#Was gonna ramble but you guys don’t care about my tagging nonsense

[vampthropologist]

Oh look a profile pic that's not Robofizzarolli

[fivelakesinwriting]

can i request a jj or pope fic (if that’s what you’d call it), where the reader is suffering period cramps and other symptoms, and he comes to take care of her? probably a lot of fluff between them??

Author's Notes: Not enough love for our boy Pope, so I chose him! He would be the sweetest boyfriend, I think.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, Swearing, Mentions of blood (it's about periods, y'all) - Otherwise, fluff!

Requested? YES! Requests for OBX are OPEN!

*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo

Pope was so excited that it was the weekend. He had no extracurricular activities that day, and his only plans were to go out on the HMS Pogue with his friends and his new girlfriend. He woke up and was greeted by the sunniest Saturday morning he had seen in the long time and it was as if the stress and anxiety was lifted off of him.

He smiled to himself as he grabbed his phone off of his desk and checked his messages.

I can't come out today :(

Pope read the text message from his new girlfriend, they had only been official for about two months, and his heart sank. He let out a heavy sigh as he typed back a quick reply and changed into his clothes for the boat.

Pope couldn't keep the frown off of his face as he rode his bike to The Chateau. He had been looking forward to this Saturday on the water with the Pogues and his girlfriend all week. Sun, water and a pretty girl in a (hopefully) small swimsuit was just what he needed to get his mind off all this Royal Merchant and Denmark Tanny nonsense.

He hopped off his bike, letting it fall to the ground in the drive of The Chateau then stalked up towards the open door of the front porch.

"Whoa. Easy, Big Guy. Gonna break my door. You look like someone broke your project for the Science Fair." John B mumbled as he pulled on a t-shirt he grabbed from the back of the old couch.

"She's not coming." Pope grumbled as he sat down on the couch beside Kiara as she finished packing the cooler.

"What do you mean she's not coming? We've had this planned since like, last week. Stoked to finally meet your girl, man." JJ mumbled as he finished pinching the last bit of weed into the rolling paper.

"Says that she can't come out today because 'it has been a red dawn'. Whatever that means." Pope sighed as he turned his phone over in his hand, resting his head back on the couch.

Kiara burst out laughing, her hand over her mouth as she kept her eyes fixed on the cooler at her feet.

"What? Why is that funny?" Pope asked as he lifted his head up from the couch to look between his friends.

"She has her period, Pope. She doesn't want to come out because she has her period and is probably embarrassed to be around you and boys she doesn't know." Kiara replied as she looked over at the Heyward boy who still looked confused.

"Red Dawn, now that was a good movie." JJ stated as he put the freshly rolled joint behind his ear, and stood up.

"JJ." Both Kiara and Pope sighed as they looked over at the blonde boy.

"I'm just saying." JJ smirked as he adjusted his red hat on his head, then stood up and made his way over to the small television set on the other side of the room, crouched down and began to rummage through the small cabinet beneath.

"Well, I guess I'll just for two weeks after exams and prep classes are over. It just sucks because this was like, the one weekend she and I both had." Pope muttered as he rested his head back on the couch.

"Who says that you can't see her?" Kiara asked with a furrowed brow.

"Well..I just figured she'd want to be alone." Pope stammered.

"She's not a leper, Pope. And even if she were, she's your girlfriend." Kiara rolled her eyes as she swatted her friend's chest.

"Hate to admit it, but she's right. Take this and go see your girl instead. Boat will still here next weekend." JJ grinned as he walked over to Pope and handed him a dusty DVD.

"Red Dawn? JJ, I can't bring this." Pope held the DVD up to show the title back to the grinning Maybank boy, and shook his head.

"C'mon. She'll think it's funny." JJ laughed with a pat of Pope's shoulder before he made his way down the hall of The Chateau.

"Don't bring that." Kiara muttered under her breath.

"I'm not." Pope replied.

*

By the time Pope got to her house, still on The Cut, it was mid- morning and the sun was blazing hot. He dropped his bike in the empty driveway and wiped his brow with the hem of his shirt. He walked up the steps to the front door and knocked lightly.

"Pope?" She opened the door and greeted him in baggy sweat pants and an oversized sweater.

"Hi. I know you said that you didn't want to come out today, but I thought...well, Kiara thought..that you might want some company. And I thought that, too. But I didn't want to overstep and invade your space. But I guess I'm here now." Pope rambled as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other on the front step.

"No, it's okay. Pope, I'm really glad you came over. Come inside." She smiled softly as she took hold of his hand, lacing their fingers and pulled him inside the house, towards her bedroom.

"I was just going to watch a movie." She smiled as she sat on the edge of her bed and looked up at him as he stood awkwardly in the doorway of her bedroom.

"That's perfect. I actually brought you some snacks. I wasn't sure what you might be craving, I know you always flip flop between chocolate or candy. So I brought you both." Pope smiled softly as he walked slowly to the edge of the bed and sat next to her, pulling his backpack off his shoulders.

Pope opened up his backpack and pulled out one bag of Skittles and another bag of M&M's, passing them to her.

"You're the sweetest boyfriend, ever." She smiled as she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"I do request I get at least a handful of the Skittles, though." Pope blushed as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"I can do that. Hey, what's that? You brought a movie?" She smiled as she pointed the the DVD that sat at the bottom of his bag.

"What? No, I didn't...damnit, JJ." Pope sighed as he rubbed his forehead.

She smirked and reached into the bag before he grab her hand to stop her. She looked at the DVD with a smile and read the bright yellow Post-It note on the front. JJ's unmistakable printing on the note.

IT WILL BE FUNNY.

"I'm so sorry. That was JJ's idea of a joke. He wanted me to bring this movie because of your text.." Pope sighed as he reached for the DVD.

"You don't want to show me the movie?" She giggled as she held the movie out of his reach.

"If you want to watch it, sure." Pope nodded with a sigh of relief. For once JJ's antics hadn't gotten him kicked in the ass. Especially with a girl he liked.

"Pop it in the player, it's over there." She giggled as she pointed the small television across her bedroom.

Pope smiled and did as was requested of him, putting the DVD in the old player. He grabbed the remote and walked back over the bed and laid with her as she already opened the bag of Skittles.

"Pope?" She asked softly as he settled against the headboard and fast forwarded through all the trailers and advertisements he didn't care about.

"Yeah?" He looked down at her, and he felt his heartbeat start to quicken. She was so pretty, and she liked him.

"Do you think you could rub my belly for a little bit? I have cramps, and they suck." She whispered as she rested her forehead on his shoulder.

"Really?" Pope asked as he slid his back down the headboard to be closer to her on the mattress.

"Yeah. Your hands are always so warm and soft." She nodded as she rested against him, her head on his shoulder as she watched the television.

"Sure." Pope smiled as he slowly, tentatively, reached beneath his shirt and pressed the palm of his hand just beneath her belly button and softly rubbed back and forth. He kissed the top of her head as she nestled into him even more.

"Thanks for staying behind from the boat to keep me company, Pope." She whispered against his neck.

"No need to thank me. I think I like this better." Pope replied softly.

"I don't know why JJ said we should watch this movie, though. There's minimal blood. Should have watched Carrie or something." She smiled as she looked up at his face.

"You're so weird. And I'm not watching Carrie again. Watched it once in the 8th grade because JJ made me, and I'm not doing it again." Pope laughed, his hand still running across the warm skin of her stomach just under her belly button.

"Oh, no. Poor little Pope." She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his midsection and pulled him close.

"Yeah, so if you want to watch horror movies you'll probably have to ask JJ." Pope replied as he kissed the top of her head.

"I will protect you, Pope." She whispered against his chest and held him tightly.

Pope felt content in that small bedroom with his girlfriend, the fan blowing straight on them as they watched that stupid movie JJ must has shoved in his backpack when he walked out the living room earlier. He supposed he owed him a thank you.

Maybe.

Hottie List:

@starkey-babie @sodasback @fashion-fasting @beauvibaby @barrysjumpsuit @vinniehcker

*tag list still open if you'd like to be added - just let me know!

Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you so much! xoxo

Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!

[racebox-of-higgars]

Take Me Captive, Set Me Free - Chapter Eight

New chapter of sprace pirate au is here! 

TW for discussions of child abuse in this chapter. The form for my next fic is still open until Wednesday, so please go and vote if you haven’t already - https://forms.gle/PWX4SarGJ9SswHAP6

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30592184/chapters/77798888

@angelslibrary - please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! 

Race couldn’t sleep. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t relax enough. Maybe it was something about the ground being solid, rather than the gentle rock of the ship, maybe it was the deafening quiet. Maybe it was worry for his crewmates. Regardless, he had been staring at the ceiling for hours with no chance of sleep, just as he had the past two nights. He still hadn’t heard anything about the crew, and he began to think he never would. He would go through the entire rest of his life not knowing what had happened to his family, and it made him sick. 

He wouldn’t know if Spot was okay. 

Spot could be hurt or dead and Race wouldn’t know. That thought terrified him. The man who had made Race feel alive for the first time could be dead. 

Spot made him see what the world could be. Spot gave him hope. Regardless of what had happened to Spot, Race was determined to make things right. He would fight tooth and nail until Spot and his crew could be free. If he couldn't return to Spot, he would use this situation to help them. He would free his country, no matter what. Just beyond his window, people were suffering. Children stole and fought just for their next meal, no shoes on their feet as they ran through cobbled streets to escape guards. Spot and his crew had opened his eyes to the way his people were hurting, and Race wouldn’t let himself become blind to it again. He had to make a change, for Spot. 

Images from the night before the battle flashed through his mind. What wouldn’t he give to be back in Spot’s arms right now? He was filled with such a sense of warmth when he was with Spot, he couldn’t give that up. Race may not have known Spot for very long, but he had taken up full-time residence in Race’s mind. Everything reminded him of Spot, which only made the uncertainty about his fate hurt more. He would give any luxury in this castle for one more moment with Spot. He would trade gold and silk and china for a breath of sea air, to hear Spot’s voice once more, to drink one more shot of whiskey on the deck. 

He would trade everything he had for that ship, for Spot. 

Silence hung over the room, so heavy it was impossible to break. It was too quiet. Aboard Brooklyn, there wasn’t a quiet moment - there was always the gentle lull of the waves against the hull of the ship, the light breathing of someone else asleep in his dorm, Finch snoring, Elmer’s nonsensical ramblings in his sleep. Race didn’t think he would miss that, but he did, more than he cared to admit. He missed it all. 

The sound of scraping at the window shook Race out of his thoughts. He glanced over, and his eyes widened. He ran out of bed to the window, pushing it open. 

“Spot, what are you doing here?” He hissed. 

“Seeing you, what does it look like I’m doing?” Race backed up, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands. 

“Great, now I’m fucking hallucinating to.” He laughed bitterly. There was no humour to it. He had to, to mask the hopelessness he truly felt. 

“What do you mean?” Spot asked, staying close to the window. Every bone in his body ached to wrap himself around Race and comfort him, but something stopped him. Race just gestured vaguely in his direction. 

“You! Being here, I mean. I don’t get it. Is it- is it my fucking brain trying to trick me into thinking you’re okay? I’m going crazy here, not knowing what happened to you, now I’m hallucinating.” Then, Spot did go and wrap his arms around Race tightly. 

“I am here, for real.” He said into Race’s hair. Race pulled back slightly, looking up at Spot with tears in his eyes. 

“Why?” 

“I needed to know you were okay.” He paused for a moment. “And I want to bring you back.” He looked around the room, at silk sheets and solid gold trim lining the walls. “If you want to come back, that is?” 

“God, yes,” Race answered immediately. 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” Spot began to make his way back to the window, but Race stopped him. “Wait.” Spot turned to face him. “Is everyone else okay?” 

“There were some pretty bad injuries, but everyone’s alive.” 

“Who was hurt?” 

“Elmer and JoJo were the worst, but they’re both alive, just on bed rest.” Race frowned.

“What happened to them?” 

“They had some pretty nasty run-ins with swords. Elmer got it in the stomach, JoJo in the leg.” Race thought for a moment, before rooting through the very bottom drawer in his dresser. “What are you-” Race held up a hand to silence Spot. He pulled out a small bag of various herbs and medicines. 

“Katherine keeps it here, just in case. It should help them.” He tucked it into his pocket, along with various silver and gold hairpins and jewellery. 

“What’s that for?” 

“We can sell it.” He fastened a simple silver chain around his neck. “It was my mother’s,” he said, at Spot’s confused look. “I want to keep it.” Spot nodded. 

“Ready to go?” Race looked at Katherine, asleep beside his bed, blissfully unaware. He couldn’t go without saying goodbye to her. He gently shook her awake. 

“Tony, what’s going on?” She asked, still half asleep. 

“I’m, uh, I’m going. Again.” Her face fell. “I wanted to say goodbye this time.” His eyes lit up as he had an idea. “Spot, why don’t we bring them with us? Katherine and David?” He glanced at Katherine, who looked past him at Spot. He paused for a moment. 

“I don’t see why not. We have spare beds and enough food to go around.” Race turned to Katherine. 

“Do you want to come?” He asked. She thought about it for a moment. 

“Yes, as long as you don’t mind.” Spot shrugged. 

“We always have space for new people.” 

“We should go find David too, we can’t go without him.” 

Their footsteps echoed in the dark, empty halls. Race couldn’t help but be reminded of the days he would run through these same halls in the middle of the night, just to spend a few hours exploring the grounds. Sometimes he would go alone, some nights he would go with the stable boy, or Katherine and David. He would run through the halls and into the gardens, climbing trees and playing in the mud, making the most of the little freedom they had. He always got in trouble afterwards but it was worth it. 

They turned into the servants wing, suddenly much quieter. David’s bed was at the very end of the room. 

“Wait here,” Race whispered. “I’ll get him.” The other two nodded, and Race made his way through the room, weaving through beds as quietly as possible, light footed and hardly breathing. If anyone woke up, they were all done for. Finally, he reached David’s bed. He shook David awake, holding a finger to his lips as David opened his mouth to say something. 

“Don’t ask questions, just grab anything you want to keep and come with me.” David’s brow furrowed but he sat up, pulling on shoes and fastening a simple leather braided bracelet around his wrist. Race couldn’t help but notice its resemblance to a bracelet he had seen Eclipse wearing. 

“What’s going on?” David hissed when they were out of the servants wing. 

“We’re leaving,” Race said simply. 

“What?” 

“I don’t have time to explain now but Spot showed up so we’re leaving with him.” 

“We can’t just leave!” 

“Keep your voice down!” Race turned down a different hallway, waving to Spot and Katherine who stood at the end. They turned to him as they reached them. 

“Are we ready to go?” Spot asked. 

“I never said I was going anywhere,” David said. 

“David, listen to me,” Race started. “If you stay here, you die. They’ll find out I’m gone, and they will kill you. Who do you have to stay for here anyway?” David opened his mouth to say something, but fell silent. “So, are you in or are you out?” David paused, eyes flickering between Race, Katherine, and Spot, who all looked at him expectantly. 

“I’m in,” David said finally, to the quiet cheers of everyone else. 

“I got some guys waiting outside to help us get outta here. Hope you two don’t mind running,” Spot said, mainly to Katherine and David. 

“Who’s gonna be there?” Race asked. 

“It was gonna be Albert and Finch but I couldn’t drag them away from Elmer and JoJo, so we’ve got Blink, Specs, and Sniper.” 

“Who names their kid Sniper?” 

“It’s a nickname, we all have them,” Race answered. 

“What’s yours?” 

“Racetrack.” David raised a brow. “Don’t question it.” 

Race’s legs and lungs burned from running. They sprinted across the castle grounds, making for the wall as fast as they possibly could. Race had plenty of practice running around and navigating the grounds, so he led the group. In the dark, it was difficult to navigate, but Race had experience and knew the grounds like the back of his hand. He weaved through tree roots and plants, jumping over the walls separating the gravel path and the gardens. For the first time in his life, Race resented the sheer size of the gardens. The sprawling acres that had once been his safe haven had become the one thing in between him and freedom, and he wasn’t going to let it hold him back. Nothing was going to stop him now. 

Shouts echoed behind them, which only spurred them on faster. It wouldn’t be long before guards would be hot on their trail, so they had to use the small lead they had while they could. The wall was only a few metres away now. Race simply poured on the speed, knowing the guards would be right behind them. As he reached the wall, he jumped, grasping the top of it and pulling himself up. Spot swung himself over, about to take off into the woods towards the ship, but Race turned to glance behind them. 

Katherine and David were still a few metres from the wall, guards right on their heels. Panic flashed through their eyes. Race shifted his position on the wall, reaching his hand out towards them. Katherine reached him first, and he grasped her hand tightly, pulling her over the wall. He did the same for David, turning to the guards and flipping them the bird, before jumping down the other side of the wall and taking off into the woods with the others. 

They only slowed when they reached Brooklyn, climbing onto the deck and immediately casting off the ropes keeping her docked. The sails were set and the moment the lines were cast off, they were in motion. Race watched from the edge of the ship as the land grew smaller and smaller. He took that moment to catch his breath, running a shaking hand through his hair. He hadn’t realised how much his legs were aching, how much his lungs burned from running until he stopped. He leaned against the railing, watching as the castle faded from view, as the waves crashed against the hull of the ship. He smiled. He was home. 

“Hey, Racer.” Spot materialised seemingly out of nowhere beside Race. “You okay?” Race paused for a moment before nodded. 

“Yeah. I’m glad to be back here, and that we were able to bring Kath and David too.” He turned around, watching David among the group. David looked out of place, but he was laughing at something Jack had said, while Katherine was talking to Eclipse, Sniper, and Smalls below deck. Spot followed his gaze. 

“They seem to be fitting right in.” 

“David and Jack seem to be getting along,” Race said with a wink. 

“Oh, God, Jack isn’t gonna shut up about him, is he?” 

“Nope!” Silence fell over them, but it wasn’t awkward. They didn’t need conversation all the time, and often silence suited them fine. Race stared down at the waves, mesmerised by the movement of them against the hull of the ship as they sliced through the sea. Spot simply watched Race, studying his features, all sharp angles and dark shadows in the low candlelight. He frowned as he noticed Racee’s black eye. 

“Who hurt you?” He asked quietly. Race tore his eyes away from the sea to look at Spot. 

“What do you mean?” 

“You have a black eye.” Spot gestured to his face. Race frowned, debating lying to Spot. He could say that it had happened in the fight, it would be so much easier than going into everything. So what was stopping him? Right, he wanted Spot to be open with him too, and Spot wasn’t going to do that if Race wasn’t honest. 

“I - uh - I told my father that I didn’t want to get married and he didn’t take it too well.” He laughed dryly in an attempt to add humour to the conversation. It didn’t work. 

“Shit, do you want some ice for it?” Race shook his head. 

“No, thank you. It’s not painful anymore. I’m fine.” He smiled, as if to prove his point. Spot paused, studying his face for a moment, before nodding. 

“Alright. If you do need anything, just let me know.” 

