#SORRY THIS MEME FORMAT MAKES ME LAUGH EVERY TIME

[partiallypearl]

btw. nothing’s really as it seems. nothing but dreams. in case you didn’t know.

[king-candybug-backup]

If anybody's done this already, I'm so sorry ghfdghcjf

For randomalistic/king-crawler because its Turbo essay is basically this meme but in a 2-hour-long format, right???? (I've watched it like ten times now for writing inspo and the "It did not die in the taffy swamp." part completely DESTROYS me every time lmfao)

Also bonus doodle because the sheer shock at his non-Alan Tudyk voice in the teaser trailer also makes me laugh unreasonably hard cnjvfhcgh

[cursedcola]

Ok ok so you know the thing where it's like 'hey trust exercise' where person A runs up to person B and jumps in their arms? The one that became a meme with the hot coffee....

that. just that. Could you please write something for it using characters from twisted wonderland? Thank you!

A/N: I do know the thing lol. I think this is a super cute idea and will have some fun with it hehe...Sorry if it's not too long. I am writing this in between classes just to have a little mental break :) I also think this will work better with baby headcannons so I can do more characters. Since you did not specify any characters, I will be self indulgent. Prompt: Trust exercise! Do they catch you? Format: Baby headcannons huhuhu Characters: Everyone. Literally Everyone. I feel inspired for some reason. Warnings: None :) Tooth-ache fluff. Also not proofread. Likely grammar/spelling errors

Heartslabyul Dorm

Riddle Rosehearts

Catches you by a millisecond.

The moment he sees you running he instinctively drops the books in his hands

Yells for you to stop and puts his hands out in defense

Instinctively opens them when you jump and boom. Catch

My man has noodle arms. They instantly start to shake and you get dropped on your bum

Half-angry that you put him on the spot, and half-humiliated for dropping you. He is left shell-shocked for a moment before the fuse is lit

"What on EARTH were you thinking? Must you behave so childishly all the time?! Sometimes I wonder if you WANT me to have a heart attack....*sigh* come on. Get up. Are you injured at all?"

He thinks it's silly for you to test his 'trust,' like that. Don't do it again. Next time just talk to him.

….secretly relieved that he caught you.

Trey Clover

Arms are open before you even jump

The moment you started to speed up, he knew what would come next. It flusters him, and his ears burn but he lets you have your fun

Wraps one arm around your back and the other holds one of your legs around his waist. Nice and secure :)

Laughs a little bit before setting you down carefully

"Well, that was an excitable greeting. Maybe warn me next time, okay? What if I was holding something?"

Shakes his head in disbelief that you'd test him like this. Oh well. Its over now Best for him not to think on it.

Learns that Cater showed you the prank on Magicam, and makes his tea extra sweet. Revenge > cavities.

Cater Diamond

Does not catch you. In fact, he side-steps you.

You're quite literally sprawled on the floor and he's just standing there all smug. What? Don't even look at him like that. There's no way he could have caught you without toppling over

Cater prefers to not have a face full of dirt, thank you very much

He knows what you were trying to do, and also purposefully chose to 'fail'

"Hmm~ Now why would you use such a silly method to test me? Don't we take enough exams in class (Y/N)? You're no fair..."

Despite the taunts, he holds out a hand to help you up. He'll clean your face a bit with a handkerchief and leave a cheeky peck on your cheek before going about the rest of his day

Ace Trappola

Tries to catch you. Does not succeed.

In his defense, Ace is never on full alert. Especially during the school day.

You started running at him and he full on panicked. A genuine scream to stop tore through his throat, and he held his arms out

You, in fact, did not stop. Therefore you both fell on the ground with him on the bottom

Ace is not happy

"What is wrong with you?! If my back's broke then the medical bill is on your shoulders, not mine!"

When you explain to him, he still is pissed but does feel bad for yelling at you

"...well, whatever. You don't need some stupid test to know I'm trustworthy anyways. I prove it every day, right?"

....right? Please say yes or else he will overthink this hardcore later.

Deuce Spade

Catches you on instinct.

The moment you start running he assumes something is wrong, and opens his arms to give you a hug. When you jump? Well, that's just an extra step

His feet slide back against the ground and he wobbles for a millisecond. However, he's steady. He wraps both arms around your waist firmly, and leans back to get a look at your face.

"What's wrong?! Why are you in such a hurry?!"

His eyes flicker anxiously between the direction you came from and your face

He's relieved when you tell him that everything is okay, and that you just wanted to see if he would catch you

"Don't scare me like that! I was seriously worried!"

He's still holding you, and becomes bashful once the adrenaline dials down. He mutters a quick apology while gently setting you down. Avoiding eye-contact, he excuses himself and promises to hang out later. For now, be still his beating heart

Savanaclaw Dorm

Leona Kingscholar

Yes. You don't give him enough time to think through the situation, and so he acts. Albeit a bit roughly.

The moment you jump he's reaching with one arm, startled. It wraps around your waist and hoists you over his shoulder. The other hand reaches for his wand, and he's on high alert.

Says nothing. Just grunts upon impact and scans the area.

You'll have to pat his back a few times to be let down, and it is needless to say that he is not pleased with your joke

His eyebrows draw downward with his classic scowl, and he's lowkey disappointed in you. He thought you more straight-headed than to do something like this

"You- ugh. Whatever. I caught you, so I win, right? Happy?"

Deems scolding you more trouble than it's worth. Last thing he needs is for you to get mad at him. That'll just give him an even bigger headache.

Ruggie Bucchi

Does...not. He knows that you're coming. He heard the footsteps a mile away. He simply is a snot-nosed little arse

You're running at him from behind, and the moment you get near he steps to the side. He does his little shishishishi laugh when you face plant on the floor.

When you don't get up, he crouches down and pokes your head.

"Hey, you alright? That was a pretty harsh fall. I can't imagine what caused it,"

Laughs again, but feels a bit bad if you don't reciprocate. Okay. You got him. He's sooooooo untrustworthy. An utter fool, if you will.

With a tsk, he grabs you by the elbow and eases you up.

"Yup, yup. I'm cruel, I know. Let's go get a snack, alright? It's on me - and by me, I mean that it's on Leona shishishisi"

Jack Howl

This boulder doesn't even flinch. Like clockwork, he's startled but instinctively readies his stance. You quickly land safely in his arms, and are back on the ground in a jiffy. Almost as if you never tried to tackle him in the first place.

He holds you at arms length with an eyebrow raised.

"Uhm....are you good? What was that about?"

He doesn't understand how catching you proves that he is trustworthy, but if it makes you happy then he'll do it as often as you'd like. Just give him a heads up next time, ok?

Won't admit it, but he liked holding you. Even if it was for a fleeting moment, it felt right. If you ever asked for a piggy-back ride or to be carried, he wouldn't be opposed at all. The realization embarrasses him greatly.

Octovinelle Dorm

Azul Ashengrotto

Does not, and is extremely ashamed. He does not fail tests, academic or otherwise!

He’s not weak. This man has a very healthy diet and regularly exercises. He is confident that he would have succeeded with no issue, had you not startled him. Our little cephalopod here gets flustered very easily. Only by you though.

Normally he can hide it but you 100% startled him. Can you even judge? One moment all was peaceful and the next thing he knows you’re barreling towards him. All giddy and like “catch me, catch me!” …ugh. His heart couldn’t take it.

What’s worse is that Jade caught you in his stead. He’s appreciative that you were not harmed by his lack of reflex….but the humiliation. Dear gods.

He demands that you do it again. Leave him and then try again another time when he isn’t expecting it…which is impossible since he will be on high alert 24/7. Azul fails to understand that the purpose of the test is now null, and that it tests for impulse

“A-again! Go on. Get a running start and do it again! Into my awaiting arms!…do not argue. I will not fail this time so give me another chance,”

His ego requires it, so just do it. He can’t stand the idea of failing and that image of Jade carrying you is lingering in his mind

Floyd Leech

Catches you easily. Nothing startles this guy. Well, okay, some things do. Nothing that’s physical though.

He hears you yelling for him? Well that’s just a normal day in his life. You’re running his way”? Awwwwwwweeee his little Shrimpy is so excited to see him! That’s so rare!

He’s running to meet you half way. It nearly makes you halt but the test needs answers!

He hooks his hands under your arms mid-air, and spins you around at arms length before bringing you in for a hug. All the while he has a giant grin on his face

“Did you miss me that much??? I guess I haven’t been giving you enough attention…not that I’d mind it if you do this every day hehe~”

He doesn’t care about the test, so long as you do it again. You won’t be leaving his arms any time soon si get comfortable

Jade Leech

Another to catch you easily. He does it flawlessly, like catching a balloon or a feather

He hears your approach and chooses to ignore it until the last moment. Then he turns effortlessly to capture you bridal style, set you down, and return to what he was originally doing. If anyone’s in shock, it’s you.

Then he’ll finish up and turn to you as if nothing even happened. While his gentle smile and hand on his heart are unknowing - the smug crinkle of his eyes says otherwise. He is highly amused, not in your little stunt but in the reaction he managed to create

Caresses your face with one of his gloved hands and asks how your day has gone. Once answered, he leans down to plant a light kiss on your cheek before leaving

“Oh, I almost forgot. Please be more careful in the future. Had it not been you, I would have reacted much differently to someone ‘attacking’ fufu. I love your enthusiasm dearly, and am always happy to hold you. You need only ask,”

Scarabia Dorm

Kalim Al' Asim

Sunshine meets you half way. He sees you running at him with a mega grin and instantly knows what’s going on. Social cues be damned, he wants to be loved

More like it’s you catching him. He just can’t help himself. He jumps at you before you even get a chance to do the same.

His arms go around your shoulders in the biggest hug imaginable. He knows better than to throw his whole body weight on you, so he settles for merely hugging and swaying your body from side to side

It’s sickeningly sweet how giddy he is. He pulls you at arms length before peppering light kisses along your cheeks

“I missed you so much! Can I have another one? Please?”

Oh! A test? How fun! He’ll take this one many times if it means you’ll hug him more often. He passed? Yippieeeeeee

Jamil Viper

Catches you, begrudgingly. He’s known about the trend and was frankly expecting you to try it. He just didn’t know when.

Jamil is no fool. He could let you fall. It would be funny. Maybe even make his day.

But then you’d be upset with him. He really could do without that. Not if it could be prevented

So the moment he sees you rushing towards him, Jamil knows what to do. He quickly sets down whatever he’s doing and takes position

With an oof and a momentary scowl from discomfort, he’s got ya. One arm around you’re bum and the other your waist. You wrap both of your arms around his shoulders, and with a sigh he just lets you koala hang for a moment

“Are we done now? Not to be rude, but my arms are tired and I would prefer that we not make a spectacle of ourselves”

He asks if you had fun. You did? Well, he supposes that it can be done again. In private only though. No more pranks.

Pomefiore Dorm

Vil Schoenheit

Does not catch you on purpose, and then insists that you do it again.

You see, he did not want to encourage your childish antics, so he purposefully pretended that he was not strong enough to catch you

A lie, obviously. He is very strong despite his pretty boy exterior. Instead of calling him out for it, you play along. A mocking sigh of resignation flies out as you not so subtly comment on his lack of strength.

Oh, you're absolutely right, Vil! I'm sorry for over estimating you...hmm, perhaps I can try again with Neige-

"You will do no such thing. Now, I am going to walk away and once I turn the corner you are going to run at me. Is that clear?"

Epel Felmeir

Catches you! Listen. My boy here spent his entire childhood lugging around crates of apples, cutting down trees, and running through fields. There is no way that he lacks the stamina to catch you. Maybe he can't hold you for an extended period, but those cinnamon stick arms are built for catching

He jolts when you scream his name, and he loses his composure. The moment you jump he lets out a string of curses and drops everything to catch you

The impact sends Epel teetering, and he fall son his butt with you on top of him

"O-o-oi! What'd ya think you're doing?! I nearly split my tailbone!"

Is slightly saddened that he couldn't keep steady. If only he was stronger like the Savanaclaw students...

Rook Hunt

Catches you with grace. There isn't much to say here.

Our princely hunter need not predict your movements, or pay attention to your plotting. Where's the fun in that?

Non non, what a sight for sore eyes. Rook swoons the moment you call his name, and his pupils basically turn to hearts when he sees you running towards him

With a laugh, he opens his arms wide and catches you in an instant. He shifts you into a bridal carry, and dips you down to plant a loving hiss on your nose.

Bonus points if you kiss him back along where his freckles would be without makeup. Oh this man is dying

"Mon coheur....what a wonderful surprise! If you were to greet me like this every day for the rest of my life, I would die a happy man indeed,"

Ignihyde Dorm

Idia Shroud

Catches you

On accident :)

More like you just fall in his lap, but it still counts? Kind of

He was in his room, multitasking both controlling his floating tablet around school while also playing the latest MMO

Just when he started to wonder where you might be (normally you find his tablet during study break) he hears his door burst open

Startled, he whips around in his chair to see you running at him. He lets go of the computer mouse and keyboard on impulse. Right when you jump and basically straddle him in his chair

Idia.exe has stopped working. From the sudden entrance, to the physical contact, to your giddy rambling about...something? He can't hear past the buzzing in his ears and just nods along

Hyper aware that you are sitting in his lap still. Attempting to control himself...and failing.

"U-uhhh, can y-you please move? Like, off of me? I c-can get you a chair,"

You comply, and he calms down for a second. He's not complaining but why would you -

an internet trend? Ortho told you to?

....Idia doesn't know if he should thank his brother or scold him.

Ortho Shroud (PLATONIC!)

Little Ortho meets you half way! You do not get to jump because he sees your arms open for a hug and does not waste a moment

With you basically being one of his best friends (and hopefully second sibling. Ortho is rooting for his big bro to win your heart!) he loves your hugs

When you ruffle his hair after letting go, his eyes crinkle into the cutest little upturned crescents and he laughs

"You know...I bet brother would love one of your hugs! You should go surprise him!"

Diasomnia Dorm

Malleus Draconia

Child of man, what a wonderful surprise?

You are fulfilling this man's fantasy. You know the phrase 'looking through rose-colored class'?

You're running towards him and he's watching like it's an early 2000s AMV on Youtube

Or like a Tik Tok edit. You know the ones

Drops everything. AND I MEAN EVERYTHING

It is like this man loses all sense of his surroundings. Lovesick fool.

Opens his arms wide with a soft smile, and when you jump he barely flinches. Your arms wrap around his shoulders and legs around his waist. One of his arms holds the small of your back, and the other your rear. He...well, yes he is aware and is doing it on purpose. Our prince isn't uhm...well, he is a man. A gentlemen, but still a man nonetheless.

"What a welcome greeting. Are you comfortable? I would like to remain this way for longer, if you do not mind"

He holds you tight with his head comfortably buried in between your neck and shoulder. Malleus lightly kisses the fabric of your uniform blazer, before returning to his prior activities like nothing is amiss

Lilia Vanrouge

...I guess? It's complicated.

You come at this bat from behind in an attempt to surprise him

He's not that old, y'know. Lilia senses you trailing him the moment you begin. Then again, he always knows when you're within a five mile radius.

What? Is it really so bad for him to seek out the object of his affections? Anyone else would do the same. It's not like he's being a creep about it...you just have a unique presence.

He is also well versed in internet trends. Lilia can't help but humor you. He walks around unknowing and occasionally snickering. Some question what he finds so humorous, and he waves them off with a cheeky grin

He senses your intent to attack, and doesn't turn around when you call his name. You jump at him from behind and koala hug his back

If it weren't for the hands holding your calves, you'd think him ignorant.

'Lilia? Lilia~ Hello? Are you already deaf so soon-'

Faster than you can comprehend, he spins you around to face him and pecks your lips

"Why hello there, my dear. Care to finish that sentence?"

'....no'

Sebeck Zigvolt

Does not catch you. He initially thought you were aiming for Malleus, and stood in front of his superior to protect him

Oh he should have known! Betrayal! You have betrayed him!

...why are you calling his name? WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?

Oh seven it's one of your pranks again, isn't it? Whya re you always doing such-

When you yell for him to catch you, Sebeck does so without a second thought

but he fails. His offensive stance wasn't fit for taking the imbalance of weight, and he couldn't get a stable grip on you

Gravity pulls him forwards on a path where his weight would crush you

So Sebeck quickly wraps one of his hands around the back of your head, and flips so he takes the impact instead

"Have you gone mad?! I genuinely cannot fathom what is going on in your brain anymore. Who put you up to this? What if you had been injured? What if you injured Lord Malleus?....stop laughing and listen to me!"

