being the only thing left. “I still sometimes feel as young as I did when I first left home. When I left for college.” She hums, turning her eyes to him. “Do you ever feel like that?” 

“Ah sometimes.” He answers, finishing off his drink and looking to the bar to get them both another, straying his eyes from her for the first time in hours. “But then I remember how my back feels in the morning.” She laughs. 

“No! I mean like, do you feel just as stupid as you did when you were eighteen?” Taking her eyes off of him, a blush bloomed across her face. 

He feels stupid around her, mostly. But a different weird kind of stupid. So he agrees. “Ya, doll. I get what you mean.” 

“Hey…” she’s giggling now, a smirk creeping around the corners of her mouth. “You can still have my bed, Stan.” She said, referring to his stiff back courtesy of Sixer. 

His dream flashes behind his eyes again, of creeping into her bed at her insistence. How she had peeled the covers back and waved him into her. The swell of her hips and the quirk of her brow. He flees, suddenly feeling sober in the face of her. She didn’t mean it like that anyway. 

“How about another drink, hun?” She perks at that, at the name. But nods her head, moving her glass back to his waiting hand as he makes for the bar. 

Tonight had been good, more peaceful. And the most she’s been able to talk to him in a while without the abrupt interruption of guilt that came with living above his brother's graveyard now. Three years, each one more daunting than the last. That and the usual tirade of her self-conscious mind was dimmed in the wake of her numerous mixed drinks. 

But his company was distracting, was always distracting. So she fell into it with ease tonight. The easy cadence between them, his carefree affection he gave when he was hazy, even the rhythm of the music in the bar was enchanting tonight. She was drunk, she knew that for sure. It made her lips loose and her shoes shuffle weird. 

She wanted to dance, to move across the floor. But she only wanted to if he followed in her shadow. Something she usually wouldn’t ask of him, but the drink had absolved her of her usual anxieties. It made the aching heartfelt feelings for him intensified, the thought of him so close to her. She liked that, that feeling. Craved it most days now, especially in his continued absence. 

He came back to her, bar lights lit the back of his head much like they had when she first laid eyes on him that December day more than three years ago. He had a rugged handsomeness to him, sporting new short hair. Something she had teased him about, fake crying at the loss of his long grown-out mullet. She didn’t linger on the feeling of having missed out on running her fingers through his long tousled curls. 

He was his usual charming self, achingly so. His smirk lit his face as he passed back over her drink to her, but she reached across for it in his haste to give it to her. Meeting him on the rim of the cup as her fingers curled around his big ones. 

“Staaannnnnnnn!” She said, a smile blooming across her face. “We should dance!” Perking up in her seat, twisting her fingers around his own. Tracing her thumb across his large palm. 

He flushes like he always does when she touches him. He's much like her though, buzzed off the atmosphere and her presence. It isn’t completely out of the ordinary that he would say yes to anything she suggests, especially when she looks at him like that. 

Her smile tilted, they leave their new drinks behind. Something that normally would concern him if he didn’t know almost everyone in the room at the moment, having seen almost every local come through his tour in the following years. That and he had evenly glared at every man in town in passing, specifically when he was following in her wake. 

The lights in this part of the bar were different. Dimmer in this corner in particular, only lit up by the continuously changing old jukebox in the corner. The lights reflected off her face made him stumble forward. 

The song was nothing recognizable to him, but she seemed to enjoy the rhythm anyway. Twirling her hands up and unconsciously moving her hips. She laughed at his stiff posture, reaching for his hand and pulling him into her. 

“You gotta move Stan.” She had said between them. “Like this.” Picking up his arm, and curling it around her. 

She’d admit to herself later that she isn’t the best dancer, but she had dreamed of his touch for months since he had pulled away this past October. And she was too much of a craven to do it sober. 

So she placed his hands on her waist without much thought, and she dug her hands into his broad shoulders- just because it felt right. He hadn’t hugged her for a while, the memory of their first embrace, down in the basement rang around her head. He had hummed a certain way that day, her ear in the junction of his shoulder as he tried to soothe her for the first time. 

She would be the death of him. He had swore it up and down. The way she looked in the changing jukebox light was riveting, made him stutter over words, and made his hands wander. She was warm and laughing against him, the song drowned out by the entirety of her. 

Suddenly the song shifts, and her smile gets impossibly brighter. She swings out of his embrace, still holding onto his large hand. Moving with the beat of a familiar song. 

She’s utterly hypnotizing like this, the beat of the song drowning out the sound of his racing heart. He couldn’t tell if it was the song that convinced him of this or her, but she captures a small part of his mind as she drags him around giggling on the dance floor. He doesn’t care much for what his limbs do anymore, pulling her back to his chest and letting her muffle her laughter into his shoulder again. He finds himself laughing with her, eyes drifting up and down her form in his arms now. 

She revels in the proximity. She had longed for his warmth in the past months, aching to have him look at her like he is right now. He was finally looking at her, not through her. It didn’t feel like the normal disjointed affections tonight, he felt whole against her for the first time in months. And she couldn’t help but laugh at how much she pitied her past self for having thought she had to beg for his presence. He gave his attention readily tonight, and it was a balm on her anxious mind and made her drowsy in comfort. 

The song came to an end, but his hold did not waver. His hand reaching from her back to her loose hair, moving it away from her flushed exerted face to see the crook of her smile. Her eyes drooping now, her heart steady against his own. 

“Ready to go, doll?” 

She nods, but stops, dizzy at the movement, and giggles to herself. Burrowing into the palm that rests near her face now. She points to the back of the bar, in the far corner. 

“Restroom, doll?” 

She nods pulling away from his warmth and his palm. She would be back. 

“Mmmk, I’m gonna close the tab and I’ll meet you outside alright?” 

She nods again, moving to the much-needed restroom. He wanted to go outside, she figured so he could have a smoke. Something she had chastised in the very beginning all those years ago, but he had a good habit of at least wondering outside to do it on the porch. Sometimes she would follow him out when they were holding those kind of conversations that would follow you from room to room. It had made her stop and stare that first time, finding the way the smoke curled and left his mouth to be captivating. The way he would talk around it, cigarette resting in the corner of his mouth. Something so life-altering shouldn't be alluring, but he had a habit of doing that to her. 

She makes her way back out of the bathroom, their booth empty except for his winter jacket he had left behind for her. Their drinks were long gone and cleared from the table despite them never having touched them. He didn’t even give her shit about not finishing a drink tonight. 

She slips his big red coat on, running her hands along the corner patch like she always does. The coat smells more like him in the colder months for some reason.

She turns back to the bar, an older woman waving her over and vying for her attention. She swears she has seen her before, her red hair catching in the barlight. Probably in the giftshop at some point, looking for cheap merchandise for the holidays to give to family. 

“You both are just so cute!” The older woman remarks as she gets closer to her, her smile inviting.

“Ah, why thank you.” She smiles, thinking of Stan waiting for her outside.

“How long have you been married?” 

“Just had a two-year anniversary.” She hums, thinking about their usual December diner date that had come and gone. He hadn’t drawn with her that year, though. Something that had become a bit of a tradition between them both. 

It struck her then. That they hadn’t been acting much different in regards to the revelation they had just two years ago when she spilled that she had tied herself to him indefinitely. That they had never accommodated themselves to act more “married” for the sake of illusions. That everything they did had come naturally to them both. This woman in front of her proved it, they hadn’t acted any differently than they usually would have tonight.

For a split guilty second, she wonders if it’s a lie for Stanley if he's just that good of a conman and she’s too achingly sweet on him to notice it all. She shakes the visage off like a bad dream, remembering his glassy eyes that December day all those years ago when he had leaned into her side swearing up and down that he wasn’t any good for her. Stanley never lies about anything that could hurt her. He’d never hurt her. 

She sighs, but he's been so cold. Wrapping his red jacket around her, feeling the warmth and smelling the scent he had left behind in it. They’d be okay though, with time. 

“Basically newlyweds then, dear.” The nice older woman comments. The woman looks her up and down, a contemplative smile on her face. She knew she looked weary. “Bit of advice dear?” 

“Hmmm?” 

“Having you around is enough.” She hums. “Just gotta be there for him, stay close dear. Always stay.” The woman reached forward, wrapping her hand around her shoulder. 

Contemplative she nods at the woman, thanking her. Making her way outside and taking the statement to heart. Perhaps she didn’t need to overthink what was wanted and act on what was needed. He must need her, must need her close. She had thought to work herself to the bone to bring back his warmth, but maybe all that was needed was her constant. To be a constant for him. 

She thinks about the way he used to melt into her side on the couch, how he would lean into her palm on his cheek. How he had just reached for her, moments ago. Encasing her in his arms. She didn’t need to find words to soothe him. She never did. 

He was leaning on her passenger side door. A lit cigarette lighting his face. Handsome as all hell like that, his big hand dragging through his stubbly cheek. Dark eyes followed her from the door to the car. Wouldn’t be hard to be a constant for a man like that. And he stole all her words anyway, looking like that. 

He nods, bending to open her door with a quick flourish of his hand, dramatically bowing to her as she ducks into the passenger seat, giggling at his antics. 

He follows suit, bending and folding into the drivers side. Cranking his window down so the cigarette smoke wouldn’t linger in the car. 

His legs bent and parted, his hand nursing his smoke. She moves to him almost unconsciously, still at a loss for words in his simple presence. Thinking about what the older woman had said to her in the bar, jumbled up in her mind. Stay close, right?

She settles into the middle part of the long bench, reaching for the radio and ignoring his imploring gaze. 

“Hun?” He implores. “You gonna move?” 

She shakes her head, moving her eyes back to his again before straying her gaze to the cigarette stuck between his lips now. 

“No baby.” She slurs, giggling at him as she plucks his smoke from his mouth, moving it to hers. 

She had never called him that before, and it makes him need to readjust in his seat, suddenly hot in the cool February air. She’d be the death of him, he swears. Especially with her eyes tilted like that, and the way the smoke curls up around her face and hair. It’d be burnt into his mind for a while, this image of her. It’d be enough to sate him for months he figures. 