“I will.” Race paused for a moment, allowing a brief silence to stretch between them, before speaking up again. 

“Why did you have to leave home?” Spot froze. 

“What?” 

“The other night, you said you had to leave home when you were 8. I was wondering why.” Spot hesitated. “You don’t have to answer of course-” Race rushed out, “-I was just curious.” Spot shifted slightly where he was standing, drumming his fingers on the railing of the ship. 

“My parents died, they were killed. I only just made it out.” Race’s face dropped. He briefly wondered who had killed Spot’s parents, and had tried to kill Spot too. Spot was only a child when it happened, what sick bastard tries to kill a child? Well, Race could think of someone, but he pushed the thought from his mind. Now wasn’t the right time to ask. 

Hesitantly, he wrapped Spot in his arms, holding him tightly. 

“I’m sorry,” Race whispered, running a hand through Spot’s hair. 

“It wasn’t your fault.” 

“I know, but I still am.” Spot’s grip on Race’s shirt tightened slightly as Race slowly ran his fingers through Spot’s hair. “It’s okay, if you want to talk about it, I’m here for you, if you don’t then that’s fine too. If you just want to cry, I’m gonna be here to help you through that too.” Spot nodded, burying his face in Race’s shoulder. Race smelled like home - the wood of the ship, the salt of the sea, and honey, rich and warm. Honey had always been a luxury Spot could rarely afford, they only had it for special occasions, but Race was better than it could ever be. Spot pulled back from him slightly, eyes glancing over Race’s face, illuminated by the candlelight, casting flickering shadows upon Race’s face. Spot’s eyes were drawn to Race’s lips, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they would have that same sweet taste. Spot’s eyes met Race’s, a silent question, answered by Race’s eyes glancing at Spot’s lips. Slowly, Spot leaned in, eyes flickering shut. Race’s breath hitched at the closeness. Slowly, achingly slowly, Spot’s lips brushed Race’s, just a barely-there touch. Just as they were about to go in for more, the door crashed open. 

“Race!” Albert said, clearly not realising that he had interrupted them. Spot leapt back from Race as if he was burned, flushing deep red. Spot carefully avoided looking at Race, instead, focusing on Albert. Race took a moment to regain his composure before answering. 

“Yeah?” 

“I just wanted to thank you for the medicines, they really helped Elmer and JoJo, they’re both doing a lot better.” Race smiled, glancing at Spot before turning back to Albert. 

“That’s good. I’m glad I could help.” Albert nodded. Spot gripped the railing of the ship behind him tightly, staring at the floor. Albert shot him a questioning look, but he shook his head. Albert hesitated, before leaving, shutting the door behind him. 

“Spot-” Race began, but Spot shook his head. 

“Your bed is being used by Elmer at the moment, and keeping David and Katherine is taking up more, so we have to share.” 

“Shouldn’t we talk about this?” Race asked, taking a step towards Spot, but Spot backed away. 

“I made a mistake. We can just act like it never happened.” Race opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself. That stung. Was it a mistake? It didn’t feel like a mistake, at least to Race. Maybe Spot didn’t feel the same way he did. Maybe, for Spot, it had just been a heat of the moment thing. Emotions were running high, and they were still running on the leftover adrenaline from the chase, Spot had just made a mistake. It hadn’t meant anything to Spot, and that was okay. 

“Okay,” Race said, trying to mask the hurt he really felt. 

“You go ahead, I’ll come along in a bit.” Race nodded, making his way to Spot’s cabin. 

He was fine. Spot didn’t want him the same way he wanted Spot, and that was okay. He could act like it didn’t hurt. 

He had spent his whole life masking the things that hurt the most, what was one more?

[wovenstarlight]

YWBK update: chapter 25 + liner notes

yesterday will be kinder has updated! you can read chapter 25 here, or start from the beginning here

okay, on to notes and commentary! first time i’m doing these, let’s hope this works out. commentary under the cut to save people’s dashes

Hamin laughs. “Given how bad you are at not being suspicious, that’s understandable.” “Oh, come on, I’m not that bad.” Hamin screws up his whole face in a squint. “Okay, so maybe I’m a little bad.”

this part was really funny to me when i wrote it because i was like “hmm reasons for DHM to understand why HHJ wouldn’t work in the guild” and then i was like Wait. Their Whole First Meeting, Dude. DHM was lowkey convinced for the longest time that HHJ was like, on the run from the KR version of the mafia, and got plastic surgery to look like his little brothers, and is possibly in some sort of witness protection program??? or something??? how else does he not have cops on his ass this man is so suspicious all the time

“I don’t think… They said the dungeons were, like, different worlds? Did they find people there?”

mafia theory second place. dungeon theory first place

“Like, humans? Um. No, no humans.” “So then you can’t be from there. Okay.”

dungeon theory shot down. mafia theory back in the running

“Hey,” he says cautiously. “I’m— I’m gonna go get us some water, okay? Why don’t you… take a minute.” “Okay.” “The bathroom is over there, if you need it.” “Okay. Thank you.”

after four years working alongside a guy you start to notice when he’s feeling a little out of it and needs a bit of a break... but as JHW mentions later you also learn to be a little subtle about giving him one

jung heewon What’s with your typing? It reads like Jihye’s [HYJ]’s fine. Very energetic Too energetic? He’s going to burn out. How do I make him calm down

Epic Burnout Man makes a reappearance! when translating sclass one of the things that makes me want to shake HYJ most is his habit of constantly adding things to his to-do list while he already has 1 billion things on his plate. and all the time he’s whining about “UGH there’s SO MUCH WORK to do” No One Asked You To Do It

Anyway. the point is. HYJ isn’t about to be beat by HHJ at Developing Issues 😔

jung heewon I haven’t spoken to him directly about this because if he’s anything like you he’ll take it as an insult You wtf whts tht supposed 2 mean quit typing jung heewon Better not say shit, mr “No, I can’t take days off and cater to my interests or go out with friends or on a date, I’m too busy taking care of the kids and making sure their needs are met, no I don’t care that there are thousands of people out there balancing personal enjoyment and romance and work AND kids at the same time, are you suggesting I be a BAD GUARDIAN to MY KIDS?”

see above re: not being too direct with pointing out when HHJ’s having Issues because he doesn’t react well

You wht but our eyes r fine jung heewon Even if having glasses doesn’t run in the family, you should still get him checked, just in case

top 10 funny time travel moments: referring to you and your past self as “us” (our = my eyes are fine), but other people think you mean “our family” (our eyes are fine = no family history of long/shortsightedness)

Also. Sooyoung-ie says hi [Attachment: 20XX1213_144516.jpg] 

ok no lie this was one of the parts that pissed me off the most, even though it’s Literally One Line, because. i love chat exchanges. i really do. when done right they’re a lot of fun to read. But Do You Know How Long It Took Me To Figure Out A Calendar For The Events In This Fic. now everything’s TIMED i have to count HOW MANY DAYS IT’S BEEN since XY event so i can CORRECTLY NUMBER the FILE ATTACHMENTS!!! this sucks!!! it took me fucking forever to pin down a timeline just so i could write this chapter plus the few before and after it!!!!

anyway i gave up when i reached year. i just put 20XX. fuck it. we are running on fairy tail time now. (actually i think that’s XXnumber number? XX76? or was it X796. something like that. Who cares i stopped watching fairy tail forever ago)

Fuck it! Hamin will understand!! “If you Awaken you should come work with me,” Han Hyunjae says all in a rush. 

“HAMIN WILL UNDERSTAND” => he literally was cool with me giving zero context for half a dozen absolute balls to the wall nonsense bullshit things i’ve done before. he’ll be fine with this too. dog_in_burning_house_this_is_fine.png

“You already know about the guilds, those are going to be for dungeon Hunters, but I was thinking of forming something like an independent group of contractors. Awakened people with skills that aren’t useful for combat, but that might… that will be generally useful. It’d be you and me, and maybe one other guy I met recently. Probably more in the future.”

given that HHJ has no idea currently that peace exists (i’m so sorry baby i’ll find a way to shoehorn you in soon i miss you so much) he’s got no intentions to start a kiseungsu business yet! he mostly wants to live quietly while just acting as a manager for other Awakening-related services, like YMW’s forge and DHM’s tracking service, along with the information exchange/lowkey spy ring that he’s planning on setting up with JHW and the bar. since HYH is fine associating with him in this timeline, HHJ’s thinking he can get a foot in the door that way, then eventually spread out into dealings with most major guild leaders

RIP to this plan. you were well-made but you will not last long.

“Please, I can’t tell you how I know that, I really can’t, it’d put me and my brothers in danger if it got out. But—” “No need.” Hamin looks slightly alarmed, and Han Hyunjae feels himself settle at the obvious concern in his eyes.

MAFIA THEORY RAPIDLY RISING TO PROMINENCE??? THIS IS NOT HOW DO HAMIN WANTED HIS GUESS CONFIRMED

“I spoke to the Task Force Head and she said that there’s been discussion about hosting a meeting for the nearby high-rankers, where they’ll announce the guild proposal and see who else is interested in trying it out.”

“they’ll announce” i’m sorry king 💔 you deserved a nap

(OH ALSO FUN FACT choi eunyoung is a canon character, not an OC of mine! she appears in uhhh i think late 140s? 150s? something like that)

“I think there’s… probably only one other S-rank who’s Awakened right now?”

Hehehehehehehehehehehehehhehe

Hamin beams. “No, they’re doing great! Spookie’s taken really well to the new housing situation, but I think Spots might miss the store…”

shoutout to @daemonic-dawn​ for letting me borrow a pet name, love u king. i had a much longer ramble about pet names here but i finished typing and realized it was all entirely off topic so i removed it for convenience

Hyunjae makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat. “Don’t— I mean.” He huffs, visibly taking a deep breath, and Yoojin frowns reflexively. [...] “Is everything alright?” Yoojin kind of wants to be annoyed at his tone on principle, but he forces his shoulders to relax, matching Hyunjae’s posture. Though he can’t stop himself from being a little short when he answers.

things the brothers have learned in four years living together: getting confrontational often leads to arguments that just fizzle out anyway, so it’s way fucking easier to consciously tone down their combativeness in advance when talking to each other about things they have problems with, instead of screaming their heads off and then having to calm yoohyun down afterwards to boot

“I guess. Whatever.” Yoojin slumps. “Can I…” “Hm?” Hyunjae blinks at Yoojin as he gestures to the spot on the bed beside him, then jolts. “Oh! Yeah, sure, c’mere.” He opens his arms, and Yoojin goes over and flumps on the bed, head in Hyunjae’s lap. Almost immediately, Hyunjae starts stroking fingers through his hair, and Yoojin relaxes into the touch, listening as Hyunjae continues speaking.

cuddles 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i don’t have any other commentary here just. cuddles. extremely and overwhelmingly comforting for a man who spent the better part of 8 years(?) with no major positive relationships, and a kid who spent 12 years of early life basically abandoned by his parents. you had best bet they gave up on not hugging each other 1 year into this whole mess

Yoojin hums in acknowledgement. It’s not like he’d ever let himself get hurt; he has too many responsibilities to his family and friends. If he wants to be good enough to keep up, he can’t afford to fuck up like that. But… hyung will worry if he keeps working so hard. He can slow down a little for him. 

Problems disorder man when will you stop. the way he sees “getting hurt” as an inconvenience and an obstacle to his duties rather than a danger to himself. the way he doesn’t really care if he himself gets hurt, but if it’ll worry his family, then it’s a no-no. it’s just. wow. i know i wrote this but i hate him

“Not really. I talk to Myeongwoo about it sometimes.” “Ah, right, Myeongwoo.”

haha gays

“Don’t be weird about him,” Yoojin warns[...]. “I won’t, promise.”

if the “i won’t” line had a dialogue tag it’d be “Han Hyunjae lied”

“Is Eunwoo still in his relationship?” “Mhm, happy as ever. Apparently they’re trying long-distance, now that Eunwoo’s gone off to university abroad.”

three guesses for who eunwoo’s dating and you won’t need the first two

Hyunjae raises his hands like he’s going to deny the accusations levelled against him, so Yoojin seizes him by the collar and shakes him until he cries for mercy

oh my o/rv ass struggled so bad with not writing “shakes him like a man betrayed” here. it killed me not to. but in the end i prevailed (against, uh, myself. don’t think about it too hard.)

“Jeez, okay, he’s an F-rank!” “Eh?! Then why—” “He’s also got an SS-rank potential skill,” Hyunjae admits[...].

play-by-play of this scene because god if i draw any scene in this fic it would be this one just for the sheer hysterical nature of HYJ’s reaction:

YOOJIN: I HATE YOU WHAT THE FUCK WHY. TELL ME HIS RANK

HYUNJAE: HE’S AN F

YOOJIN: WHAT? WHAT THE FUCK?

HYUNJAE: he’s also got an SS-rank skill,

YOOJIN:

[burgerkang000]

Email for better love lives

I HAVE A NAME FOR THIS ONE YAAAAAY

im doing the read more thing, cuz u know scrolling ugh

@beyoncesdragon @aixy-hpsa (if anyone else wanna be tagged, let me know!!!)

This is a Yunho fic!

enjoy?

You met San at a compulsory public speaking class, where only you both had to attend for grades; it was filled with nerds who came voluntarily. And your bond begin with bored out glances at each other and loud sighs exchanged. And after that you guys hung out a lot, went to get coffee while doing homework, caught rides with each other, and waved whenever your paths crossed.

You met Yunho when San wanted you to meet his friends that he wouldn’t stop talking about, which made you slightly jealous; you yearned for a bond like that. You pushed that thought away, nothing good comes with jealousy. And while San and his friends would go about their own business, you would stick to the side-lines, not knowing what to say or do, even though they try their best to include you.

Yunho would be the one to keep you company, actively telling you about his day and attentively listen when you were asked about yours. He would also help you study and take you out to grab coffee when San would be too busy.

Anyone would be a fool to not fall for Yunho, with his smile that make his eyes crinkle at the corners, teeth on display, fluffy hair. Who wouldn’t fall for him, at least you could keep it inside, and no one had to know.

“Look at Yunho in this picture, he looks so handsome” San shows you the pictures from your quick break before the exams to the arcade. You take a glance, damn. You know that the moment you open your mouth, you’re screwed.

“Hmm”

“I don’t like it when you’re vague” 

“Yes Yunho is cute” That’s all you plan on saying anyways, but you had to panic, because what if San thinks you’re not commenting on it too much and picks up that you’re crushing on Yunho? Ok, so you were overthinking.

“Too cute that it’s impossible he exists, I mean I see him every day but it’s not like I believe he’s real, there is a limit to being cute and all. I mean a recreation of a Greek god- I mean he should be a Greek God himself-”

You were cut short by San’s exploding laughter and as you voice your confusion to him, he still laughs until you violently shake him-

“Yah! Why are you laughing?”

He finally calms down enough to tell you-

“Just say you have a crush on him”

You open your mouth to deny-

“Admit it~” He says scrolling through his phone again.

You huff out, San was your best (read: only) friend, it wouldn’t hurt to tell him, so you nod the tiniest bit, and San grins from ear to ear.

“I mean, I didn’t see it coming, but when you started rambling off like that, it was obvious.”

You sigh.

“You tell this to anyone, I will personally murder you”

“Sure sure”

And after that, he thankfully let you change the topic.

 .

.

.

Ever since then, whenever you’d meet Yunho, right after that, you’d whip out your phone to text San; something vague like-

“He’s wearing a red sweater”

“He dyed his hair blue!”

“Kill me”

And then you’d go home and text San about how a person; a human, cannot simply be so beautiful, and ramble off about him.

 .

.

 .

“But sir, I don’t have an email” You tell the professor, who has just asked to submit your assignment by mail.

“Don’t whine to me, and make one, is there a student your age without email? How do you have social media accounts?”

“I don’t have them” you reply

“Just make one, it’s extremely useful, and won’t take much of your time” He said, in a brushing off manner, guess he doesn’t believe you.

You nod and sigh as you leave to the next class. If you can’t whine to your professor, you can whine to Yunho. Who listens to the whole thing like the god damn angel he is, and as you open your phone to create one, he gently coaxes it out of your hand, asks you if it’s okay if he creates one for you instead and when you nod he turns his attention to the phone, while you’re just dumbly staring at your hand, where Yunho’s hand made contact with yours.

“Look, I sent my self a mail using yours, lets chat on mail for a while, you can get used to it” He says, you nod, and talk for a while, and then Yunho had to go. You wave at him while he leaves and you text San.

“What’s your mail?”

And when you finally get it, you send him a mail.

URGENT: JEONG YUNHO TOUCHED MY HAND, I REPEAT JEONG YUNHO TOUCHED MY HAND, MOM COME PICK ME UP PLEASE.

I MEAN HE WAS FABULOUS TODAY TO, IF IT WASN’T OBVIOUS; HIS HAIR WAS SO SOFT I CLIKED A PIC, LOOK:

[Image attached]

DO ME A FAVOUR, WHEN I DIE, SIT ON THE VERY SAME CHAIR HE’S SITTING ON, LOOK AT THE SAME DEIRECTION HE’S LOOKING AT AND BURY ME THERE, WHILE YOUR AT IT PRINT THIS ON MY GRAVESTONE.

WHEN I DIE PLEASE TELL HIM I LOVE HIM IN THE OTHER WAY.

BYEBYE

Later that day you get a reply from San saying that you’re too dramatic and an email from Yunho, which you didn’t think much about the time. He was the one who wanted to talk in mail, so you open it and-

And you realise you accidently send it to him too.

*cue freak out*

“So I must have send it to him too-” San blinks at you for a while and then-

Laughs at your face saying random things like

“This is gold”

“Nonononono”

“Never in my life- never”

At this point, you think he’s just spewing English vines that he’s been watching a bit too much to be considered healthy. And now you’re overcome with sadness, and as soon as he notices, he starts apologising and you bow you head, you think you look like a rag doll, and then cry. And san runs circles on you back, occasionally tucking strands of hair behind you ear and wait till you finish.

After a good while of snot- running type of crying, puffy eyes and ringing ears, you start to ramble, a habit that got you here in the first place.

“I don’t think I’m ready for rejection, I mean I was perfectly fine watching him from the side-lines. Heck I would watch him get married and I’d probably say nothing, like I’m not dying inside, proceed to get married, I’m crying tears of happiness-”

“What makes you so sure that he’s going to reject you?”

“I don’t know ok? But this isn’t a movie, he sees me as a friend and I had to go and catch feelings for him.”

San sighs.

“So, what’re you going to do now?”

 .

.

.

It was hard, but you finally managed to blackmail San to help you avoid Yunho situations.

“And how long do you plan to do this?”

“Until my plane ticket and Visa to Alaska are approved and I change my name to Veronica Fall”

He looks at you, and the look speaks for itself, you’re being dramatic. You raise your arms in mock surrender and flop on top of the bed.

“Tomorrow everyone is hanging out, Yunho will be there, you coming?”