Silver

Do not startle a man with a sword.

Once again, do NOT startle a man with a SWORD.

Silver catches you. Easily. He also thinks it is absolutely adorable that you trust him enough to do so.

It's just that you could have warned him. Y'know, considering that he is armed and trained to draw his weapon at the slightest sign of a threat :)

Lucky for you, Silver is high-key vigilant since he has a tendency to doze off to dreamland. He sensed your presence but couldn't pinpoint where...

Imagine his surprise when you jump down from above :) The hell do you think you are, his father?

On instinct he reaches out and catches you in a bridal carry. Your rear knocks against the sword hanging at his side, and with a grunt he places you down on the floor to check for injury

"While I love spending time with you, can you please use the door next time? For my sanity?"

[isthisselfcare]

Please forgive my absence, I log into tumblr once every 4 business months

I have answered some asks but not all, for which I apologise 

hello! rereading your work for the second time, proud of myself for translating less words than before (this british english's got hands and they kick me a lot). i keep beating myself about the question: WHAT is the clue about the mole in chapter 1? you said it was paltry, i didn't believe you, now i'm trying to make my eyes fall out over finding said clue. spare me.

It was the line about Shacklebolt’s assistant, she was grouchy about Draco for no discernable (at the time) reason: ‘Draco scheduled a visit with the Minister of Magic later that week. He sauntered past the Minister’s sour-faced assistant on the designated day, wondering who had pissed in her Pixie Puffs.’

She’s the one who would’ve heard Hermione discussing her findings with Shacklebolt early on, and subsequently learned that this Notorious Auror was going to protect her. That’s the entire not-even-clue. Rubbish, isn’t it?

Hi, since you like Jerome K Jerome, I was wondering if you've read "Two and a half men in a boat" by Nigel Williams? He basically recreated the boat trip on Thames with his friends like in Jerome's book. Nowhere near as good as the original, but it's pretty funny! He emulates Jerome's wit quite well.

I have not, but will add this to my reading list! 

Is Hermione bi in your fic?

I am congenitally unable to write cishet women, so, yes, or pan, possibly. Didn’t get into her head enough to know 

hey girlie. what does "cutty-uppy" means? i can't find the definition anywhere

Sorry. That was a made up word, referring to the sort of people who cut people up, those terrible Muggle surgeons  

do you mind if your tags are used on other fics? i think your tags on DMATMOOBIL are a creative writing piece in their own right (they make me laugh sm) so I was a bit disturbed to find fics that copy them verbatim with no credit.

I don’t mind at all, AO3 tags take on their own self-referential, memeish life and I am happy to add mine to the ecosystem. My own tags on Mortifying include the ‘no X we die like men’ and ‘what is X if not Y persevering’ meme-phrases

do you see yourself writing more dramione in the future?

I haven’t any plans to do so at present, sorry!

Continuing an investigation to see if you are actually Hermione, can you do a taraskvana?

Hah. No. I've got a dodgy knee, I can hardly even sit cross-legged!

She's a 10 but she only has 1 story posted

It’s me!

Dont know If somebody has already asked you this - would it be okay to print Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Love?

Printing for your personal use is fine

I noticed something about the Beltane chapter: "hippocampus" is a part of our brain's limbic system and one of its functions is memory formation, specifically creation  and consolidation thereof, so I thought it was very symbolic that Hermione and Draco were racing creatures  with the same name. Cause I feel like that chapter is a turning point in their relationship - Hermione stops seeing him as a barely tolerable pureblood ass. It's around that point that they really do start kind of liking each other  and start - if you will - forming new memories together! I know I'm just overthinking things, but I love dmatmoobil so much I'm constantly on the lookout for hidden meanings and symbolism.

There are a lot of easter eggs in the fic, but with this one, you have given me far too much credit. Thank you for sharing it! 

Will you be participating in the DHr advent?

Hiya, no, I had to decline as I hadn’t any writing time this autumn, honoured to have been invited, however, and eager to read the works!

Would you ever write a Tomione or a Sevmione?

I never say never, but frankly the possibility is remote. So sorry

Pain au chocolat ou chocolatine?

Scandaleux comme question, ça… pain au chocolat ! 

Re the “Marathon of chaos” on your Instagram. It’s been such a ride to not only follow your fanfic (I was an early adopter, which I know makes me sound like a hipster snob, and maybe I am one) but also watch it go from like 100 kudos to one of the top fics in the fandom. I’m here for your marathon and really grateful for all the work you put into MOBIL. Now for the question… when can we expect your next book? I don’t care if it’s Dramione, any other pairing, or any other fandom, or original fic, I WILL read it! Please continue to hit us with chaos!!!!

Thank you for your kind words! 

I haven’t got an answer on the timeline for the next piece, or whether I will link it with this online identity, but I am toying with the idea of writing it entirely in comic sans

Your Hermione was my gay awakening

If this is serious, I hope you find your own Hermione one day!

Can we please be friends? You sound like you would make a great one

Unfortunately, I am a rubbish friend who never responds to texts and cancels plans at every opportunity, you don’t want to know me 

I was so happy to see Uzbekistan mention in your story. That had never happened before. Thank you for mentioning my country 😻

You are welcome! Uzbekistan is honestly one of the most breath-taking countries I’ve ever visited – monuments that dwarf the Taj Mahal – unearthing the grand and bloody history of the Silk Road – stepping upon the same sands that the great Khans thundered across – seeing the ruins of the caravanserai – sheer magic! To say nothing of the hospitality of the people. I had far too much plov and quickly discovered my limit for vodka

You are my favorite cryptid

Cheeky. Thank you

And, finally, thank you to the person who sent me this article on a sacred relic that was stolen from an abbey and then returned ‘in an unceremonious cardboard box’! Hormone and Crotch are still at large

[diagonal-queen]

thungo thursday: how the hell did we get here so fast

'dad never even came to pick me up' SAME AYA LMAOO

they really did make the right choice for bram's va. i don't remember his name but all i know is that he's a seasoned anime va, but it like REALLY fits him fr

i'll never get over how much i love this intro you guys like it's so chaotic and colourful and dark and granrodeo is so good and this song especially is so epic and kishow supremacy

OH MY GOD watching chuuya struggle to breathe is like stressing me out so much that i need to pause and take deep breaths of my own lmao

AYO WHY DOES DAZAI LOOK LIKE A CRYPTID LMAOOOO

also i'm so jealous of him being able to cup sigma's cheek while I cannot

dazai and sigma are so weird to me as a ship because most of the ships i like are '[character that is just like me] + [character who i would have a crush on if i knew them]' but i kin both dazai and sigma so it's like watching the two opposite sides of me frolick around and it's so chaotic

sigma, literally drowning: 😰😰😰😰😰 dazai, also drowning: •-•

if i had a nickel for every time dazai stood on sigma's back/shoulders while they were breaking out of prison i'd have two nickels. which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice

(yes i know i use that meme format a lot NO I WON'T STOP)

WET CAT SIGMA (and no i didn't replay the sounds of him gasping for air, why on earth would you think that)

we have both now <3333333333 thumbs up dazai best dazai

imagine someone asks atsushi how he knew to do things or how he had the mind to move forward and he replies 'the voices' but like he's deadly serious and it actually was the voices

wait dazai literally did that to sigma in prison didn't he shfkjhdhgjkhsk

wait so in the manga sigma can read russian, but in the anime he can't? is bones actively bimbo-ifying characters??? how are we letting this slide

akutagawa doing some goku type shit is the funniest thing ever bro actually said 'SHIAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH'

bones you don't need to remind us all about how much you fucked up akutagawa's death scene ok. his dub va literally predicted that his death would be done poorly and he was RIGHT ABOUT IT

(who would win. gonta and monokuma vs dazai and akutagawa)

if dazai's got a broken leg and losing blood very quickly then why is he grunting and moaning like that huh what's that all about

YEAH GET FUCKED FYODOR LMAOOOOOOOOOOOO

fyodor: because of dazai you realised something about yourself sigma...[describes me, dia, in disturbingly accurate detail]

i'm sorry but the gay agenda has warped me into viewing a man putting a gun to the head of a man on his knees not as a serious and threatening crime but as foreplay. this is what the gays are doing to today's youth. way cup america

brams life must suck. imagine life exactly the same except you can't frolick in the sun, smell roses, wear silver jewellery, finger gun yourself in the mirror or eat garlic bread. also the 'lacking a body and personal autonomy' thing but who needs those amirite

OH MY GOD THE GIRL **WAS** BRAM'S DAUGHTER!!!!! IT WAS HIS KID THE WHOLE TIME!!!!! YOU GUYS OH MY GOD/??????!!??!!???!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i don't even feel bad for laughing when fyodor started having his mental breakdown like bro what is that face. is this what nikolai sees every night??? man no wonder he went insane

tfw they fisheye atsushi from afar while he's being stabbed in his vitals

i hope they have a stash of strepsils for atsushi's va in the recording studio

BRO WHY IS FYODOR MOANING TF

yknow that episode when teruko aged tachihara down to a child and he looked rounder and stuff? thats fyodor right now

no but actually imagine being pulled so hard that your leg and arm come off OUCHIES what is it with people and taking atsushi's body parts and like stroking them or whatever. if it were me, the only body part of atsushi's i'd be stroking is his di

fyodor you're a great character but i can't help but notice that you just stabbed my husband and then kicked him in the face. unfortunately you have no choice but for me to ruthlessly kill you dead

so much is happening rn i feel bad for the anime onlys who have to process all this shit within one episode whereas we got several chapters to soak it into our skull sponges

yeah, me too sigma. me too

LMAO DAZAI CALLED CHUUYA A BITCH????? THEY LITERALLY BICKER EVERY TIME THEY INTERACT WHY IS THIS PARTICULAR THING SO FUNNY TO ME

maybe its just cus like 'bitch' is a funny word especially. they can call each other 'ass' and 'bastard' and 'dick' all they want but nothing tops a good 'bitch!!'

hold on bones no. NO. you can't do that. dazai was shot once in the head by chuuya, then he smiles and laments before the scene ends and it's left ambiguous if he dies or not. YOU CAN'T JUST HAVE CHUUYA USING HIS CORPSE AS TARGET PRACTICE

asagiri: i wonder how i should design one order flowey from undertale: asagiri: amazing. brilliant. this will be perfect

well, fuck. im terrified for next week!!

[ashdownunderscorebeloved]

I’ve never done something like this before but I wanted to just to try my hand at it! So, my friends and I play this game where if someone says or does something really stupid or really funny, you can “copy” what they say and anytime someone tells you to “paste”, you have to do or say the thing no matter what you’re doing! We’ve gotten some pretty good things so I wanted to make little headcanon thingies for the brothers! I’m sorry this is a real big blurb thing but oh whale. Side notes; I have indeed been copied on all of these, and I’m doing this on mobile so if formatting is weird I’m sorry!

The Brothers playing “Copy, Paste”

T/W: not sure? Mild NSFW I think, mild swearing, some people don’t like it but MCYT is mentioned

Lucifer

You and Lucifer were sitting in his study, you were scrolling through Devilgram and he was doing paperwork as usual

You had just seen a wonderful meme and just had to read it to him, you had completely forgotten you had explained the rules of Copy, Paste just a few days before

“Hey Lucifer!”

“You can’t spell subtext without buttsex.”

Oh was that a mistake...

A smirk spread across his face, he set down his pen and stared at you for a moment before that dreaded word came from him. “Copy.”

Of course he would paste you one delightful evening when you were both having tea with Diavolo and Barbatos.

Tea totally came out of Diavolo’s nose when you said it

Mammon

Mammon barged into your room one day as always and the first words out of his mouth were “MC, I’m bored! Ya got any plans?”

You weren’t really doing anything so you decided to hang out with your first man

You were on your way to Majolish when he said something incredible

It would’ve been a somewhat normal sentence if he hadn’t decided to add those three words.

His D.D.D. had been going off the whole time in his back pocket and he wasn’t happy with it.

“Damn it! Knock it off, will ya? Just all buzz buzz buzz buzz. In my butt.”

The sound that left you was one of a dying cat. “Copy. Copy copy copy!”

“NO!”

You pasted him at dinner that same day, the reactions were amazing.

Leviathan

You had offhandedly mentioned to Levi that right now, Minecraft YouTubers were crazy popular in the human world so naturally he became Dream’s biggest fan

What you weren’t expecting was for him to learn. Every. Single. TommyInnit. Quote.

One day he had just watched a SleepyBoisInc compilation and he thought it was just so funny.

You had already made plans with him for that day to play Minecraft together because boy is he obsessed

It was around thirty minutes into the session and he hadn’t really said much, until he turned and looked you dead in the eye.

“Just killed a woman, feelin’ good.”

“Yup, that’s gonna be a copy from me.”

“Thanks” *deep breath* “Home home.”

You two paste each other quite often and every time he gets so flustered it’s absolutely adorable.

Satan

You’re not sure how this conversation even came about.

It started off talking about weird things humans can do and their evolution, how in the world did these words end up coming out of your mouth?

You probably ended up talking about bodily functions that humans and demons share, which was definitely as gross as it sounds.

“Ah, ass air. Gamer girls could probably sell it. Delicious bottled ass air.”

“MC...copy?”

“Oh no.”

He pastes you any chance he can get, especially if it could embarrass either you or Lucifer. You’re all out with Diavolo? Paste. You’re meeting a very important high ranking demon? Paste.

Asmodeus

Asmo had invited you to his room for a self care sleepover and as usual he went all out for you

I’m talking a complete 372629293 step skincare routine, a hot bath, massage, nails, everything

He was getting ready to put some lotion on your arms and hands but when he pressed the pump down it just shot out

You both were taken aback, and whoever possessed you in that moment must’ve thought it was real funny because you looked Asmodeus dead in the eye and said, “What a cumshot!”

“One, copy. Two, if you thought that was a good cumshot then you’re missing out.”

Asmo first pasted you in front of Mammon, just to see his reaction. Poor thing.

Beelzebub

It was time for a midnight snack with Beel, aka you talking to him while he inhaled the entire kitchen.

Beel wasn’t paying attention to the fridge, more focused on the very intense look on your face as you played a game on your DDD. You just looked so cute

His finger slid right into some custard, he pulled his finger out and turned to you.

He held his finger up to show you before cleaning licking it off. “MC. Do you like my finger?”

For some reason, that made you laugh so hard you nearly fell off the counter.

Somewhere in your laugh attack, you managed to wheeze out. “Copy, goodness gracious. Copy!”

You really only paste him when you’re alone, but just one time you pasted him in front of Lucifer who looked utterly confused. I mean...context?

Belphegor

You and Belphie were cuddling in the attic room, him half asleep and you scrolling through Devilgram.

You had just read a very sad fanfiction based on The Lord of Shadows and Henry, one that actually drove you to tears.

Belphie, being Belphie, decided he wanted attention so what’s the first thing the gremlin tries to do? Bite your hair.

“Belphie! Don’t bite my hair, I’m too sad!” You cried out, and he stopped.

He stared at you for a few moments before he spoke. “Copy.”

You were still upset when he pasted you, Beel had come up with snacks and was very confused as to why you were upset.

Maybe you should cuddle him instead of the hair biter. Love you Belphie but come on!

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.

~*~

Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good

[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years�� by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!

I would wait for a thousand years

by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)

Summary:  During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.

“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”

“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”

“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”

~*~

I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too!  [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]

every love story is a ghost story

by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Summary:  The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?

Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.

“You’re a spirit.”

The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”

(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)

~*~

Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.

see you yesterday

by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  

Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died

Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.

Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???

Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

~*~

If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt

Just as the Snow Melts

by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)

Summary:  Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.

“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.

“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”

~*~

Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree  [Oh!  I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation 

by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).

or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3

~*~

Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]

in cupped hands

by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary:  Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.

Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)

Departure in Autumn

by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)

Summary:  Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.

Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.

~*~

Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh!  This one’s in my To Read list, but  I’d forgotten about it.  Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers

by Yukirin_Snow

M, 274k, wangxian

Summary:  He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.

He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.

Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.

~*~

I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)

But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]

Bestseller

by pupeez4eva

M, 8k, wangxian

Summary:  He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.

Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.

(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).

~*~

I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead

It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it

on your marks, get set, bake!

by BlackWiresOnHerHead

G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors

Summary:  Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.

“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.