He does not correct her, nor make her move. Just reaches past her, buckling her securely into the middle spot without leaving her tilted gaze. His heart in his throat. His hands begin to shake again. 

That damn song rings out from the radio, pulling her eyes from his as she giggles at the contraption. The song's rhythm almost seems to match his heart, stuttering at her form folded into the middle of the front seat. The cigarette balanced in her mouth.

She leans over him, hand finding his chest as she reaches out the open window. Flicking their now shared cigarette into the winter snow. Her palm is warm on his chest, and she drags it to his shoulder as she returns to her seat in the middle of the long bench. A long searing path it leaves across him, she’s warm beside him in his fucking jacket. She’s gonna kill him. 

Something deep in him can’t reason with his stupid logic anymore though, not when she’s like this. So much more carefree than she’s been in months, and something rings around the back of his mind reminding him that it is his own goddamn fault that he can’t control himself. Never hers. Nothing really was ever her fault in his eyes. So if this is what she needed tonight, to feel some semblance like herself for the first time in months, then he wouldn’t flinch away from it. Because it’s all his fault anyway, that rotten part of himselfs fault. That bad part of him, that wanted her for more than this. He wanted to use her, he reasoned. That bad part of him wanted to use her, but she needed him like this. But she had allowed it, so he would do as she needed.

So he lets her curl up into his side in the car on the way home. His hand runs through her hair as she hums the lyrics to that goddamn song into his ear. It’s hypnotizing he thinks, but not the song no, it’s all her. She was that hypnotizing thing, and he had fallen back into her with an ease that would be embarrassing if he gave a shit tonight. But he only has one thing on his mind, and that’s getting her back home. She’d sleep well tonight, he thought. 

July, 1985

“Stan, why didn’t we think of this years ago?” 

“Why didn’t I think of this years ago you mean,” he hums, one arm hung out the open window of the car. “And it’s because I am stupid.” 

She scoffs, reaching across the middle of the front seat to shove his broad shoulder. He laughs, his head thrown back as she grumbles next to him. She hates when he says that shit. She had made a note on the fridge, etched out in her scrawling handwriting that the word “stupid” was forbidden in their house. Mainly because she had found it appalling how used to calling himself sstupid he was. He had joked, reaching for the note on the fridge on occasion. Tearing it down just to say the word, and laughing as she would chase him in and out of the living room to the kitchen. It wasn't allowed, he would joke, but only because it was on the fridge. She’d fume, making a new note, and hanging it up where the old one had resided. He just did it to get a reaction really, when she was annoyed at him it was adorable.

Which was why she was huffing in the passenger seat, and it only made it better when he pulled the note he had plucked off the fridge when they left, from the back pocket of his swimming trunks. 

“Stan!” She whined, reaching across to him again, unbuckling herself to get at him. 

“Ah Ah!” He waved the sign. “It doesn’t count!” Mocking her rule, and watching her squirm over to him to reach across his chest to grab at the sheet of paper she had remade for the fourth time not even a week ago. 

“Stop it!” She said, leaning over him now, her chest to his as she begged him. Was she pouting? 

He can smell her now, so he relents. Kind of all he wanted, he reasoned in his mind, that sickeningly aching part of him that is. 

“Okay okay!” He almost hands her back the sign, but quickly swipes it from her almost-grasp just to tease her. “But only if you get us some ice cream.” 

She hums, nodding along and reaching for the paper again. “Ah ah!” He protests. “You gotta say it.” 

“Yes, I will get us some ice cream, Stan.” She rolls her eyes, hands out and waiting. 

He gives it back, and she successfully puts it back into her beach bag to later hang it back up on the fridge. 

They had both become exhausted by the summer July heat. The AC window unit they had put up to alleviate some of the swelling heat only operated on the second floor of the house. They had been lying around, miserable together, when he had remembered that this tiny town actually had public accommodations in the form of a pool. She had jumped up from the living room ground in joy and had raced upstairs to change so fast he had barely finished explaining how he’d subsequently had forgotten about said pool. 

It was a smaller pool for sure, but this was a small town to begin with. They just needed to be in the water, stat. 

They made their way inside the enclosed pool, finding a seat by the poolside to share that day as the pool was obviously busy in the heat of July. He had grumbled about the lack of shade and trees, thinking about the usual sunburn he and Ford would get when on Glass Shard beach. 

She had found a spot though, setting her bag and towel down, and beginning to take off her shorts and shirt cover. 

He didn’t look, thinking the act to be too intimate to witness anyway. He sat on the edge of the seat, slipping off his shoes and beginning to take off his own shirt, his back to her. 

Of course, she was wearing a bikini. 

The color complimented her well, and although he couldn’t name details on the suit he’d have the image forever encapsulated in his mind. Especially her bent over like that, as she reached down to remove her shoes. 

She made her way in front of him and his slack jaw, her hands on her hips and her head tilted in question. 

“Are you coming?” 

“No.” He said automatically, sounding defensive. Rethinking, he shakes his head. “I mean, yes.” 

He moves his eyes down, noticing something catching the July sun on her swimsuit. No not her swimsuit, on her. 

He squints, reaching forward to grab at her hips, bringing her closer to him so he can see what he thinks he sees in the shade she now provides. 

“Is that… is that a piercing?” 

He had never seen her belly button before. Something that may have shaken a normal husband, but considering she wasn’t actually his he tried to reel in his subconscious insistence that he should have known about this. 

“Yes?” She says, laughing down at him. 

He removes a hand from her hip, moving to touch the belly button piercing himself. It was completely healed, not in any way brand new. Ignoring how soft her skin was, he looked back up at her. 

“When you get this doll?” 

She shrugs. “When I was in college. Someone dared me $50 I wouldn’t do it.” 

Fuck. He leans his head forward, unintentionally nestling into her soft stomach. She did it for money. 

She was almost too much, too good to be true. She fit into him like a puzzle piece sometimes, and he was still continuously amazed by her for some reason. 

Trying to tame some odd part of him he looks back up at her. She’s gorgeous, the sun framing her smiling face. She’s laughing at his reaction, a flush to her cheeks at his casual affection for her. 

She leans forward, putting her hands on his shoulders and tilting his head back. She moves to put her hand under his scruffy chin, asking him again if he was coming along into the pool with her. 

He nods, following in her wake. They eat their ice cream in shared amusement all the way home after a hectic day in the pool. 

*******, ****

“I can’t believe he had it this whole time.” He says, leaning back into the rolling chair stationed in the front of the portal's control panel. 

She hums, peering over his shoulder as he moves back and forth over controls. Flipping and turning things she nudges him in indication to move. The two journals rested on the workbench, the third picture they had taken from the third journal most recently, which had rather unsurprisingly been in the young boy’s possession. 

“You know Dipper. He’s too curious for his own good.” She hums, looking back over his broad shoulder to the portal beyond the protection glass. They had successfully gotten a reaction out of it just the following night, and it had shocked to life, throwing gravity off normal equilibrium for a few moments. She had taken that into consideration, floating around potential reasons for the anomaly in gravity and the correspondence to the potential space-time hole they had punched into their basement wall. 

He leans back in the chair, turning to look at her fully now. Weathered and handsome now, gray hair curling around his ears and his glasses. Just as whole and broad and goofy as he usually was. His wedding band glints on his finger as he reaches for her, a smile growing on his face. 

“You knew didn’t ya?” He says, laughing at it all. “You knew he’d find the stupid thing?” 

“I had an inkling that he may have found it.” She sighs, leaning forward, exhausted, as he runs his large hand up and down her back in a soothing motion. 

He huffs. She’s always one step ahead of everyone. Not that she would tell anyone but him, her husband. He found it amusing when everyone was surprised by her intelligence. It wasn’t a secret to him in the slightest, that she overthought and rewrote a hundred different ways to handle situations in her head. She was weirdly graceful like that, but subsequently also filled with an edge of constant anxiety. 

She had been anxious about the little things today, he could tell. She woke up earlier than normal today but hadn’t moved from his arms. Eyes open and staring at him endearingly in the early morning sun. Usually, it was the other way around. But she had been like that since the kids, really. 

She was also worried about the party, and the townsfolk visiting so close to an active portal. But she had quickly become distracted by making snacks for the celebration tonight, and coloring posters with the girl about their “karaoke family group”. Something with a stupid name he couldn’t remember, but something he figured she helped the girl come up with. 

“You’re too soft on him.” He says, pulling her closer to him, lifting his head to rest on her chest as she stands in front of him. Her brow twists, a contemplative frown on her face. The argument they’ve been having silently for the past few weeks arising once again between them. 

“No.” She sighs, running her hand over his scruffy warm cheek. “You’re too hard on him.” 

He hums. “You know why though.” 

She nods. “I know, dear.” 

Her hands fall to his shoulders, pulling him away from his usual place along the front of her. Pulling his scruffy chin up with the tip of her finger, all the while smiling at him. Tonight had been good, she thought. The kids were happy, and the girl was excited to entertain the town and her friends. The boy had been upset at the reprimand he had received earlier, but she doubted that really deterred him from his mission to uncover the oddities in that journal he carried around religiously now. He’d be over the reprimand by tomorrow, she figured. She worried he may get himself into trouble one day though. 

But her husband had been right in his assessment. Between the two of them, they had agreed there was too much Ford in the young boy than they could manage between the two of them. She was constantly worried about him, worried his curiosity may lead him to unexplainable and more dangerous situations than they could pull him out of him. But his twin, the girl, just as easily wrangled him in. The young girl was a balm on her conscious, constantly reminding her that being so young had been a true pleasure. She just hoped the girl could also remind her brother of this too. There was a lot of her husband in the young girl, she was just as charming. 

Stan was looking at her though, his typical flirtatious smirk on his face. It had been a good night. The portal whirled behind them both, and the music upstairs spoke of the fun the kids were having. She leaned into him, wanting to meet his lips halfway. 

An alarm blared throughout the basement. The security alarm breach that they had put on the upstairs shack door in case of burglary, but more for the warning in case the government came knocking. 