You pointedly grin at his cheeky expression, and he mimics the way you had surrendered just a few moments ago.

 .

.

.

You stare at the response you had given to all the missed calls from Yunho.

I’m busy

Sorry, I was showering

I’m going to be busy for a while.

And you watch as the three dots move, and then stop and then move again, you feel as if your heartbeat moves along with those dots, stopping when it disappears, and then finally a response.

We need to talk, I gave you your time, and it’s not fair.

You feel like this is a new side of Yunho you haven’t seen, an assertive one. And you realise, just because you’re a coward, doesn’t mean that you can leave Yunho in the dark, even though you have fears of Yunho leaving you, getting awkward; deep down, you know, that Yunho, he’d never treat your feelings as something useless. And that makes you feel more in love.

And who knows unrequited love may not be so bad, maybe, just maybe; for Yunho it might not be so bad.

Fine

After sending the last text, you get up to clean the place, take out boxes littered about, and books and papers all lying about that you haven’t cared to put away. You do the dishes, and tie your hair into a pony, you’re distracting yourself from the real problem of facing him, for now you let yourself do it; later, you can scream at yourself.

And a right when you reach for the broomstick that you had tucked in deep behind the storage room; you hear a knock at your door.

You don’t think much about it, until you open the door. Low and behold; Yunho was standing at the doorway, a determined look on his face and he walks past you into the house.

You can’t help but think; geez, come on in. But you’re just salty.

And he opens his phone and shows it at your face, too close to read, practically in between your eyes, its touching your nose too. And you’re the dramatic one.

“Explain; explain this email, that was, I figure, supposed to be sent to San, explain why you’ve been avoiding me and my calls, and wherever I go right after I replied to this, I’m not going or letting you go until you do.”

And his voice cracks at the end bit, but you don’t notice, you’re in a bubble of thinking; thinking how to phrase this, just overthinking; maybe.

And moments which feel like hours pass, and you decide to do this the ripping off the band aid way. But it turned out more like the ramble it off way

“I like you? No, no that came out wrong… I love you? Yes, I’m pretty sure I love you, and don’t worry I know you’re not into me that way-”

And you don’t know what really happened; there was a hand on your face, right under your nose, and he was right in front of you.

“Sometimes, everything you say is nonsense.” He breathes, you open your mouth to respond, and he applies more pressure with his palm, to keep you quiet. You can’t help but think of the way your lips mouthed at his palm, not the time; not the time at all.

And then he continues.

“You don’t know how relieved I am to hear that, the moment I got that email, it took me a few minutes to understand, but when I did, I already pictured our five adopted cats, not gonna lie”

Your eyes widen in shock, did he just indirectly say he like you back, in the form of cats? This is why you fell for him in the first place.

“Did I creep you out? I must have creeped you out, forget I said that.”

And you laugh behind his palm, and he slowly removes it, moves it to your shoulder, drags it down the length of your arm, and interlocks it with your hand, a sweet smile on his face, the contagious one, so it’s only law that you smile back, teeth and all, since you can’t hold it back.

“We should go on a date.”

“That; we must.”

.

.

.

You were on one of your many dates, too wind up in each other to not notice the others who also wanted to hang out with you, you totally kept the news from San; you and Yunho are in this together, so he needs to also be comfortable with telling San, after a lot of thinking, you both settle on letting them find out, which may take years to get in their daft heads, but for now, you both have put fate in them.

 .

.

.

San caught on way too quickly, the moment you enter the café and sit down, he says-

“So you’re not moving to Alaska? Or is your husband; Yunho moving with you?”

You blush and look down-

“Look, I can explain-”

And he breaks into a wide grin,

“I’m happy for ya”

.

.

.

You and Yunho were scrolling through many of the messages you have send to San; the ones fawning over Yunho, as much as he likes to get you flustered, he himself also gets flustered, so it’s a win-win situation.

“They haven’t caught on yet” you suddenly say.

It’s true, other than San none of them have caught on yet that you both have been dating, and that’s kind of weird, since it’s been almost a whole year.

But it’s not like you’re gonna sit them down and tell them. You and Yunho have a better plan.

Well you have a better plan.

“-and they walk in on us!”

“…..”

“Or not?”

“No”

You end up inviting them over for dinner, and as they take their first bites, you happily chirp in that you’re dating and Yunho adds that you’re moving in with, leaving everyone to choke on their food, except San, who had a cocky expression, which soon turned into a choking fit, who’s cocky now?

And Wooyoung looks up, and goes “Wait, you’re serious” and continues choking, this time on nothing.

 .

.

.

[verobatto]

Destiel Chronicles

It was a love story from the very beginning

Vol. LXXI

Don't You Love Me?

(11x19)

Hi everyone! How are you? This is another piece from this adventure, it has more than one year and we reached and passed volume 70th!! I'm so glad you are still reading my nonsenses, and keep sharing my ramblings. Thank you! So much hard work rewatching and taking notes is worth it if you are reading this on the other side! 💕💕

Are you ready for the angst? Let's do this!

Worried about Cas

After seeing with his own eyes that Castiel didn't want to be rescued, that he really wanted to be used by Lucifer so they could defeat Amara, Dean stays all night long awake, trying to find a way to rescue him now from Amara, who has Casifer prisoner.

With a heart broken again, and worried because Amara could kill Cas anytime, Dean can't sleep. First if all, the pain in his heart for being rejected again, is too big, and the idea of loosing Cas for ever, to see the man he loves die, terrifies him.

So the first dialogue between Dean and Sam shows us all of that.

Gif credit @subcas

Sam: Dude, you even move since last night?

Is the first words we heard from Sam, and is showing to the audience a very important point: why Dean didn't moved the whole time? It means that when Sam went to bed, he was in the same spot. Is saying Dean didn't slept that night. He didn't move from that chair, trying to find Cas. A very important point to show how much Dean cares about Cas.

Dean: [tiredly] Sleeping is the new smoking.

Sam: What? No, it’s not. It’s sitting. Sitting is the new smoking.

Dean: That’s can’t be right.

Okay, this could be an innocent quote, Dean mistaking the famous phrase, but is not. Dean is relating the quote to DEPRESSION, that's why he names SLEEPING to SMOKING, because he's talking about depression. But when Sam relates this with SITTING, which we know is talking about other kind of diseases, Diabetes, hypertension, etc, Dean says 'THAT'S CAN'T RIGHT' because those are not meanings he was looking for, he wasn't talking about those diseases, that's why he didn't talk about sitting/sedentariness, but sleeping/depression. Because he was feeling that way.

Sam: Dean, we’ll find Cas, okay? He’s stronger that he looks.

And because Sammy knows, he knows why Dean is in that shape: Cas.

Dean: You know, we gambled with Cas, and now Amara has him.

Sam: For a reason, which means he’s still alive.

Dean is spitting out his fears right there, but not all the fears he was ruminating the whole night, and Sam is trying to give to each depressing thought a light of hopes, to make his brother to feel better.

Dean: [shakes his head] I’ve been with Amara. Her beef is with the big guys … with God, with Lucifer. The small fries, even an angel like Cas, doesn’t even register. And if it meant hurting Lucifer, killing Cas would mean nothing to her.

Another thought flying in his mind, he is afraid Amara could kill Cas.

Sam: It’s been a week. We’ve still got no leads.

Dean: You think I don’t know that? [rises from the chair]

So we just had three thoughts that kept Dean awake the whole night: HE DIDN'T NOTICED CAS WOULD SAY YES TO LUCIFER, HE KNOWS AMARA COULD KILL HIM ANYTIME, AND IT'S BEEN A WEEK! It's been a week, which means, Dean had been an entire week in this shape, without sleeping and worried about him.

Knowing this, let's jump to the other point.

Worrisome+heart broken

Repressing all the feelings again

I just want you to recall a timeline about Dean's perceptions of Cas feelings for him. If you read my previous metas From season 5+6, 8, 9 and 10, you would be aware of the following facts:

- Finale S5: Cas flew away from the car without saying goodbye to Dean. Dean went to Lisa and never contacted Cas (feeling kind of offended) until Sam said Cas wasn't answering to his prayers.

-S8: After the crypt scene, Dean felt rejected.

-S9: Road Trip episode: Castiel comforted Dean as a lover, with devoted words and supportive looks.

-s10: After Dean came back from being a demon, Castiel names a female in his car waiting for him, and Dean reacts like a jilted lover, and the episode after that is using OOC a blind dates app.

And now... We have a rejected Dean, because Cas didn't want to be rescued by him. Again. Like in Purgatory. So... Time to repress the feeling even more... And we had 11x19 'The Chitters' talking about that.

This is gonna be a very huge mis if symbolism in just one monster. First of all, we have the description of the eyes...

Cori: [hesitates] The thing that took Libby was naked and pale. Except for the eyes. I swear to God, they flashed green for a second.

Okay, I'm the crazy old lady of colors, so you know what I'm gonna point here: GREEN is DEAN. Keep that in mind...

Cori: It was shaped like a man. Or was it a woman?

Dean: [curiously] Was it a man or a woman?

Cori: It didn’t have a … [points downward with her fingers]

Dean: A penis?

Cori: [wide-eyed] It didn’t have anything.

Dean: What you’re saying it was junkless?

Cori: Completely.

Second thing I want you to recall is... This monster has not genre, first thing Dean thought about angels, remember? But we learned, same angel can take different genres of vessels. Because they are utterly indifferent to sexuality. Just pointing here that this characteristic is related to angels, in Dean's mind junkless, and in canon with Raphael and even Castiel taking male and female vessel. Keep this facts in mind too...

This monster took a vessel too to copulate, into a very huge orgy. Lest's take a piece of the dialogue between the Winchester and one of the residents who lost his husband.

Etta: Oh, yeah [nods]. Gran said that if you got the chitters, you get so revved up with lust that your eyes would shine like emeralds 

So, time to convey all these facts...

This is representing two important things: Green eyes talks about Dean, so, this junkless monster that search's for a vessel to copulate represents angels. They are presenting this chitter as something filthy, and people doing insane, sinful things (the orgies) Is something BAD AND FILTHY, as we will see in the next scene, but pay attention to these two conclusions: Dean thinks he doesn't deserve Cas, he thinks Cas is not interested romantically on him. So he repressed his feelings (including lust and shame of daring to love a celestial and pure creature, and passion too because is part of being in love). Second, we have the angels and their Sacred Oath, they can't bond with humans physically, we talked about this in season 8 with the tests Castiel had to achieve to close Heaven and we will talk about this in s12 too. If angels have sex with humans, both deserve to die because IS DEFINITELY NOT ALLOWED. So the cause of those forbidden feelings in Castiel has GREEN EYES.

Last thing i want to point is one of Cochrane's quote, when he was talking about her daughter and the people that had died 30 years ago...

Cochran: Yeah, better to bury it. [voice cracks] All of it.

The angst from this scene is huge, but the phrase I marked here, plus all the things we were talking about SHAME/REPRESSED FEELINGS, is showing us how finally Dean, brokenhearted as he is right now, were thinking all of this things these nights he was awake, plus the depression of not seeing Cas in bad shape saying yes to Lucy, plus the fear of lose him for ever.

And finally, to show you this entire "Chitters'" thing was about and angel and a human in love... I will turn this scene into a Destiel one...

Gif credit @spacedudeee

Because who's the sinner? And who's the rebel?

Do I have to answer that? Okay, DEAN AND CAS. Sinner and Rebel. Can a sinner, with shame inside, feel that he deserves a love of an angel? And can a rebel angel allow himself to love a human with such passion?

Again, this episode was a huge Dean's POV...

I think I explained my point here... Let's jump to the easy part 🤣🤣

Jesse and Cesar: What we want for Destiel

This is a canon fact very well known for the fandom, Jesse as Dean mirror and Cesar as Castiel.

Both men were a reflection of what Dean really wants in his heart, his curiosity spoke by itself when he asked

Gif credit @mooseleys

Dean: What’s it like, settling down with a hunter?

Is expressing perfectly his deep desires. And seeing them both together, supporting each other, and being a real couple, was very important to his self discovering. Two badass Manly men that fell in love with each other.

It wasn't casual writers decided to team up Cesar with Dean and Jesse with Sam, it was like a picture of Dean talking with Cas about himself, and Sam talking with Dean about their childhood traumas.

It was a very beautiful gesture of Dean to not disturb them asking them for help with Amara, because he knew about their plans of retirement. And this is talking about another wish in Dean's heart: retirement with his beloved.

Gif credit @thejabberwock

To Conclude:

Episode 11x19 was about everything Dean has playing in his mind: Fears of loosing Cas, shame for loving him and feeling he doesn't deserve him. His fantasies about what Cas thinks about him, or worst, about him being in love with him. And how he decided to repress all of it again, because he felt rejected again by the angel, and that's why he will start saying We and not I.

It also presents Sacred Oath for angels, a very important topic for the next season.

And we had Jesse and Cesar, Destiel beautiful mirror, talking about Dean's deep desire. And what we want for Destiel.

Hope you like this meta! See you in the next one!

Tagging @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks @weirddorkylittlediana @michyribeiro @whyjm @legendary-destiel @a-bit-of-influence @thatwitchydestielfan @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @lykanyouko @evvvissticante @savannadarkbaby @dea-stiel @poorreputation @bre95611 @thewolfathedoor @charlottemanchmal @neii3n @deathswaywardson @followyourenergy @dean-is-bi-till-i-die @hekatelilith-blog @avidbkwrm @anarchiana @dickpuncher365 @vampyrosa @authorsararayne @anonymoustitans @mybonsai1976 @love-neve-dies @dustythewind @wayward-winchester67 @angelwithashotgunandtrenchcoat @trashblackrainbow @deeutdutdutdoh @destiel-shipper-11 @larrem88 @charmedbycastiel @ran-savant @little-crazy-misha-minion @samoosetheshipper

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts @mishtho @dancingtuesdaymorning @nerditoutwithbooks @mikennacac73 @justmeand-myinsight @idontwantpeopletoknowmyname @tenshilover20 @teddybeardoctor @pepevons @helevetica @isthisdestiel @dizzypinwheel @jawnlockwinchester @horsez2 @qanelyytha

@imjustkipping @destielle @agusvedder @spnsmile @shippsblog @robot-feels @superlock-in-the-tardis

If you want to be added or removed from this list, just let me know.

If you want to read the previous metas From s11, here you have the links:

Vol. LXII, LXIII, LXIV, LXV, LXVI, LXVII, LXVIII, LXIX. LXX.

Buenos Aires July 21th 2020 6:34 PM

[lovlydovlyjaycie]

The Walking Dead / Supernatural: A World Changed

Hii so this is gonna be a story about a crossover but also not really a crossover from the walking dead and supernatural.

It’s been a minute, but here is part 9! If you wanna be tagged let me know! :)

Summary: Y/N is from Boston and moved to Los Angeles to be a nanny, she’s been doing it for a while now and loves the two, soon to be three, children like they were her own. One day she goes to work and it seems like the world around her is falling apart. People are dying, unbeknownst to her they are coming back to live. She is trying to find a way so she stays alive and the people around her too and she needs help, but she’d rather does it on her own.

Characters: Y/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack, Jody Mills, Donna Hanscum, Claire Novak, OC Clark Cattaneo, OC Jayden Cattaneo,                Mentioned: OC Alice Cattaneo,  OC Mark Cattaneo , OC Birdy Cattaneo

Warnings: angst, language, violence, awkwardness? slight fluff?

Part 9 - In The Tree Line 

Day 764

Today was my turn to guard with Sam. On days that I guarded Donna usually watched Clark and Jayden, she loved doing it and both Clark and Jayden were always so excited to go to Donna. She gave herself the title of ‘auntie Donna’. I had a later shift today, so Donna would be putting them down for bed and checking on them. “You guys be good listeners to auntie Donna now she’ll be putting you down for bed tonight. And I’ll make sure I give you two a kiss when I get back.” They both nodded their heads in understanding and gave me a big hug before going with Donna. “If anything goes wrong, just get me ok?” I told Donna. “I’ll do that, but everything will be alright. Nothing to worry about.” She said smiling. It was always hard leaving Clark and Jayden, but now knowing Donna I trust her she knows how to take care of kids.

When I had dropped them off I walked through the halls to the infirmary, Bobby went over all the guns.

“Hi good evening Bobby!” I said cheerfully. “Good evening y/n. You have the evening shift today?” Bobby said back. “Yup. Watcha got for me?” I asked. “Do you want your guns?” “No just the machinegun will do.” Bobby gave me my gun. In the world before this would be such a weird conversation. “Do you want a machete too? For the ones that get close?” He asked. “Sure.. Say.. We do have a lot of machetes don’t we?” I noted. There were like eight of them. We actually had a lot of guns in general. Maybe someone collected weapons before or got really lucky when this all started. “Better to have a lot than nothing, you never know if you’re gonna need it.” I nodded my head at that.

“Alright Bobby, have a goodnight and I’ll return this after my shift is done.” I waved him off and started walking towards the exit. It was gonna be a cold shift.

I had my jacket on and a beanie that I borrowed from Claire. Before I stepped outside I zipped my jacket all the way up. Stepping outside was so cold. I could see my breath, because it was so cold. I should have gloves or something next time. I wish I could just go out myself and look for things. I really wanted to go on a run with the Winchesters. Or anybody really, but still. I wanted to go out. Now I felt comfortable enough to leave Clark and Jayden with Donna I didn’t see why that wouldn’t be a possibility.

Walking towards the gate I saw Sam already standing there. “Hi Sam!” I said, that startled him a little and that made me giggle. “Hi y/n, didn’t hear you coming.” “That was obvious.” I said smirking at him. “Hey you know if you want your dinner you might want to be nicer to me.” I dropped my smirk. “Alright sorry that you scare easily. What are we having.” Sam rolled his eyes at that,. “Well, we got the best of the best, right here. It is... Bland spaghetti.” He said as he held a bowl in front of me. “Yum.” I said with no actual visual excitement.

We both started eating the spaghetti. Having small talk about what he saw on his run the other day. “About that..” I started, finishing the bite I just took. “I wanted to ask if I could go on a run the next time you guys go?” I asked.

“Uhmm.. I- I’d have to talk with Dean about that. But you have your classes or do you not like doing that?” Sam asked me. “In all honesty.. I don’t. I had this talk with Dean about holding on to things that were before and me teaching is me trying to hold on to someone I’m just not anymore. If that makes sense? I just.. Even though before I loved doing this.. right now it just doesn’t feel like me anymore.. I’m just talking nonsense now sorry.” I rambled on. But it was true. Before all of this I couldn’t wait until I could finally start teaching, but now, it just feels so distant. It doesn’t feel like something I should be doing.

“No I understand. People change during crazy situations. Especially through situations like these. But do you feel comfortable enough to leave Clark and Jayden here while you’re out there?” He asked. Sam just wanted me to be sure of something like this, because not that long ago I ran off because I didn’t trust anybody.