“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”

--

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

~*~

If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio

by x_los

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary:  Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

[sevlgi]

bts as roommates

requested: no

group: bts

a/n: wow me turning back to headcanons because i’m stupid :D (also i hate my formatting i’m sorry if you do too) i intended this platonically but you can take it however you want lol

~JIN~

he’s somehow always everywhere??

like, if you go to the kitchen for food, he’s snacking on something, and if you’re doing your laundry, he’s somehow passing by

likes to pop in and visit his roommates at any given second

if you’re working, he’ll come and sit in silence, but he’ll also crack jokes if you’re in the mood for it

a l w a y s   cooking for some reason and yells that he’s making food

it’s either that or an excessive amount of takeout and some bad soap opera

will send passive-aggressive texts about chores after he’s already done all of them himself

so dramatic for no reason, but very gentle and sweet most of the time

he’ll let you borrow literally anything from him and forgets that he’s given it to you

won’t watch horror movies at night

you don’t ask him to anyway, since he yells in your ear every time

goes all out for every single holiday and makes you decorate with him

~SUGA~

organized in a way that no one understands but him

yoongi will fix anything overnight if you just tell him

that also includes chores or buying groceries; things get done in the dead of night

he never turns on the light in his room, so you don’t know if he’s asleep, working, or dead

kinda creeps up behind you without meaning it and scares the shit out of you

honestly very funny and goofy when he’s feeling up to it

he bickers with you a lot, especially when you ask him to go outside and buy things

likes sarcastically commenting on the bad shows you watch, but watches them with you every single time

he never cooks for himself (survives on coffee and takeout when you aren’t home) but will make a five course meal for you

if you have to go anywhere, he’ll either drive you or walk with you with a scowl on his face

~J-HOPE~

he tries to be helpful but fails a lot

will act as a chauffer for you at any given time, or just drive you around the city playing music for fun

somehow always in a good mood? or at least, he pretends to be

announces that he’s home whenever he arrives

will cook with you for “bonding” but makes you waste time by laughing

somehow the loudest person on earth but also gets frightened by any small noise

hoseok is actually pretty neat most of the time, but he doesn’t care if you aren’t

he does chores without being asked, and will do your chores for you randomly

refuses to talk to you properly and just yells whatever he needs to tell you across the apartment

that, or he spams you with texts

unless you’re willing to cook with him, he refuses to make any food

but he has amazing taste in takeout places, so you don’t really care

~RM~

joon almost always has headphones in for some obscene reason

even if he doesn’t have headphones in, he usually doesn’t hear you yell at him

you’re always finding things he loses and you throw them at him because he won’t notice otherwise

sings very loudly whenever he thinks people aren’t home

he’s rarely home anyway, usually at the studio or something

he can’t sleep a lot of the time, and when you can’t either, you just stay up and talk about anything that comes to mind

can’t cook for his life

for safety purposes, one of you cooks while the other holds a fire hydrant

he sticks to his own room most of the time, but you can find him 

whenever you order takeout, he pays for it very sneakily

he’s very detailed with all the little gifts that you or other people get him

breaks something every three minutes but never breaks something you buy him

~JIMIN~

you forget he has his own room sometimes because he’s always wandering around

he periodically checks in on you in your own room and just kinda stands there

dance battles are a thing

whenever there’s music playing (and there usually is), you can probably find jimin dancing to it, and he’ll pull you in with him

an angel sometimes and a devil at others

he has the sweetest smile when you buy him food, but after barely a minute, he’ll be roasting the way you take selfies

likes to leave colorful sticky notes around the house with smiley faces for you

but also leaves booby traps right where you don’t expect them

insists on helping around the house, but he usually does the things that aren’t that important

pretends like he eats healthily, but any junk food left in the fridge unlabeled is immediately stolen

~V~

half the time, you have no clue what he’s doing

whatever he’s doing, he does it loudly

you never miss when he raids the fridge at midnight because taehyung has no concept of being embarrassed about it

and he blasts music at a volume that gets you the occasional noise complaint

texts you even if he’s sitting right next to you

tae changes his own profile picture on your phone and always sets it to a meme-worthy selfie

but he takes the best photos of you and is always aiming a camera at your face

usually wakes you up by flopping right onto your bed like a literal fish

sometimes you think he’s glued to the couch because he won’t move, but tae’s usually fine

randomly asks questions that send you into an existential crisis

he yells at you to come into his room, just to say “hi” or something similarly dumb

~JUNGKOOK~

clueless about the way things work for some reason

you literally have to teach him how to do his laundry twice a week

when he tries, he usually does things well

makes the prettiest decorations and can follow a recipe competently

however, he almost completely survives off of snacks, and only buys snacks when he goes grocery shopping alone

sometimes he sits in the living room on his phone for hours on end or plays games for days straight

you find him staring at nothing more often than you should

he’s very competitive when it comes to playing video games together or playing any games, really

eats at unfathomable times of day

you literally wake up to the sound of jungkook crunching on chips in the living room

basically has no concept of time, so you have to force him to eat or sleep or he won’t do it

[random-french-girl]

BroTP ask meme

Toni and Fatin 😬

Anon, I appreciate you <3

What in-jokes do they have with each other?

I kinda want them to have a fun, playful running "fight" about astrology honestly. Like Toni always makes fun of Fatin for it ("Oh, sorry, I can't go on a water run with Fatin, her moon is in gatorade right now so our energies don't match.") and Fatin constantly refers to her Aries qualities (half of which she makes up on the spot).

Are they the “I’ll pay this time if you pay next time”-type friends, or the “I’ll pay for my food and you’ll pay for yours”-type friends?

Fatin tries to pay all the time after the island, and sometimes Toni decides it's her turn to pay for their meal/drinks, but mostly she's like "Yeah, pay up, you rich motherfucker! It's called redistribution."

Who’s more prone to pranking, or otherwise messing with, the other?

I don't know if either of them is super big on pranks, but probably Toni?

How do they text/message each other? Proper punctuation and capital letters, egregious overuse of emojis, mostly in meme format…?

So. Many. Emojis.

Do they exchange jokey birthday presents, or deeply thought-out and meaningful presents? Or both?

Fatin keeps buying Toni sex toys, which is both funny and embarrassing. Shelby sends Fatin a thank-you note, and also sweetly asks her to stop, so Fatin switches to birthday cards with horrible sexual puns.

They go on a road trip together. Who drives, who picks the music, who’s in charge of snacks?

Fatin drives, because Toni technically doesn't have her driving licence. ("Technically!" she argues. "I know how to drive!" But Fatin does not budge.) They both agree on the music - Fatin leans a bit more pop, and Toni a bit more rap, but in general they enjoy the same stuff. And Fatin also puts on some classical music for Toni, who is surprised to discover she kind of likes it. Toni is in charge of snacks, which means there's not a single fruit in sight. Fatin has to make a mandatory stop to buy herself a green smoothie halfway through the road trip because she goes into avocado withdrawal. ("Californians," Toni says, shaking her head. But she tries the smoothie and has to admit it tastes good.)

What do they think of each other’s family?

They're both very protective people, so I think they both have very strong negative feelings about each other's parents and their failures... Toni is forever suspicious of Fatin's parents, even when Fatin reconciles with them, and Fatin is forever angry at Toni's mom, even after Toni reconnects with her.

Do they have any nicknames for each other?

I don't think so, actually? But I can see Fatin mockingly using pet names for Toni. Like, she calls Martha "angel" with absolute sincerity, but then she calls Toni "sweetheart" because she knows Toni hates it. Toni calls Fatin "one-percenter" when she's mocking her, and "class-traitor" as a term of affection.

Who’d be the first to try and patch things up if they had a fight?

Both? They're trying so hard to be better at apologies and anger, and they both care too much to let a fight fester. I actually think that among all the girls, Fatin and Toni, stubborn and prompt to anger as they can be, are the most mature when it comes to making amends.

One of their phones goes off in the middle of the night. Who’s calling whom, and why?

Fatin is at a party and accidentally butt-dials Toni.

What’s their favourite funny story about something that happened to the two of them?

The island :/ Specifically, the mussels incident. It's funny in retrospect.

Would they do a joint cosplay? If so, who would they dress up as?

Nope.

Do they have any TV shows that they watch together? Are there any shows they have wildly different opinions on?

They have zero shows in common...

Which one is the “fight me” friend and which one is the one who tries to keep the peace and prevent their friend from punching a total stranger?

I mean... canonically, Toni is the "fight me" friend, but tbh Fatin is ALSO the "fight me" friend? The real answer is they both try to fight people, and Dot has to stop them from punching strangers in the face.

One of them comes up with an ill-advised but mostly harmless idea. Does the other one egg them on because they think it’ll be funny, or try and talk them out of it?

Probably egg them on if it really is harmless.

Who would win if they arm-wrestled?

Toni, for sure. Basketball arms.

Who’s better at what type of video games, and how competitive are they when they play together?

I can't see Fatin playing video games, so Toni is by default better at all of them. And more competitive, even though Fatin literally does not care about winning at Mario Kart but does anyway, through sheer beginner's luck.

One of them ends up in hospital for something serious but not life-threatening. What does the other bring along when they visit in order to cheer them up?

Picturing Toni bringing Fatin the biggest bouquet of flowers she could find, and the thing is an absolute MONSTROSITY. It's HIDEOUS. Toni has never bought flowers before and has no idea what's supposed to be ~~~tasteful. But Fatin loves it, and takes great joy in watching her mom wince every time she looks at this floral abomination.

How huggy are they?

Not very physically affectionate with each other in normal times, but after serious conversations or during difficult emotional times, they'll definitely hug each other with no restraint.

What was the moment when they first realized that they’d become friends?

In canon, I think probably when they're all high. Like suddenly they're playing in the water together, and laughing, and it's like... oh, wait, we're actually friends now.

[adam-memeleri]

Dial Tone

so i finally finished weh recently and i am ✨not okay✨

BUT i couldn’t stop thinking about this ficlet and i actually really like it, so here’s some angst for this fine day (and some slight alterations to canon but whatever) excuse the poor formatting i don’t really know how to go about it for this type of thing

M Rating (mentions of death and grief, so just to be safe)

Dakota x MC (both unspecified or something idk)

~1.5k words

-

“Hey. Hi. It’s, um, it’s me.” Her voice rings soft through the phone, hesitant as she sits curled up on her bedroom floor.

“I, uh, I know you’ll never hear this but I’ve just gotta get some things... off my chest, or whatever. Just some things I’ve been wanting to tell you but, you know, can’t.

“I miss you. Like a lot. Which is probably pretty obvious, but still. Like I - I can’t stop thinking about you. You pop up wherever I go, everything just reminds me of you.

“No matter what, I just see everything you’d love or joke about or try to make the best of. Which I could use some of these days.

“And I know you’d probably tell me to move on or keep smiling or whatever, but I miss you. I already said that,” she laughs meekly. “But it’s true. I miss you, and your laugh, and your jokes, and your smile, and the way you’d just make everything feel lighter.

“Now everything’s too heavy. I keep waiting for you to text me, with a meme or a random heart or something, but there’s just... nothing.

“And then I realize you’ll never send me a heart out of nowhere just to remind me you love me again, and it feels like there’s a brick on my chest.

“So that’s why I’m calling,” she sighs heavily, the size of it sinking her shoulders. “I don’t know why, but I kept hoping I’d hear your voice as the line was ringing. You have such a nice voice, did I ever tell you that? I hope so, you deserved to hear it. My favorite part of the day used to be when I’d hear you say hi.” She laughs again, stronger now, “And my least favorite was when you said goodbye.

“I never liked goodbyes, and now they’re even worse. Every goodbye feels so massive now, you know? Like - like what if this is the last goodbye? What if one word is the last I get of someone?

“Sorry, you don’t want to hear about that. What’s something to tell you about?

“Oh, I’m going to school, just like you encouraged. I leave pretty soon, I’ve been putting it off as long as I can. Amy left for her classes already, but she calls me everyday.

“She’s just the best, always there. Even when it’s three in the morning and I need a distraction from...” she clears her throat, “yeah.

“And her and Heather are still together. They’re doing so well, I’m so happy for them. They deserve it, really. But sometimes... sometimes I put my phone on mute when she’s texting me about her and ignore it for the rest of the day. I always feel bad, but it’s just too much.

“Um, I go to the park everyday,” she abruptly switches topics, “and just hang out. Sometimes the dog park, I’ve loved that place since we first met. All the dogs are so cute and fuzzy.

“Mom says it’s good to get out, clear my head. And the flowers are pretty, so I’m not really complaining. I still go to the hospital sometimes, too. Peds is missing you, but the kids are doing well. Hope Springs is helping a lot of people too, sometimes Mrs. Batra invites me to get lunch in the cafeteria.”

Her voice tapers off for a moment. “Something else, something else,” she mumbles beneath her breath.

“Did I ever tell you what I first thought of you? I thought you were kinda annoying,” she giggles brightly, a smile alighting her features. “‘Too insistent,’ I think is what I told Amy.

“You just seemed so sure of yourself, I didn’t understand how anyone could be that confident and not be suspicious. You just knew what you wanted, and it was so obvious you would get it. I - I truly admire that now. I love that about you. To be fair, I love everything about you, but still.

“And then when you asked me to be your girlfriend, I was so surprised. When you asked me out that first time, too. Even when you said you loved me, I just... Dakota Winchester wanted me to be their girlfriend. It seemed impossible. Still does, honestly,” she turns breathless, lost in memories for a minute. “But here we are. Er... here I am.

“Um, Mateo and Lennox are doing well. They’re sweet. They keep trying to help and be there for me, but there’s not much they can do but keep themselves afloat.

“Mateo’s been sending me a random selfie every day to try and make me laugh. Today’s was him running from a store clerk with a broom. He says he’s innocent, but I don’t think I believe him.

“And Lennox... I don’t think she really knows what to do with me. She’s taken us all boxing a few times, but outside of that... She doesn’t talk much, or text unless Mateo invites her to something, but she never really talked much, I suppose.

“She, um, she bought me something. She gave it to me the day after graduation. I made a speech at graduation, actually. About you. Amy cleared it with the principal. I had butterflies the whole time,” she giggles. “If I wasn’t talking about you I probably would have run.

“But it’s a, uh, keychain,” she switches back. “It’s one of those name ones, with - with, uh... Dako-“ her voice breaks before she sucks in a deep breath. “It says Dakota. She said she thought I was lame enough to like it.” There’s a watery laugh, tears now openly streaming down her face.

“I mean, she was right. I -“ her voice cracks again, “I love it. I always carry it now, and take it out when I get stressed, or when I need to remember you.

“My mom keeps telling me I should stop remembering, ‘cause all it does is make me cry, but I’m-“ a choked sob escapes her “-I’m just so afraid of forgetting you. I can’t forget you, ever.

“I probably sound like I mess, but you’re not even listening are you, so what does it matter?” her tone darkens as she swipes beneath her eyes, harshly wiping away the tears.

“You’re not listening now, or ever again, and you’re the only one that would listen if you were here and I know you said that - that - that you are, but how am I supposed to believe that?! It’s been months and nothing’s changed and - and everyone always just stares at me when I say that, like - like-“ she cuts off.

“And - and Mateo -!” She halts, catching her breath before her voice returns, calmer, softer. “And Mateo keeps telling me that you are listening, that you wouldn’t say that unless it was true. That you’ll always be here for me, and... and I haven’t been able to decide if that’s as good as either of you made it sound. If I’m okay with you seeing me like this.

“I just know you’d hate it. You’d hate it so much, because you always hated when I was upset. I know you’d try and make me feel better and you’d have so many jokes, and then you’d put on a horror movie and get ice cream and - and -“ she stops herself for a long while, taking deep breaths to calm down and prevent sobs from fully taking over.

“I haven’t watched a horror movie since,” she finally speaks up again. “Amy invited me to the movies before she left, but I turned her down. Yours was so much better than all of them anyway, and not just ‘cause I was the star. You put so much love into it, I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ve never seen anything like you, either.

“I wish you got the chance to make so many more movies. They would have been beautiful. Scary, but beautiful.

“Everything you do is beautiful. I miss that. The beauty every day. I miss you. I know I keep saying that but... I don’t know, I can’t stop... thinking about it, all of it.”

The keychain rattles as she pulls it from her pocket, the pad of her thumb tracing over the lettering. “Dakota,” she whispers, reverently. “I looked your name up a while ago. Means ‘friend.’ I couldn’t think of anything more fitting. My Dakota, the friend to everyone.”