Their faces turn to the giftshop's security camera, the image of the boarded-up front door settling unevenly in her stomach. The kids. 

Something was bursting, punching in and rattling the front door. The children were moving furniture and chairs in front of the entrance. Speaking and screaming between themselves as they made a barricade. 

She runs, removing herself from his warmth. They both make for the elevator, hastily hitting the button to go up a story so they could go from the sub-basement to their actual basement. He was breathing heavily next to her, his large hand folded into her own smaller one. His hair a mess from pulling at it in anxiety. 

The stairs came to view in dim light, and she raced ahead without a thought. Taking the stairs two at a time as she dragged him up to the back of the vending machine that led to the stairwell. 

She let go of his hand, making to move the vending machine out of place to enter the gift shop. To get to the scrambling, scared kids. But it wouldn’t budge under the weight of what lay in front of it. What had amassed in front of the front entrance, they hadn’t caught a glimpse of. But she could smell it, the stench of rotten flesh and the mellowing bellow of the whining undead. Fear ripped through her, but she kept shoving because the fucking kids were in there. 

She yells at him, frightened as she advances her shoulders away and back into the door. Shoving her whole body to move the entrance. “Stanley!” She yells, anxiety running through her. 

But he’s already shoving too. Already has his arms flush to the door, digging his feet into the step for traction as he pushes his whole weight against it. He’s almost caged her in, dwarfing her in his effort to put his own momentum to the door too. His eyes frantic and his breathing hasty. The kids were all alone in there. 

Desperate, she beats her hands against the door, calling for the children in hopes they would seek them out in safety. “Mabel!” She gasps, fists bloody against the wood. “Mason!” 

He drags her back, taking her fists in his hands as he begs her to stop. He takes a lunging step back, pushing her against the stairwell railing. He shoves his whole body against the door, his broad shoulder first, and his suit ripped due to the movement and the force. His own hands and fists bloody from the abrasive door and his haste to get to the twins. 

The door breaks under his weight, and he uses the leverage of the new material to work against the amount of dead bodies that had amassed in front of the vending machine. She follows him out, not thinking twice about the undead surrounding them. Her heart in her throat, her hand wrapped around his bicep as he reached for the bat they kept near the entrance to the Mystery Shack from their home. She screams their names again, clawing to get through the crowd of undead.

“Babies!” 

She gasps, spotting them in the sea of bodies. The young girl's sweater ripped and torn under the hands of all the undead. The boy’s hat missing, his usual jacket she had tucked over his shoulders that morning also torn to shreds, covered in inky black blood. Their eye’s lifeless. 

Stanley turns to her, his eyes hasty and clouded, and his breaths loud. He looks down at her, his shoulders shaking from pent-up tears. His hands meet the sides of her face, and he chokes out something that could be a question. 

“Honey?” 

“Honey!” 

He leaned over her, his hands still on the sides of her damp face.  

He had rushed from Stanford’s room to her open doorway. The cool October air leaking in from his open window, leading him to her room. She had called for him, called for Stanley, and it had shaken him awake so suddenly he had tripped in the hallway to make it to her side. 

She had been dead asleep, and sweating heavily despite the crisp air. Curled into her multiple blankets and tucked into a sweatshirt he had sworn he had misplaced, but she had laughed at in secret. Tucking away the sweatshirt that held his imprint to wear to bed and fold herself into. 

It was drenched now, and her eyes were blurry when she woke to his call. She was breathing erratically, heart stuttering in her chest and mouth dry from her calls. Her eyes searched his for what felt like hours, as he reassured her that it had all been a dream. 

“Hun? Hun, it was a dream. It was just a dream.” He reasoned, his large hands running through her tangled messy hair. Finding their way to the back of her neck so he could hold the entirety of her upper half in his palms. Breathing easy in her presence to show her how to slow her heart. 

She didn’t say anything until he moved from her, beginning to reach around to her dresser to pull out a new shirt for her to wear. 

“No.” She mumbled. “No.” 

“I ain’t leaving, just getting you something new hun.” He reassures but doesn’t let his hand leave hers as he steps towards the dresser in her small room. Pulling open the top drawer, as she sat up in bed behind him. His hand still clutched in hers. Her eyes were still far away, searching dark corners of the room for children. 

He turns back to her, handing her another one of his large shirts. She had all but stolen his wardrobe in the past three years. Sometimes he would wander to her dresser to find some of his clothes that had made a home in her dresser. Something he wishes he could have done himself, by choice. Put his clothes next to hers. 

She takes the shirt, releasing his hand to undress herself from the sweatshirt. He turns around, thinking to step back through the doorway to go back to Stanford’s bed. 

“No.” She says again, pulling at his own loose shirt, stopping him in his move. So he stops, back still turned as he listens to her change. She tugs the end of his shirt again, and he turns to look at her in the dark room. 

She pulls his forearm, her small hand grasping at his large arm as she tries to strongarm him closer. He moves to her, sitting on the edge of her bed, searching her far-away eyes for something. She brings his large palm to her face, resting her now cooling cheek in his grasp. 

“Stay.” She commands. 

He would do anything she asked. He had been so rattled by the call of his name, the rip of her voice, how scared she sounded. He doubted he’d leave her side for a while, until she asked him to go. Then he would leave again. So he crawls into bed with her, shuffling her to the other side, to the wall. He takes the side she used to reside in, her warmth leaking into him. The imprint she left behind encased him. He’s closest to the door, reasoning in his mind that the dark shadows of the hallway would just frighten her more. 

She shuffles over, still sitting up as she rearranges blankets up to his shoulders, tucking him in, in an odd way. He doesn’t say anything but chuckles at the sentiment. She then lays next to him, facing him in the middle. Her blankets shuffled up to her own shoulders. 

She sighs deeply, soothed by his presence after waking up in shock. It had been so real. Like she couldn’t tell the difference between them, between wakefulness and dream state. Like she had dipped her toes into another reality entirely. 

Her heart races again, and she reaches for his hand, bringing it back to her face. His heavy presence was a balm on her weary heart. He smiles slightly at her, humming under his breath as he scoots a little closer to her. Whispering between them as he fades back into a dream, hoping his company brings her enough peace to let her rest for a little while longer until the sun rises. 

“Goodnight hun.” Grumbling in his deep voice, she hums against his hand, burrowing deeper into his palm against her cheek. Her eyes can’t help but drift to corners in her room, again subconsciously looking for scared children in crowds of bodies.

She turns from the darkness in her room, triangles of shadows creeping in from the dark doorway into the hallway. She looks back to him, slumbering next to her now. His head dug deep into her pillow, his breaths shallow and his brow unfurred. 

The dream. In the dream, were they her’s? She can’t remember, looking at him now, it’s like it’s fading into the background. The vivid dream seeping from her mind. 

“Were they ours?” She whispers between them. Asking it out loud, just so she could remember that one part of the nightmare. The one part that made her ache, and wish for something far off that she’d never really had. Were the children ours?

[autisticlancemcclain]

fic rec friday 59

hello and welcome to fic rec friday! where, on friday, i rec five of my favourite fics.

Lance Denies The Feels by @bleusarcellewrites

“Hey, knock it dead, Sharpshooter.” Keith winks and Lance’s weak. ‘Thanks, I’ll be right back.’ He tries to say, to excuse himself calm and collected so he would exit the training room and go to a corner on a room with no boys with hot mullets, so he can maybe, just maybe, come to terms with the sudden events like a normal person. “You fight good!” Lance shouts instead. [In which Lance isn't aware that he has a crush and the realization hits him hard enough to screams his bi feelings out. On an empty room. Which turns out not to be emtpty. It works out for him in the ends, thanks to a Mulan reference.]

big big fan of fics where lance is so obviously crushing on keith that its just embarrassing for everyone around him. and keiths fond and quiet indulgence fucking -- well. truly gets me every time. also love the clowning he gets from the team lmao

2. See no Evil, Hear no Evil, Speak no Evil by galaxymilk

Lance becomes the vessel for a high-tech Galra weapon that will detonate at the mere mention of its existence. The clock is ticking, Lance, you better think fast.

i read this when i was the tender tender age of fourteen and let me tell you it FUCKED ME UP!!!!!!!!! imagine carrying a bomb in your body that might kill your friends. but if you tell anyone it detonates. that fear? that terror? it is REEKING off the fucking screen. you will read this fic breathless. your heart will make home in your throat. your muscles will cramp in their tenseness. also it features lance bragging about keith to random strangers in the beginning lol

3. When Did This Happen? by memoriesofrain

What do you mean they're together? I thought they were just really close! OR No one knew Hunk and Lance were together and Lance is homesick.

some hance!! yall know i love me some secret relationship. and i love it so much more when its not actually secret relationship and is instead 'yah weve been openly dating this whole time yall are just too dumb to notice' like that one makes me giggle

4. Space Is Cold by corvus (borrowedphrases)

Lance is a pain in the butt, but Hunk loves him and worries about him anyway.

was in my hance era when i was making these bookmarks apparently. and u know what? i was correct. hance is cute as shit. also, 2016 fics will always hold the most specialest of places in my heart. each one of them ate truly. this one is so cute and intimate.

5. Snapshots and Other Bonding Moments by @shyfoxes

Hunk and Lance are constants in each other's lives, and that will never change. Four moments between Lance & Hunk and One moment spent with Team Voltron.

four plus ones!! my beloved!!! small moments of regular life love!!! my beloved!!! 2016 fics!!! my beloved!!! god some of the tags on this thing...nostalgia. anyways. i loved this fic because i have always loved fics diving into the characters' lives prekerb, u know? i want Backstory. also the lilo and stitch references were cute. if youre not a fan of hance, this is pre relationship so can def be read as platonic!! such a cute fic fr

that’s it for today!! i’ll see y’all back next friday for the next fic rec post!!!