“I am comfortable with that. The bunker is safe and I know and trust everybody in here now. So yes I’m ok with that.” I explained. I mean it would probably be hard to leave them for a little, but I’ll be back before you know it. It should be fine right? I trust these people.

“Then I don’t see why not. I’ll just have to aske Dean. But he’ll take over for me in a little bit, cause I’m gonna make a list for the things we need to look for on the run in a couple of days.” Sam explained. This was good, Sam agreed in me going already. I honestly can’t wait until I can go outside and not have to worry about Clark or Jayden being in danger. It would feel so freeing, like there would be a weight lifted off my shoulders.

“Speak of the devil.” Sam commented. “Hi Sam, y/n.” Dean said as he was walking up to us.

“Hey, about the run we’re having in a couple of days, y/n wants to join us-” “No, y/n has her teaching.” Dean interrupted. “What I was trying to say.. We could use the extra help. And the day we are going she doesn’t have her teaching anyway.”

Dean crossed his arms. “It’s dangerous out there, I don’t think it’s a good idea.” I laughed at that. Is he serious. “Are you forgetting that before I met you guys I was out there with two kids for two years. If anything it’s a lot easier to go out now, because there are no kids with me I need to protect.” Sam gave me a knowing smile. They both knew I was right.

“That doesn’t make it less dangerous for you to get out there.” Dean tried to argue back. “I’ve been out there for two years, while all of you have been hiding in a bunker. I think I know how to protect myself.” I stated a little smugly if I might add. After a moment of silence I said. “I’m going.” Dean tried to say something but I repeated again. “I’m going. End of story.” I just really wanted to get out.

“It’s settled than.... Welp.. you guys have fun guarding together.” Sam said as he waved awkwardly and walked away.

It was awkwardly silent the whole time we were guarding the gate. We were both trying to avoid each others gazes and there were almost no words spoken the entire time. But after a while I think Dean had enough so he decided to break the awkward silence.

“Why do you wanna go out there? It’s nothing but trouble over there. And like you said you’ve been out there.. So you know what trouble you can get in. Why would you wanna do that?” Dean asked me. Looking into my eyes. We were standing far apart, but I could still see his green eyes that lit up by the dim lantern we had standing on one of the cars.

“Because.. I just wanna get out there and not have to worry about Clark and Jayden being safe.” I tries explaining. It was honestly not so much the teaching that bothered me, I still didn’t really like doing it, but I just wanted to get out. I also think I just wanted to get out there because I’ve been with Clark and Jayden this entire time. I just wanted to know what it was like without them to worry about. Was that selfish?

“What if something happens to you?” Dean said worry written all over his face. “I-.. I can’t think about that. Nothing will happen to me.” I told him, but I was more trying to convince myself, more than anything. I just needed to get out of the bunker. It was honestly starting to feel like home, but I still felt stuck inside the gates. I guess that just happens when you’re out there for as long as I have. But getting a chance to go outside these gates without having to worry about Clark or Jayden for once is something I’ve never have been able to do. And it might be selfish of me to say, but I really wanna go out there like I am not a parent for once. Because I’m not, but I am, but I’m not.. right. This title of ‘mom’ was given to me so quickly and I was ok with it, but I never had the chance to prepare like other parents. I didn’t have the 9 months of build up and then boom you have a baby now. It’s just a lot. And with the whole world falling apart I never really had the chance to process any of it. Besides all of that I made a promise to not tell anyone that I am not the really mom of Clark and Jayden. And maybe to have a chance out there I can pretend I’m not. What a horrible thought to have.

“Are you ok?” Dean must have seen the conflict I was having in my head. I wish I could tell him, I wish I could tell everyone, but even though I’ve been here for a month now how much can I really trust them. What if something went wrong and they’d take them away from me.

“I’m ok. I just.. I don’t expect you to understand, but I’ve been out there for so long and I kinda miss it... I guess. And just being in here makes me feel like I’m stuck. I trust Donna to take care of Clark and Jayden for the time I’m gone.” And I truly did trust Donna, just not enough to tell her or again, anyone that I’m not their mother. “I just feel like being in here all the time teaching is me trying to hold on to something I’m not... If that makes sense.”

Dean sighed. “I can understand that... I’m just gonna be keeping an eye on you, cause I don’t want anything to happen to you out there.” He said quickly. I smiled at that and he gave me an awkward smile.

“Thank you Dean it really means a lot to me.” We smiled at each other and without both of us knowing we kept each others gaze. His face was luminated by the dim lights we had around the gates. His eyes looked dark, but still you could see his beautiful green color. I noticed that had freckles on his face, it was very tempting to come closer to count them. But realizing we both have been staring a little too long at each other I directed my gaze down. Such a creep I am staring at somebody. I laughed awkwardly, hoping to move on from this awkward encounter. 

After a while of us just keeping watch by the gate Dean spoke up. Probably trying to break the awkward silence that was hanging in the air still. “Soo.. The sky looks nice tonight.” I looked up. It was a clear night you could count the stars. “Don’t tell anyone, but.. There was one perk about the whole world ending.. No pollution. Nights like these.. They’re normal now and I think that’s amazing.” I laughed.

“I agree. You can finally see the stars. Where I lived before I could never.” I told him looking up at the beautiful sky.

“Oh right.. LA girl.” He noted. And I snorted at that. “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked now looking at him, pretending to be offended. “Just saying. City girls have their own occupations. And that usually doesn’t include looking up at the sky.” He said smiling. “Well you know, for your information my family used to take me for camping trips in Arizona or Colorado. And I always very much appriciated the sky. I’m not that much of a city girl.” I laughed. But I dropped my smile soon. My family. Would they still be ok? 

“Were they from LA too?” Dean asked looking at me again. “No, they were from Boston. I was raised there. I only moved to LA for work. It’s been so long since I’ve seen them. I was supposed to visit them for Christmas, but.. That obviously didn’t happen.” Dean put his arm around my shoulders. “Hey, they’ll be fine. Boston is not that crowded as LA was. And if they are as smart as you they found a way to make a living after.. what.. two years.. Right?” I looked up and him with a smile. It really was because of my dad who taught me how to survive. I don’t think if he ever showed me how to navigate and make traps I would’ve survived. They’re fine. “You’re right. And it has been seven hundred-sixty-four days since the world ended.” His eyebrows shot up. It looked kinda comical. “You’ve been counting the days.. this whole time?”

I laughed a little embarrassed. “Yes.. Is that weird?” I looked down. “No! That’s great. Now I know who to go to for a birthday reminder.” I rolled my eyes. “I guess I’m your girl for that.” We were leaning against a car that was next to the gate. Dean still had his arm over my shoulders. It honestly felt really nice. It was warm in this cool Winer air.

“Why did you start counting?” Dean wondered. “Well I guess I started, because I wanted to know how long it took until all of this would end. And I just didn’t stop.” I explained. I really don’t know why I haven’t stopped counting. It just became second nature to always remember how long it had been since my life before. “Maybe you still wanna hold on to something from your life before.”

It would make sense. “Maybe, but I’m never getting that back. And I’m not sure if I want to.” “I can relate to that.” Dean said. I looked at him a little questionably. “Well, besides the dying it’s not so bad here. You kinda know what to expect I guess. Besides, we don’t have to pay taxes anymore. That’s pretty nice.” I chuckled. “You ae right about that. No taxes and pretty skies.” Now we were both looking up again. It looked so beautiful and so clear. “Oh and..” I turned my head around to Dean to look at him only to be inches removed from him. I didn’t know he was looking at me. The words that I was about to say are lost. I only could think about his eyes. Being so close I could smell the whiskey coming of his breath and the gunpowder from his clothes. I didn’t notice that I was getting closer to him. Feeling his breath on my lips almost touching. CRACK! We both moved away quickly. Something outside of the gates was moving. We both put our guns in our hands pointing to the direction where the noise came from. 

“HELLO!” Dean shouted. He was bang his gun against the gate. If it was the dead it would attract them to come closer, so we could deal with them. But nothing came. “Maybe an animal?” I said quietly. “It sounded too heavy for that. Stay here.” Dean said opening the gate. “What the hell are you doing? You don’t know what it was.” I said shocked, does he want to get killed? “I’ll be fine. Just cover for me if it’s needed.” I angerly put the gun up.

“WHO’S THERE?” He yelled again. “Dean do you wanna get killed?” I gave him a pointed glare. This was stupid. Dean followed the tree line with his gun and looked in the bushes. He saw traces of something and put his gun up looking around. After a little bit of knowing it was clear he motioned for me to come.

“What is it?” I asked walking over to him. “Footsteps. They go that way. Who ever it was left.” I stepped closer inspecting the footprints myself. It was hard to see in the light. “You have a flashlight?” I asked Dean. He handed me one he had in his pocket. “What is it?” He asked. I shined on the footprints. These kinds are familiar. 

“They’re military.”

...

..

.

Let me know what you think!! :)

@hobby27​ 

[soradragon]

Purple Hyacinth

First Bakugou x reader and I think this one has become one of my favourites! I put my entire being into making this so I hope you all like this just as much as me! ^^

Thank you for helping me edit this @xxbyimm and  @jinks-world​ !! love you guys!!!