She sniffles, the keychain clinking again. “I, um, I should go. Lennox is taking me to meet Mateo at the diner. We get milkshakes every Saturday and I don’t want to be late. I love you. So much. And I miss you so much, too and - and bye. For now, okay? Just for now.”

The phone hangs up, and she prays it can be heard. That they were right, and Dakota really was listening. Prays that the dial tone rings on an open line.

[bi-ressler]

Coming Home [RessGale]

@skiesfallithurts requested "Coming home + RessGale" for this ask meme (still taking prompts if you want to send something in! Could take me some time though due to real life)

Title: Coming Home Relationship: Julian Gale/Donald Ressler Characters: Julian Gale, Donald Ressler, Henry Prescott (mentioned), Raymond Reddington (mentioned), others (mentioned) Words: 10.891 Setting: Post-Prescott-Arc AU Warnings: Abuse of prescription meds (aka Donnie is back on oxy and I'm not even remotely sorry), sexual assault (non-explicit, but it's being discussed), homophobia very briefly mentioned A/N: I've had this idea in my head for literal ages and thanks to the prompt I'm finally doing it! So thanks for indulging me :D Also, this got away from me (again) and turned out way (WAAAAAY) longer than it should have. Oops! - - - As always, English isn't my first language, this isn't beta'd and all mistakes are mine. Feedback is greatly appreciated :) (Also, tumblr keeps fucking up the formatting, so if the sentence breaks up in the middle of the paragraph, blame hellsite dot com.)

[Read HERE on ao3!]

__________________________________________

Falling back into old habits and unhealthy coping-mechanisms is far too easy, Donald finds. But when everything crumbles around him, and all the poorly concealed cracks and insufficiently closed gaps and holes in his armour, in his life, finally give out and leave nothing but rubble and guilt and dread, it's the only way he can think of not to fall into complete despair and drown himself in self-pity.

But maybe he's already past that point.

Maybe this is what drowning actually feels like, and there's definitely no lack of self-pity on his behalf.

So he downs the pills with a swig of beer, ignoring the fact that this feels far too familiar, far too much like coming home after a storm, soaking wet and shaking to lay down on the warm carpet and breathe for the first time.

It was all a mistake.

The last six years, it was all one big mistake and right now, he'd give everything to go back in time, erase Reddington from his mind, never join that damned taskforce that had him spiralling to this point from day one. Hell, he'd go even further, never become an agent in the first place - maybe open up a coffee shop in Detroid or become a banker or lawyer or anything at all, as long as it's as far away from Reddington and this whole mess as possible.

That way, he'd never meet Henry Prescott. He'd never murder Laurel Hitchin. He'd never let down everyone in his life, most of all himself, and Audrey would still be alive, and Julian would still be with the bureau ---

Julian.

The guilt comes back full force, because if anyone didn't deserve the fate they got, it would be Julian. Hard working, fierce, loving Julian.

He dry-swallows another pill for good measure, shoulders his go-bag and disappears down an empty alley, unseen by cameras and cops and anyone who might recognize him.

He's not sure if he can go on like this.

He's been on the run for nearly a week now; a week of hiding, paranoia, always looking over his shoulder and ducking into the shadows. Where he once felt safe when he heard the siren of a police car, he now starts running. It's exhausting and he cowers lower into the corner of the abandoned building he's staying in tonight.

Another pill. The shivers lessen. The bottle is almost empty.

He leans his head back against the cold concrete and curses his need for justice, his stupid-ass decision of accepting this life as punishment for his actions.

No, that's not right, he thinks.

If he really was after justice, he wouldn't have run. He would have faced the consequences like a man, faced jail-time and public humiliation.

Instead, he'd been crushed by his own guilt after Prescott's death, written his confession with a shakey hand and left it on his desk, before grabbing the go-bag from the trunk of his car and running.

By morning Cooper must have found it, and in the afternoon he'd seen his face on the news. He has no idea where to go from here.

He pops another pill and curses when he reminds himself to cut back and save what little of the drugs he still has left.

---

The thing about guilt is, Ressler thinks, that despite what everyone says, it doesn't lessen over the years. He still feels guilty about ruining his brother's chance of a career as a cop, and he still feels guilty about Hitchin and Wright and Prescott and every crime Reddington committed right in front of his eyes.

He still feels guilty about what happened to Julian - the first time, after that operation in Kabul went so horribly wrong and Julian took the blame for it, both of them knowing full well that Ressler had been in charge and made the decision to fire, but being stubborn enough to convince IA that it had been his fault, handing over his badge and service weapon with an unreadable look towards Don. Maybe he did it out of some twisted sense of obligation. Maybe they were just in love and compromised. But in the end Ressler's decision had cost Julian his job and a civilian his life.

And the second time, after the whole mess with Mr. Kaplan, effectively ending Julian's career as nothing more but collateral damage. He can still feel his heart crack at that look of betrayal in Julian's eyes as they stood over the remains of Mako Tanida.

---

The other thing about guilt is that Donald doesn't know how to make amends. He knows how to follow his instincts and get himself deeper into trouble, deeper into the pit of guilt, deeper into unescapable situations. Making more and more excuses, trying to cover up all of his messes with lies that lead to more excuses, more lies, more damage.

He knows it's good that he does feel guilt in the first place. But there's only so much he can take.

He thinks about everyone he has left - Reddington, Keen, Aram, Cooper, Navabi.

He could go and find Reddington, ask him to get him out of this mess he created, but he still has some dignity left (he almost laughs at that, sitting in the dirt, close, so close again to withdrawal that his chest tightens, burdened with the undignity of all the actions that led him here). So Reddington is out. He'd only get him into some deeper shit, anyway, and he can't deal with that right now.

The taskforce is out, too. They're obligated to arrest him on sight. And after doing what he did (all the dirty work for Prescott that makes him shudder and swallow back bile), he wouldn't be able to look them in the eyes. They'd know. Another thing he can't deal with.

He can't go to his family, either; getting to Detroid would be a feat in itself, but no doubt the feds are just waiting for him to make contact with his mom or brother. He doesn't want to think about them; if he just so much as imagines his mom crying over the news of her little boy's fuck-up of a life he would only break the last remains of his heart.

Sighing, he realizes he's on his own and he closes his eyes against tears that don't come. His eyes are far too dry, and yet he feels like crying; maybe he's become too numb, but not numb enough to not care. He swallows against his dry throat, his fingers flexing around the pill bottle. He's out at sea alone, the storm raging and waves threatening to bring him down, and in the darkness, there's no lighthouse in sight, not even a candle in the window of someone who might take pity on him. He's bound to drown.

---

The next day, he runs out of pills as well as luck. He hears the shouting before seeing what's going on, and he doesn't need to round the corner to know that the cops are arresting his dealer; he hears his name. They're not after the poor sod for his arsenal of prescription-meds, they're after him. He turns around and doesn't stop running until his lungs burn and his feet ache.

---

He finally collapses behind an old factory that's been out of use seemingly forever. He vaguely remembers it from a case so many years ago, when everything was still fine and he still had dreams and hopes and Reddington hadn't crossed his way yet, Julian already by his side, Prescott a name he had no business knowing.

He remembers some nondescript arms dealers hunched over their merchandise, duffels with a ton of dollar bills and a short shoot-out that ended with the perps in cuffs and a brilliant smile from Julian. Although he couldn't see his eyes behind the dark sunglasses, he knew the twinkle in them that told him everything he needed to know.

How the fuck could he fuck up something so good?

It doesn't matter now, though. He slides down the rough walls, and a shiver rips from his spine, rocking his entire body, until it gets stuck in his hands and they can't stop trembling. Every movement hurts deep in his bones, and the shaking only makes it worse until he feels sick to his stomach and feels the bile rise.

He closes his eyes, and now the tears come.

He lets all the shame and hurt and fucking guilt wash over him, drown him until he is gasping for air, remembering --- remembering all the roads he shouldn't have taken, remembering every time he allowed Prescott to shove his dick down Donald's throat, the blood of some stranger still on their hands and clothes, and Ressler can't keep it in anymore. His stomach convulses and forces its few contents out, spattering on the dirty ground, acid in his aching throat that still remembers Prescott's assaults.

He remembers Prescott's laugh and the grip of his hand leaving bruises on his arms. He remembers burying bodies of people he knew nothing about, for a man who could be his downfall with no more effort than twitching a finger.

Ironic, how that still happened and Ressler has just reached rock-bottom while still having done everything Prescott had demanded. A fucking lose-lose-situation. Ressler would like to laugh about the stupidity of it all (of himself), but it gets stuck somewhere between his chest and vocal chords. He can never go back.

He'd always thought it would be Reddington who'd ruin him. He was wrong.

---

With the onsetting darkness comes the cold; it's the end of summer and the days are warm enough, but the nights take all the warmth and replace it with cruel emptiness and too many thoughts.

He remembers all the times their hunt for Reddington had gone wrong; all the times they'd run into another dead end; all the times an informant ended up dead --- all the times he would crawl into Julian's bed or Julian in his and they'd hold each other, seek solace and comfort and hope and the strength to move on in each other's arms.

He remembers Julian's lips on his and how, for these few moments, he'd want nothing more and could forget the job. He remembers skin on heated skin, and whispered platitudes that in that moment felt like a lifeline, and falling asleep with limbs entangled, sheltering him from nightmares and fatalistic thoughts.

He misses it. Misses it more than anything else, and it's the first time he acknowledges this feeling. He'd missed Julian for years; and then he was back again, back in that ice rink, looking at him like nothing had happened, like he still didn't blame Donald for all the shit that had happened. Maybe he really didn't. Maybe the guilt for all of that had been for nothing.

And then Julian was gone again and this time it would be irreversible. Like a lost limb, he feels his absence.

Shivering, he stares at the darkness around him, and all he wants is those strong arms around him and the scent of leather and aftershave and the scratch of Julian's stubble against his own.

He can never have that again. He doesn't deserve it, and Julian sure as Hell won't forgive him. Not for ending his career and certainly not for working with Reddington and turning a blind eye to the crimes he committed under their watch. He wouldn't even want to touch him again with all the dirt and blood on his hands from working for Prescott; wouldn't want to kiss the same lips that suffered the abuse of a ruthless killer and had swallowed it like he deserved it.

Because the truth is, maybe that's what his life has become: an unescapable, unforgivable Hell, all the pictures of what he'd done burned into his brain, behind his eyelids, on his skin where the bruises have long since faded but the dirt still remains. And maybe that's exactly what he deserves.

He crumbles under his thoughts until he lies on the ground, a shivering, hurting mess that's overflowing with guilt and self-loathing.

Julian always used to kiss it away.

---

How, when and why Donald has decided to walk up that road into the woods is lost on him.

He used to know this road, been here a few times but not in several years; it seems unchanged exept for the sky that looks a bit duller. He never walked this path before, but he didn't want to steal a car. Wouldn't know where to dump it here anyway.

He knows it's probably a dumb idea, but he's out of options by this point.

Every step is hard work and his knees are about ready to give out, shaking under the strain of carrying him for miles and miles, and even in the chilly shadows of the surrounding trees he's sweating like it's a hundred degrees out. Another shiver runs through his body that feels like it's crushing every bone on its way, and he moans as he gasps for breath.

He knows though if he stops he'll never get up again. He'll never reach the old cabin in the woods by that small lake, and he'd die by the side of the small, muddy road. He's not ready for that, though.

---

It's late afternoon when he gets off the main road and takes the small footpath that leads to the cabin in a few hundred yards. The sun is much hotter now and although he can feel her warmth on his skin, he feels cold and clammy and miserable, fighting shiver after shiver and losing hard.

All he wants to do is curl up into a tight ball and die, but he's not gonna give up, not now, even though he knows that he's making a massive mistake here, but he doesn't care. It's like he's too far gone to acknowledge that fact and all his common sense has left him along with the contents of his stomach last night; he can't shove it back and, frankly, what does it matter? He can't fall any deeper.

So he stumbles on, struggling over rocks and branches, his feet numb except for the occasional flare of pain that still reaches his brain and he can't quite manage to shut out.

Then it comes into sight and he breathes out, a pained, wheezing sound that makes his head spin, and suddenly he feels sick because he knows he has made the wrong decision; he should go. He should turn around and collapse by the road and wither away like a fallen leaf.

The cabin is still like he remembers it from years ago; it belonged to Julian's father before he'd died, a nice little place far out in the woods that's perfect for a weekend-trip. Julian used to tell him stories of coming here with his dad to fish and hunt, back in the day before everything had turned to shit between them, before he came out as gay and his father stopped talking to him altogether.

He knows Julian is here; he's seen the old Ford parked by the road close to the small footpath. He also knows he's not welcome, just as he knows that he won't have anything left if Julian rejects him and throws him back onto the street he came from.

Feeling his knees wobble, he pushes on before he can give in to the seducing urge to let himself fall to the ground and curl up to die. He can still do that afterwards.

Another few steps and he's around the cabin where he can see the small lake, a pond really, with the wooden terrace right by the water; on it stands a deserted deck chair, but the bottle of beer that sits right next to it is still half-full, so Julian must be back any minute.

He leans heavily on the wall of the cabin and feels his strength bleed away. A bead of sweat runs down his forehead and along his nose as he lets his head fall, the strain in his neck too much for his muscles to hold it up anymore. Catching his breath is difficult when his lungs don't want to take in any much needed air and his chest feels too tight, like the collar of his dirty white t-shirt is strangling him, and he raises a violently shaking hand to his chest, ignoring the creaking of his joints as he does so.

Shit, this is worse than he'd thought. The hand that isn't clutching his shirt automatically wanders towards his pants pocket. It's empty. Of course it's empty. He's out of pills. He panicks at that because how in the world is he supposed to survive ---

when he hears a gun cock and forces himself to look up into Julian's face.

He looks good - always does - and his stubble is almost a beard now; his hair has grown too and Donald just wants to breathe it in. He wears sunglasses (of course, it's still bright outside and his eyes are just so damn sensitive), and his brow is deeply furrowed, his mouth a thin line that tells Donald just how welcome he is here.

"Don?", he asks, voice raspy like he hasn't spoken in a long time. Maybe he hasn't, but Ressler isn't naïve enough to blame any emotion for the roughness.

"Hey", he says, and he feels the world sway from the effort of holding himself up, so he grabs for the wall again, temporarily borrowing stability from the wooden structure. He doesn't even want to know how awful he must look, all sweaty and dirty and miserable, shaking and fighting just to keep standing.

"What do you want?", Julian asks, words hard and the gun still pointed at Ressler.

He looks at Julian, helpless to say anything, devoid of all words, and he realizes he doesn't know how to answer that question. He opens his mouth in the hopes of being able to bring out anything at all when a shudder runs through his body, leaving him breathless and on the ground. For a second all he knows is the pain of too much and too little at the same time that grinds his bones to dust and cuts through his muscles effortlessly. He thinks he groans in pain, but can't tell over the static in his ears.

"Fuck", he hears at the edge of his consciousness, "Don!"

And when he looks up, Julian is gone from where he stood before, instead there are arms steadying him from face-planting into the muddy ground. He leans heavily into those arms that promise comfort and solace and strength.

"Julian", Don rasps out, and he looks up to see Julian close, so close, worry visible even behind the sunglasses, and he has to close his eyes as a rush of emotion threatens to overcome him. This is it. This is all he wanted.

"Don't talk now, okay? I'm callin' an ambulance." And that's wrong. He can't do that, Ressler can't go to the hospital, not when he's on every wanted-list in the city ---

"Don't", he whispers and swallows against the bile. Julian looks at him like he's lost his mind, but there's still so much worry. "Don't", Donald repeats. He doesn't know how else to communicate this.

"Okay", Julian says flatly, still sceptical. "You mind tellin' me though why the fuck you're here?"

Ressler looks away, tries to ignore the black dots that creep into his vision.

"I'm sorry", he says, and he means it. Hopes that Julian understands, because Ressler doesn't know if he has the strength or the words to really explain himself here. "I didn't know where else to go."

Julian just nods, waiting for him to continue while Donald shivers in his arms and doesn't know how to go on.

"I fucked up", he finally says, and Julian laughs at that; a humorless, dry laugh that settles itself deep into what's left of Don's bones, a laugh that sends waves of guilt through his chest. He looks to the ground and tries not to break down under the weight of it.

"Yeah, you did", Julian says and there's an edge to his voice that's dangerous and hurt and speaks of everything Ressler has put him through. "And I'm really fucking close to tell you to go to Hell."