[d1xonss]

Desert Rose

Chapter 58 ~ As Deep as a Wound

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Rose

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Word Count : 4.4k

In this chapter ~ When the group settles down for the night after the torturous day, Daryl and Rose take a moment to sneak off away from the watchful eyes. Though emotions seem to run high when she is asked about the memories that haunt her, opening up to the one person she could truly trust.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ ROSE POV *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Time seemed to move by quickly these days. But I guess being with the ones you love, catching up on all the many things you missed, it tends to speed up the process. Naturally we had all began slowing down throughout the hours that had passed, the world growing dark as we made it a mission to find a large enough space to sleep for the night. Though the one thing I couldn't seem to shake, was everything that went down at Terminus as I began hearing bits and pieces of the story.

I couldn't believe the things that they must've seen, and the fact that some of them were almost executed didn't sit too well with me. But I had Carol to thank for saving all of them, and believe me, I did so many times that I'm pretty sure she began to get a little annoyed at my gratitude.

And although I was going around and catching up with anyone I laid my eyes on, Daryl didn't let me wander too far.

It made sense to me however; I felt the exact same way. Because at one time or another, we thought the other was dead, leaving us to deal with a very hard and traumatic thing to process. The feeling of having each other close by, was just the kind of wake up call that we both needed to see the reality we ended up with. That we had both truly made it right back to each other, like we had promised in the very beginning of it all.

But the two of us still hadn't said all of the things we truly needed to say to each other. Not having a moment alone from the others since we were all reunited, only glancing at each other in silent agreement that we wanted to be completely alone when the day was done. An audience being present last time we had a vulnerable and intimate moment wasn't exactly ideal for either of us.

At the time neither one of us cared about that, only focusing solely on each other, but I was starting to feel the secondhand embarrassment the longer it lingered in my mind. Crying in public wasn't one of my favorite things to do, believe it or not. It sure as hell seemed like it with how much I was doing it recently though.

Currently everyone was starting to settle down for the night and tried to set up sleeping arrangements as we found a decent spot far from the destroyed community. And though we walked for hours to get away from the terrifying place, they all still seemed to be a little on edge as paranoia was creeping back into their minds. Especially the newcomers.

I still hadn't really interacted much with them, but they seemed nice enough from the very few glances that we had exchanged. There was a big guy with red hair who carried guns like they were his baby, and by the looks of it he was with the woman with the pigtails and short shorts. Then there was a guy with a mullet who seemed way too serious for my liking, and another girl with short brown hair and a charming smile. She seemed like the coolest to me.

The group moved softly and quietly as they got situated in the place we would be camping out for the night, a fire we had lit only minutes ago growing and providing a little extra warmth for us all. I sat there silently with my knees to my chest, watching the flames wiggle in front of me as I spaced off and let my mind run, mostly just exhausted from all the recent events.

But a simple nudge on my shoulder seemed to pull me out of my trance, looking up to see Daryl offering me his hand. I smiled up at him and gladly took it as he pulled me up to my feet with ease, not letting me go as he slowly dragged me away from everyone else. We walked away wordlessly, somehow not even catching any of their attention as we slowly slipped deeper into the forest to finally have a moment alone.

And the second we were far enough away, Daryl dropped his crossbow to the ground before wrapping his arms around me once again. I sighed in content as I instantly melted into his frame, craving the warmth he provided in the coldness of the night.

We rocked a little back and forth as tears began to pool in my eyes for the millionth time that day alone. It was partly because of how tired I was; I hadn't slept for a full night in about three weeks, and it was starting to have a really bad effect on me. But I would be lying to myself if I said the tears somehow weren't for the man holding me impossibly closer to him.

I still couldn't wrap my brain around the fact that I was with him, but he kept his promise, just like he said he would.

He pulled away suddenly and kissed me slowly, tears still staining our cheeks. My eyes fluttered, not knowing how badly I had needed that until it was happening. He then broke away to kiss away the tears that had fallen down my face, wiping away anymore that he missed with his knuckles. A small smile was brought to my face as I looked at him so lovingly, whilst he seemed to look at me as if I was going to disappear all over again.

"I'm...I'm just so happy." I said, not being able to find the right words.

He shook his head as he let out a breath of disbelief, "I can't believe yer alive." he spoke before his face then dropped, "I thought I lost ya forever."

"I'm here." I promised, "I'm not going anywhere...God, I missed you so much." I whispered, moving some of the hair from his face so I could easily see his eyes.

"Oh, you have no idea." he said with a light chuckle, "Never wanna feel that way again...not knowin whether or not yer alive..." he trailed off.

I shook my head, "You won't- we won't...I still can't believe this is real. You're really here."

"M' really here." he pecked my lips a few times, "M' here."

I nodded as my eyes gazed upon his face, frowning slightly to myself when I saw one of his eyes was completely bruised, cuts scattered all over his skin in various places. "What happened to you?" I whispered, a part of me almost not wanting to know the real answer.

His face faltered, but I watched as he took a small step back from me, nodding to himself before opening his mouth to speak again.

He filled me in completely, somehow not missing a single detail. How hard he tried to find me with Beth right by his side the entire time, briefly informing me about what happened to her only two nights ago, how they got separated from each other. It broke my heart to hear not only that, but how hard he tried to find her the moment he realized she was gone.

He then mentioned the Claimers, the same assholes that Rick and I had run into in the abandoned house, telling me the whole story about what they did to each of them. Why his face was still slightly beaten and bruised.

He didn't go into grave detail about Terminus like Rick did, but I understood completely. I couldn't even begin to imagine how horrifying it must've been for all of them, even watching him talk about it amazed me. But then again, he was stronger than anyone I've ever met.

By the time he was finally done, we were sat across from each other on the dirt, watching as he let out an emotional sigh, "I tried...I tried so hard to find ya-"

"You did," I interrupted as I gently took his hand in my own, "You found me."

He shook his head, "Nah...you found me."

"What's the difference? We're together, that's all that matters to me. You kept your promise love, you tracked me for miles and miles on end. That alone is enough to make me swoon all over again." I joked lightly.

He smiled a little and reached into his pocket, "Well...this kept me goin." he muttered, pulling out something to place in the palm of my hand.

I looked down in slight confusion until my eyes landed on the familiar picture he stole from me, feeling myself smile, "You still have this?"

He scoffed, "Course I still have it." he said, making a motion with his hand for me to give it back.

I rolled my eyes at the fact that he thought I would take it from him, but I handed it back regardless. He placed it back in his pocket so delicately like he was afraid he would rip it by accident or drop it into the mud somehow. Like it was the most precious thing in the world to him.

He then leaned the other way to fish around in his opposite pants pocket, and to my surprise, he revealed the purple clip that fell out of my hair what felt like ages ago. "You found it." I said in disbelief, delicately taking it from his grasp.

He nodded, "Was the only thing I could find."

"Thank you." I said, leaning up to kiss his cheek, maneuvering slightly to place it in my jacket for safe keeping.

When I looked back up toward him I found he was already looking at me, however he wasn't looking in my eyes. Instead his gaze followed the cuts that would be permanent my skin forever, and I braced myself for the next question that would fall out of his mouth. I was only surprised he hadn't mentioned something about it earlier.

He leaned closer and cupped my right cheek as he scanned the other, rubbing his thumb softly over my chin. I leaned into his touch, though he looked at me with a certain dread in his eyes.

"What happened, hon?" he asked softly.

I sighed and closed my eyes to try and keep myself together, ignoring the memories replaying over and over again in my mind. I felt him take the other side of my face as gently as possible, to try and avoid the wound that was still healing, offering me comfort to know that he was still right there. Waiting to listen, through fearing the answer.

I almost wanted to pull back and shake my head, go to great extents to not have to tell him what I went through that night. Not even daring to want to repeat the phrase let alone relive it. Wanting to brush it off completely, make up an excuse, anything to just desperately forget about that awful moment forever.

But the very second I looked back up into his eyes, seeing so much concern written all over his face, I knew I had to tell him.

I breathed in and out deeply before finally speaking, "When I got separated from Rick and the others...one night this random man approached me in the woods. I immediately knew what he was trying to do, but...this other guy came out of nowhere and-" I cut myself off suddenly, trying to swallow the lump in my throat that caused my voice to crack.

I closed my eyes tightly as I breathed shakily, "He...got on top of me...pinned me down...but when I fought back, he cut up my face, my neck." I stuttered, tears threatening to spill all over again, "He- he tried to-"

But he didn't let me finish, hearing enough of the horrible things as he brought me in closer to him, wrapping his arms around me tightly again.

He shushed me as I cried onto his chest, clinging onto him for dear life as I almost never wanted to let him go. I was so grateful he was there to listen, to comfort me when I told him. But I knew even the vague story would send his blood boiling.

I felt him tense up suddenly the longer he thought about it, "I'll track em down and skin em alive." he spoke in a low voice.

Shaking my head, I didn't pull away from him as I spoke, "I killed them...they didn't even get the chance to do anything, but...I can- I can still feel his hands all over me, it's- it's so haunting." I stuttered out.

I heard him sigh sadly as he gently placed a kiss on the top of my head, "I'm so sorry, baby." he whispered into my hair.

I only nodded as I didn't feel the need to say anything else, holding onto him tighter as I painfully pushed the images out of my head. He didn't hesitate to mutter reassuring things to me, how he would protect me from anything, and how sorry he was that he wasn't around when it happened. But in my opinion, I thought it was foolish that he was apologizing for something that he couldn't have stopped. He couldn't have predicted the events, nor could he have prevented them. All I really needed from him now was his support and comfort. I just needed him.

He then finally pulled away, almost abruptly to look me over once again, "Did I...did I do anythin to make ya uncomfortable?" he asked softly.

"Oh God, no." I said immediately, "Never. I don't think it's possible. You're about the only person who can make me feel the safest, and I just...I love you."

"I love ya more. Just tell me if anythin's too much, or too overwhelmin, alright?"

I nodded my head, "I will, I promise."

After that we just stayed in each other's arms for what felt like forever, but no amount of time would ever be enough. I could spend weeks on end not leaving this man's side, and I don't think I would ever get tired of it. He was so soft and careful after I told him what happened to me, not that I expected anything else, but I truly didn't know how he would really react. After all, how is one supposed to process something like that?