If you want to be tagged in the upcoming fics don’t be afraid to ask me!^^

Masterlist

Bakugou x reader

Warnings; angst and fluff and idiotic pinning

Anyway, enjoy^^

~~~~~~~

As he walked, Bakugou pulled a hand through his hair.  He just got back from the infirmary and the bandages around his back weren’t the only evidence of what happened this morning, for his arms and hands were still trembling. The confrontation with you played over and over again in his head, still affecting him. 

In truth, you hadn't punched him that bad. He knew you could have done way worse, but you held back - even though your anger somehow had gotten the best of you.

You had been shouting at him, your eyes filled with tears that had yet to be shed. Bakugou doubted he could forget that look in your eyes anytime soon. 

Black ooze mixed with white had shot out of the bulbs from the centres of your palms, forming a tentacle.  It had slapped him across the face, it strangely felt like plastic filled with water had hit him.  

The force of your blow had been enough to launch him through the terrain. The stinging pain of rocks and rubble digging in his back still felt nothing like the dull, aching inside Bakugou's chest. It constricted his heart with strings of pain, tugging and pulling at it mercilessly like he was a mere rag doll. His fist clenched around the fabric of his uniform right where his heart throbbed painfully inside his chest.

Frustration and confusion plagued Bakugou’s mind as he relived the way you had been shouting at him. You treated him like he betrayed you, with that, hurting him more than he would like to admit. 

Usually, you were a soft-spoken and tender girl, completely opposite of the one that had been standing before him. Kirishima had to hold you back before you could march up to him and do who knows what, but you struggled in his hold. When it became clear you couldn’t free yourself from the firm grip you were in, you started to shout. You yelled at Bakugou about how insensitive he was, about how he didn't care about anyone but himself.

When you finally ripped yourself from Kirishima’s hold and stormed in Bakugou’s way, it didn't occur to him to duck away or to evade your attack. The things you said to him before you used your quirk had stunned him into silence and glued him to the ground. 

Even now, hours after the event,  your words continued to bounce around inside his mind, haunting him with the image of your tear-stained face. 

"So we are not worthy enough to be here!? We shouldn't be here because some of us have a hard time controlling our quirks!? So you say we are worthless!? Fuck you, Bakugou!"

Bakugou was at a loss. So many thoughts consumed him, pushing to get even a second of the spotlight. Why did he even care? You were just you, so why did it bother him seeing you cry like that? Why did he want to comfort you and beat the living shit out of anything that had made you sad? 

Which obviously included himself then… And that...confused him...

How did he set you off the way he did? He always made sure his actions and the things he said had never bothered you. 

You'd laugh that annoyingly perky laugh of yours when he exploded - figuratively and literally.

Why was it so different this time? What did he say to make you so sad? He did have a vague hunch but he wasn't that sure about it.

One thing was clear. He wanted to make you smile again, he wanted to fix whatever he had done to make you mad with him. If he had to punch someone (or himself) to make it happen, he damn sure would do it without a second thought.

Bakugou felt determination burn within him as he walked through the halls towards the dorms with a purpose. He was going to make amends, and find out what he had said to set you off.

*(*)*(*)*

...It was harder than he originally thought...

He was standing right there, in front of your door. He just had to raise his hand and knock. 

Easy as that. Couldn't have been easier.

And yet, Bakugou hesitated at the last second. He just stood there, frozen, in front of your door with his fist raised. He must’ve looked so damn ridiculous. Why was this so much easier in his head?!

Kirishima had come up to Bakugou when he wandered inside the common-room looking around him. Suspecting you would be in the common-room like normally, but you weren’t there. Kirishima told him ( before he could even ask) that you went to your room after getting detention. 

Well, that backfired. Originally, he was going to put the thing in your room and leave before you would know that he was in your room. 

His only plan exploded right in his face.

Now, there was only one option left...and he didn't like it.

Come on, it can't be that hard! Just knock on the damn door and get on with it!

Bakugou scolded himself, shaking off the last thoughts of going back. Pumping himself up to take that last, final step.

He was ready. 

Raising his hand towards the door and -

You opened the door before he could knock...

Crap!

Your eyes widened slightly when you saw Bakugou standing before you. But your surprise was short-lived, and your face quickly scrunched up into a scowl. You did not look happy, not happy at all.

"What do you want Bakugou?"

Bakugou resisted the urge to flinch when you spat his name out with such venom. But he also noticed the slight crack in your voice. You were still hurt.

Not knowing what to do with himself, he mirrored your expression and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Both of you were taking each other head-on, glaring at each other with fury and an annoying stubbornness. But that didn't really bother Bakugou, because above all, he secretly admired your perseverance. 

It was the puffy red eyes that dismayed him. You had been crying...

His mind raced.

What now? This wasn’t the plan, what should he say? Fuck, he had not prepared for this. This wasn't going as it should have! 

Bakugou cursed himself. His body didn't cooperate, he was frozen stiff.

After a moment of awkward silence and stubbornly glaring at each other, you finally caved in. You sighed frustratedly and said: "if you're not gonna say anything, then I'm closing the door. Goodbye Bakugou."

That was enough to snap Bakugou right out of his stupor. He couldn’t allow this to happen after all he has done!  Bakugou’s instincts took over and he reacted without thinking. He grabbed the door before you could fully close it, almost getting his fingers slammed in the door and the doorframe. Bakugou didn't pull, he still was giving you an out.

You gritted your teeth, Bakugou was so infuriating, it angered you. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't make yourself hate him. What was worse is that he didn't even know you couldn't make yourself close the damn door. 

Why did this boy affect you so much? You gave him one final glare before giving in. He won.

"What is it that you want?" you hissed.

This time Bakugou didn’t freeze this time he pushed his pride aside and he was ready to tell the truth. And he would succeed. With effort, Bakugou pushed the words past his lips. A non-filtered sentence and then some came right out of his mouth. He just hoped it didn't disappoint. He felt stupid like that idiot Deku...How humiliating!

"Take this! I hope this thing will clear up what I've done or whatever..."

Bakugou shoved the bush of purple Hyacinths he had brought with him, into your face as he spoke. The bell-looking blooms almost got pushed right into your nose.

Bakugou glared towards the ground, not daring to even glance towards you. His entire body burned in shame, he really wanted to blast some stuff to pieces. 

What he didn't know was that you had taken the flowers, immediately recognizing the meaning behind them the moment he shoved them into your face. You felt the sharp, sudden feeling of new tears coming, but you didn't really care. These were happy tears. 

One thought invaded your mind, letting all the frustrations and irritations fade. 

He remembered.

A giggle had escaped your lips when you saw Bakugou blush. Ah, he was trying so hard to apologize. Your heart melted, right at that moment you knew that you would always forgive him. For he - even though he didn't let it show - took the time to listen to your rambles about flowers, and little nonsenses...and he took it to heart, he remembered them...

Isn't that worth forgiving?

Bakugou's heart skipped a beat when he heard your sudden giggle. That soft and annoyingly endearing laugh of yours. His head snapped up, and he stared at you, his mouth slightly agape and eyes wide. 

Right at that moment, he was convinced he just had gone to heaven. Or an angel had gone down to earth and was now standing before him - either was a possibility - You left him speechless.

You stepped to the side, fully opening the door for him. It was an invitation to go inside, and he took it. 

"Midoriya told me you would come and try to apologize to me one day, " you said, opening a cupboard and pulling out a pot and a sack with dirt. Putting the flowers in the flowerpot, covering the roots with dirt and watering them. "You can take a seat if you want, no need to stand there."

Your back was towards Bakugou as you spoke. He grumbled under his breath, staring at the ground. Not daring to look up at you as he took a stool to sit down on.

Of course, that Deku would tell you that...

You took your time admiring the flowers Bakugou had given you. They were a beautiful purple-ish blue colour, you already knew they didn't come from just a flower shop. 

These beautiful babies still had their roots. No, they came from a farm, which meant he had gone through all that trouble to get them for you.

You felt your heart flutter inside your chest, taking a deep breath to steady yourself and prepare to face him and the questions he could and would definitely have. 

Bakugou could feel your nervousness radiate off of you as you faced him. 

This awkward tension was killing both of you - Bakugou wanted to high-tail the fuck out of there and he was convinced that you were thinking the same. He knew you well enough, so he could tell. 

Bakugou hated this. He hated being the reason why you were behaving this tense. He hated how he felt so many emotions but couldn't carry them over in the right way. 

He wanted to tell you so much: about the way you made him feel when your smile was directed at him. About the way you made him feel in general. He wanted to reach out and take you into his arms and never let go. But even as he felt that urge taking him over, he withheld himself. 

Bakugou didn’t feel he was deserving of that title which would give him the freedom to do so: to give you the attention and affection you deserve.  So instead he glared at his hands, hunching over to block you from seeing him.

You, on the other hand, were in conflict with your own mind. You wanted to explain to him that everything was alright, it was actually not his fault, to begin with. But knowing him he wouldn't accept such a lame and vague attempt at reassurance, no, he knew you wouldn't snap at him - or anyone for that matter - for no reason. You would either have to go all out and tell him everything. Or, keep it all to yourself and tell nothing, leaving Bakugou with the guilt for something he didn't do. 

You just couldn't do that to him. So you made your decision and went with the first option. You took a seat on your bed and you looked at him, giving him a calm, understanding smile.

"I am glad that you came to me sooner than everyone else thought. That means a lot to me." 

Bakugou's eyes widened slightly, lifting his head. He just stared at you.

You glanced towards his back, the smile on your face falling slightly. Emotions were swimming in your eyes which Bakugou couldn't place.

"I-I hope it doesn't hurt as much as it looked...S-sorry for throwing you back there...I've put too much strength behind it, I-"

"Tsk...It's fine..."

Bakugou cut you off before you could go on any further. He turned his head to the side because everything was better than looking straight at your hurt face.

"Didn't hurt that bad..." Bakugou mumbled under his breath, pressing his hand against his mouth. You almost didn't hear him. 

A relieved sigh left your lips. "I'm glad." You whispered and suddenly it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders. 

Bakugou glanced towards you, he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. He felt like an idiot. That smile of yours would be the death of him before any of the villains would get to him.

You were a weird one that's for sure, was it possible for you to have more than one quirk?

None of you said anything after that. The air was getting awkward again. Both of you could feel it. This was getting ridiculous.

"Thank you for remembering my rambles about flowers," you began, slowly letting go of your nerves. "I didn't think you would remember the meaning behind them, but you did. Thank you."

Bakugou grunted, resisting the urge to look away from you. "It's nothing-"

"It is! This means a lot to me! Flowers have always been a huge part of my mom's life. And flowers and their meanings were everything to her. A-and they mean a lot to me too..."

You spoke up enthusiastically, almost jumping in Bakugou's face in your excitement. 

Bakugou stuttered when you suddenly grabbed both of his hands as you rambled on.

"Ever since I was little, my mother taught me the symbols behind flowers and the passion behind them! I would always find blue cornflowers by my bedside when I got ill, as a wish for good fortune."

You practically had stars in your eyes as you spoke. "You see, when I was younger I used to have a very fragile immune system. I was sick all the time. It became even worse when my quirk manifested. Flowers always made me happy, and-and..."

You suddenly stopped, realising the position you were in, you jumped away as if Bakugou had burned you. Bakugou rose from his seat in an attempt to follow, his arm reaching out towards you in a longing manner. Before he acknowledged what he was doing, he let his arm fall to his side reluctantly.

This was harder than both of you originally had thought.

"I'm so sorry!” You murmured as you hastily tried to explain yourself, while furiously blushing and flailing your arms about “I just started rambling without thinking!"

You looked like a flustered tomato, Bakugou thought. Shit, that made you even more adorable.

He cleared his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets."Huh. Your immune system got weaker because of your quirk? What kind of weird shit are you talking about?"

He knew it came out rather curtly, as he tried to hide the abashment in his voice. He immediately regretted snapping at you like that, but you didn't seem to be bothered by it. Instead, you sat down again.

This was going to be a long story, Bakugou could tell by the way you looked at him. Open and trusting.

And it gave him a new sense of adoration towards you. Opening yourself to him with your past. Bakugou sat down on the chair without noticing it himself, waiting for you to start your story.

"You know that my quirk has to do with black all-destroying acid, and white healing ooze right?"

Bakugou nodded.

"Well,” you went on. “My own body creates those oozes. Though my skin is immune to the black acid, my insides are not." You sighed, touching the spot on your neck which looks more pinkish than the rest of your body. "My quirk is called inner yang-yin ooze. A quirk, which resembles the ying-yang symbol, yang; the symbol of female and devastation. Ying; the symbol of male and life. When my quirk manifested, I wasn't prepared for what was to come."

You shivered and took a moment before you went on again. 

"My insides were scorched, luckily a friend of ours with an erasure quirk stopped the yang ooze from scorching my insides. It does mean that I need to use my quirk constantly, covering the yang ooze with the yin. Sometimes I lose control over my quirk and some part of my body will be scorched." You explained, pointing towards the pinkish spot.

There was a short silence before you took a deep breath.

"So yeah...that's also the reason why I flipped out when you said that some of us were weak and 'if you couldn't control your quirk properly you were never meant to be here in the first place.' It brought some bad memories to the surface. It wasn't really your fault I got mad, but you just… triggered me, I guess." You concluded, fidgeting with your fingers as you waited for Bakugou to reply.

He was quiet, staring at you with wide eyes. You didn't know what to think...

But after a moment or two, Bakugou moved, hunching his shoulders and casting his eyes to the ground.

Fuck...fuck...

Bakugou felt like a moron, guilt seeped into his skin, like a shiver down the spine. He had no right to say stuff like that when he, himself never went through something like that. 

"Fuck..."Bakugou mumbled under his breath, pressing his hand against his face. 

Oh god, he had told you, you didn't belong here...

Bakugou felt his stomach churn at the thought, his thoughts quickly spiralling into an abyss of negativity. Each voice shouted at him, berating him for his ignorance and stupidity. Bakugou wanted to rip his hair out as the voices came at him without mercy.

They were deafening, drowning out everything else. And suddenly Bakugou wasn't in your room anymore, as it morphed into a prison of black nothingness.

Until suddenly the voices stopped...it all stopped, and Bakugou felt like he could breathe again. Your soft voice pulled him out of the black abyss and your touch brought him back to his senses. He was in your room again, curled into himself. You sat on your knees in front of him, your worried face close to his. His head cupped in your hands.

"Are you alright, Bakugou?" Your soft, concerned voice did things to him.

"Uh...Yeah..."

*(*)*(*)*

"Y/N...please...dammit Y/N...!"

You heard a faint voice in the distance, your head felt fuzzy. 

"...Why did you just run at that villain without thinking…!?"

Warm little droplets fell on your cheek.

"...Stop being so damn reckless Y/N...!"

T-this voice...why was it so familiar...?

"You think no one cares...b-but...I do, you damn idiot..."

You felt your conscious slowly slip away again, you felt something soft touch your forehead before sleep took you.

*(*)*(*)*

You groaned, slowly sitting up. 

"What happened...?" You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, getting rid of the sleepiness. The moonlight streamed through your window, illuminating the room in a white sheen. You were in a hospital bed. The nightstand was covered in 'get well soon' cards, they were from class 1-A. Your class.

One thing stood out more than the other things. It was a small vase, standing at the corner of your nightstand, Blue salvia, blue cornflowers and red tulips.

You immediately knew who gave these to you. 

Warm feelings fluttered inside your stomach, you smiled softly.

flower meanings: 

purple Hyacinths; (I'm sorry)

Blue cornflowers; (a wish of good luck/good luck charm)

Blue salvia; (I'm thinking of you)

red tulips; (declaration of love/ dedication towards you)

~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading, and keep soaring high!^^

_____

Bakugou taglist

@gliesewolff​

[albatris]

can you tell me abt your wip?

yes! it’s about cracks in the fabric of spacetime and loving your friends!

anyway my answer is yes, yes I can tell you, I have things that I’m capable of saying, sure, sure

I usually like my writeblr experience to be the “I’m just gonna ramble about characters and plot points with no context and if you wanna come along for the ride feel free to jump in whenever!” type more so than the “I am presenting to you a nice neat WIP and I am very careful with my words and I am trying to spark intrigue among future readers” type

so I don’t have any nice neat posts or beautifully worded synopses or detailed character profiles (edit! I do have some of these now!)......... what I have is an all-encompassing “ATDAO” tag that I throw all of my everything into with no rhyme or reason. it’s full of things such as art, brief excerpts, long-winded rambles, and spoilers!

but for now, I will speak to you a series of words, like so:

the story is called All The Doors Are Open!

it’s YA! sci-fi-ish! fantasy-ish! comedy-ish! I’m real bad at genres! it’s something I’d describe as “our reality but a little to the left”, though it gets progressively weirder and weirder as it goes on

it’s set in South Australia, n it’s set in a world where the fabric of reality is starting to unravel at the edges and cracks in the universe called “Ports” are cropping up..... n these cracks are letting in all sorts of whacked out energy, fuckin with physics, causing weird phenomena.......... basically reality’s comin' apart slowly but surely and everyone’s just sorta like “ah geez” about it but like. what can ya do. it’s not like all your normal people problems are gonna go away just ‘cuz the world is edging towards its inevitable weird doom

so people are just kinda going about their lives against this bizarre apocalyptic backdrop and hoping they don't, like, glitch through the sidewalk on their way to the supermarket

the story is about several people, and four of these people are:

Tris, panic attack in human form, who has just been the sole witness to a freak car accident that somehow caused his older brother to vanish from this plane of existence entirely

Noa, edgy intimidating badass, definitely hiding no insecurities or trauma at all whatsoever, who has just had a weird run-in with a Port and is discovering that she can now bend the reality around her

Shara, socially anxious paranormal investigator & conspiracy enthusiast, hunting the answers to and meaning of three strange events from her past in the hopes that they will lead her to the source of the apocalypse

and Kai, nonbinary force of chaos, struggling to deal with the emotional repercussions of losing seven years of their life to a time loop and the fact that their family thinks they died

and it’s mostly just about these guys trying to deal with the weird apocalyptic garbage happening to them alongside their everyday lives, and about how all their individual odd little mysteries connect with each other and form a bigger, odder mystery

here are some things about it that I like, and that you might like, but I don’t know you, so who knows:

the story is equal parts “absolute nonsense hijinks and ridiculousness that doesn’t take itself too seriously” and “oh fuck oh ouch oh no my heart”

every single main character ends up safe and happy and in a much, much, much better place than they started

there’s several mentally ill heroes, including one with psychosis and one with a dissociative disorder, whose mental illness/es aren’t ever used as a cheap plot twist or to go “OHOHO NONE OF IT WAS EVER REAL IT WAS ALL JUST IN THEIR HEAD THE WHOLE TIME HAHA GOTCHA” because ew

it’s full of weird glitchy unreality nonsense and general atmospheric weirdness, and I get to do lots of sick kickflips with words about it

there’s one cat named Leonardo DiCatrio and another named Ms Frizzle, and some scenes where various members of the gang get to hang out with a bunch of extremely excited huskies, so that’s nice

I’m forgetting what I’ve already mentioned

and what's important to mention

I’m going to end this list

oh!

all the themes are incredibly cheesy, such as self love, friendship, the goodness of humanity, the power of kindness and connection, believing in yourself, etc........ just some real good high quality cheese

somewhere in the recesses of the ATDAO tag there are character profiles, a plot explanation and also a comic sans powerpoint presentation in which I talk about it all in more detail, but it’s all very wordy, and some of it is outdated, you can go take a look if you like, I won’t link it here because I'm lazy, it will just be a fun quest you can go on should you so choose, I can provide a map and some snacks for the journey

also please note that my rambling text posts with horrid grammar are not indicative of my writing abilities when actually Writing A Novel

ur not getting nice prim proper articulate logan today, ur getting. well. me. hello

anyway that’s all I can say 4 now, thanks for the ask, love u, goodnight

[scrapyardboyfriends]

Sigh...actual spoilers for it. I’d almost convinced myself it wasn’t really going to happen.

Gonna tag it as “Aarons new sl” since that seems to be the norm and I don’t want to make people block too many tags.

I was gonna put this rambling nonsense under a cut to spare you but I still don’t have my laptop and my old one is a piece of shit that won’t even let me log into it right now. So...apologies.