His eyes burn holes into Donald's skin until he's sure that Julian must be able to see his insides now, the rotten flesh and the dirt and the blood and all the shame and guilt he's never gonna be able to wash away.

"Not gonna do that though. Seems like you're already there."

Don lets his head fall and at this point he can't tell sweat from tears or blood or vomit or dirt; it's all there on his skin, whether remembered or real he doesn't know. All he knows is that it's disgusting, he's disgusting, he's dirty and has done unforgivable things and yet Julian is still holding him up, still touching him --- His head drops and he closes his eyes against the spinning world.

"C'mon", Julian says quietly, "let's get you cleaned up. You look like you could need a drink too, something to eat. And then you're gonna tell me what's going on before I change my mind. You alright with that?"

Donald just nods. At least he thinks he does.

He feels Julian's grip tighten, and together they manage to get Donald on his feet; he sways unsteadily, but Julian's hands are still there, grounding him against the nausea, keeping him from falling over as he clenches his eyes shut against the wave of dizziness and pain that rips through him.

"Hey, wait", he blurts out when Julian nudges him to move. "You don't - you don't have to do this, Julian. I won't blame you if -", he takes a deep breath, trying to organize his blurry thoughts, "- if you... y'know. Wanna throw me out on the street. Let me rot."

Julian looks at him long and hard, his face unreadable, and Donald wonders when that changed. He used to be able to read him flawlessly, back in the day.

"I know", he says eventually, "and believe me, I have every reason to, but... let's just get inside 'n' sort this out, yeah?"

He nods.

The inside of the cabin looks exactly the way he remembers it from the few times Julian has taken him here. Cozy and warm, soft light through the small windows, wooden table in the middle of the room - with all kinds of stuff on it, bottles and tools and newspapers - surrounded by self-made wooden chairs; it's only one room, and in the corner is still the old bed with the worn through mattress that he remembers very vividly (it's softer than it looks, the pillows under his hips fluffy, the scent of whiskey from Julian's lips and resin from all around him filling his senses ---) Julian drags him to the bed; Don is glad that Julian keeps his hands on his shoulders for a few more moments. He doesn't trust his body to sit on its own and not fall over. He takes a few deep breaths - the smell of whiskey and resin still lingers in the cabin and if he closes his eyes, he might be able to pretend nothing has happened and he's back to when all was good. He doesn't close his eyes. Needs the punishment of seeing an older version of Julian and that glimmer in his eyes that betrays the cold anger he tries to project. In here, it's easier reading him. The sunglasses have landed on the table in the mixture of things, and breathing is just that much easier now. Funny how brown eyes can have that effect on him. Or maybe it's just Julian's eyes. "You okay? Or are ya gonna topple over as soon as I let go?", Julian asks. His hands burn where they touch Ressler's shoulders - even through the shirt - and he feels like their heat is spreading all the way through his arms, mending his broken bones with a painful grip that makes him gasp. "It's alright", he says. His voice sounds strange, somehow distorted and raw, and when Julian lifts his hands it's like ice fills all the places that were on fire just seconds before, crushing him, burning even worse. He bites his lip. "'Kay", Julian murmurs, and then he turns around to get a bottle of water and --- and he opens up one of the cabinets and pulls out a small, brownish-yellow pill bottle --- his heart is beating so fast now he thinks he might throw up, and every fibre in his body screams Want! Want! Want! --- his muscles pulling on him, willing him to move, to get to the pills, down them all, swallow them, no regrets, make the trembling stop and the sweating and the shivers, undo the damage to his body, unbreak his bones, untear his sinews --- His mouth falls open. He can already feel it: the texture and the form of the little white pill against his tongue, the short moment when he swallows, the high he's chasing - no, no, it's not that anymore, it's never been that; it's always been about numbing the pain until it wasn't, until it was just about avoiding the come down. But right now he can feel the high, the anticipation, being so close to victory --- "Don?" And he wants to tell Julian to shut up, to just give him the pills, but he's the one who holds the bottle, he has the power in this moment and fuck, Ressler would do everything, anything, get on his knees or on all fours and just take it (flashes of Prescott assault his mind at that, and he gasps audibly because Julian is not Prescott, far from it, and he just wants his brain to shut the fuck up, to stop, knowing the pills will do that, they'll fucking save him from his own thoughts) --- "Hey, man - what's going on?" It's Julian's voice again, so much nearer now, burning hot hands holding him together as Donald crumbles. He collapses like a frail burning building, the last beams that were holding it together now nothing more than a pyre of grief and lost hope. He trembles against Julian's chest, his hands clinging to Julian's shirt, hurting from the exhaustion of cramping around the scratchy material but unable to let go, his head tucked under Julian's chin where he crouches in front of Donald on the floor. He wants to cry or to scream or to lash out, but all the energy he has left is unfocused, is mainly the never ending chant of Want! Want! Want! beneath his skin. "Fuck", he grinds out, and it's the hardest thing for him right

now, but he has Julian's arms around him and can feel his lips in his hair and smell leather and aftershave and --- Julian hasn't let him go yet. He hasn't pushed him away yet; is still touching him, unafraid, not yet disgusted. Then again, he doesn't know what Donald has done. "Hey, hey", Julian breathes against Ressler's temple, "it's okay, Don, it's - it's alright. It's gonna be alright..." Don shakes his head, takes a stuttering breath. "It's not, it's -", he starts, and his hands shake so hard now he's afraid of hurting Julian, "it's all gone to shit, okay? Nothing's alright, and - it's all my fault. It's all my fault, Julian, just ---" He doesn't know what he's saying, only that he needs to get it out. He needs to let Julian know how sorry he is, how much he wishes he could go back and do it all differently, how much he wants Gale to be happy. "Easy", Julian whispers, and now his hands are stroking up and down Don's spine and he feels like a child, but also safer than he has in a long time. This, right here, is his shelter in the storm, a place to wait out the worst of it before he can go home. Only that he doesn't know where home is anymore. Not that it matters. He has his self-imposed punishment to serve. They sit there for a while, until Ressler's breathing is less ragged and his body is limp with exhaustion and his hands uncramp around Julian's shirt. "You need to drink something", Julian says, his voice far too soft, and somewhere deep inside of him Ressler just wants Julian to yell at him, to beat him, to show him exactly how he's felt the last couple of years. Let out all the anger and frustration and disgust he must be feeling. Add his loathing to the pyre burning away at Donald's insides. Julian shuffles away, keeping one steadying hand on Ressler's shoulder, the other reaching for the glass of water he must have put on the ground besides him when Donald collapsed. "Here", he murmurs and holds the glass up to Don's lips. Donald doesn't even try to take it from him, his trembling hands trapped between his thighs. The water is refreshing and he's sure he could drink an entire river - his mouth and throat aren't longer as dry, his heaving stomach slowly settles, his over-heated skin seems to cool a little. When the glass is empty, Julian sets it aside and takes a hard look at Don. "Better?", he asks. Behind the hard, cold glare his gaze is so open, so vulnerable now that Don has to look away. "Yeah", he nods. "Thanks." He doesn't know where Julian has put the pill bottle, but it's probably back in the cabinet. There's no way Julian could have misinterpreted Donald's behaviour. "So." Donald looks up again. He can still feel the sweat on his forehead, on his neck, chest, everywhere, but now it's cooler, and if the temperature keeps dropping as quickly he will surely freeze to death. He doesn't know though if it's the change of seasons or his own body. "Guess I owe you an explanation", Donald murmurs. He's tired suddenly, so tired he can feel it in his bones. Like he's two hundred years old, an ancient tree about to die. "You bet your ass you do." With that Julian gets up off the ground, refills the glass, sets it on the table and sits down next to Donald on the bed. He sits further away than he used to, the gap between them like a fucking canyon that Don could throw himself in to to break every bone in his body yet again, for the last time. He won't though. He owes Julian that much. "So?", Julian asks when the silence stretches too long. But Donald doesn't know where to start, doesn't even know what to say except for I'm sorry and forgive me and I love you. He swallows, his mouth suddenly dry again, his heartbeat picking up its pace, beating uncomfortably against his too tight ribcage. "I'm sorry", he begins, and when he looks at Julian, his face is impassive and schooled. He expects more. Of course he does, Donald thinks, and he deserves it, deserves more, deserves everything. He's just not sure he can give that. "I ruined your life", he says. Looks down at his hands and how

they shake where they're trapped between his knees. "Again", he adds and the corner of his mouth twitches in a humorless attempt at a smile. "You should never have paid for what we - what I did. The whole Reddington-thing. I justified it with all the good we did, all the cases we solved, the criminals we put behind bars, but... you were right. The price was too high. It was doomed from the start... All the people who died, Julian, all those good people --- I don't know if it was worth it." He looks up into Julian's face. It's not as passive and unreadable as before; now there's a glint of pity, a tiny spark of anger, the smallest sign of resignation. "And - and to think I betrayed all my principles for that taskforce. All I ever stood for - wanted to stand for. Fuck, I'm... I just... I just wanna go back, Julian. I just wanna start over. Forget about - about Reddington and Prescott and Hitchin and - Audrey. Fuck, Audrey... I should have known then. I should have quit back then." He buries his face in his hands. There are no tears, but the shame that's crawling up his spine and spreading through every inch of his body is threatening to overwhelm him. "What happened to her?", Julian asks quietly, his voice impossibly soft. He knows about them. About their far too early engagement, about the stubbornness with which Donald had tried to love her just to get over the fact that Julian was gone from his life. About his need to prove that he was okay. "She's dead. She was killed. She'd still be alive if it wasn't for Reddington." "I'm sorry", Julian says after a moment of silence. He sounds genuine, even though Ressler knows how Julian feels about Audrey. Or used to feel, anyway. And now, Donald doesn't know what else to say. Knows there's so much, too much to talk about, but he doesn't know where to start. He wants to tell Julian about Hitchin and Prescott and those brief moments with Reddington - in the box and in a hotel room in Washington and the whole long flight from Munich back to the states. Donald takes a deep breath; it's not like that makes any difference because his lungs still seem incapable of taking in enough oxygen for him to survive. How he's still conscious, he doesn't know, but it's probably just his mind playing tricks with him. And all the while, Julian looks at him with patience that's bordering on resignation, and sadness he might be mistaking for grief about the people they could have been. The love they could have shared, the lives they could have lived. All those things Ressler never gave himself time to grieve for, but are returning with a vengeance now, cutting him up, sucking him dry, suffocating him in their thick reality. "I deserved it", he finally croaks, his voice strangled by everything he's lost, and he clears his throat. "Everything I got in the end, I deserved it." He stares at his hands that are trapped between his knees, feels them tremble, and when he looks back up at Julian, the other man is suddenly closer than he was before. The canyon between them is nothing more than a crack in the pavement now, their legs not yet touching, Julian's heat a welcome comfort against Don's clammy pale skin, and it still feels like it's not enough, like nothing he could do could ever be enough, and as much as he detests the thought that this might be the closest Julian will let himself get to Don, he also revels in the almost-touches and the dark gazes and the fact that this, too, is something he painfully deserves: the one person he never stopped loving to be entirely unreachable. He thinks back to the good times and how easy it was to just reach out and take any comfort he needed. The sleepless nights in those dingy motel rooms they spent staring out the window at the starry sky or at each other, the moments of warmth and solitude, bodies wrapped around each other like they're one, soft breath in his ear, dry lips on skin, rough fingers entangled, squeezing, comforting. Thinks back to that night in Manila, when Julian stood before Donald's door at three in the morning, dark bags under

his eyes, arms wrapped tightly around his chest to prevent him from falling apart; later it would be Don's arms holding him together. Thinks back to that morning in New York that should have been entirely unpleasant with the stink and the broken heater in the middle of January and the noise even so early, but with Julian's sleeping form next to him - so peaceful and full of beauty -, he wished it could always be like this. He doesn't think back to the time they said goodbye, or the time Julian almost died from a bullet in his stomach, or the countless times they sat at each other's hospital beds. He doesn't think about the last time they kissed, the last time they made love, the last time they hugged, the last time there wasn't this edge to Julian's voice that tells Donald that things will never be the same. He certainly doesn't think about the future. "And what is it you got? What is it you think you deserve? 'Cause I see you sitting here like, like death warmed over and I can't imagine what the Hell you could've done to deserve... well, this." Julian's voice is rougher than usual; Donald doesn't know if it's because of the emotion he swallows so successfully or because he's smoking more than he used to or because this is the first time in a long time that he's speaking to somebody. Donald draws in another sharp breath. His lungs aren't exactly cooperating, but it doesn't matter as long as he can still explain. "I think I need some air", he says, voice barely more than a whisper. He sees Julian nod out of the corner of his eye, and together they manage to walk outside. It's weird, a little, how much better he feels and how much easier it is to talk, to move, to breathe, ever since arriving in the cabin. Just a few hours ago he was almost certain he'd be dying in a ditch right about now. It's gotten dark outside; the sun hasn't disappeared fully yet, but through the trees that surround the cabin and the pond it's impossible to make out. Julian sits him down in the deck chair Donald had noticed earlier, the opened bottle of beer that's still sitting beside it now forgotten. Don takes a deep breath. It's easier now, out here. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Julian setting up a second chair next to the one Donald is sitting on. They both lean forward, elbows on their knees, Ressler's head hanging, Gale watching him with sharp eyes. Donald shakes his head; to think how easily all this could have been avoided! If he hadn't taken the job with the taskforce, none of this would have happened. Or if he'd been honest sooner, if he'd talked to Julian when the whole Mr. Kaplan-mess started instead of betraying him --- "That, right there, what you just said, is why I love you." He can still hear those words loud and clear in his head, recalling that moment with absolute clarity even if most of his other thoughts and memories are blurry from exhaustion and pain. The way they just came over Julian's lips, so simple, so easy, like they were picking up from where they'd left, still sends goosebumps over his arms and back; he remembers the painful tightening of his chest back then, and his mind going completely blank, and deciding to overplay his nerves with a lame joke and getting back to work as quickly as possible. He remembers hope bubbling up in the back of his ribcage, and laying awake that night overthinking those words. Overthinking the whole situation while pushing away his guilt. He hated lying to Julian then, and he hates where it has gotten him. He remembers cursing Julian's mind, always so quick and clever, and he remembers cursing Reddington time and time again. He purposely doesn't remember all the times he thought about the Concierge instead of Julian when he was alone in his bed. It feels like another betrayal all over again. And he remembers being on the verge of asking how much truth lay behind Julian's words more than once but always pulling back at the last second. Maybe he'll never know, now. "Don?" He remembers that he needs to talk. His mind feels almost bruised by the

onslaught of memories ever since he's seen Julian for the first time in so long. "Yeah. Sorry." He takes another deep breath, now easier out here, and leans back in his chair, tired eyes focusing on the patches of darkening skies through the crowns of the trees. A sense of tranquility fills his whole body and the shivers cease to shake him. "You were right about Mako Tanida. His head. Reddington - Reddington gave it to me as a gift." He closes his eyes for a second and sees the severed head in the box as if it happened yesterday instead of almost six years ago. He shudders and opens his eyes again, back to watching the gentle breeze shifting through the leaves and branches. He doesn't look over at Julian. "Some sort of... sick compensation for Audrey's death." He pauses at that, thinking back at Audrey and how he barely remembers her face now even though he knows he should. It gives Julian time to piece it together. He doesn't say a word though, intent on letting Donald speak. "It makes me sick now. But that's Reddington, you know? He lulls you in and there's nothing you can do about it. -- Objectively, I knew what we were doing, and I was justifying it with all the high-profile arrests we did. But... I don't know, man, he was under my skin and I only realized it when it was too late. He's like this... spider. Sucks you dry as soon as you're caught in his net. And it doesn't stop until someone worse comes along and ---" He stops speaking then, dropping his head, unable to find the words to convey Prescott's cruelty, his depravity that became Donald's own. A hand on his shoulder makes him look up; Julian is watching him, his gaze a strange mix between a cold distance and warm empathy. "What happened?", he asks. As if his hand doesn't burn Don's flesh where it touches him over his shirt, as if he doesn't know the repercussions of this gesture, as if he can't even imagine what it means to Don that he's touching him out of his own accord, not yet fleeing, not yet disgusted, but full of love and comfort and everything Donald doesn't deserve. They stay quiet for a short while, Don watching how the cold distance transforms to something new, something like pity, but not exactly. Maybe curiosity with a touch of sadness. Like he wants to hear the answer and doesn't. Like he wants to know what made Don come here but doesn't want to hear it. Like he knows it could change everything between them, all the anger he's been carrying with him since the ice rink-case melting away, leaving only the torn pieces of his old love. "Laurel Hitchin", Donald says quietly. Another shiver runs through his body as he feels Julian's hand falling away. They're silent again; Don trying to figure out how to confess a murder and all the shit that followed it, and Julian thinking about how Hitchin might as well have fired him. She may have been an awful person, but she didn't deserve to die. In Don's experience, there's no one who deserves to die; at least that used to be his opinion. He's not so sure about it now. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her. I killed her. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but that's where they stay. He can't push them over the edge, can't make his vocal chords work and his lips form the vowels and consonants. He tries in vain, again and again, until Julian is looking at him again like he knows Donald's struggle. "She's dead", Julian says, tone neutral, and Don can't read from it how much Julian knows or at least suspects. He nods. Remembers her laying on her kitchen floor, pool of blood growing larger second by sickening second. "I didn't mean to ---", he stammers, and Julian's eyes grow wide like he didn't expect this confession. "Shit", he breathes and rubs a hand over his face. It stops over his mouth and chin and he looks straight ahead into the darkness that has settled around them like their own private bubble where there's room for confessions and guilt and maybe even forgiveness; room that the bright sun of the day doesn't allow. "That's why you're such a mess? Jesus, Don,