It all happened recently and was still hard to talk about, I could sense he felt a little guilty for bringing it up in the first place. But I knew I had to tell him eventually. My face was obviously a dead giveaway to something bad happening to me.

And though I would never admit it out loud, to anyone let alone him as well, the flashbacks replayed in my mind more often than I was ever willing to say. It was traumatizing, it was to be expected, but it was eating me up inside. I truly didn't know how I would be able to get past it, see though all of the haunting memories, it seemed almost impossible.

But I wanted to trust time. Trust that it would heal the things that I couldn't.

Eventually we made our way back to the group hand in hand, finding everyone pretty much asleep around the dying fire. I scanned the area around us to see who was on watch and noticed Maggie sleeping alone on a nearby sleeping bag.

I felt Daryl's hand leave mine as he set up a spot for us to sleep, but I gently grabbed his shoulder so he would look back at me.

"I'm going to talk to Glenn for a little bit, I'll be back soon." I whispered.

He grew a little concerned, "Are ya sure? Ya need to sleep, Rosie."

"I'm not that tired, plus we have a lot to catch up on. I won't be long, I promise." 

He hesitantly nodded his head before placing a gentle kiss on my forehead. I smiled up at him before turning around, stepping over snoozing bodies to see which way the man went. I followed the pattern of leaves his feet left behind before I eventually spotted him sitting close to the side of the road, a gun in his lap, staring at his surroundings.

"Don't freak out." I said in a quiet voice, just coming out of the tree line.

He visibly flinched and spun around to see who it was, but once he saw it was just me he relaxed and smiled tiredly. I returned the gesture as I approached, taking a seat right next to him with a soft huff.

"You scared the shit out of me." he whispered.

I couldn't help but laugh, "Some bodyguard you are."

He rolled his eyes, nudging me playfully, "Shut up."

I smiled a little at the banter, before we both let the silence linger for a moment as we looked out toward the darkness ahead. I leaned back on my hands as I rested my head on my shoulder, feeling more tired than I was willing to admit. But I missed him, willing to stay up for as long as I could if it meant I was able to spend time with him again.

"So...you just found those guys while you were looking for Maggie?" I asked, jerking my head back to where the group lied.

He nodded, "Yeah, Tara actually made it out with me from the prison. And we found those three a little while down the road."

"Tara? She's the one with the shorter hair, yeah?" I asked.

"Yep." he replied simply.

I nodded in response, though suddenly grew a little confused as the wheels seemed to turn in my head. "Wait...how was she with you at the prison?"

His eyes widened ever so slightly, his mouth parting as he tried to think of an answer but his silence was all the confirmation I needed, and I stood up abruptly. He called my name quietly as I turned around and began to storm back, but I ignored him, wanting to give her a piece of my goddamn mind.

"Rose, don't." he begged quietly, catching up enough to pull my arm back gently.

"Why?" I asked not so quietly, ripping my arm out of his hold, "She was with The Governor? And you want her to stay with us? She was fucking attacking us, blowing up our home, and you-"

"No, no she never shot at us. She never wanted that...she was scared and on her own and she helped me find Maggie. Just please...give her a chance like I did." he pleaded.

I glanced him over once, twice, trying to see if he was telling me the truth, or fibbing now to avoid a fight. She was on his side, but Glenn claimed she was a good person. Hell, I thought the same thing when I briefly met her until I found out she was with the man that broke all of us apart, took everything we had. But she helped him find Maggie and stuck right by his side the entire time, so I felt I had to give her a little credit.

With a sigh and a reluctant roll of my eyes, I finally nodded my head as he let out a breath of relief, gesturing for me to come back and sit down. I followed his lead as we plopped down together on the grass, thinking to myself silently for a few moments.

"I'm sorry," I finally said, "I just have had some trust issues when it comes to strangers lately."

He nodded, "Yeah, I noticed." he said, gesturing toward my face.

My eyes closed involuntarily as I pressed my lips together, still somehow being able to feel his eyes running all over me though I could no longer look at him. I clearly didn't have a mirror on me, but obviously the markings were very noticeable since nearly everyone kept pointing them out to me as if I wasn't aware. And in the back of my mind I knew these would slowly turn into scars over time, ones that I wouldn't be able to hide.

"Can I ask what happened?" he asked cautiously.

I stayed quiet for a moment as my eyes opened again, settling with staring at the ground below me, "Some assholes that shouldn't have ever fucked with me." I mumbled before meeting his eyes, "And they look worse than I do."

"Good." he said instantly.

I desperately wanted to change the subject, and I knew by the look on his face he could tell, "So... tell me a little more about that trio back there." I eventually pulled out of my ass.

He took a breath, "Well, the guy with the red hair; Abraham, is uh...well he's a character."

"I'm not really sure what that means but okay."

"He's just...well you'll hear some of the shit that comes out of his mouth." I nodded in understanding, "And um he's with the girl; Rosita, and she's pretty cool, I guess. But the last guy Eugene...he's something alright."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Okay, you're being very vague about these people."

"Sorry, sorry, he's just...really smart and apparently knows how to stop this whole thing. I don't think they're staying with us for very long, they have to get him to Washington."

"He knows the cure?" I asked in slight disbelief, watching as he nodded his head, "Bullshit."

"It's true." he confirmed confidently.

I put a hand on his shoulder almost sympathetically, "Glenn honey, you are just about the most gullible person left on this planet." I stated, watching his expression morph into a slight glare, "And I say that with love."

He rolled his eyes and shrugged my hand off, "Whatever." he muttered with a small smile.

"And that leaves Tara...the girl who tried to kill us but then...saved your ass I suppose." I teased.

He nodded, "Yeah, pretty much."

There was a beat of silence before I asked, "Does Maggie know?"

He almost tensed at the question, not being able to meet my eyes as he continued to look out into the distance, as if I hadn't even opened my mouth at all. That was a good enough answer for me.

"Glenn," I said sternly, "She deserves to know about that. After what happened to her dad-"

"Stop." he cut me off with a shake of his head.

"No, you can't keep something like that from her. I mean do you really think she would want her around after knowing who's side she was on?"

He paused for a moment before finally meeting my eyes, "She saved me more times than I can count while we were out there. She helped me through everything and when the three of them wanted to stop, to get to Washington, Tara stuck with me anyways. She could've left, but she didn't. I know she's a good person."

"Okay, but honey, good person or not...Maggie needs to know." I said gently.

In the back of my mind, I knew that he knew he had to tell her eventually and obviously it was going to be hard, but it was the right thing to do. It just made me wonder who Maggie thought this random girl was and where she came from. What kind of story they cooked up for the time being, or maybe she just didn't care too much, focusing solely on Glenn whom she found after searching for ages.

Eventually after what felt like hours, he nodded his head, "I'll tell her."

"Good." I said simply, before giving his had a reassuring squeeze.

As we talked for a little bit longer, he told me that even after everything that happened, he still kept my drawing I drew of us safe and sound in his backpack. It warmed my heart not only that he still had the sketch I gave him, but that he held onto it, and it was one of the most important things to him. I wordlessly pulled out the necklace he gave me out of my shirt, and he smiled brightly at the sight. I always found myself playing with it randomly, a constant reminder that the man was always with me. I hadn't taken it off once since he first gave it to me, and I didn't plan to anytime soon.

After some time passed, I found myself yawning and he was quick to point it out as he gestured towards me, "That right there is a sign we need to stop talking." he said with a laugh.

"When do we ever stop talking?" I asked tiredly.

He shook his head at me, "Sleep. I'm gonna switch shifts with Rick in an hour or two anyways."

I couldn't argue much with that, knowing that I was getting closer to falling asleep sitting up the longer I sat out there to talk with him. I reluctantly stood to my feet, mumbling a goodnight as I slowly made my way back to the camp that was set up for the night.

As I finally found my way back through the trees, I noticed that the fire was still going, causing my brows to furrow and do a scan to see who the hell was still up at this time. But then my eyes landed on Daryl, still very much awake as he sat upright, waiting for me to come back. My pace seemed to quicken once I saw him staring off into space in boredom, his eyes shifting towards me once I was close enough, giving me a small smile.

"Hey." he said innocently.

I tilted my head in concern, "Love, you didn't have to wait up for me. I'm sorry I talked to him for so long."

He shook his head, "Nah don't apologize, I wanted to. Just in case ya needed me."

There was a hidden meaning behind those words, but for me I could see it crystal clearly. In the back of my mind, sleeping in the woods again after the attack did put me a little on edge and I didn't want to be alone. But I didn't even really ponder or worry over it until he said something just now. It amazed me that he knew me better than I knew myself sometimes.

When I didn't say anything to his sweet comment, he patted the space next to him a few times to invite me over. I smiled and walked over to sit next to him, the both of us then laying down together to try and get comfortable for the night. I rested my head on his chest to listen to the steady beat of his heart, though I felt that it increased the moment I got closer to him, and I let myself hum in content.

"Thank you." I whispered.

He moved his head to look down at me, "For what?"

"Everything."

In response, felt him place a lingering kiss on the top of my head, and my eyelids started to get heavier with each second that passed. For the first time in the past week, I was safe, I was calm, I was home. I fell asleep that night without tossing and turning, because of the strong arms that wrapped around me protectively. I didn't wake up multiple times throughout the night, because I knew that he was beside me the whole time. And I didn't cry myself to sleep thinking about the family I lost, because they were right here with me sleeping peacefully.

~ Thanks for reading! (Season five has officially started!)

Taglist - @justareader95 @hayley1998 @ryoujoking @sipsthecoffee @winterassassin1804 @marsmallow433 @catlalice @writingstreetspirit @silentlysuffering98

[nonexistentirl]

Seventeen as types of manhwa characters (in modern romance, with high school or mainly college setting)

(Disclaimer: please do not take anything seriously. I'm just sorting them into character archetypes based on how I see them. You're all entitled to having your own opinions. Most things stated here are made up and not true. Do absolutely not judge the members based on what I've written here.)