I still don’t like it on principle. And I say this as someone who is not totally opposed to the idea of Aaron getting a new love interest. I’m not saying I’m going to ship it or that it will ever live up to the magic of Robron or even that I’m going to want to watch it (we’ll see) but I understand that the show must go on. I would just hope that they would do it well and the set up already makes me concerned. Especially as I do not trust this producer team to tell any kind of story about people interacting with their abusers/bullies even if said bully is a character I love.

I also still think they’d be better of building up Aaron’s character again first and increasing his character interactions before throwing him into any new relationship. I’d give him a friend before I’d give him a love interest. Even with Robert, he was getting to be too isolated of a character toward the end. I just didn’t care as much because I loved him and Robert together in all scenes. But part of what was great about his first run and early on in this one is that he had a ton of characters he interacted with and now it’s basically just well...no one cause he’s barely on but it’s really just Liv and Chaddy and sometimes Cain and even more sometimes Vic and I don’t think that’s beneficial for him. He needs more. He really needs a friend character that he can confide in about any potential new relationship and he doesn’t have that. I mean maybe since this guy is going to be working at Hide (honestly how many people need to work there?!) he will get to interact with Vic and Matty and Amy more?! I won’t get my hopes up but maybe.

I also still don’t love the idea of raking up his past again. We know this stuff happened. Why drag it up again? He’s long since moved past that behavior and self loathing. I don’t quite know what the story angle is here. We’ve already seen that growth. I’d rather see him take steps into the future rather than continue to only have past related stories.

I also just have a problem with bringing in a character specifically for him that is already so specifically tied to him in the past. Not that they’re ever going to recreate Robron, but part of what made them work is their equal footing as characters. And while they’re never going to get another character for Aaron with as much history as Robert, they can at least bring someone new in that is his own character first and not directly tied to Aaron instantly. I’m not saying it can’t work, just that they’re already at a disadvantage.

I mean I’m glad they’re going to actually give Aaron/Danny something to do again because he’s obviously been massively underused since January. Although I do thank Covid for delaying this for us for as long as possible and gifting us the Robron heavy lockdown episode.

I don’t know, I will give it a shot just because I have been watching the show again. But I’ll have to see if I can stomach it. It’s going to be very weird.

Really Ryan, you can come back any time. Gotta pay for that baby.

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 512

Looking for a way to spend Mother’s Day? Well, we here at Outlander have the perfect idea! Celebrate with the women you love by watching us gang rape grannie!

This episode is like the perfect storm of everything that is wrong with Outlander. The cast and crew saying it’s their strongest episode yet when it’s basically artsy gang rape. The CYA trigger warnings when the story would have worked perfectly well without including yet another rape. The kool aid-drinking fans yelling at and acting holier than thou at the fans who rightfully call out the massive problem this show has with rape and assault. The fans yelling at other fans because It’S iN tHe BoOk so it has to be included. The fans yelling at other fans for wanting to follow the books but not wanting rape every 0.5 seconds. The fans yelling at other fans to fuck off if they don’t like the show. The women in the cast throwing out trigger warnings while the men are radio silent or wanting the gladiators to face the plague and fight for their own amusement. It literally has everything.

And I am tired.

I’ve been in this fandom for six years and have had quite a journey. From first discovering the show and immediately devouring the books. The honeymoon period where I could headcanon out all the problematic bits. The getting deep into the fandom nonsense. The getting out of the fandom nonsense. The judging the fandom nonsense because it’s funny and they’re all idiots. The getting sick of the fandom nonsense because it’s not even fun to judge the dummies anymore. The becoming more and more aware that it’s impossible to whistle past the problems in the books and the show. The sticking around, holding out hope things might turn around and the initial magic could be recaptured. And finally, the giving up.

The books are trash. The show is trash. There are a handful of good scenes in each which can be enjoyed on their own, but as a whole, holy shit this stuff is not good. (Seriously, I tried to do a Fiery Cross reread before the season started. I started like a year ago and am still only at Jocasta’s wedding because I just don’t care enough to actually get through it.)

Which brings us here. I am tired. I have already ranted and raged and yelled and swore and wrote far too many words about the gratuitous overuse of rape in the Outlanderverse. It fucking has its own tag for fuck’s sake.

So here’s a recap. And then I think I’m done looking at this show in detail. Not because the idiot fans insist on coming to my notes to tell me to fuck off if I don’t like the show. Not because the crew are condescending douchecanoes. Not because the author is a misogynist garbage heap. But because spending an hour of my time for a few weeks out of the year to write these things isn’t worth it. I did it for as long as I did because it took so little time. So why not? But yeah, it’s not even worth that tiny commitment anymore.

And to the people who I know will @ me about how no one was forcing me to stick around and I could have quit any time, yeah, no shit captain obvious, I know that. Fuck off already. I stuck around because I really liked the little corner of the fandom that I’d found. I made some awesome friends. Most of those friends have since quit the fandom. I’m really glad to have them in my life outside of this little corner of the internet. And it was a fun writing exercise. I don’t really like the show anymore, but I enjoyed building an argument about why I don’t like it and think it’s bad that has valid points behind it. Especially considering how blindly overly adoring a bunch of the fandom is about it. But now I think I’d rather consume Outlander content as pretty people in pretty period costumes in gifsets. Or like, on in the background but not really paying close attention. Why not quit altogether? Because to quote the great Ron Swanson (I’m halfway through a Parks rewatch and I just love that show a lot ok.), I can do what I want. And besides, there’s like a fucking library’s worth of fics that I haven’t read and have been meaning to. And I like the characters enough to want to keep reading about them in stories that are better than the canon. (Bless you fic writers, blesssss.)

So. Was this whole ramble self-indulgent and overly serious for a fucking TV show? Absofuckinglutely. But please see the aforementioned Swansonism.

Alright, fuckos. Let’s do this.

This is a Roberts brainchild, isn’t it. *checks credits* Yup. Knew it. This feels very much like a Roberts special. In that he is probs quite pleased with himself but like, it’s crap.

Yes, we ARE doing ANOTHER rape story! But look! It’s a disassociation montage! It’s the ‘60s, get it?! There are callbacks! An orange from the king in season 2! A vase from season 1! A rabbit from season 3! An amber-looking dragonfly! Jamie with the young hair spouting off book lines! ApPrEcIaTe MuH aRt! We are so good at finding new and creative ways to rape our characters! Fuck off, twatwaffle. You are the worst.

Like, does Roger feel left out at this point? He’s only been hanged. Literally everyone else has either been raped, been sexually assaulted, or been threatened with rape and/or sexual assault.

“But it’s not gratuitous! Look! They’re all so different! Jamie’s was overly graphic and he got a half a season to brood about! We manged to not show much of Fergus’ (but still showed a thrust) because he’s a child and it was just a plot device for Jamie and not actually about him! Mary’s was about Fred! Claire’s with the king was about Jamie! Jamie’s with Geneva was shot like p0rn! Marsali being threatened by the sailors was to motivate Fergus! Bree’s was about the other people in the room and Roger! Claire’s really has no purpose because she’s already been kidnapped and beaten, and that is super traumatic, and we’re gonna wrap it up with a bow by the end of the episode!”

This fucking show, guys. This fucking show.

Bonus points* for the Black character spouting off the superstitious stuff.

*By bonus points I mean this show, and the books are absolute shit on matters of race. The books especially.

The cast and crew have 100% heard everyone’s thoughts on the overuse of rape in the Outlanderverse. And their response has been to include more and more of it. We had a whole season of one character’s arc being about her rape and literally as soon as that was resolved, they gang rape another character. It really does tell you as much as you need to know about them. Lazy. Fucking. Cowards.

Kidnapping not enough trauma? Let’s add some gang rape! Gang rape not enough trauma? Let’s add visualizing that your daughter and grandchild are dead! Just like Fred died! This show really brings trauma p0rn to a whole new level.

Called the Bree and Roger shit.

This scene with the men rallying to go save Claire is like another layer of fuck you. Bree, you stay home, men, give your hero lines and let’s have a getting ready montage. Because your hero moment is what this is really all about. And your manpain about killing someone. *screams into a pillow*

The petty side of me is happy that it was Fergus and Young Ian who are with Claire when they find her and not Roger. Her two sons...

Why yes, I am judging all of the fans who like get their panties all wet over Jamie being like “It is I who kills for her.” Like “yeah go ahead and rape and beat Claire within an inch of her life if it means the big strong man gets to come in and save her and say something intense.” Fuck off and go take a hard look at yourself and what that says about you.

“Was there an Indian there?” “Nope, he wouldn’t help you because LiOnEl but somehow was able to peace out when it was in his interest. Because he is as bad as the ones who actually raped you.”

The Bree and Claire hug makes me both sad and angry. I want to hug them both and take them out of this fucking place and tell them that they’ve been done dirty and deserved fucking better from the writers.

Glad Marsali gets in on the hug. Claire’s two remaining daughters.

Claire’s “I have fucking survived” speech is like the one time she she actually talks about herself not in relation to a man. It’s about her. Claire. HOWEVER! It is epically fucked up that a woman needs to check off all the trauma she’s endured to show she’s a strong character.

So. Fucked. Up.

The fact that we’re spending time on Roger’s manpain about killing someone also really tells us a lot about the show’s feelings toward women. Yeah, killing someone is a big deal. It’s normal and expected to have feelings about it. But the juxtaposition of Claire’s speech about all of her traumas with Roger being like yeah, I killed a guy who had kidnapped, beaten and raped your mom is like, read the room, bro/writers.

The fact that the men put Claire’s rapist in her surgery, her space, her place of healing, where she is able to be most herself, makes me want to punch each and every one of them in the throat. Like seriously. Fuck each and every one of them.

Also Lionel is like cartoonishly terrible. Not that nuance has ever been this show’s strong suit. But like come the fuck on.

Marsali killing Lionel is the one thing about this episode that I didn’t hate. The men are all like “We kill for Claire! Let’s all rally in this montage and go do the manly thing of defending the woman!” Marsali is just like, yeah, that’s my Ma you fucked with. She shows some agency. She doesn’t do it in a performative way for the other men or for Claire like the guys do. She just knows this fuck needs to die, knows it’s gonna be hard for her and might damn her soul (don’t worry Marsali, all that religion crap is bullshit), and does it anyway.

Marsali’s arc has been my favorite of this whole fucking series. The one bright spot I was hanging on to all of this season especially.

Her quick scene with Jamie doesn’t bother me like Roger’s does. Because Roger is like oh no, I killed a guy! Can you forgive me? For killing a rapist? Like fuck off, bro. And Marsali is like yeah, I killed a guy. I hope I’m not damned for it, but the guy needed to die so I did it.

Also like, Richard had potential to not be cartoonishly bad. But like nope. “He reaped what he sowed, but cLeArLy I’m gonna need to escalate this further. Because manly men can’t let shit go.”

Fuck all men, tbh.

*googles how to emigrate to Themyscira*

Jamie’s speech that’s like supposed to parallel Claire’s can fuck all the way off. Giving him the last voice over just underscores how this was all about men. Not Claire. But the men. Fuuuuck everything.

Look! Everything’s fine again! Back to normal! Peaceful for a bit! With a cheesy af on the nose storm coming! So you know something bad’s coming! In case you forgot!

And Jamie got a book line. So it’s all good now.

And don’t worry about Claire, y’all. She feels safe now. Her and Jamie fucked it out.

It’s amazing, in retrospect, that I ever let this story suck me in so much.

Happy Mother’s Day! See you on the other side of the hiatus.

[peace-coast-island]

Diary of a Junebug

A spooky midnight feast

What a long night - and I mean that in a good way! First the theatre, now it's the Spooky Moon Festival. We just enjoyed a spooky midnight feast hosted by Jack to kick off the festivities.

A couple days ago we visited Peace Coast Island to see Marlo and Don. Marlo’s an old friend from Rosevine who left home about six years ago to become an actress in New York City. Not too long after moving there, Marlo met Don, a journalist for News Times, and as of last year they became engaged.

Marlo is who some would consider a starving artist. While she has appeared in numerous commercials, soap operas, and stage shows, Marlo hasn't gotten her big break yet. She has always managed to get by with odd jobs in between sporadic gigs but it sometimes seems like she gets the short end of the stick. It's a shame because she really is a talented and versatile actress.

But it looks like Marlo's finally gonna get her big break with Sugar and Spice, a brand new musical comedy drama that just made its debut at Starlight Theatre. The show played for two weeks there and the next stop will be Port Beacon, followed by Etienne Falls, Glassenwick, Cabot Bridge, and Petunia. This isn't the first time Marlo's gone on tour for a brand new show, but in past experiences, the show turns out to be a bomb and the tour closes early. Though based on the reviews for Sugar and Spice so far - as well as my own thoughts on it - we have high hopes!

Tagging along with Marlo for the first leg of the tour is Don. Since Marlo went off on her first tour, Don has been tagging along to write a review for the show, so he gets work done and gets to spend some time with Marlo - a win-win situation for both. However, if the tour goes on for the full twelve weeks - or more if things go really well - that's gonna be the longest time the two have been apart from each other.

Instead of heading back to New York, Don's gonna be staying at the camp for a while. He's gonna write an article about the Spooky Moon Festival, which he plans to finish tomorrow to get that out of the way. Marlo was the one who suggested that he take some extra days off by visiting the camp to get his mind off things. It's so sweet how much they're gonna miss each other while Marlo's away.

I've met Don a handful of times since he and Marlo started dating. They're a sweet couple, like a comedic duo with Marlo being the funny one while Don's the straight one - they play off each other super well. Anyone who can keep up with Marlo's antics while having a great sense of humor is a winner. I can't wait for the day when they finally get married!

Considering how long they've been together, it was hard to believe that they almost broke up last year. Don spoke about the near breakup when he and Marlo appeared as guests on Garden Chats, a podcast about mental health, a couple months back. It's a really good episode that not only brings up interesting points about the stigma behind depression but also the strong bond Marlo and Don share. Don said that he was hesitant to do the podcast at first but in the end he was glad he did it.

How the two got together is a cute and funny story. Marlo had her first acting gig for an ad for a security system where she played a damsel in distress during a break in. Don was nearby and thought Marlo was in danger so he swooped in to save the day, only to be humiliated after getting yelled at by her and the crew. The poor guy was so caught up in helping someone in need that he failed to notice the cameras and other equipment that were clearly visible. After getting over the embarrassment, Marlo decided to take him out to dinner as she found him kinda cute and didn’t want to be responsible for him crawling under a rock and never ever seeing the light of day again.

For the next four years Marlo and Don hardly left each other’s side. Marlo’s dad often complains that every time he comes over to visit his daughter, her boyfriend’s always there - though over the years he’s warmed up to him. Likewise whenever Marlo comes home, Don usually tags along with her. I think it was Luciana or maybe Emmaline who said that sometimes they forget that Don’s not from Rosevine nor has he ever lived there.

In a way it’s kinda like an opposites attract sort of relationship. Don’s more serious and levelheaded while Marlo is more lighthearted and playful. She’s confident and ambitious, always jumping from one thing to another. He’s more of a go with the flow type, the one who picks and chooses his battles with consideration. He may come across as a no nonsense kind of guy sometimes, but he’s also a sensitive one. She may have a tendency to ramble on and attract trouble, but you have to admit her heart’s in the right place. Marlo gets in over her head while Don gets taken in for the ride. They compliment and contrast each other - sometimes even picking up each other’s traits over the years.

So imagine what was going through everyone’s heads when rumors started going around about the engagement being broken. Since there was never really a confirmation or a denial, no one really knew what was going on. At least for me and my circle of friends, while we were concerned, we knew it wasn’t our place to get involved in any way. Now that we know what really happened thanks to the podcast, I’m glad that the whole thing never really made the gossip mill.

The podcast that Don and Marlo did was hosted by Lessa, probably making it the first time I’ve ever listened to a podcast where I know the host and the guests on a personal level. Don spoke about how he was recently diagnosed with clinical depression and how he had suspected that something was wrong with him for a long time before that. Pressure from work and his engagement along with a bunch of other personal issues led to him getting cold feet and abruptly breaking things off with Marlo. With everything going on he suddenly found himself unable to cope so he ended up almost sabotaging the best thing to ever happen to him. Looking back, he felt that it was his way of punishing himself for not being happy enough despite having everything he could have ever wanted (and more) from someone he loved.

Marlo also spoke about the near breakup and how she began doubting herself when Don started pushing her away. When he told her that he couldn’t marry her, she couldn’t believe it. So she fought back, demanding an explanation and blaming herself. But because she loved him, Marlo knew that she couldn’t just stand there and watch Don slip into a downward spiral.

The “breakup” lasted for about a month, which was the longest Marlo and Don went without talking to each other. By then their friends had noticed a change in Don’s behavior as he was isolating himself from everyone and acting erratically. Marlo felt helpless but persisted and once Don realized that he wasn't all right, he turned to Marlo and her family for help. Since then their relationship has grown stronger.

It was interesting to hear them be so open and vulnerable about their struggles. If the whole conversation isn't proof of how much they care about each other, I don't know what is. I'm glad that Don's getting the help he needs and that Marlo's luck is finally changing.

As for the wedding, there's no set date yet but it's definitely happening. Though at this point they're pretty much like an old married couple, which is super cute. With everything going on in their personal and professional lives, they want to wait until things settle down before tying the knot. Daisy Jane, Andrea, Almie, and I are betting that the wedding's happening sooner rather than later - as in this year. Based on these past few days, it looks like we're not too far off the mark!

Marlo was absolutely fantastic in Sugar and Spice! From the catchy songs to the witty dialogue and relatable characters, it's no wonder that the play has been getting glowing reviews! Marlo stole the show, easily one of the highlights of the play. Unlike previous shows Marlo toured for, she's not stuck being the saving grace of a poorly executed script, something that she has been the victim of far too many times.

The show's about a group of friends who work at a bakery called Sugar and Spice. Marlo is Gingie, a newcomer who had just left home and rediscovers her love for baking through the bakery. There's a funny running gag of Gingie coming up with the most ridiculous cookie recipes that turn out good and leaving the kitchen in such a state of disaster in the process. It's a cute and funny show about a bunch of friends who like to bake.

In between shows, Marlo joined us at the camp. Most of the nights were sold out or didn't have enough seats for the camp, which was why we were unable to attend the first week. Once things got settled down with rehearsals and such, Marlo and Don were able to have some time for themselves at the camp. The two enjoyed picnics on various hangout spots, sightseeing near the mountains, and chilling at the beach.

We also helped Jack set up for the Spooky Moon Festival. Marlo was bummed that she's gonna miss it so Don promised to take a lot of pics for her. It's been great catching up with them and seeing them have fun together. They plan to return in the near future so that's something to look forward to!

The Spooky Moon Festival comes once every few years to celebrate the Spooky Moon. While helping out with the festival, I've learned a lot about the event. Basically there's a spooky looking moon that looks like it's covered in cobwebs that comes into view every four years. It looks super cool, like something out of a vintage spooky picture you see in old books. Everything about the festival gives off Halloween vibes and I'm really digging the aesthetic!

After seeing Marlo off, we got to prepping for the midnight feast. Don's been a great deal of help and it's nice getting to know him on a one on one basis. I think this is the first time I've hung out with him without Marlo. He's been enjoying the camp, which is great as Marlo didn't want him to worry about her too much. Like I said, it's sweet how much they watch out for each other.

At midnight, the festivities began! Making the food was a lot of fun, especially making everything look spooky and cool for the occasion. Decorating cookies was my favorite part as well as cutting out dough into fun shapes for the pies. It took a lot of prep time but the effort was so worth it - everything came out great!

Along with the food, we enjoyed listening to spooky stories, playing fun games, and looking at the moon through the astronomer's telescope. The Spooky Moon's a lovely view to see, made even better with good company to share it with!

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader -”What Death Tastes Like”

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; the young woman didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late. Y/N always had a fascination for the much older King of Gotham and despite the consequences, maybe it’s finally time to do something about it.

Part 2      Part 3      Part 4      Part 5

“Hi daddy,” Emma enters the kitchen and you follow, immediately greeting The Joker.

“Hello Mister J.”