I ---" But he doesn't continue. Donald doesn't want to hear another I'm sorry from Julian, and he doesn't want to hear that he's fucked up either. He just wants to forget. "It gets worse", he says and Julian looks up, surprise and pain and dread lining his features, and he suddenly looks much older than he is. Still beautiful, and Don has to swallow against the sudden feeling of belonging that rises in his chest; like he's home, like this has been his home all along, and it will be until they're old and grey and dying of old age in each others' arms --- only that it's a fantasy, a feverish dream he's having. Before Don can continue though, Julian stands up and disappears inside the cabin without another word. He can't blame him. With a sigh he stays where he is, watching the sky again that's now completely dark, and he doesn't know if he isn't actually watching the invisible dance of the trees. His mind is completely blank now and it's a more than welcome change. Before he knows it, Julian is back with two bottles of beer in one hand and a pack of cigarettes in the other. Wordlessly, he gives one of the already opened bottles to Don who takes it with only slightly shaking hands, then sits back down, takes a gulp of beer, puts it down on the ground beside his chair, and takes a cigarette out of the pack. He offers one to Don but he declines with a shake of his head. The small flame of the lighter makes Julian's face flicker orange and yellow, the shadows making the lines on his forehead and around his eyes and mouth dance and seem deeper than in the light of day. For the few seconds it lasts, he looks almost angelic in a rough, strange way. "I called the cleaner who used to work for her", he says before he can think about it. "His name's Henry Prescott." The smell of burnt tobacco lulls him in, like they're back in Julian's old apartment, in his bed after an evening of slow sex, bliss and heavy limbs and soft words forever interlinked with it. It almost makes the bile that's threatening to rise after the mention of Prescott's name stay down. Julian's eyes are on him again, calmer now, but also more distanced than before. Don can barely make them out through the dark of night, but from experience he knows Gale won't say any more. He needs all the facts, and Don's the only one who can provide those. He looks back to where the lake must be, now an invisible black hole between the equally black woods. He thinks it must be easy now that he's started, but the words won't come, his mind preoccupied with keeping the images at bay, the memories of dead bodies and blood and the smell of bleach and ammonia. He closes his eyes for a minute, the shivers returning, rocking his body against his will, and he's going to be sick if the stink of chemicals doesn't leave his nose soon --- He wishes Julian would touch him again, ground him somehow like he used to, but he doesn't. Don doesn't look up either. He needs to carry on. "He found out who I was", he says eventually, strangled, struggling to keep talking. "Blackmailed me into working for him." He rubs his free hand over his face, pressing down over his eyes to get rid of the images and the smell, and for a moment it's like Julian isn't even there, like he's not listening, like Don can say anything he wants to the dark emptiness he's surrounded by. He takes a few gulps of the beer but doesn't set it down. "Fuck, I --- the things I did. The shit I was forced to do and I, I didn't even fight it. I was too afraid to - I don't know, lose my job, my reputation, my friends", it breaks out of him now, and a laugh forces its way through his constricted throat at the irony of the words. He feels Julian shift next to him, reminding Don of his presence, but he doesn't turn to look at him. "I did every fucking thing he told me to. Drove around dead bodies in car trunks. Buried and unburied them. Scrubbed blood off walls and carpets and beds. --- How the fuck can anyone forgive me for that? How can you?" He takes another large sip of the beer, now risking a glance at

Julian. His cigarette has almost burnt down completely, leaving a tail of ash threatening to fall onto Julian's lap; he hasn't taken a drag since Don has started speaking. Instead he's looking at Donald, almost staring through him, and Don doesn't know what to make of that. He doesn't think he's ever seen that expression on Julian. "I should never have come", he says curtly because he can't face the silence now. "I'm sorry. I should never have -- I guess I know now that I deserved it." The calm that settles in his bones surprises him. He looks back up to the sky, clear and beautiful where it shines through the trees, and now he can make out tiny bright dots, stars spattered across it like the splashes of watercolor over paper when he was a kid. He can feel tears behind his eyes and he knows this is the last time he will be home. Knows it's the last time he gets to feel something other than guilt and dread. Maybe he should get up and leave now, having done enough damage as it is, but something inside him urges him to stay, to tell Julian the whole truth, make him understand. He needs Julian to tell him to fuck off; needs his rejection to be at peace and go home. Somewhere, anyway. "He didn't stop there", he says, and he knows it's his only chance to ever articulate it; if he doesn't say it now he'll be silent forever. Besides him, Julian tenses. He's been tense for the last couple of minutes, but now his back is straight in a way that it almost never is, but Donald needs to get those next few words out. He feels strangely detached from his body and mind and memories. "Sometimes he would force me on my knees, make me suck him off", he starts, and it's easier to say it out loud than it should be, "and sometimes he would bend me over the hood of the car or tie me to the bed post in whatever hotel he'd stay in. I took it every time. I thought I didn't have a choice." And he's smiling now, the weight on his shoulders, his lungs, his mind so much lighter, and he doesn't even mind the trembling of his hands, of his whole body. He just lets it happen. "Until my conscience finally made me put a stop to it. I arrested him. Wrote my confession. And left. But I'm still too much of a coward to face the consequences, instead I'm running from everything." He lets his head fall. This shouldn't be this easy, he tells himself, but then again, with Julian nothing is as it should be. "Swallowing one pill after the other, sleeping in the mud, always looking over my shoulder. That's no life. That's - that's Hell, Julian." Finally, he looks back at his old love, a flood of emotions racing through him like a tsunami, and he chokes out: "I deserve it. All of it. What Prescott did to me. I gotta live with it. I'm ---" But the words die on his lips as he feels Julian's arms around his neck, and hot breath against his ear, and fingers tangling in his hair. He stops breathing for a few seconds, brain catching up with the sensations, and Julian is embracing him like he knows it's the last time, or like he's sorry, or like his life depends on it. "Just so you know", Julian rasps against Don's cheek, "I really fucking want to punch you right now. I wanna - wanna throw you against the wall and just - punch you until I can't move my arm anymore. Okay? Got that?" Donald nods silently, still stunned by the sudden embrace. He didn't think Julian would ever want to touch him again, wouldn't even want to be near him again. "No one", Julian says, "No one - deserves shit like that." And then he stammers like he wants to say every word he knows at the same time while simultaneously not knowing what to say altogether, before giving up with a hissed "Fuck". Don knows this, knows that sometimes, Julian's brain is faster than his mouth, and then he stumbles over words like an excited child. "What the fuck am I supposed to do with you, huh?", he asks quietly, still not letting go, and now Don puts the bottle down and returns the embrace. Carefully, very carefully, like he might freak Julian out, like he might realize then what he's doing and

drop Donald like a hot potato. Donald shakes his head no; doesn't want to be dropped, not now, not when he's this close to Julian; shakes his head because he doesn't know what he's supposed to do now either. The idea that's been in the back of his head, whose existence he completely ignored until now, that's probably the reason he came here in the first place, creeps into his consciousness now, and his grip around Julian's ribs tightens. "I just--- wanted to apologize for everything I did to you. I ruined your career, your life. I lied to you, I betrayed you. And I'm so sorry, Julian, I'm - I'm so fucking sorry." He loosens his grip again so he can look at Julian who looks up. His eyes are wet and dark and so damn beautiful, and now they're only inches apart. He could kiss him now, ruin everything all over again for a short moment of bliss, but he doesn't. "Me too", Julian says quietly, and his voice is soft like torn velvet. "I wish you wouldn't have come here. Let me keep my anger. But I guess you have this way of making me forgive everything you do. You're impossible, Don, you know that and I, just, hate you so, so much right now, I fucking - I hate you so much ---" "I know", Don whispers against Julian's cheek as their faces are pressed together, stubble against stubble, words escaping them that neither of them hears, lips against skin, not exactly kissing, but mouthing apologies and curses that get lost in the night. "I was so angry for so long, thinking about you, and the shit you did, the - the way it had to end", Julian rasps, tension falling off his body, too tired to keep on shivering. "I kept asking myself why the fuck you'd work with him --- how you could stand looking Reddington in the eye day after day and not - not see all that he cost us. Except I realised you did see, and you just didn't care." "Julian, I ---", he interrupts, but Julian keeps talking. "And I took that as justification to curse you and to hate you, and I did, you know, I really did, but... then I realised it was Reddington and I -- I chalked you up as just another casualty, another person he ruined, because you - you might just as well have been dead, you know? I fucking buried you." Julian chokes a little at that, but his grip at the back of Don's head doesn't weaken. "I know him, Don, I, uh, I know how he is. How he will put you under his spell and pull you in and never let go. Just... Just tell me this." And he looks up again, eyes red rimmed even in the darkness, and Don wants nothing more than to kiss those tears away, but he can't. He owes Julian, and even though he doesn't know what he wants to ask, he knows he needs to give an honest answer. No more lies. No more. Julian's searching his face and seems to have found what he's been looking for when he finally speaks up again after long moments of silence. "Did you love him?" The question should surprise Donald. It doesn't. He looks down, unable to meet Julian's unrelenting gaze. Thinks back to the box and the hotel room in Washington and the flight from Munich back to the states. Slowly, without looking up, he nods. No more lies. Here it comes. "Yeah", he says quietly even though he knows Julian has seen his nod. "I did. But never like I loved you." The words just come, mindlessly spilling over his lips, and he means them; he still doesn't look up. Doesn't want to see the disgust and rejection in Julian's eyes. The moment stretches like someone stopped time, stopped the entire universe, and Donald doesn't mind one bit. If it means having this last moment with Julian, even if it's filled with uncertainty, he'll gladly spend eternity frozen in time like this. Julian's fingers are still in his hair, his gaze still focussed on Donald. He's still though, not moving, and if it wasn't for his heavy breath, Don would have thought Julian might really be frozen. Then the moment ends. "Okay", Julian says, simple but heavy, like this truth lifted some weight off of him that Donald didn't know Julian was carrying. He looks up now, unable to keep his

gaze away any longer, and he doesn't know what to make of Julian's expression. There's no disgust. There's no rejection. There's understanding and sadness locked away in the tears that are sticking to his eyelashes, shimmering in the pale light of the moon that's slowly beginning to shine through the trees. Donald doesn't understand it; Julian is supposed to be upset, angry, pushing him away, throwing him out on the street to rot --- not drawing soothing circles over the back of his head, not looking at him like that, like they can fix this, like Donald is finally home --- "I'm, uh... I'm going to the police. Tonight. I just wanted you to know that I'm sorry. My sad attempt to make things right." He has to look away again, Julian's focussed, open gaze too much for him. "Guess I couldn't... leave without having told you. And I'm - I'm not asking for forgiveness here. I know I can never have that. I just needed to see you. Make sure you're alright, so..." He clears his throat, realizing that they've only been talking about him and never once about Julian. Fuck, how egoistic can he be! "How're you doing?", he asks, and Julian is still clinging to him, just as he's clinging to Julian. "Oh, I'm fine", Julian laughs, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Julian -", Donald starts. He doesn't need his bullshit now. "Really, Don, things couldn't be better. I've read that in my horoscope." He still smiles, a little crooked like he's holding something back, something big, and now Ressler's hand comes up to cup Julian's face. Again, the thought of just kissing him comes to mind, but they're so fragile, both of them, it would only leave them shattered for good. Instead, he lets his thumb stroke the thick stubble and he doesn't say a word. Julian closes his eyes, leaning into the touch, and for a few precious moments, Donald can pretend they're happy. "Stay", Julian says and Donald freezes. Thinks he must have misheard Julian, who looks up now from where he kneels in front of Don's chair, his own hand leaving the blonde hair to rest at Don's jaw. "What?", he asks. It's more of a breath though, no sound escaping his lips. "I'm - yeah, I'm fucking pissed at you right now, but all of this... it - it doesn't change anything. Y'know, I still mean it." And they're so close still, and Donald has lost track of what's happening, and confused, he shakes his head. "What do you mean?", he asks. "Trondheim. Remember that?" He does. It was the beginning of March and so cold even the hotel room in New York with the broken heater seemed like a tropical vacation in comparison. It wasn't the first time they said I love you, but it was the first time they talked about the future. Before, they would stay in the moment, too afraid of letting go, of losing the other over naïve fantasies of a life together. That night though, they didn't need to be scared. "Whatever happens", Julian said, "I'll never walk away. How could I, huh? Guess I'm too far gone." He smiled, and so did Donald, pressing a kiss to Julian's collarbone. "Fifty years from now", Julian continued, "I'll still think of you. Every fucking day." That earned him a kiss on the lips, chaste and innocent and full of love like they've never experienced before. "Don't matter if you're still with me or not. You don't forget the love of your life, Donnie. I won't forget. Not us. Not this. Never. I could never let you go. Ever." But back then, Julian couldn't have imagined where they would end up one day. "It was different back then", Don says. Not because he doesn't want Julian's words to be true, but because he doesn't think himself worth them. "Yeah, it was", Julian answers, "but tell me you don't feel it still. Tell me, Donnie, and I'll let you go." Donald's answer is silence because, yes, of course he still feels it, that love that's deeper than any feeling he's ever known, deeper even than the shame and guilt and pain of the recent months, years, but doesn't Julian know that it's pointless? That Don's life is over? The silence stretches on and he can't hold

Julian's gaze. "I know", Julian says, "I know." And those words are enough to set him free, to liberate him from his cage of anger and self-pity and guilt and self-imposed punishment - he knows those won't go away anytime soon, but he still feels like breaking down, mercy too much to handle when he knows he's undeserving of forgiveness. He lets his head fall, knowing Julians hands are there to steady him. They do, cradling him like a newborn child, and in a way that might be true: maybe, somehow, this can be a new life, a new start for him; a clean slate. Maybe now, he can forget all of it, all the shit that happened, the person he was - the person he was forced to become --- maybe this is the one chance in life for rebirth. "I'm a mess", he says. "I know", Julian answers. "We can figure it out. Together." "You deserve better." "Shut it now, Donnie. I think I know best what I deserve, huh? I've given up everything for you, y'know, twice. You know what I think it is I deserve? Hm? What we deserve?" Donald looks up, feeling Julian's breath against his lips as much as the intensity of his gaze, those brown eyes so familiar in their depth it makes his heart ache. He wants to answer, say something, anything at all, but no words will leave his lips. He feels trapped there between Julian's closeness and the chair, but there's no place he'd rather be. He holds Julian's gaze for a few moments before shaking his head. "Peace, Donnie. I think we deserve peace after all this. Just a little, don't you think?" And that sounds good, far too good to be true, and he can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him. "Yeah", he says finally, voice constricting, "I want that. I want that, Julian." A smile is still tugging at the corners of his mouth when Julian kisses him, slow and unsure and not at all like the many kisses they used to share; it's like a first kiss, a promise for an uncertain future, a vow to try. To give it time and let wounds heal - they're all they have, after all. "You're not going to the police", Julian says as they part. "We will figure this out. Get you clean. And in fifty years we'll still be here, okay, I won't lose you again, I couldn't, couldn't bury you again, I'll ---" And as Donald kisses the doubts and fears away, for the first time in years he has the feeling that everything might turn out okay; that he might be deserving of happiness after all. That finally, finally he's home. _______________________________________

[villa-kulla]

Fic Writer Review

Tagged by @fontainebleau22, thanks for the tag, sorry for the delay!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

26 at the moment.