Seungcheol: best friend's older brother. Scary first impression. But he grows very protective of MC over the course of the story before eventually falling in love. He debates the morality of dating his young sister's friend a lot before eventually giving into his feelings. Gets jealous extremely easily. Pampers her to no end.

Jeonghan: The Usui Takumi of manhwa world (and the real world as well). Top scorer in all tests yet either skips classes or sleeps through them. It's a mystery how he gets top score every single time. Also, rich af. Bonus, he's the illegitimate child of a chaebol family- oh fuck, I basically just described Usui. Mischievous and carefree on the surface. At one point almost gets sent abroad by his step mother to not be a threat to his half brother and legitimate heir. Overcoming that crisis together pushes him and MC into a solid relationship.

Joshua: the two faced guy who is nice and gentle in front of his love interest but should she gets hurt he would not hesitate to screw the perpetrators over. Not the kind of settle things with his fist of course. He'd screw them over in every aspect of their lives without so much as laying a hand on them. I think there are more secondary male leads with this type of character?

Jun: pretty ordinary before the beginning of the story. Average in studies, hangs out with friends a normal amount, leads a pretty balanced life all over. Until he becomes the guy who accidentally discovers MC's secret one day. They're in the same class so MC threatens him not to spill anything to anyone. From there fate keeps making them cross paths one way or another, making them get more involved with each other and... Yeah.

Hoshi: delinquent. And I'm saying this specifically for Cheers era and RWY era Hoshi. Something about that spiky blond hair with that face just speaks delinquent. But the good delinquent obviously, not the bad kind. The characters that is a delinquent on surface but is a good person underneath. In a manga he'd maybe be a male lead but I've personally never come across a manhwa with a delinquent male lead (recommendations are welcome)

Wonwoo: he's like the blueprint of a manhwa male lead. The tall quiet bespectacled handsome boy (with black hair obviously). Perfect for a strangers to lovers romance. Of course taking off his glasses changes his aura completely and makes MC fall in love with him more.

Woozi: quiet, homebody, introverted, best at what he does. A loner. He doesn't mingle with his peers much. Class valedictorian who gets assigned as a tutor to MC. Has his own baggage which contributes to his withdrawn personality but a green flag through and through. Caring and attentive. Soft and gentle with MC despite seeming uninterested normally.

Dokyeom: MC's younger brother's friend. Upbeat and loud, has the puppy dog energy. He's intelligent but lacks street smarts. Extremely gullible so that MC feels protective over him. Freaks out when MC faces a minor inconvenience. Just freaking adorable in general.

Mingyu: the blueprint of a manhwa male lead in a completely different sense than Wonwoo. If Wonwoo is the Nerd male lead then Mingyu is the Jock male lead. Tall, tan, athletic and has that golden retriever energy. But he's unexpectedly also smart, like, top of the class. And also reliable. He makes MC feel safe and protected.

Minghao: imagine him with a mullet and piercings and fashionable clothes. Biker. His first meeting is basically the modern version of The Crown Princess Scandal. He almost runs MC over with his bike and they find themselves in the police station after. From there on their story unfolds.

Seungkwan: ace of the basketball club. Has a short fuse. When he gets serious, you're done for. The type to confront the person who accidentally bumps shoulders with MC and doesn't apologize on the spot. I don't think I've seen a manhwa character like this either, though there may exist some in Kdramas.

Vernon: the extremely ordinary kinda guy. However, he's always paying attention even when you think he isn't. He notices her absence when MC is missing and helps her out from the shadows (like fake police siren or something). Both parents are busy with work so grew up mostly neglected and alone in the house. Kinda the underdog. His true colours come out when he's extremely pissed.

Dino: met in the dance club. Younger than MC. He becomes her personal tutor for an upcoming dance competition or something, leading to more time spent together and eventually falling in love. Being called Noona had never been a turn on to MC before him.

I originally wanted to make JunHao Manhua character archetype comparison but it's been so long since I read any Manhua that I couldn't come up with a single thing. So I decided to just stick with manhwa. Though I feel like Hoshi, Woozi and Seungkwan are more Manga male leads than Manhwa. Manhwas seriously lack diversity in their male lead casting. I'm tired of seeing the same two people in different fonts. It's always either a black cat or a golden retriever.

[mapletine]

silly celeb au concept sketches (wing photocard next week <3)

+ i have so many thoughts abt this au guys i need to be sedated (don’t open the cut unless u rly want more info bc. there's. A LOT. it will be a wall of incoherent rambling text im sorry)

ok first disclaimers: i know very little abt idols and even less abt modeling so!! if anything is horrifically inaccurate forgive me im stupid!! and also this will literally be stream of consciousness unedited so if it makes zero sense im very sorry

now we begin the madness

some background info: kite was scouted off the street (as he was walking off from pickpocketing someone LMAO) for his height and build, currently very sought after to model for many brands because he’s literally the same as the sketch models on paper so the designers don’t have to compromise on their clothing designs to fit the model, bc he just. looks exactly like the paper sketch. also the white hair is very distinctive!! and his prep/management team is his research team <3 he’s currently the face of several brands, including the zoldyck brand (i see the zoldycks as a very influential family in the fashion/modeling industry, kikyo was a former model until an accident, now she’s focusing on designing, all the kids are involved in the industry somehow, illumi is within the same agency (?is that how modeling works) as kite). he’s in his mid-twenties ish and hes 6'3" - 6'4" (190 - 193 cm)

wing and his idol group debuted a couple years ago (haven’t thought too much about the members, but im thinkin feitan maybe? kurapika?? shalnark?? idk guys maybe he’s a solo act) and they’ve skyrocketed to fame. uhh in terms of content they produce, thinkin something similar to wayv/bts type music (stuff that crowds just eat up LOL like love talk by wayv, luna by oneus that kind of music) and im thinking that wing’s debut look was REALLY BAD (they made the poor man blond) but when they put him back to his normal hair color he got rly popular. he’s had some bad eras where the stylists made him look a little goofy but… he’s good now (his best era was the mullet era). also he was trained by bisky who was a former idol who has retired and she's a legend in the industry… and wing is currently guiding an idol trainee (zushi lol). wing’s in his early-mid-twenties i think and he's 5'9" - 5'10" (175 - 178 cm)

ok and the main 4 fit into this uhh... i think gon is also an idol trainee along w zushi. and killua is currently modeling for a popular teen's clothing brand. i think i mentioned kurapika as being a part of wing's idol group but lowk i think maybe he's an actor instead. leorio is also. an actor. yeah ok there we go

uhhhh ok general thoughts:

i see them meeting at like.. the met gala or its equivalent and they meet when wing trips over kite’s clothes (he’s wearing something with a ridiculously long train and wing isn’t looking where he’s going), and at first wing thinks kite is super standoffish/rude bc he doesn’t apologize or offer a hand when wing trips… he just.. sorta stares at him on the floor for a second then clacks off in his very pointy shoes (he was flustered abt the very pretty stranger who just fell for over him. also he was STRESSED asf) (also the perspective that wing had probably didn't help bc bro was on the floor and kite was staring down at him from a height of like 6'9 with the heels)

afterwards there’s a bunch of pictures and edits of wing falling over all over the internet bc it was kind of funny… and ppl are telling him like “oh my god you tripped over yorknew’s top model the LITERAL FACE of fashion right now” and wing is like “damn i didn’t know also he’s a jerk”… and to kite ppl r telling him “oh my god the country’s MOST POPULAR IDOL tripped on you” and kite’s like “uhhh.. who?” (he doesn’t keep up with the entertainment industry despite being a part of it) and they both search each other up and they both have a moment like “oh my god i fucked up (also he's really hot)”

anyways they continue randomly (not at all random very much orchestrated by the people around them) meeting at things,,, there’s a very awkward apology from kite where he explains (sortof) why he didn’t help wing up… uhh stuff happens they fall in love and start dating LOL (i didnt think abt this part that hard) and for a hot minute there r paparazzi photos circulating of them together and the media is losing their collective shit

fast forward a little bit and they r like “yea we r together LOL” and then u start seeing kite at wing’s concerts in a spectator box staring very lovingly at wing on the stage and wing (and sometimes his whole idol group) starts showing up to fashion shows and wing looks like shellshocked every time kite steps onto the catwalk hes got kind of an awed stare on his face

ok future thoughts:

after abt two? ish years dating (engaged for 6 months out of those 2 yrs) they have an extremely private wedding with only close friends invited, and when ppl start noticing theyre wearing wedding bands (takes a while bc wing usually wears a lot of rings anyways, and kite wears his on a necklace and not on his hand) the media has a collective meltdown. again. (i am the media in this i think. i have meltdowns bc of them.)

um and eventually (around when him and kite get married) wing's idol group splits apart as they all go to pursue individual passions/careers, so now he's workin on his own music/vision. i think his personal music is much more peaceful and vibey than what his old group produced, more gentle love songs and poetic music and whatnot.

and kite steps out of the spotlight and is focusing on nature conservation philanthropy type stuff,, so he'll still step out and model for charity/fundraiser type stuff and he's the face of a large conservation foundation. (also bc sometimes he'll join like.. ocean cleanup initiatives or similar things and like. imagine ur volunteering to pick up garbage on the beach and u literally see like. anya taylor joy and her husband also out there picking up garbage or smthn. that's how the other ppl feel.) hes also a big advocate for no kill shelters and donates a shitload to them i like to think.

so yeah ok if u made it this far bless u!!! i dont really have any coherent storyline thoughts just this aggregation of random world building thoughts ok bye (btw if u have thoughts on this feel free to dm me abt them or tell me what u think in the replies or tags im brain rotting abt this stupid au so hard rn)

anyways im no writer (if u couldnt alr tell from this word vomit) so no fic but i may continue churning out thought fragments like this

[buwheal]

what are personally your favorite spamton headcanons?