“Pumpkin,” he acknowledges his daughter. “Miss Crane,” he growls at your presence and you can’t help it:

“I like your purple shirt Mister J; makes you look ravishing.”

“Oh yeah?” he scoffs, used to the 22 year old throwing this kind of stuff his way on a regular basis.

“Definitely!” you approach and point at his can of grape juice. “Can I take a sip?”

“Since when you like grape juice?’ The Clown Prince of Crime frowns but hands over the container anyway.

“I don’t,” you taste the sweet liquid and continue: “I just wanted to touch something your lips touched.”

“That’s a new one!” he rolls his eyes and snatches back his drink while Emma closes the fridge in a hurry, appalled you always flirt with her father.

“Keep her on a leash!” J advises his offspring and you snicker as she pushes you out of the kitchen.

“I can’t believe you say those things to him!” Emma gives you a nudge on the hallway, amused and horrified in the same time. “He could be your dad!”

“But he’s not,” you wink, dodging her grip. “He could be my daddy though!”

“You shameless jerk!!” she laughs and starts chasing you. “How dare you??!!”

“He’s really hot for being 40-ish!” the enthusiastic Y/N teases more, speeding up so she won’t get caught. “I’m going to marry him and I’ll be your step mom. You’ll have to call me mommy!”

“Whaaaattt??!!” Emma shouts and The King of Gotham shakes his head because he can still perceive your aberrations: the truth is he’s uncertain if that’s all they are, thus the dilemma J doesn’t care to solve regardless.

You quickly run into Emma bedroom and snatch a pillow in order to protect yourself from her attack.

“I love your dad!” you grin and she keeps relentlessly hitting you with her fluffy cushion, annoyed:

“I hate you!! I totally hate you!!!”

You suddenly start coughing and your best friend halts her rampage, concerned.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! Where’s your med?”

You pull the vial out of your jean’s pocket and she opens it while your cough intensifies; Emma fingers tremble at the sight of blood stains on the palm of your hand.

“Here, take this. Two?”

“Y-yes,” you struggle to talk and swallow the tablets, finding it difficult to calm down without the remedy you failed to ingest earlier before the worse happened.

“Come’ere,” she carefully sits you on the bed and begins wiping the red spots off your skin with a clean tissue. “There you go… Deep breaths, OK?” the young woman urges on the verge of crying: although she’s used to your episodes, she can’t cope with the thought of losing her best friend.

Scarecrow’s daughter might be only 22, yet the terminal lung cancer she was diagnosed with six months ago didn’t discriminate against her age; she didn’t show worrisome symptoms until it was too late.

“Better?” Emma analyzes your face and you can tell how upset she is, that’s why you try to distract her the best way you know how.

“Is your dad wearing a new cologne?”

“Huh?”

“He smells sooooo good, I swear I get this uncontrollable desire to kiss him all over,” you cough a bit more and she slaps your thigh, outraged.

“Would you stop it???!!!”

“I think he’ll miss me when I’m gone,” you playfully giggle. “Who else would flirt with an old man in his 40’s?!”

“Stupid girl…” Emma’s voice quivers since she doesn’t like to be reminded you’ll leave her. You both are silent for a few moments before she gathers the strength to continue the planned evening.

“I’m going to prepare you a nice, warm bath, then we’ll tag along with my dad at his Neon Devil club, alright?” she pouts and you don’t have the heart to admit you don’t feel like going out anymore.

“Sure… … sounds perfect,” you sigh and underline. “Only if I can spend some time alone with Mister Joker in the VIP section.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Emma concludes and you won’t quit.

“I didn’t say anything bad, you’re the perv for thinking indecencies regarding a man and a woman…alone… in the luscious VIP room… a few drinks… music blasting… attractiveness mooing to be unleashed…”

“Mooing???” she burst out laughing, forgetting she was about to admonish on your crazy ideas…again.

“Yup, mooing…” you proclaim with delight. “It’s a very sexy term, won’t you agree? … … Sexy like your dad!” you immediately blur out and stomp towards the bathroom while she hunts you down with the only purpose of shutting down the outpour of nonsense flowing out of you.

***************

Neon Devil Club, 10:36pm

“Are you going to dance?” Emma’s red cheeks pop up next to you.

“No, not tonight. Don’t worry, I’m having fun!” you point at the two empty cocktail glasses in front of you, still working on your third one. “I think I might call it a night soon, I’m tired.”

“OK, Y/N. Let me know when, we’ll both go!” she yells over the deafening tune.

“Stay and have fun, I can get a ride!” you glare at The Joker sitting at the bar a few inches away from you, totally absorbed by his text messages.

“Are you sure?” Emma hesitates and you poke J’s arm in order to get his attention.

He finally looks up and his daughter pleads:

“Daddy, can you take Y/N back to our house when she’s ready? I want her to be there when I return, this way we can gossip after the wild intercourse I’m gonna have with one of these lucky guys!”

The Clown Prince of Crime stares at her, displeased with the comments.

“Hilarious,” he growls and she jumps up and down, excited to see Bane’s son in the crowd.

“Don’t get mad, daddy!” she pecks his cheek. “I’m joking… Maybe…” Emma chuckles at his grumpiness and you are proud of her achievement in mocking the forever serious Joker: despite the nickname, the green haired menace is not the epitome of joyfulness.

“Are you supposed to have alcohol with the medications you’re taking?” he gestures at your cocktail.

“Nope,” you serenely confess and guzzle down more. “I’m a burden to my father and he doesn’t even know it,” you sniffle and J senses something strange about your affirmation. “He locks himself in the lab for days, researching on ways to overcome my terminal cancer. Did you know Evelyn left him two weeks ago?” you ask and The King feels cornered; you’re probably tipsy and in mood to chat while he’s not. “She’s perfect for him and he let her go… He would ignore her for days, immersed in his ridiculous project of saving me. The amazing Doctor Crane can’t take the hint this is a battle he won’t win. I made peace with what’s happening to me, but he can’t...,” you wave at the bartender for another glass. “Why won’t my father accept the inevitable outcome?” the pain in your tone prompts J to mutter:

“He just tries to postpone the inevitable.”

“I’m grateful for his help,” you ramble on. “I take remedies he makes for me and it’s nice to avoid the traditional chemo and losing my hair. I don’t look like I’m dying, correct? If you wouldn’t weren’t aware of my illness, you couldn’t tell, right?”

“Yes,” The impatient Joker signals the bartender to halt mixing your fresh drink; in his opinion you had enough.

“I got my test results this morning, “ you disclose, pouting. “They’re bad…” Y/N inhales the rest of her liquid courage and taps on the marble counter, disappointed at her own statement. “Did you ever taste death?” the weird question makes him taunt.

“Naahhh.”

“This is what it tastes like,” the heartbroken Y/N softly kisses The Joker and his remark hurts more than her disappointing routine evaluation:

“Strawberry margarita?”

You hop off your high chair so fast he realizes you’re flustered; it was the first time you kissed him, not that kind of kiss anyway and he completely dismissed your candor in the worst possible way.  

“Can we go please?” you intensely glare at your sandals and J opts out of attempting to patch up his callous reply; possibly the best decision regarding these circumstances simply because it doesn’t affect him at all.

“Sure, we can bail,” he grumbles and escorts you out of the club, wondering if you are done talking about matters of no importance to him.

****************

The master bedroom is cracked opened and you knock until The Joker bothers to acknowledge your existence.

“What is it?”

You sneak inside, adamant to request a tiny favor.

“Can I watch TV in here?”

“Why?” he wiggles in the middle of his bed, certainly not thrilled at your proposal.

“I won’t inconvenience you, ok?” you evade his inquiry and still being a bit tipsy briefly aids your plan; your drag your feet to the humongous mattress, then slip inside the purple sheets at the edge of the bed. “You know… If I would have lived longer, I bet you would have married me,” you gaze at the man relaxing close to your body.

The Joker nonexistent eyebrows go up so high it’s possibly a new record: why did Emma have to stay at the club instead of distracting you from whatever the hell this is?!

“We would have had at least 4 kids…” you continue your story. “ I’m young so every two years I could have been convinced to get pregnant; we would have had a small army of little Jokers and Y/Ns… I picked a few names already, would you like to hear them?”

“NO!!” he sucks on his teeth, irritated.

“Hmm…” you get discouraged yet it doesn’t last. “ You would have died at 65…”

“Why would I die at 65?!” J interrupts and his interest gives you a boost of much needed confidence.

“Car accident; you’re a shitty driver,” you lift your shoulders up, instantly correcting your sentence. “I meant reckless.”

The Clown Prince of Crime huffs and the fact that he engaged into this monologue of yours hopefully suggests he won’t chase you away until you finish.

“After your demise I would have mourned you for a decent amount of months, then I would have remarried a guy my age, this way I’m not in any danger of becoming a widow for the second time. I would obviously have our children too so not to worry, I would have survived without you.”

“Awesome, I was anxious you won’t overcome the grief,” his sassiness triggers your approval.

“Indeed; yet I have to warn you: if you ever cheated on me, I would have asked my father to create a special virus to obliterate you from the face of the planet!”

“Why are you shouting?!” The Joker scratches his chin, confused about your attitude.

“Sorry,” you take it down a notch. “I always get emotional when I think about this part…”

“Is this soap opera of yours almost done?” the impatience emerges; I suppose you tested his composure enough.

“I really like you,” you cut off his vexation. “You should be happy a young woman would crave an older man in his 40’s or 50’s,” you snort while adding to his growing restlessness.

“I think it’s time for you and the alcohol in your system to take a nap!” J hints at your departure and you abruptly bring it up since he’s basically throwing you out:

“Do you like me? You never get mad or chase me when I flirt with you…” you scoot over and cuddle next to him.

“What are you doing?!” J gets pissed at your boldness.

“I’m cold,“ you lie without a problem and he’s done with the dumb night he had to put up with so far.

“Get out!” The King of Gotham snaps and his sudden aggressiveness throws you off.

“I want to stay and watch TV; I promise I’ll be super quiet from now on. Cross my heart and hope to die!” you smile and your silly pun doesn’t have the outcome you hoped for.

“You know why I indulge a shallow brat’s idiotic flirting?!” he raises his voice and you shrivel because you realize he won’t utter anything nice at this point. “Who wouldn’t feel sorry for a walking corpse, hm? Despite what people think, I’m not that insensitive!”

You gulp and slowly roll out of bed, trying not to cry in front of him; you don’t remember sensing a stronger pain in your life, not even after you got sick.

“You’re so mean, “ you whisper and can’t stop the first tears streaming down your face. “I wouldn’t have married you anyway,” you rush out of the master bedroom and The Joker reprises his movie, undisturbed at the events he created out of spite.

“Fuck…” he mumbles when it hits: Emma will chew him alive if she finds about his behavior; would you mention this to her? Or she would guess something went wrong if you depart from the mansion when she asked you to stay? The only person that counts is bound to make him rethink his awful actions; his daughter wouldn’t forgive him unless he patches up things. Might as well get it over with before he lands in hotter waters.

“Uggghhhh,” The Joker puckers his lips and contemplates his choices: not too many, thus he ends up in front of your bedroom 10 minutes after the fight.

He can discern your sobbing and opens the door without knocking because another human’s privacy is simply not his issue. You are standing by the windows and turn towards him, mad you didn’t lock the entrance.

“Your company is required in the master bedroom,” J elaborates on the subject and Y/N’s silence evokes a faint apology. “I don’t think you’re a walking corpse… … …”

No reaction.

“Come on, let’s watch TV in my room…”

“Why would you need a shallow brat’s idiotic company?” you blow your nose in a tissue and emphasize. “I don’t want your pity.”

“Crane’s a genius but the trait is clearly skipping a generation,” his way of attempting to restore the mood totally sucks. “It’s not pity.”

“What is it then?” you wipe your tears and he has no clue himself.

“Not…pity.”

Are you debating on his offer?

“Come on,” J grabs your hand and your resistance works a miracle nonetheless. “I’m sorry, alright? Not a word to Emma, deal? Or your dad, he would probably create a goddamned virus to exterminate me from this planet. Don’t laugh, it’s not funny,” he sulks, crabby at the idea of being killed for offending Scarecrow’s princess.

“I won’t…” you promise and you’re actually surprised when he lifts you up, guiding your legs around his waist.

“You can sleep in my bed if you want to… until Emma gets back,” The Joker recommends and you hide your astonishment the best way you can.

“Sleep like in dozing of or…?” you wish to determine and the response doesn’t fail to deepen the mystery:

“As I said, genius sometimes skips a generation.”

The King strolls out of the bedroom with Y/N clinging to him while he lifts her higher in his arms, closing his eyes when she kisses him.

And the only thing The Joker can think of for the moment is that if death tastes like this, it’s not the worst way to go.

Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Ao3 and Wattpad under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[maedarakat]

Storms

————————————————-

“What is that?”

Normally Dagur never interrupted Boynut when he told one of his humorous anecdotes. Hiccup’s friend could be rambling and nonsensical at times, but he liked the rider’s voice.

He’d made an exception this time however, pointing at the strip of skin across his stomach that Tuff’s shirt was showing. He’d stretched his arms out wide, trying to convey just how big around the boar in his story had been.

Tuff stopped mid-sentence, realizing, and hurriedly dropped his arms, adjusting the shirt so it covered him. He wasn’t wearing his usual tunic and belt today, just a loose blue shirt and his leggings.

The Twins and Fishlegs had been assembling their winter gear from Berk and had returned to the Edge just an hour ago, far later than they were due to arrive.

Their arrival had been oddly tense and weird - Fishlegs had immediately apologized for their lateness before Astrid could demand what happened, saying that he’d been stuck choosing which books and how much ink and parchment to take. Ruff had been the very image of calm before a storm, hand on her brother’s arm, and Tuff had simply looked exhausted.

He was more animated now, with some food and warm mead inside him, and to all appearances it had just been the long ride that explained his earlier solemn mood. However, the glimpse of skin Dagur had just seen was dark and mottled. Something was wrong.

“What? Is it the color?” Tuff asked, redirecting. “I know, it doesn’t look as good on me as green. My tunic got covered with dragon slobber.”

It was a lie. The others did not appear to pick up on it, giving sympathetic groans. Snotlout commiserated by bringing up how badly Monstrous Nightmare drool stained in comparison to the drool of other dragons.

“Guys, come on, it’s not a competition,” Hiccup sighed.

“Shut up, Hiccup,” the others retorted amiably in unison. Hiccup grumbled but leaned back in his chair, scratching Toothless under the chin.

Fishlegs countered by reminding everyone that Gronckle saliva actually burned holes in things, and as things started to heat up in the dragon slobber fandom, Dagur caught sight of Tuff slinking back toward the kitchen area of the Clubhouse.

He excused himself after a moment and went into the kitchen, casually getting himself a mug to pour mead out of a barrel. Tuff wasn’t making himself any food or drink, just lurking in a dark corner. He startled when he saw Dagur but held still and said nothing, clearly hoping he went unnoticed.

It was a far cry from how friendly the boy usually acted, enough that Dagur set down his mead without drinking any and turned to face him. “You okay, Tuff?”

Tuff looked like he was ready to jump out of his skin. “I’m fine,” he almost snapped, arms crossed over his chest. “Everything is fine.”

It was clearly not.

When Dagur reached out to put a calming hand on his shoulder he flinched.

Tuff didn’t ever flinch from contact - not even from him.

Shocked, Dagur didn’t take back his hand, instead pulling him close into a worried bear hug, though gentler than the breath stealing squeezes he often inflicted on his ‘little brother’. Tuff froze tensely but didn’t jerk away or protest.

“What’s wrong?” Dagur asked firmly.

“Nothing,” came the muffled reply, though Tuff was starting to tremble. Eventually he leaned in, hiding his face against Dagur’s shoulder and returning the embrace.

“There he is,” Dagur teased gently, feeling some relief. “Where’d you go, Boynut?”

“Sorry,” Tuff sniffled. “Not trying to be a jerk, I just - I got in a bad fight. At home.”

He hadn’t been a jerk, but Dagur’s main concern was what he’d said after that. He let Tuff go, allowing him to pull back if he wanted. Tuff did, though he stayed close. “At home? Someone from home hurt you?”

Tuffnut faltered, then walked it back, sounding frantic. “I didn’t say I was hurt. It was just a bad fight. Dad said some words and Ruff stood up for me, then he said something about her and I threw a mug at him. Hard.”

Dagur remembered the red and darkening purples he’d seen across the boy’s stomach. “So you hit him with a mug and he whaled on you?”

“No. I missed him completely and it shattered. But it was his favorite mug that grandma got him.” Tuff sounded both proud and horrified at his transgression. Dagur put his hands on Tuff’s shoulders gently. He winced but this time leaned toward Dagur instead of flinching.

“What happened after the mug broke?”

Tuff bit his lip, going pale. “He got up.���

It was all Tuff could seem to say and perhaps all he needed to.

Dagur put an arm around his shoulders. “Okay. So when you guys visit Berk again for a holiday, could I come with you?  I’ve been thinking, I’ve never met everyone’s parents. Next time I think I’ll tag along to your home and meet the Thorstons.”

Tuff looked up at him, considering that. “Well, our mom would like you. She said we actually have some Berserker blood in our family. She didn’t tell me who though.”

“Really? I’m not surprised, you two definitely have some Berserker traits. Your insane bravery for one. And your amazing traps, remember when you booby trapped the whole island after we kidnapped Ruff?”

A fond grin appeared on Tuff’s face. “I do. You talk about it a lot, especially when you’ve been drinking. I think one time you may have cried.”

Dagur burst into embarrassed laughter. “Right. That was a lot of mead.” He pulled Tuff a bit closer. “Not gonna lie, I’m glad I’m on your side now, so I don’t have your destructive genius aimed at me.”

“What makes you think you’re safe from that?” Tuff snickered but he was grinning as he said it and finally relaxed. He leaned into Dagur, shoulder and side pressing against his. “So I’m taking you home to meet my parents next month when the storms let up? Is that what we’re doing?” Tuff’s tone was playfully sultry.

“Yep,” Dagur said, face turning a bit red but going with it. “Gotta let them know my intentions toward their son.”

That sent Tuff into a blushing fit but he soldiered on. “You’re going to ask Papa for my hand?”

“And he’s going to say yes and offer to pay for the wedding, right before he passes out in my Berserker chokehold,” Dagur said matter-of-factly, and Tuff wheezed, covering his face and almost beet red.

“Okay,” he managed to squeak through his fingers. “Awesome.”

He was comfortably leaning against Dagur, who took the opportunity to wrap an arm around him again. Tuff relaxed, taking his hands away from his face and allowing the touch without further comment.

For a few moments neither of them spoke, realizing their exchange might have a little more weight to it than either of them had given thought to.

“They say arnica’s good for bruises,” Dagur suggested finally. “I’ve got some salve in my bags - I use it on Shattermaster’s wing every morning. He’s been recovering quickly. You want some?”

Tuff nodded, uncharacteristically quiet and still blushing.

Dagur released him from the embrace and led him to Fishy’s hut where he was staying for the storm period. Tuffnut remained at his side the whole way there, close enough to almost trip him, like a puppy underfoot. It was adorable.

Once inside, he picked up his bag, rummaging around for the tin of salve and hoping he didn’t leave it all the way back at the stable. He heard Tuff sit down on the pallet of blankets and furs that Fishlegs had laid out for his Berserker guest.

“Is he taking good care of you? Fishlegs?”

“Yeah, he’s a good host. We’re morning meditation buddies, and he makes some really good herbal tea. Very cleansing.” His hand found the right shape and he pulled the salve out triumphantly, tossing the rucksack back into the corner.

Tuff had laid down across the pallet, looking thoughtfully up at the ceiling, his legs crossed. “Okay. Well, if he wasn’t a good host, I was going to tell you he keeps all the snacks his mom sends him in the upper left cabinet behind some books.”

Dagur snorted, amused he’d just told him anyway. He sat down on the bed, opening the tin. “I can help you put some on if you’d like me to.”

The blond rider looked at him a moment and then nodded, sitting up to take off his shirt. Dagur at once realized the reason why he had worn the shirt loose without a belt - this wasn’t just a few bruises. Wide swaths of dark red and purple wrapped around his ribs and shoulders. His back was the biggest mess of stripes, and Dagur could see older scars - from past ‘fights’ - faded beneath. Dagur swallowed.

“What did he use on you?” he asked neutrally, scooping some salve out and sitting behind Tuff to spread it across the inflamed skin. Inside him something was boiling over with dark rage but he kept his voice and his movements calm for Tuff’s sake.

“The strap for his shaving razor,” Tuff muttered. “He got the drop on me so it was easier to just hold still. If I lay still it’s over faster.” He furrowed his brow, looking angry at himself for saying that aloud. “Sorry -“

“It’s okay.”

“I sound pathetic,” Tuff argued.

“You do not. Getting hurt by family is way worse than getting hurt by strangers, because it’s not supposed to happen.” Dagur moved his hair aside, draping it forward over his shoulders so he could get the hand-sized bruise on the back of his neck. He rubbed the salve gently across it, listening carefully to make sure he wasn’t hurting him.

“Everyone gets punished by their dad once in a while,” Tuff dismissed. “I’m a trouble-maker, I get extra.”

That sentiment bothered him. Tuff shouldn’t be accepting this sort of treatment, no matter what he’d done. “I made a lot of trouble. Would it have been okay if my dad had beaten the crap out of me?” Dagur asked pointedly.

Tuff’s shoulders stiffened under his hand. “No! It wouldn’t ...” Stricken, he looked anxiously back at him over his shoulder. “Oswald didn’t ever, did he?”

“No. He didn’t,” Dagur answered quietly. “He would talk to me and make me understand what I did wrong, and I would either feel ashamed or I wouldn’t. But he never beat me.”

The worst thing Oswald had ever done was disappear, but that was a different kind hurt. He hadn’t meant to never come back, hadn’t meant for Dagur to feel like an unlovable monster whose own father didn’t want to be near him anymore.

Tuff’s dad though? That man had definitely meant to hurt him.

And judging by the blond’s sagging shoulders and look of quiet devastation, he was starting to accept that it wasn’t normal.

Dagur spread the salve everywhere he saw discoloration, then coaxed Tuff to turn around so he could get his chest and arms. He said nothing about the tear tracks on the rider’s cheeks, but they made him want to pay Berk a little visit before the storms landed and unleash some thunder and lightning of his own.