2. What’s your total AO3 wordcount?

722 309. I’d have thought it would be more considering how long some of mine seem to get, although looking at other people’s answers to this meme, I guess 26 isn’t really a huge number!

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

My first fic ever was a little Lord of the Rings experiment for an exchange thing. But my first proper dip into writing for a fandom would have been Breaking Bad, where I wrote for a couple of years before it felt like my ideas had run their course. Then there was a Kingsman fic, and then Mag7 where - similarly to BrBa - wrote feverishly for a couple years until it felt like the well had been plumbed. Oh yeah and then jumped into the Marvel fandom to drop one Marvel fic before immediately jumping back out lol.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

So the Marvel fic has officially just become my most kudoed fic, which is kind of hilarious considering it was a SUEZ! CANAL! FIC! But in my opinion, a good one lol. So yeah, it would be 1. The SamBucky Suez Canal fic, 2. The Kingsman soccer AU, 3. Desert Sand, 4. Chisolm’s 7, and 5. Blue Devils. That last one surprises me, but I guess it was an early one for the fandom, so I think it became an automatic read.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not

I do! It’s possible I’ve missed some here and there, but generally I try to get them all.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I don’t think any of them! While my fics definitely include angst, ideally it’s still in a fun way, or at minimum, bittersweet? I don’t generally want the last taste in a reader’s mouth to be angst. ALTHOUGH. I really really wanted to include an epilogue to the selkie fic that’s kind of angsty. Basically the story would end, but then many years later we’d see an old man get off a bus on the coastal road, carrying a suitcase. He’d be wearing a suit, clearly back from many years travelling. He’d walk to the coast, back over a hill where there’d once been a little fishing cottage, long since torn down. He’d walk down to the beach and into a little cove where he’d kneel by the water he knew better than anyone. Opening the suitcase he’d take out a box which he’d then empty into the ocean, ashes spreading across the water. He’d take out a folded bundle of cloth and wrap it around his shoulders. Then he’d dive into the water, disappearing into the waves, leaving nothing but an empty suitcase behind him, and a folded pile of clothes.

I loved that ending but I’m still not 100% sure if it was keeping in tone with the actual ending, so I left it out. Maybe one day I’ll go and add it as en extra chapter snippet.

7. Do you write crossovers? If so what’s the craziest one you’ve written?

I don’t know if I’d call them ‘crossovers’ exactly, although I did stick Goody and Billy into a Some Like it Hot ‘jazz band on a train’ situation, and I also did a Breaking Bad one that used some elements of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Those feel more like ‘AUs’ though. I like situational crossovers, but I’ve never been super into fics where characters from different fandoms actually interact.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Thankfully not. The most off-putting comment I’ve gotten was someone who - despite being very complimentary - decided to make a full-on laundry list all the anachronisms in a chapter lmao, like what. Stuff like "interesting that this character used this expression when XYZ would only been invented 10 years later!” etc. I’m positive they didn’t realize how it came off, but still, that was kind of hilarious in its.....obliviousness lol. It was special.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

I do. And I guess I’ve done the full spectrum of ‘fade to black’ to ‘describe every bead of sweat in pearlescent detail’. It really depends on what the fic calls for! I’ve done some I’m quite proud of tbh, but there are others I’d like to go back and have another stab at, just because they felt kinda cookie-cutter.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

There’ve been a couple! I can’t remember which ones specially, but I had some people asking to translate some Breaking Bad ones, and I think a Mag7 one too. I remember someone messaging to ask permission like “We love your fics in Russia!” and that was a very sweet and wild thing to hear.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, I wrote one with @yoporkchopsandwiches! Our Victorian opium dens Breaking Bad AU lol. I was just thinking of that recently actually and remembering how fun it was to read what the other wrote! We plotted out most of it together, and then took turns writing chapters or scenes. But of course while writing you come up with other details or ideas, so we’d then present the new chapter to the other with all the new bits added. And it was so fun to read what the other came up with like ‘omg no way didn’t see that coming/good idea!’ and then picking up their idea from there. In that sense it was almost like improv but for writers.

13. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

That I’ve written? I think I’ve had the most fun with Goodnight/Billy, partly for the time period, partly for the dynamic, but mostly for the plausibility. While I really enjoyed writing BrBa, it felt more like it came from enthusiasm for the show, not the central ship lol. Don’t get me wrong, the chemistry and its potential was extremely fun to write in a fic setting, but I don’t find I actually shipped it while watching the show itself. Whereas it’s been nice with Mag7 to write for a ship that’s actually....more believable lol. 

14. What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ugh I can’t beLIEVE I have an unfinished fic up on ao3 lol it haunts me. I was sure I was done with Goodnight/Billy, and then early quarantine last year I had a train robbers AU idea, so I posted a couple chapters. But I don’t think my heart was super in it, I was more just messing around with the idea. I don’t want to delete it, but I’m also not super motivated to finish it haha, but we’ll see what happens. But tbh I like the poem summary better than the fic itself:P

15. What are your writing strengths?

Plotting, keeping things moving, and making stories feel visual maybe? They’re almost all movies in my head anyways, so I think I have good instincts for ‘cinematic moments’.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I’m a little lazy, and also ‘end-product oriented’. In some ways it’s helpful to picture the whole fic before you write it, but sometimes it results in some scenes feeling slightly slapdash because I’m just trying to get them out to move onto the next. Like ‘everyone did everything I wanted to in this scene? Great, next.’ I could stand to ‘stop and smell the roses’ more while I write, and actually see what else I can do to improve a scene.

(also if I use a word once it sticks in my head I end up using it like 5 other times in a scene and don’t notice lol, I need to stop that)

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

All for it! Depends how it’s done though. I personally find long scenes of dialogue where you have to constantly jump down to the author’s notes for the translations to be distracting. I like when it’s integrated more naturally where actual translations aren’t super important. Like in River Grit, Billy overhears this little exchange between Goodnight and his childhood nanny:

“Ah c’est vrai, mon petit Bonsoir! J’en peux pas le croire!” she cried out and laughed as she embraced Goody. Billy realized with a start that he actually recognized one of the words: ‘Bonsoir’. Goodnight. (insert brief flashback of Goody teaching him the nickname) / “Ma Serafine,” Goodnight said with a laugh. “C’est vrai que tu ne vieillis pas. Tu vas me rendre jaloux, heh?” / Billy had no idea what Goodnight was saying, but he sure as hell recognized Goodnight’s tone for flattery, and it was confirmed when the old woman laughed and smacked his arm.

What they’re actually saying is: “Oh it’s true, my little Goodnight! I can’t believe it!” / “My Serafine, it’s true you never age. You’re going to make me jealous”. But it doesn’t matter because this fic is from Billy’s POV so it’s about how he experiences the language around him, which is why I wouldn’t have included a translation for the reader. If you understand it then it’s a bonus, but the words themselves aren’t really the point! 

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

That lil Lord of the Rings fic.

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Hmm for Mag7 I’ve always liked River Grit and love how it turned out. I also think Ashes feels very complete as a fic and I liked the flashback format. And while it’s not my favourite fic, in hindsight I’m impressed with the Kingsman football fic and how I had to write about 5 different soccer games and make them all feel different and exciting, and not just some variation of ‘He kicked the ball!’ I’m really pleased with how those sequences all turned out.

La fin! Not tagging anyone this time, but please feel free to do this if you see it! I love when people just take initiative to do these things without waiting for a tag (also please tag me in it if you do, ‘cause I love reading these things lol)

[tetriquinn]

Dream SMP locations/moments/characters as their respective canon Homestuck songs.

/rp /dreamsmp (based on characters, not creators)

Source: I said so.

SUPER LONG LMAO

The links go with the descriptions above them. Mobile formatting makes the list really confusing. Sorry about that.

The entire SMP. I tried to assign this to a specific event but I couldn't. Eternity is just too powerful. It literally has the best moment in all of Homestuck music history. That kind of raw energy cannot be defined by a single event. [Eternity Served Cold] Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur joining - L'Manburg War

[Sburban Jungle]

Pogtopia/Manburg War

[Welcome to the New Extreme]

The First Disc War(s, if you include the other disc-related conflicts)

[Showtime - Imp Strife]

The first half of the Final Disc War

[You Killed My Father (Prepare To Die)]

The second half of the Final Disc War

[Showtime - Piano Refrain]

The Eggpire after Tommy died (Yes I know I’ve made this joke before shut up it was my best meme)

The Banquet. Before the... y’know... murder part.

Actually no, The Banquet including the murder part.

[Pumpkin Party]

Ghostbur entering the prison

[Love You]

Revivedbur exiting the prison (er, just kinda showing up where he died I guess

[Hate You]

Manburg Festival (October 16th)

[Harlequin]

January 5th (New L'Manburg Festival + Ranboo's Panic Room)

[Dark Carnival]

The period between Tommy's death in the Prison and Tommy's revival

[Heir Of Grief]

Ranboo & Fundy's ice cream shop; Niki & Puffy's flower shop

[Moonsetter]

Revivedbur and Quackity with the burger shops

[Beatdown]

Ranboo and Tubbo with the burger shops

[Candles And Clockwork]

Jack Manifold. Just. In general. (AND NO IT’S NOT JUST A SOLLUX JOKE YEAH THAT’S RIGHT I SAW ONE OF YOU FUCKERS MEDIA SHARE THIS ONE TO HIM LAST WEEK)

[La2t Frontiier]

That little arc where Tubbo was trying to be a detective instead of mourning the violent and brutal death of his best friend

[BL1ND JUST1C3]

Doomsday

[Even In Death - T’Morra]

What? You thought I was going to say Carne Vale? You thought Doomsday was [S]: Game Over? Amateurs.

When Dream and Techno inevitably break out of the prison because let’s be real that’s happening one way or another (bonus points if Techno finds out about Dream manipulating Ranboo and goes apeshit)

[Carne Vale]

My DSMP sona when she encounters someone who manipulated the kids

Las Nevadas/ Casino Q

[Black]

The Syndicate lmfaooooooooo (I’m only half kidding here)

[I’m A Member Of The Midnight Crew but it’s the nice a capella version that everyone likes because it’s objectively the best one]

That one time Tubbo finally went to visit Tommy in exile and thought he [S] Game Over’d himself

[Flare]

The stream where they created Church Prime

[Creata]

PLEASE let Tommy just go apeshit ONE time every time he does even one SMALL THING for himself the entire fucking universe turns on him please he deserves to let it all out and kick actual fucking ASS EVEN ONE TIME COME ON

[Valor]

Tales From The SMP/ Karl in General

[Temporal Shenanigans]

Karl’s karaoke nights (yes I know this one isn’t a canon song but it’s a mix of 3 canon songs plus Space Jam okay it counts)

[Slam Jam]

Anyone remember the Karl Reef?

[Fuchsia Ruler]

Wilbur turning a drug van in the woods into an entire country

[WV: Become the Mayor of Cans]

The Dreamon Hunters, my absolute beloveds. My favorite arc on the entire SMP.

[At The Price Of Oblivion]

Tubbo sitting over the remains of his country on L’Manburgian Independance Day earlier this month (yes I’m spelling it as “Independance” because that’s what their constitution said okay it’s their fault not mine)

[Three In The Morning Aftermath]

Tommy leaving Exile (or him being revived I guess idk)

[Savior of the Waking World]

If Sapnap ever DID ANY LORE COME ON MAN YOU HAVE THE MOST POTENTIAL HERE

[Time On My Side]

The big final battle against The Egg that we never got :(

[Battle Against an Unfathomable Enemy]

Enderwalk Ranboo it’s literally perfect

[Black Rose / Green Sun]

I don’t think I even have to tell you what this is for. Look at the title. You’ll know.(Dream in the Prison in case you’re seeing this way in the future and don’t have this context)

[Constant Confinement]

Ranboo & Fundy doing dumb shit together (the good ol’ days)

[Wacky Antics]

I could use this for an actual, plot-relevant location, but no their SCUFFED-ASS NETHER IT HURTS SO BAD PLEASE SOMEONE JUST FIX IT IT’S SO GARBAGE (except for the portal hub that looks really nice)

[Underworld]

Ranboo’s lil’ Ender particles (chat) jammin to fuckin’ Cabinet Man or some shit during lore

[Arcade Thunder]

Tubbo’s execution

[Trials And Execution]

Clingyduo when they actually get to fight/hang out together canonically

[Skiain Skirmish]

Revivedbur (yes I’m serious)

[Hardchorale]

Dream XD

(I FORGOT IT HAD THE FLOWEY LAUGH AND I GOT WHIPLASH WHILE TYPING THIS DUSIGYUSIHV)

[Lordling]

Dream getting posessed by the Dreamon and having to be exorcised (yeah remember that? Probably not.)

[Sunslammer]

The Inbetween and The Other Side fighting to get Karl to listen (Another one I’m pretty sure is canon)

[Derse Dreamers]

The final battle of the SMP. It’ll happen eventually. It can’t last forever, you know

[Rex Duodecim Angelus]

This went from a shitpost to a very long, fairly accurate (and fairly full of memes) analysis help I’m so tired.

Honorable mentions that I couldn’t add because they’re technically not canon songs:

Eret all the time

[Let Me Dance, Let Me Glisten]

The Eggpire just being able to understand The Egg (I say sarcastically, as if I don’t have this song written in a fictional language memorized)

[Futma Kul Shemtor (Hymn of the Horrorterrors)]

[purlturtle]

Observances about Myka Bering

~~reblog with different formatting~~

So this was prompted by an anon asking coffeeshib this:

Prompt: Lena being an adorable nerd, writing down a list of what makes Kara happy? Or like some guide book to caring for a kryptonian

(Read coffeeshib's adorable reply here!)

Now I had to make one for Bering and Wells, too. It's nowhere near as fluffy, though. Read more below the cut.

Pete’s calls stopped coming daily about four weeks in. They dwindled to text messages, then those dropped away too. These days, it’s a meme every other week, “saw this and thought it’d get a laugh”.

Myka never replied.

Claudia didn’t start out calling daily, but she sent messages all the time, up to ten in a row, then a dozen more an hour later – until those stopped coming too, probably also because Myka never replied. She hasn’t heard from either of them for, what, two months now? Three? She doesn’t even want to take out her phone and look. But then it dings anyway, and it’s not her mother asking what she'd like for dinner, it’s not Tracy sending her an inspirational Instagram or whatever – it’s Claudia. It’s an email. With an attachment.

Um,

(it reads)

I… may or may not have been decoding the journals that You Know Who left behind? I mean they asked me to. The Regents. So. Um. If you’re wondering why I’m sending this to you and not them, uh… just open it? I’m not even sure I should send this to you but I figured you should know?

Myka I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. More than Tenth-Doctor-In-The-Rain sorry, I… look... read this when… Like when you’re by yourself okay? I mean it’s not… shit don’t get me wrong, it’s not NOT safe for work but… it’s not THAT sort of NSFW. God I have no idea how to say this. Just. Just read, okay? By yourself. And I’m sorry. Really really sorry. C PS please come back I miss you.

Myka frowns – she is at work right now, so probably not a good time. She’s always hated this kind of thing; she knows her phone will burn a hole in her pocket the rest of the day. And since this is about Helena (who else), she’s gonna be good for nothing before she reads whatever Claudia has unearthed.

She laughs and it’s a bit bitter – she isn’t too sure if Claudia should have sent this either, nor if she wants to really read it. And then she laughs another laugh, and it’s even more bitter: of course she’ll read it. She can’t not. That’s not who she is. She’s pretty sure Claudia knows that, but she can’t be angry at the kid; she’s been in situations like that before, and you’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. She’s not gonna put that on Claudia’s shoulders.

Fuck it. There hasn’t been *one* customer in today. “Dad?” she calls out towards the back of the store, grabbing her coat, “I’ve had something come up. I’m heading out. Probably won’t be back before closing.” She doesn’t ask if that’s okay. He’s done it to her often enough and never asked; she figures she’s allowed to do this too. She’s out the door before she can learn otherwise.

She drives west, to one of the trailheads – it’s Wednesday, early afternoon, overcast and gloomy and not really warm enough for a hike. But she’s got a good coat and good, sensible boots; she’ll be okay. She saves the two attachments to her phone’s SD before she sets out; reception out in the woods will be patchy, and she does *not* want to have to spend half an hour on hot coals waiting for a file to download.