OOooooh this was the wrong thing to ask me if you hate lots of letters on your screen. Get ready!!!!!! Here's my list :-) Its not organized by least to most btw im just typing everything i like lol :

puppetification theory.. AAUUUGHHH!!!!! this one is so much fun for so many reasons.

he's got a BJD (ball jointed doll) body

He's kinda an asshole

While a good chunk of his glitching is from puppetification, way more of it is from malware he's collected over like 20 years on the streets of cyber city

He absolutely feels and is aware of his glitches but he's so used to them it doesnt really bother him anymore. scratch that, it 100% does bother him that his body is actively defying him. but what can you do? :shrug:

he's like 5'1. I HATE HATE HATE seeing him the size of a toddler both because you can literally see his world sprite is the same height as kris, which is a teenager (His proportions just are unbelievably fucked up because of puppetification) and because thats just kinda weird. Something about making him so so small feels weird to me but im not sure, really. take it with a grain of salt.

He was an Email Addison. You see it everywhere. He was like a mailman or something.

He wasnt like four foot or something throuhghout his whole life, but i do imagine he was only slightly smaller than an Addison, which doesnt sound that bad except when you realize everyone else is normal height except him. Maybe it was a manufacutring bug, or maybe it was intentional for his job.

Addisons are like weird organic robots kinda. Cause everything in cyber city is made of code i imagine they are like basically sentient AI.

They (addisons) physically do not age unless their code is damaged. (Guess who's code is fucked up) They were "born" physically and half-mentally adults, and count their age based on their manufacturing date. I say mentally half because it quickly develops soon after while they do things like advertise. Their personality develops a time after.

HE IS OLD!!!!!!! HE'S AN OLD GUY!! HES GOT LITTLE WRINKLES N SHIT!!! HES GOT A GREY STRIPE!!!!!! Not really because of physical aging but its more of like a glitch tbh lol. Like a chunk glitch in minecraft. Whatever happened as his code got progressively more beat up caused a patch of his hair to register incorrectly and show up slightly wrong.

His hair is natrually white. He dyed it in his big shot era ofc, but it faded out. He keeps it colored currently with car oil and shit. Whatever he can find that will color it. It will and does wash out partially when he's drenched in the rain.

He completely refuses to acknowledge his physical changes. Glimpses he sees he ignores or passes it off as he's seeing things.

He prayed to the Neo robot because he saw the beginning of puppetification. He was praying for forgiveness or another chance. He believed it was a divine punishment because he had no other explination. He doesnt believe he changed much more than the very very early stages, and he thinks he's forgiven in his delusion. Which is why he wants the robot so bad.

When he gets mad he turns kinda red and steam comes out the side of his head in short bursts, train whistle sound effects and all. looney tunes type junk.

He has lips... but they're stretched so far because of his huge fucking brick ass teeth that it doesnt really matter at that point.

He's got a scraggly ass mullet.

he has little bitty dot eyes. Every other addison does too but they keep them closed for visual appeal. Theyre robots and shit they dont really need them to get around, even though they help a lot.

Thats about all i can think of rn!!!! ^_^ hope you enjoy that brick of text lol.

[changelingsandothernonsense]

Wip Whenever

It's the first day of spring kids! I want winter to come back... Tagged by both @mareenavee and @orfeoarte <3 I get to this really late so I imagine everyone else has been tagged/ I probably shouldn't be a bother with my art wips lol. Anyway, we have art and writing... I've been doing a bit of costume design. That and we finished Josh's hair in the render and we will start with that.

Josh fucking about in his big, fancy warlord tent before assaulting Red Mountain. That man built an army and is choosing to be a tart about it. Let him be... also probably the longest extent of his hair. :P This is long so under a cut the rest goes!

Next, I've been playing with two concepts the first is Josh's Twin Lamps persona Molag’shaln. Oh, it's a whole arch.

And the next is Josh's appearance as of 4th Era 199. Complete with Ashlander ritual scaring. These symbolise atonement (yes Yani has the same style, he got them as atonement for familial mistakes, Josh's is Red Mountain related). Oh and the mullet stays, I can't help myself. It's too him.

Josh is done with everyone ever for the reasons below... Writing! Been working on Serious Mistakes again and yes...its a Josh chapter. Josh is in a fight then he gets tired.

Hang on.

“What?” He hissed under his breath.

Something whizzed past Teldryn’s right ear, the sound vibrating the hollow helmet. He felt a heat erupt behind him and smelt the stench of burning fabric, wood, roasting fish, ash yams. He turned to face the bazaar and saw the canopies had caught alight, the flames spreading through the marketplace with a ferocity that suggested an accelerant. He realised that he hadn’t smelt anything but sulphur, ash storms... Surely, he hadn’t missed something that obvious! He rushed back towards the marketplace. A small group of well-armoured mercenaries were clashing with a growing contingent of Redoran Guard. He scanned the battle scene, searching for the Argonian who stole his belongings earlier that day. Nothing! Wait! Scales!

The scene was a blur as Teldryn rushed in. Golden moonstone sword clashing with blades of iron, steel. He moved between the mercenaries like a dancer, skewering one particularly persistent one who would just not fall to his sword the first five times he slashed at him. He hastily pushed the dying Nord off his blade with the heel of his boot.

He looked around the scene before him, the shadows from the fire were disorientating and the smoke was beginning to choke the air from his lungs. No! He can’t have lost that bastard yet! Not when he was so close! There was a sudden movement. A peculiar figure in dark leather armour was racing north up the main street towards the city gates. Slight, his tail bobbing in rhythm with his gate. He’d found his man! 

He heard a woman scream.

He looked behind him, attempting to locate the out-of-place noise. Not far from the entrance to the Netch was his answer. A Khajiit was tugging a slight dunmeri woman by her hair. His clawed hands unsheathing his sword. Time seemed to stand still for several moments. Teldryn looked back towards the fleeing Argonian. Then towards the Khajiit. He watched as the Dunmeri woman reached for the small weapon at her belt. The Khajiit moved his blade towards her abdomen. Shit! He ran towards the mercenary, sword in hand. He grabbed the fucker by the throat and plunged his blade through the cat’s spine. Bone cracking and giving to his blade, the slightest smell of burned flesh and hair wafted on the wind. The Khajiit gurgled as his body finally went limp against the blade.

They really just make it too easy?

He let out a breath and looked over the mess before him. The Dunmeri woman had landed on the ground. Auburn hair fell wildly over her face. The front of her terracotta tunic now soaked a dark red. She stared back up at him with those same wide, amaranth-coloured eyes he’d first noticed at the corner club weeks ago. What was she still doing out here? Practically unarmed and totally underprepared!

What was she thinking?

Why do you care?

“Damn Outlanders, never paying attention! You’ll get yourself killed!” He scolded. Teldryn pulled his blade from the now lifeless mercenary and dropped the sod to the ground before the woman. He lightly flicked the errant blood to the side and watched as the woman before him smiled and tilted her head to the side. 

He didn’t mind that. He also didn’t have time for this.

Don’t lose him!

Shit! Right again! Teldryn looked back towards the main gates, the faint shadow of his mark disappearing amongst the darkness. He was right, the Raven Rock Gaols were the target. He took off in pursuit, all his focus on reaching those cells before that fuck could disappear into the tunnels. He moved through the dying chaos, certain that the rest of Veleth’s men could handle whatever mercenaries were left. Teldryn sprinted back through the main street slowing down to a light jog as he approached the Bulwark. He can’t lose him down those tunnels. Not now!

He reached the shabby wooden door that led to the town’s gaols. It had been left wide open.

Teldryn quickly entered the narrow passageway, carefully closing the door behind him. He didn’t need anyone else following him. Not when he was so close! He stomped through the dimly lit corridor towards the singular cell that lay at the end. The barred gate had been unlocked and left wide open. The room before him was empty save for the small, extremely uncomfortable cot that lay in the corner. He had spent more nights than he cared to admit on that thing. And yet, as exhaustion began to settle in his bones once again that old cot seemed just as inviting as his bed back at the Retching Netch.

By Azura had he really wasted this much energy?

[scarlet-spider-bf]

This is a stating the obvious post but I haven't seen anyone explicitly point it out so why not?

Ben Reilly - a cloned man who was almost broken by the notion of him being less than human, defective, maybe soulless, a cheap copy of a better original - crooked. As Scaret Spider he's been on a journey to define himself and set himself apart from Peter Parker/Spider-Man. So it's only logical for him to have a costume that reflects this. And he wears the Spider, wears it different and proudly but crooked. Fate tried to bend his back and submit to settle for less than what he deserves - the Jackal created him as a slave but he fought for his freedom and eventually suceeded (temporarily...)

Then later on he embraced the revelation that he was actually the original (which turned out not to be true sigh poor boy). What matter is that he got to experience a time in which he didn't feel the need (as much) to prove he deserves the bare minimum like you know - to exist. He was allowed to be proud and unapologetic. An enthusiatic and unrivaled Spider-Man. And more than that he absolutely loved it, it wasn't a burden to him like to Peter, no, it was a privilege. His tragic conception at least gave him the solace to frame his responsibility as a grace - a purpose. Being Spider-Man validated him. And he found balance, an anchor, an inner symmetry. Spider front and center, one of the most balanced and goated suits ever if I dare say so.

Let's not forget he also got the blonde dyed hair makeover and artists began to draw him with a boyish prettyness that was a pretty stark contrast to his former stubbled beard and 90s mullet look that more looks like Kaine does nowadays.

like damn son look at this figure especially, no way to get more pretty boiTM he's literally blonde Ken

He dies as Spider-Man to save Peter, which is of course very noble, the ultimate sacrifice (not even talking about the insane number of personal sacrifices he enthusiastically shoulders to protect Peter and Mary Jane and everyone else).

But he is brought back. And the new Ben is tortured by his creator Jackal to clinical insanity over and over a bunch of stuff happens and we arrive in the Beyond Era in which Ben (new clone body, same consciousness as the old one - presumably but arguably not really and very very broken inside, much more so than he ever was originally) gets to be Spider-Man once more. And sure enough Beyond fucked with his memories and made him forget lots of the awful stuff he went through. But nearly not all and they also begin deleting some things he'd rather have kept... he is uprooted, decentered, crooked yet again.