Tuff leaned into his touch as Dagur‘s fingers traced over his skin. One hand went up to move his hair again, intending to drape his braids across his back so he could get to his collarbone but it got lost and cupped his face instead.

Hitching, Tuff nuzzled his palm and kissed it and that was honestly all he needed.

Dagur capped the salve and tossed it aside on the bed, gathering Tuff against him and kissing him firmly.

The trickster kissed back enthusiastically, his long limbs wrapping around him tightly. When they came up for air, Tuff clung to him still, nuzzling his throat. He was shaking. Murmuring in concern, Dagur hugged him closer.

“You aren’t going to have to face him alone again,” he promised, kissing Tuff’s forehead. “Neither you or Ruff.” He kissed along the bridge of Tuff’s nose, caressing his face. “I’ll put the terror of Dagur into him.”

Tuff melted against him, grey eyes soft. “You don’t have to, you know. He’s got lots of mugs. Maybe one of these days, I’ll actually nail him with one.”

“Tuff,” Dagur sighed with exasperated affection. He cupped the rider’s face and kissed him. Later would be a talk about thinking better of himself.

For now, they were in his bed and together, while outside the storm-winds began to howl.

[franklyshipping]

Day 8 ~ Christmas 2019 Ego Fanfics

Day 8 here we are holy moly! Now, festive times can bring along unwanted stress, so let's get rid of some of that today! LET'S DO IT!

TAGGING: @googlee-oliver

There are so many ways to give someone that you love a gift, and I personally am always honoured at the thought of someone even thinking about wanting to get me something. Something that’s always particularly special though, it’s when someone decides to hand-make a gift for one of their loved ones, I just find it so precious. Especially since making a gift for someone can be so difficult, certainly more difficult that regular crafting. You always want it to be completely utterly perfect, and you get paranoid and scared if you don’t get something exactly right and it takes at least 10 attempts to make something you think is even half decent.

Of course, sometimes this can be quite stressful….and sometimes, getting a little help can make things all the better. I regret to say that someone was experiencing sad stress right now, but you need not fear, because a certain little green glob was on a mission to find someone who could ease the stress and frustration….of Goopiplier. Gooper was speeding down corridor after corridor, just looking for somebody, anybody, who could help the poor guy….and Gooper ended up bumping into the ankle of the perfect person.

‘Wohoah! Whehere are you off toho in such a hurry?’

Oliver, the yellow Google facet, giggled as he looked down at Gooper, before crouching down so he could pet his back softly. Gooper relished in the affection for a few moments, before remembering his purpose. He bounced and gurgled intently to the android, who immediately furrowed his brows in concern.

‘Goop is upset and he needs someone’s help?! Where is he? Can you take me to him?’

Gooper eagerly yipped, before hurrying back the way he came with Oliver following quickly behind, his mind racing with worry as he hoped that Goop wasn’t panicking too much. Either way though, Oliver was resolute on helping, whatever the problem was. Gooper halted at Goop’s bedroom door, motioning to it…and Oliver could feel his own emotions building when he heard wet, muffled sobs coming from inside the room. Oliver smiled gently down at Gooper.

‘It’s okay bud, I’ll take it from here.’

Gooper mewled and nuzzled Oliver’s ankle as a thank you, before vacating. Oliver then turned his attention to the door, which was slightly ajar, before deciding to carefully push it open.

‘Goop?’

Oliver spoke softly so the man wouldn’t be startled, and thankfully he wasn’t. Oliver caught a quick glimpse of the man’s face before he tried to hide it, he had a slime-esque beard as always, but his eyes were puffy and there were tears and snot on his face from all the crying he’d clearly been doing. Goop gulped before trying to speak in a stammer free voice….which unfortunately he didn’t quite manage.

‘Hey Oli uh…l-look I’m uh…d-doing a Christmas g-g-…g-gift thing so uhm…c-c-…u-uhm…’

Oliver’s android heart broke at hearing Goop whimper and seeing him tremble from how upset he was, and he immediately came up to him and placed a gentle hand on his arm.

‘Oh Goop, what happened? You can tell me, it’s just you and me here, and I won’t tell anyone else if you don’t want me to….’

Oliver spoke in a gentle, reassuring voice…and it was that kindness that caused the last dam to break in Goop’s mind. His words were rambles as he turned to the sweet android, and his emotions just ran from his lips like a raging river.

‘I-I-I t-tried t-to make W-Wilford a p-pretty p-p-present b-but i-it’s useless a-a-and stupid and I-I kn-know he’s gonna hate it a-a-and think i-it’s worthless a-a-and h-he’ll h-hate me!’

Goop sobbed into his hands, sniffling as his whole body seemed to shake with his panicked upset; needless to say, Oliver was quick to act. Different people are cheered up by different things, sometimes it’s a light-hearted joke that shines through the dark crap, sometimes it’s soothing words, sometimes it’s the opportunity to vent, and sometimes it’s physical contact. Oliver had made it a secret project and find out and file away exactly what soothed each and every one of the egos, and thankfully he knew what Goop needed. A damn tight hug and the opportunity to just cry it all out.

‘Hey…hey it’s okay, I’ve got you. Just let it out Goop, just let it all out…’

Oliver wrapped his arms around the weeping man, holding him close to his chest with one hand rubbing his back and another hand buried gently in his hair. At first, Goop was inclined to protest, but as soon as he felt Oli’s warmth he just couldn’t pull away. He sobbed into Oli’s chest for a while, he was just so stressed and nervous that it just became too much for him. He’d never been a part of a family like this wherein he could give anyone any gifts, so this was a seriously big deal for him. Also, Wilford was like his idol; he was charismatic, talented, and didn’t care if he was seen as weird by others, he just owned it. That’s why it was so important for Goop to get this gift right.

‘I-I j-just….I-I-I wanna m-make this p-perfect….’

He stuttered still, but his sobs had died down thanks to Oliver’s affection and patience. The android smiled softly into Goop’s shoulder, rubbing his back as he replied in a soft voice.

‘I get, I really do. Sometimes with these things you just work on them so much that it makes it hard to see just how good they are, sometimes you need another pair of eyes to see the perfection…’

They slowly parted from the embrace, and Oliver smiled up at Goop now as he continued.

‘I could be that other pair of eyes, if you like?’

Goop nibbled his bottom lip nervously…he was still so scared of what he made being terrible, but on the other hand he really trusted Oliver, he was one of the kindest and most honest people ever; Goop knew that if anyone was going to make him feel better about this whole debacle, it would be the android of sunshine.

‘….o-okay….okay I’ll show you….’

Oliver’s smile widened, he couldn’t deny that he was excited to see what Goop had been working on for Wilford; Oliver knew that Goop had a talent for crafting, so the android had a really good feeling about this in his core. Goop led him over to a little work bench he had in his room, and moved a metal bucket aside….and Oliver’s eyes widened. Goop had, somehow….made a lava lamp from scratch.

‘Is….did you MAKE a lava lamp?’

Oliver’s mouth and eyes were wide as he took a closer look, whilst Goop fiddled with his fingers nervously.

‘U-Uh…yeah uhm, well, I-I’ve tried to….’

It was the most beautiful thing that Oliver had ever seen in his entire life. The lava lamp was a good thirty centimetres high and about fifteen centimetres in diameter, it had been crafted absolutely gorgeously. The lighting sequence transitioned through a sequence of pinks into purples, with a hint of magenta at points too, and the movement of the lava-slime substance was beautifully slow and hypnotic. What’s more, the heat it radiated was nothing short of comforting, it wasn’t too overwhelmingly hot, just a soothing, radiant warmth; oh also, the lava-slime clumps were embedded with silvery glitter. Oliver let out a soft gasp as he looked back to Goop finally.

‘This is so…just….I-I don’t know how to describe it! Beautiful isn’t a good enough word for it! The substance moves so smoothly up and down, the colours of light are so soothing and fit so perfect with Wilford! Plus, he’ll adore the fact that it’s, y’know, a lava lamp! I know he’s going to adore it!’

Goop blinked a few times in shock, having to take a minute or so to process all the praise he was being given. Oliver….thought it was better than good. Goop developed a wobbly, happy smile, letting out a light residual sniffle as he mumbled.

‘Y-You really think that?’

Oliver grinned as he nodded eagerly.

‘Heck yeah! It’s so cool, I really mean it!’

Goop’s smile widened, before he looked down to the floor, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Ahaww shucks….’

Oliver let out a fond giggle.

‘Don’t you start crying again on me mister!’

Goop blushed at that.

‘I-I won’t I won’t-‘

‘Oh! Speaking of which, what kind of friend am I if I don’t clean you up?’

Goop blinked a few times, before his blush darkened as Oliver tilted his head up and started wiping and dabbing softly at his eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief.

‘Y-You don’t have to-‘

‘Nonsense, I want to! Plus, those tears might ruin your slime beard and we CANNOT have that!’

Goop let out a giggle, which warmed Oliver’s core so much, Oliver was much happier seeing Goop smiling instead of being so morose and disheartened. Oliver took his time drying away Goop’s tears and softly dabbing against his puffy skin, being careful to make his fingers a tad cooler so that the skin would feel soothed. However, that little giggle that Goop had let out was somewhat stuck in Oliver’s mind…and Oliver came to the logical conclusion that in order to help maintain Goop’s cheered up state, a state of mirth should also be involved. Oliver’s eyes gleamed for a moment, before he casually spoke.

‘Oh my! How did you get tears behind your ears?’

Goop furrowed his brows…what? For a moment he was seriously worried that Oliver was shorting out or low on charge, but he soon realised what Oliver was doing….when his nimble fingers skittered behind both his ears. He let out a wide eyed squeal and jumped away from the android, blushing rather red already as he stuttered in a very cute manner.

‘D-Dohon’t even think about it!’

Oliver giggled, and tucked his handkerchief away as he softly stepped towards Goop with a playful grin in place.

‘I just wanna make sure you’re all cheered up-‘

‘Y-You don’t need to tickle m-me to do that!’

‘Ohhh but I think I DO!’

Goop squealed and gasped when he was suddenly tackled to the floor by the, ultimately far stronger, android who wasted no time in straddling his hips and pinning his arms under his knees. Oliver let out a content sigh, before cooing.

‘Now, where was I?’

Oliver didn’t wait for an answer before he went back to skittering behind Goop’s, very adorable, ears which made Goop burst into spluttery giggles and snorts.

‘Pfthfttth-hehehey! Stahahappit yohohou ahass stahahappit!’

Oliver giggled, internally squealing at how adorable Goop looked as he tossed his head from side to side, he was so precious. Oliver’s nails were very precise as they stroked right in the crooks behind Goop’s lobes, all the while Oliver grinned and crooned.

‘Awww you look so much happier already, how could I possibly stop?!’

Goop squealed and kicked out reflexively, biting his bottom lip as he tossed his head about as much as he could, but Oliver was just too damn good at this. Usually if Goop got tickled, people never went for his ears because most people didn’t want to get part of his gooey beard on themselves, so that tickle spot always remained safe…until now of course.

‘Ihihihit tihihickles soho bahahad!’

Oliver fondly rolled his eyes.

‘Nooo! Really?! Well now that IS a revelation!’

Goop snorted, attempting to glare up at Oli through his flustered grin.

‘Shuhuhut uhuhup!’

Oliver grinned, his tongue poking out through his teeth cutely as he let his fingers traipse down away from Goop’s ears, now occupying themselves with softly trailing up and down his arms. Oliver smiled softly as he looked down at Goop.

‘You know, I don’t think I will. I’m really enjoying tickling you y’know, and that just makes me wanna talk even more! I wanna talk about how pretty your grin is, how sweet your giggles are, how cute your blush is! And ESPECIALLY how adorable it is when your goopy beard wobbles when you laugh!’

Goop’s eyes widened with embarrassment as he spluttered, caught between shaky giggles and utter speechlessness as all the teasing compliments built up in his brain. He’d never been complimented this much in his life, nor had he ever been teased this much in his life, and the intense combination of the two was just making him crumble into a flustered mess.

‘Ohogod-p-plehease just sh-shush! I-I c-can’t…’

He trailed off with a soft whine as he flicked his gaze away from the android, and Oliver felt like he was going to melt right there and then at how his teasy kindnesses affected the guy.

'Awwww, can the wittle goopy baby not handle the teasies?’

Oliver cooed with a giggle, now deciding to sneak a finger into each of Goop’s closed armpits, which caught the poor guy very off guard as he tried to retort.

‘I-I’m not a g-goopy ba-EEE OHMYGOD GEHET OHOUT OF THEHERE!’

Oliver grinned with evil delight at how Goop squealed and threw his head back, letting out a string out deep cackles that sounded like they came from the very depths of his sensitive soul. Oliver kept his fingers wiggling as he teased.

‘Oh…but…oh dear, it seems now I’ve put them in, I can’t get them out! Oh jeez, maybe if I wiggle them more then that’ll help get them out…’

Goop’s cackles got louder as Oliver sped up the tickling wiggling, making Goop thrash and cry out in growing flustered desperation.

‘NAHAHA THAHAT’S NAHAHAT HEHEHELPIHING!’

Despite Goop’s words, Oli maintained a concerned demeanour, letting out little gasps and grunts as he wiggled and twisted his fingers about constantly.

‘I am trying, but goodness me your thrashing is not helping! It’s only a little finger in each little armpit…’

Goop merely wailed, arching his back as his feet hit the floor wildly with his struggles and reactions.

‘C’MAHAHAHAN!! PLEHEHEHEEEASE!!’

Oliver giggled, and let his façade drop as he removed his fingers from Goop’s sensitive hollows. Goop was gasping, and his voice was caught in a much higher octave as he looked up at Oliver with flustered shock; he hadn’t ever fathomed sweet little Oliver being so damn evil!

‘Thahat w-was soho e-evihil! L-Like, s-seriously e-e-ehevil!’

Oliver giggled, raising a playful eyebrow down at Goop as he booped the guy’s nose.

‘I barely even did anything, it’s not my fault you’re a ticklish goopy baby!’

….I swear to god, Goop’s face was almost a fricking magenta colour after Oliver said those words. His voice somehow managed to go even higher too as he stammered.

‘I-I-I a-am n-not!’

Oliver giggled with an excited gasp, noting how that particular little nickname affected the sweet, ticklish man. Oliver teasingly ran his fingers over Goop’s torso now, focusing on his tummy as he raised an eyebrow down at him playfully.

‘Ohh? Does a certain ticklish goopy baby like that nickname?’

Goop pursed his lips and looked away from Oliver, fighting giggles as his lips and belly both trembled. Honestly, he did rather like that nickname, and frankly he was enjoying all of this too….but what he enjoyed the most was Oliver’s teasing. Oliver’s teasing gave him chills and goose-bumps and made him blush so hard he was hotter than the lava lamp he’d made for Wilford; disagreeing with Oliver was like a game, and it was a game that Goop wanted to play.

‘N-Noho…’

Oliver cocked his head down at Goop fondly. He could see that Goop adored it, he couldn’t hide the joy gleaming in his hazel eyes. Oliver understood why he disagreed though, it was simply Goop’s way of asking for even more teasing, and Oliver was more than happy to oblige.

‘Hmmm….that’s interesting…’

Goop let out a flustered whine as he felt Oliver’s fingertips splay over his sensitive tummy, before the android continued to speak in a low, teasing purr.

‘…because it seems to me, that the nickname suits you perfectly. You can’t deny that you’re oh so beautifully ticklish, you know you can’t hide it. Plus, you’re certainly goopy with that beard of yours jiggling away as you laugh so sweetly…’

Goop had his eyes squeezed shut out of flustered frustration as giggles built up in his belly and chest, feeling Oliver’s fingers curl and uncurl as his teases flowed so effortlessly was making it so damn hard to hold everything in….and ultimately, it was his final words that did it.

‘And frankly, you have the sweetness, softness, and cuteness of the most precious baby boy….ever!’

Oliver finished his tease by turning his tickling from anticipatory lightness, to devilish scratchiness. Goop let out a cry as he sharply arched his back, before he became a mess of giddy laughter and writhing beneath Oliver; his tummy was so damn ticklish, as I think we can concur.

‘NOHOHAHAHA NAHAT THE TUHUHUMMY OHOHO GAHAD NAHAT THEHERE! OHOHOLIIII!!!'

Oliver grinned with delight at his reaction, he ADORED playing with people’s hyper ticklish spots; people always got to the ultimate peak of cuteness once they were just consumed by mirth and nothing else. He kept on scratching as he cooed in the teasiest tone he could possibly muster.

‘Awww kitchy kitchy coo! Awww lookit the ticklish goopy baaaby! Does he like the tummy tickles, I think he liiiikes theeem!’

Goop was shaking his head frantically as his eyes started to water, the teasing was just absolutely breaking him.

‘NUHUHUHUH! NAHAHAT TRUHUHUUUE!!!’

Oliver giggled and cooed right in his face happily.

‘Is too truuuue!’

Oliver even went as far as too kiss Goop’s nose, making the mirthful man squeak and scrunch up his face; it was true tickle torment, there was no escape from the tickling or the teasing.

‘OHOHOHOLIIII!!!’

‘Yeeees Goopy?’

Goop was reaching the end of his resolve….but he was feeling much better as a result.

‘MEHEHEHERCYYY!!!’

Oliver giggled fondly, and had mercy, since he could see that he’d almost reached his limit. The android released Goop’s arms from beneath his knees, but flopped on top of him for a cuddle as he nestled into the man’s chest affectionately.

‘Do you feel a bit better?’

At Oliver’s soft question, Goop grinned his widest grin yet as he looked down at the warm, selfless sunflower android snuggled into him.

‘Yeah….yeah I do….’

Goop’s grin then morphed into a smirk, and he wrapped his arms around Oliver tightly as he growled.

‘Let me show you how grateful I am.’

Oliver spent the rest of the day basically being tortured….with love. He was accosted with gooey kisses and nuzzles and nibbles, which made him squeal and wriggle about like the cutest being ever; but let’s be real, no matter how messy it gets, love is the best thing around.

WOOO HOPE YOU LIKE THIS NEXT FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DO WOOOO LUV YOUS XX

[frcmshadcws]

{ ⊽ }{ ⊼ }{ ⋀ }{ ⋂ }{ ⋑ }{ ⋒ } count on me to always send the entire meme

Hello yes, I would die for you.

Get To Know Ray  ||  Meme Capped  /  No Longer Accepting

{ ⊽ }  —-  link some of your favorite partners!

Rapid-fire promo time? Gladly  -  seriously, if you’re not following any of these people, you’re missing out.

For starters:  @gctita  —  you absolute doll, did you think you could send this without being formally mentioned? Check out Cookie, everyone; she’s a lovely person to have as a mutual.

@theabandonedones  /  @empathystricken  /  any of Kerri’s other blogs tbh  —  follow my partner in crime; they’re phenomenal.

@rcttengang  /  @hawkinsgoth  /  any of Dee’s other blogs!

@mcuntainbcrn !

@goreburdened !

@vampirege !

And I could probably mention others, but I’ll leave it there.

{ ⊼ }  —-  what’s your favorite thing about rp?

My favorite thing about RPing has always been the wide variety of different people you can meet via this hobby, and the life-long friends that I’ve made across various RPCs. Above all else, that’s always going to be my ‘favorite’ thing about being here.

But beyond that? The chance to creatively write, without worrying about if it’s “perfect” or “professionally written.” This has always provided a relaxing break from my more ‘serious’ writing (be that my poetry or WIP stories), and it’s helped me to improve my writing without getting burnt out on the practice.

{ ⋀ }  —-  talk about your favorite ship!

Okay so here’s the thing: I’m a shipping whore.

That being said, asking me to pick a ‘favorite’ ship is nearly s impossible as asking me to pick a favorite song  —  I genuinely can’t. So instead, I’m going to talk about a few favorites real quick!

In-Fandom Ships:  Alucard x Walter owns my heart  &  soul, and likely always will. I’ve tried not to be too blatant about that over the years, on my blogs, but ah-  I’ve reached that phase in life where I’m pretty shameless about ‘shipping on main’ now. You’ll likely be able to pick up on this, from various posts here, and I am not sorry for that.  (This being said, I have a lot of in-fandom ships, and there’s plenty of others that I adore.)

Ships With Kerri:  I fucking adore most of my ships with this angel, and picking favorites is never gonna be easy. But the first two that come to mind? Our ship with Walter  &  Kai, is an old favorite that I will never get sick of. And our ship with Alucard  &  Benjamin, is a newfound favorite that I’ll probably be talking about for years now.

Other Ships:  This ship may not be nearly as developed as the previously mentioned ones, but honestly? Dee and I’s ship with Ripley  &  Alucard, owns my fucking heart too.

{ ⋂ }  —-  describe a ship dynamic you really want.

I refer you to: shipping whore. I could probably ramble about various dynamics  &  whatnot for hours. But the first thing that comes to mind? Literally any ship where I get Betrayal Angst with Walter, is my shit. Bonus points if there’s genuine regret, to some extent. Tear me  &  my traitorous bastard’s hearts out, guys.

Outside of that? Give me a ship with Alucard that’s basis is “hey try to kill me until I feel alive, oh fuck when did I fall in love with you-”  —  I crave it.  (Polar opposite of that, but give me more ships where he gets to be ‘softer’ too; it’s my kryptonite just the same.)

{ ⋑ }  —-  underrated ship you like?

When a fandom’s gotten this small, are really any ships considered that underrated? I don’t know; I don’t keep up with what’s popular or not in the first place. Either way, my first thoughts here were:

Alucard x Anderson  —  This goddamn ship has always, will always, be the death of me. I’ve adored it for years, and it’s never been a commonly talked about one (that I’ve noticed). Seriously, why don’t more people talk about the potential with this one?? Come on guys, there’s so much to this one.

Walter x Seras  —  Hey, Cookie? This one is entirely your fault. I’d never even really considered this goddamn ship, before I saw you mentioning it. I don’t know that it’ll ever have my heart as strongly as some others, but the more I’ve thought about it? It’s fucking adorable, you’re valid, thanks for unintentionally dragging me into Hell with you.

{ ⋒ }  —-  biggest rp pet peeve?

Let’s be real, I have countless things that I could rant about when it comes to the RPC  &  some of the nonsense that happens here. Actually -

PET PEEVES TAG.

NEW TAG  -  MUN SALT.

If you’re curious about the things I’ve said before, those are good tags to look for that. In the meantime…

My biggest pet peeve, out of everything, is probably when people poorly characterize trauma. Those people that write trauma victims, but use their PTSD  /  related problems as some sort of “plot device” for angst points. The people that write trauma victims, without doing any research on the subject. The people that romanticize it. The people that don’t treat the topic with the care that it requires.

As someone with severe traumas, this drives me absolutely fucking batty. Stop doing this, people. Do your research, talk to victims if you can, and tread carefully with how you handle these subjects  —  because when you don’t do any of that, you look like a total asshole to anyone who knows better. Not to mention, you look awfully damned foolish.