She was right: no one’s on the trail but her. Fifteen minutes away from the parking lot, she finds a fallen log off the side of the path and sits down.

The first attachment is a scan; Helena’s handwriting jumps out at her. It’s meticulous, neat, but still completely illegible – code, like Claudia said. Myka doesn’t recognize a single letter or symbol, and that’s saying something. The paper is simple, white, lined – a page from a modern notebook, torn along the left edge, and creased as if it was crumpled up and then smoothened out again. The ink at the bottom of the page, where a phrase seems to repeat several times, has run along some of those creases, implying that those words were written after the crumpling and smoothing.

It seems to be a list of some kind, that’s all she can make out. The second attachment is a word document, plain text black on white, and it knocks the ground from under her.

Observances about Myka Bering

(it reads)

1 – listen. She is bursting to say what is on her mind; be that a receptive ear. 2 – touch. She relaxes when you touch her, if only subconsciously. She is too tense for her own good; if touches will remedy that, touch her, innocently, as often as you can. 3 – if that touch should turn less innocent, she does not seem completely averse to it, but proceed with caution. I should not wonder if I were the first woman to approach her so; best not to startle her away. 4 – listen some more. She carries a burden – like recognizes like, is that not true? 5 – she understands about C. It is safe to talk with her about C. 6 – she enjoys literary analysis and can speak wonderfully adroitly about characters, their motivation, their growth with nary a prompt. Listen closely when she does; what she focuses on and glosses over will tell you more about her than she will ever say out loud. 7 – carry Twizzlers for a smile, Reese’s for emergencies. Ignore the “I don’t eat sugar” you will receive, and persist in offering; she will accept after one or two repetitions and unfailingly be grateful. 8 – carry food in general (granola bars, trail mix packets) because she will forget to eat (this will benefit you both) 9 – she has a silly side. Profess to be intrigued by arcades, playgrounds, water parks; she will call it “kid stuff” but will indulge for hours 10 – anything that plays with acceleration in unexpected ways makes her whoop with surprised laughter. The grappler gun was not the exception; it is the rule. And her laughter is a thing of marvel. 11 – after she has sobered up from indulging in her silliness, never speak of it again; she is embarrassed at enjoying these things and does not take favourably to being reminded of it. 12 – also never speak of what she talks about in her sleep, not even to her. It must have been harrowing; best to let sleeping dragons lie, if you will. 13 – do not speak favorably or longingly about growing up in a bookstore. 14 – send her notes – she adores them. Using the sticky notepaper will get an extra smile. 15 – trust her integrity. You can [note: words crossed out so heavily they’re undecipherable] 16 – you knew this would happen. Trust begets trust. Do not pretend not to have known. 17 – tell her. 18 – tell her. 19 – tell her, you coward. 20 – tell her. You know it is not too late; it will only ever be too late if you do not tell her. You know that.

[Note: Oh god Myka I’m sorry. I won’t be sending this to the Regents; none of their business. I don’t know if you’re even gonna read it – maybe it's better if you don't but I mean if you’re reading this you have and oh god I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I’m so sorry. C]

[ais-for-alex]

The Scars of Our Past: Chapter 17

Did I forget to post this chapter here? Yes. Have I completely forgot which chapters have and haven’t been posted here? Also yes. Sorry I’m not super consistent on the posting here on tumblr tbh I just find it a bit obnoxious to format here so I procrastinate then forget all together. At one point in the future I’ll go through and make sure each chapter is posted and set up a mast list of each but for now it’s probably easiest to read over on ao3. Anyway! Chapter 17! Hope y’all enjoy 🥰 as always these characters belong to @lumosinlove

By the time he made it back to his motel Leo had opened and closed his messenger app at least twenty times. He opened it, typed out a message to Logan but then chickened out and deleted it. There were things that needed to be said after he and Logan had toed the point of no return together. They needed to talk, needed to stabilize the ground beneath their feet before they fell into a sinkhole of regret, but it seemed like Logan didn’t want to talk.

OLeo jiggled the key in the old frozen lock on his door until it relented opening with a click, once inside he leaned against the closed door and opened his messenger one more time.

(You): Look I know things are probably weird now, I’m so sorry I never meant for that to happen. Please know that I still want to be your friend, I know we haven’t known each other that long but Logan, you’ve become so important to me. I understand if you don’t want to talk to me anymore but please, but if you do, text me or call hell I’d settle for carrier pigeon if that’s what you want. If you don’t want to talk to me though I’ll respect that decision.

Leo pressed send before he could chicken out again and quickly put his phone on Do Not Disturb too nervous to see what or even if Logan would respond. He shuffled forward into the dark room flicking on the light switch as he passed, the fluorescent bulb flickered and buzzed, illuminating the room in a shuddering light that made Leo’s eyes hurt. The dingy wallpaper was stained yellow from the nicotine of who knows how many occupants cigarette smoke, Leo sighed again and laid back on his bed, his eyes staring at the popcorn ceiling.

See this is why you don’t get attached. This is why you weren’t supposed to let anyone else get close, because the moment you do you’re destined to lose them again.

Leo hated this place. He hated that stupid popcorn ceiling he stared at every night, he hated the yellowing walls, and the flickering lights. He hated that no matter how high he turned up the heater, his room was rarely warmer than the air outside.

He hated it. And he hated this feeling inside him. It was like ever since that night so long ago, his insides had turned into a toxic sludge that ruined everything it touched. He hated the fact that despite how much he knew he shouldn’t have let them, Finn and Logan had begun to mean so very much to him. And he was terrified that the black murky sludge inside him was going to reach up and poison the roots of them that had started growing in his heart when all he wanted was to nurture them and watch those roots take hold until his chest burst open with blooming peonies. Leo wasn’t sure if his heart could take it if instead; the roots were to simply rot away, leaving in their wake nothing but dry brittle stems ready to blow away in the wind.

Give it a chance. Baby, let yourself heal.

The only way to make the hurt a little less, is to start moving on.

Leo closed his eyes against the flickering light above him and breathed in deep then out slow and even.

It was time.

Before he could think himself out of the decision Leo pulled his phone from his pocket and opened the contacts. It didn’t escape his notice that Logan hadn’t responded to his message, but he didn’t let that stop him. He scrolled down and chuckled at the silly name now set as Finn’s contact and clicked the call button.

The phone rang and rang and then words were filling his ear before Leo even realized Finn had picked up the call.

“Hey you, I really hope you called to apologize for not reacting to the video I sent you earlier because honestly three whole minutes of watching cats being scared deserved a reaction.” Finn’s voice was warm and teasing and made Leo smile softly.

“Sorry, I hadn’t checked the group chat yet I was… in the middle of something. But now I know I have something to look forward to,” Leo replied.

“Hmm,”’ Finn hummed low like he was contemplating something but the sound pressed directly to Leo’s ear made him shiver; It felt like he was right there behind him whispering to him. “Well, I suppose I can overlook it this once. But I’m warning you I’m needy and crave validation so this is your one freebie.”

Leo chuckled at that, “Don’t worry I’ll laugh at all of your memes.”

“That makes me happy,” Finn said softly and Leo could almost hear the little smile in his voice, “so what can I do for you Leo? Since you haven’t watched the video yet and I can’t imagine you called just to listen to my dulcet voice, I assume you had something on your mind.”

“Maybe I like listening to your voice,” Leo replied before he could stop himself.

“Yeah?’ Finn asked, his voice almost breathless.

“Mmm, but you’re right I did have a reason I called.”

“Alright, shoot.”

Leo shifted on his bed, eyes roving over the dingy motel room once more solidifying his decision, “Is that offer still open? To live with you?”

There was the sound of rustling on the other end like Finn had sat up in bed to take in Leo’s question.

“I’ll pay you rent of course,” he heard a breath on the other end, Finn about to protest but Leo continued before he got the chance, “there is no way I’m not going to so don’t even try to talk me out of that.”

“Fine,” Finn conceded, “I won’t fight you on that. Honestly, I’m just really happy you decided to do it, I hate thinking of you living in that motel. I can’t imagine it’s a good place to be.”

Leo huffed a slight laugh, “you have no idea.”

“Alright then, when do you want to move in? I’ll have a new key cut for you, and I can come pick you and your stuff up from the motel if you want?”

“That would be great Fish, do you think Sunday would work?”

“Sunday is perfect.”

“Alrighty, well I guess that's it then,” Leo said softly, not entirely sure what else to say.

“I guess it is,” Finn's voice was low in his ear.

“Goodnight, then.”

“Goodnight Leo,” Leo ended the call wishing he could hear his name whispered into his ear by Finn's lips every single day.

He let his phone fall out of his hand onto the bed and sighed, and when he breathed in again for the first time in years there was a lightness in his chest that nearly made him sob in relief.

This was good. This was a step forward.

Read on ao3

Chapter 18

[purity-town]

Little late getting to these -- that's fully the fault of a class project I spent all of Monday/Tuesday and most of Wednesday working on -- but I finished my project and wrote up some long replies to these!

(Apologies for any funny formatting -- I'm trying out the beta for the new post editor!)

Absolutely not.

Nope! There are a few people who do know (other guides Andrew's met before, the Dryad, and I'd imagine the Witch Doctor knows something's up even if he doesn't know why), but none of them live in Purity Town proper, and the Dryad and Witch Doctor aren't the kind to participate in rumors or spread what isn't theirs to share. The old man is also aware just because he and Andrew have talked about their curses, but he's 1) not currently in town and 2) not going to share even if he were.

Most folks don't know much about Andrew in general; Becca probably knows the most out of the townsfolk, knowing a little bit about his family and where he's from (he has some pretty specific skills as a hunter that betray this, but he doesn't talk about his exact town of birth), but no specifics and certainly not time periods.

Andrew is good at keeping things quiet; he has to be.

I would actually appreciate if you didn't post to Pinterest -- usually I'm fine with people reposting with credit (several of the things I've posted to my DeviantArt have found their way to Instagram, for example) but Pinterest has something of a reputation for stolen art (things being reposted from another Pinterest post without credit this time, or credit being hard to view for users not logged in or just viewing through Google). So reposting elsewhere is fine (though if you repost to Reddit or Instagram, tag me at u/Ariibees or @Ariibees)! I'd just prefer my works stay off of Pinterest.

The terminology related to The Guide/Andrew/The Guardian/The World’s Core/The WoF is all confusing because on some level, they’re all the same being. Kind of like trying to talk about Jekyll and Hyde -- same guy, different looks/actions, haha.

For all intents and purposes, references to the WoF being the barrier/core/whatever behind or within which the spirits of light and dark are contained is equivalent to saying “these spirits are held trapped by the magic of the Guardian, who when summoned appears as the WoF.” I do break slightly from the official lore in how the WoF/Guardian/thing holding back these spirits works (mostly because I don’t really like the idea that the Hallow is a “temporary guardian” or whatever), but the basic concept of “these are trapped by [thing that makes up the WoF]” remains unchanged.

If “loony cultist” is a reference to something, I’m so sorry, but I’m lost on it. If you’re just talking about the lunatic cultist in a funny way, then yes, they’re in here as a very plot-significant character!

I had to google what meme you were talking about, but it did make me laugh.

Andrew’s most annoyed by the nickname because people do like to call him Guide, and for someone who’s dedicated his whole life to his role, it can get tiring. He doesn’t really *mind* being called Guide -- it’s fine, that’s what he is and as long as people are respectful of his job he’ll take what he can get -- but at the same time, he’d like for people to stop thinking “Aah! Monster!” or “Weird academic know-it-all” and just...treat him like a normal person sometimes. So he fights to be called Andrew. And...Malik comes along and gives him a nickname that he doesn’t like and doesn’t allow others to use, save for maybe a small group of people of which Malik is not a part. So, not cool, man!

People love to overcomplicate explaining shading/lighting, and if you wanted to you could certainly go on and on about reflections of light off the ground and shading colors and all sorts of things, but as I’m writing this at 1 AM I don’t really care to.

If you really want to get into shading, I see nice ones on DeviantArt or Tumblr from time to time, or you can always watch a YouTube video on it. Really, though, just keep at it, think about how the shadows should look and work, and you'll get better at it eventually and pick up new ideas on how it all works. (And this is coming from someone who is new to making comics and actually started as a painter.)

Purity Town’s shading comes down to this: simplicity. As much as I’d love to spend hours and hours redrawing the panels I don’t like and carefully shading every fold of fabric and painting detailed backgrounds, I’m a full-time college student and will be working full-time over the summer -- I don’t have the time. So, I cut corners: I reuse backgrounds or use brushes (see: bricks, trees, clouds) that make certain details easier, and I try not to obsess too much over panels I’m not fully happy with. Shadows go where they feel right, and light on the opposite side.

For shading, this comes down to making things quick and easy. For these last few pages, character shading/lighting has only been five layers. One hard light layer for the bluer soft shadows, one overlay layer for darker soft shadows, one linear burn layer for hard shadows, one soft light layer for soft lighting, and one overlay layer for hard lighting. I’ll often also make use of glow dodge layers for lighting, or change the color balance or add more hard/soft light layers if there’s a very heavy color filter on the scene (such as a celestial event, blood moon, or outdoors at night).

Using all the different layer types is essentially a cheat code to fancier lighting -- don’t want to use flat black? Boom, hard light or overlay or burn will give you colored shadows. Want to make your light brighter? Glow dodge will make it burn your retinas.

Sorry that this isn’t a very comprehensive guide, but in my mind, shading and lighting is really something that you pick up over time and it’s hard to sit down and write a guide for it without making it into a massive essay on art theory that I don't even know proper terminology for because I'm not an art student. Of course with some googling you’ll find *proper* guides for this sort of thing from art majors and the likes, and those can be super helpful and technical! But for Purity Town, I just sort of go with what feels right and what's easy to replicate.

Firstly, I’m happy to hear you’re liking the comic!

Secondly, those buttons are actually there due to the theme! (For those on mobile who can’t see it, I have the theme set to only display on desktop as I prefer the current mobile layout on phone.) I’m using the simple webcomic theme (a quick Google should tell you how to install it for yourself) -- except I’m not actually using it for the webcomic features; rather, it’s a case of “this is the most simple, nice-looking non-default theme I could find.”

The previous/next buttons are added by the theme with the intent that the blog is being used as a typical webcomic website, with nothing but comic pages being posted. However, I post asks and other art here too, and I do so with the intent that people looking at #Terraria or their dashboards in general will see it. So...I use html formatting to make the first/previous/next/last links, along with an index and chapter-by-chapter viewing (using /tagged/chapter##/chrono) so that no matter where you’re coming from, you can still navigate just the pages!

If you want to add just the previous/next buttons, I can’t really help you -- web development is not my area of study in the slightest. But you can check out the theme that they come from and if you want to install only them, you can surely find a tutorial on it somewhere!

(As a side note, the comments section is not from the theme, it’s from a site called Disqus. I don’t expect many people, if anyone, to leave comments, but since I link back to this site a lot and many folks don’t have Tumblr accounts, it’s an option I like to make available.)

Hiya! My hike was pretty nice; it was a short and easy one, but that was quite appreciated as the trail is unmaintained from November to April, and the trail was covered in fallen trees and quite rocky. Still had fun, though!

And for backgrounds, it depends! For indoors scenes (or outdoors scenes with buildings) I don’t tend to use references, outside of looking up things like “which side of a door is the handle on.” I will, however, integrate real-life textures (see: the quilt and rug in Guide’s house, the wood walls on the building in the background of this week’s page), and paint over paintings from the Terraria wiki.

For outdoors scenes, for simple backgrounds (such as foliage-heavy) ones, I typically don’t need references. I like the difference between detailed, lined indoor/man-made object scenes vs. painted, messy outdoor scenes. But for things like mountains, I do sometimes look up references to help with color choices and the likes.

The town’s layout is a bit strange in that depending on the scene, the background could be drastically different. One side of town faces more mountainside, one side faces the orchards/open hillside, and the other two sides face various degrees of open space and more mountainside/forest. References taken on top of mountains are helpful to get an idea of what degree of foliage I should include between the characters and the sky.

Though this is very specific to the town of Purity -- other towns/villages will have significantly different-looking backgrounds, even the foliage-heavy ones.

That said, what's even more helpful than looking at photos is looking at paintings. Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron is really good for getting an idea of how to draw grasslands and distant mountains, plus Studio Ghibli movies in general!