The Spider clings to his heart side (how poetic), the last shield of comfort between Beyond and his fragile soul since at least it tells him what he should be, what he should live up to. But he is not the same. He doesn't even know how much he isn't. And maybe he won't ever be again. (sob)

And then we are in the current era. Let's hope the Chasm that was left behind when he lost his formative memories of decency and responsibility will be able to be mended abd turn out to be a chrysalis of sorts. (I actually love the development overall for dramatic reasons but that's another post)

(also my god his mask looks like corpse paint of smudged kajal if you will and I love that for him... love his Maleficient palette twisted wonderland looking ass. Is it me or does this design look Disney in a way? Don't even mean it in a negative way. Making him a sorcerer is so rad actually but alas I'm starting to write that other post let's keep it for later-)

[annoyingblondebracket]

Round 1 | Poll 17

~ Note: This poll is being done out of a genuine love and affection for these types of characters! Please keep that in mind when adding commentary.

Propaganda under the cut!

Hunter:

~ he was such a little shit at the beginning of season 2 and he captivated my heart

Kaoru:

~ he is so girlfail and in ! era is like will not shut up about girls and not being gay and won’t leave anzu alone but he’s my babygirl also so like…. you know. i love him i hate him . he’s so sopping wet and pathetic

~ 1. His mullet 2. Acts like the “It’s my first day at gay school, hope no one notices I’m straight” meme (yes it’s because of his internalised homophobia + conflict with his dad but still) 3. He annoys Koga and Souma with his playboy free spirited energy and likes teasing them 4. Fandom generally finds him annoying (affectionate)

~ bro is constantly just whining about how he craves the touch of a woman and doesn't like men 25/7 (i love kaoru but it's true)

[leodanbrock]

anyway my 2 cents...if you've seen any of the current discussion on twt re: discovering music through a certain national source in australia (which became hostile real fast bc a certain group of fans have absolute worms for brains stumbled upon something outside their personal bubble) i just wanna say..

community radio is infinitely better than whatever that wealthy man programming a national 'youth' station for like 30+ years has to say. far more diversity in genre and programs. some faves of mine who have played my music: 4ZZZ, 3RRR, PBS, 2SER, FBI, RTR FM (my local beloveds!!!! right now you can listen to the 3pm-5pm gender diverse showcase spanning all genres and eras) are great starting points. there's probably many more as well.

you go a long way through engaging with your local community and music scene. get out there and see someone play at a show. talk to people of different ages, backgrounds etc. can't begin to say how much i've learned talking to older punks and metalheads in my city that have given me extensive histories, let me borrow stuff they have that you cannot find anywhere online. if you can't do any of those things, that's fine too because the internet is at your fingertips now. plenty of sites, forums, reddit threads. look at what your mutuals are posting about. i use spotify blend playlists with groups of 3-4 friends, i also have that collaborator (?) feature where people can throw in songs they like onto a playlist. it's a great way to exchange music with ppl.

generally...approach things with an open mind and you'll be more than fine. you absolutely do not need to rely on something that churns out the same 5 racist upper middle class white dudes w mullets who play indistinguishable festival friendly whiny alt psych rock or whatever.

[the-angel-of-the-bottomless-pit]

if you held a gun to my head and asked me best thing about zack ward dude- .. when we're going through the 'happy marriage' pictures in the beginning... THE MULLET ERA.... DUDE MULLET....

[starlightrows]

Hello everyone! Happy Star Wars Day!

Welcome back to Krax Watches. Today we’re watching Tales of the Jedi

Episode 1 —

Ashoka’s mom is gorgeous

The baby noises are so precious oh my god stop

I don’t know why the accents threw me off a bit, but it makes sense that Ashoka might not have an accent since she was raised in the Jedi temple

This animation and imagery is beautiful

Baby Ahsoka is fully unphased by the blaster shot right by her head

Ahsoka’s mom being a hunter in their society is awesome

Pav Ti talking to baby Ahsoka like a little adult is wonderful

Pav Ti is my fucking hero. Roaring at the saber tooth tiger

Whatever those cat panda thing are, I want one

I did not except the saber toothed tiger to take baby Soka with it

How to Train Your Saber Toothed Tiger

I literally can not handle her teeny tiny little lekku and her chubby wubby cheeks and her big sparkly eyes

It’s giving Diego from Ice Age

8/10 great mini story

Episode 2 —

Dooku’s hair is… something

Starting off kinda creepy ghost town vibes huh

That was a dog. Like a regular ass dog

Yee old saloon

Young Qui Gon looks like the cave man from Ice Age… wtf

Ooh a moral quandary

Cone heads

Blue light saber Dooku, I thought for sure he’s be a green

It’s interesting to see how far back it goes, the opinion that Jedi serve the senate and not the people

Dooku fully yeeted Qui Gon, I was not expecting that

Based on Dooku’s dark brown robes, he’s in the beginning to turn to the dark side phase like Anakin

Damn I was really hoping Dooku had a last name… or a first name? Idk I wanted a full name

7/10 though provoking but I wanted a little more

Episode 3 —

It is so strange to think that Dooku and Mace had an actual friendship

Of course Mace Windu would be a stickler for the rules

I’m sure these Raxus guys are bad guys or something, but their uniforms are cool

I feel like these people definitely killed Master Katri, but like why?

Dooku is in his fuck around and find out era

Ah yes, the beloved purple light label

“I will have the truth” … and the thing from the last episode about irradiating people like the evil senator. Dooku is every bit as blunt and rash as Anakin but like way more graceful about it

Uuugh how things could have been different if Mace was more open minded about the corruption taking root in the Jedi Order

Fun to see some of our favorite Jedi again… too bad it’s at a funeral

I don’t doubt that Mace did not know he was up for Master Katri’s council seat… but also he could have had an idea that he was in consideration

8/10 I love a good murder mystery with question authority undertones

Episode 4 —

How the FUCK would you find anything in that archive

Ooooooh Master Sifo Dias … Kamino???? Deleted?

Jocasta!!!

Yaddle!!!!

LIAM NEESON

Dooku’s been warning them about coming darkness… irony is so painful

Ahhhhhh Dooku hasn’t even met his grand-padawan yet

“You’re always singing his praises”

“They grow up so fast”

Qui Gon’s like… hey I’m concerned about this. Council is like… sounds fake but okay. We’ll do “something” about it…. Corporate mentality. SMH

Oh my god… Why did I not realize when he said Sith Lord on Tatooine that this was happening right after episode one

AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH no no no no no

Dooku wanted to turn Qui Gon to the dark side

Is…. Dooku going to fight Yaddle….

Fuck this is such an ugly situation

Can you imagine if Yaddle had used The Force to yank Palpatine’s hood off and exposed him early like this

AAAAAHHHHH Yaddle is so wise. She is stepped down from the council

Oh my fucking god…….. she got smooshed!

Oh just kidding! Fuck ‘em up Yaddle!

Fuck that just hurts my heart so much

10/10 made me understand a lot about Dooku and broke my heart

Episode 5 —

All of Ahsoka’s dads in the same waiting room

Oh mullet Obi Wan, how I’ve missed you

Love this outfit, the white leggings are everything

CALEB!!!!! Dippa!!!!

I feel like Jedi are supposed to have a somewhat parental relationship with their Padawan, and Anakin goes straight to antagonistic older brother

REX! MY BOY!

How did this conversation go? Hey Rex, you and the guys wanna fire some blasters at Ahsoka for no reason? ugh… sure I guess

Fuckin Jesse “Sorry Commader!”

Honestly I feel like Anakin is just taking out some weird emotions or aggression out on Ahsoka

Okay sure you want to protect her by teaching her to protect herself, but there are almost certainly better ways to do that… like giving critique to what she’s doing or modifying the challenge with each round

Damn Rex, face shot

I swear to god if they make me watch Order 66 again

7/10 was a good episode, kind of irritated me because Anakin’s teaching style rubs me the wrong way

Episode 6 —

Not the cold open with Padme’s funeral….

NO Ahsoka was there

Sometimes I forget that Ahsoka didn’t have that many female figures in her life….

“She was my friend”

AAHHHHH the Corrie guard….. but now the Empire is in control…. This is like Bad Batch era

The Corries are like….. uh okay?

REX!!!

I love that Ahsoka did a stint as a farm hand after dropping out of Jedi school

Ooooh she used The Force…. are they gonna nark on her??

Ashla…. That’s such a pretty name

Do I smell….. a love interest???

This is… not going to go well

Ooooooh that fucking brother is a squealer

Oh my god… man fuck the Empire

Who the fuck is this?

Cowboy stand off, love it

I forgot she doesn’t have sabers anymore

Fuck that was cool!

OMG this is how she gets her white sabers!

I wonder how much time has passed?

Woooooo! REBELLION!!!

10/10 it always hurts, but like in the right way to be reminded that the Empire fucking sucks and there is always hope.

Since this was pretty short, I’m gonna watch more stuff. Might not do a reaction post though.

Happy Star Wars Day!

May the Force be with you!

[olliespoems]

The start of a new era my mullet era my mom says “Oliver are you really going to grow out a mullet” My barber excited to go on this journey with me

Ashley says “okay little billy ray calm down” Ryann said I look like a douche bag with this haircut yes I’m going to grow out a mullet and I won’t calm down and maybe a little The start of a new era my honeycomb glasses era fragile frames like me Ryann said your giving honeybee berry benson bee movie Alexa said your glowing and your voice sounds nice The start of a new poetry book the first sip of coffee in the morning you know I like coffee now that black bitter juice brings me back to reality the first line of a new poem the person you think about before you go to sleep at night all beginnings and ending off days the start of a new era

[monoman1c]

Anyways update on the life

Long ass fringe era over, “I’m borderline growing out a mullet tbh but my hair is like really short now so it’s kinda just like a typical crew cut just with a burst face” era begins

[angelsdean]

dean NEED a dangly little earring. i know it’s not practical for hunting but. he’s a bisexual w/ style ok