#also sorry if this is formatted weird I’m on mobile :\

[iguessitsjustme]

Alright friends, I have seen many wonderful posts about Tinn’s mom, but I can’t sleep so I’m writing one of my own. I have many thoughts and feelings about her because I ADORE her.

There are so many things to talk about regarding her relationship with Tinn and her journey on how to accept and best support him BUT I’m not gonna talk about that. I’m barely going to mention Tinn. I need to talk about this because I haven’t seen it mentioned yet: she is damn good at her job. I love that we had a misdirect at the beginning of the show from Gun’s perspective that she would be an antagonist that’s out to get the music club. Then we shifted to Tinn’s POV and we got to see that she isn’t out to get anyone. She’s a high school principal just trying to make sure her school keeps on running. We don’t know the exact details of what scuffle the music club got into the previous year. But as the principal, it makes sense that she is making tough choices. Clubs that cause problems that result in damages that need to be paid during a time where she has to tighten the budget? It makes sense that she would consider disbanding the music club. Tinn and Gun’s worldview is smaller because they are students at the high school. They can’t see the whole picture that Tinn’s mother sees and has to see in order to keep the school running. Does she make things more difficult for the music club? Absolutely she does, but not because she wants to. It’s literally her job. She needs to make sure the rest of the school can still function.

She also never stops the music club from trying. In fact, I’d say she encourages it, even though they might not realize it. She signs off on letting them compete but only once they’ve improved their grades. It feels unfair and impossible to the band but it is completely reasonable. “Keep up your schoolwork and your academics and you’ll be allowed to participate in this extracurricular activity with the school’s blessing.” That was a rule at my high school. It isn’t her job to just give students what they want willy nilly. It’s her job to make sure the students are set up for success in the future. Once their grades improve, she signs off on it. She might be skeptical and it might not be her thing, but never once does she stop a student from exploring their own interests.

Then we get to the homophobic teacher. She listens to his story while he demands punishment. She asks Tinn if what he said is correct. And she’s asking him because he’s involved, because he’s her son, but also because he’s the school president. Tinn has proven he is responsible and she takes that into consideration. She looks at the situation as a whole. She wants to make sure she hears both sides of the story. So many principals of people in authority will take the teacher’s side and not once ask for the student’s side of the story. But she is fair and she sees her students as people who deserve to be heard. And that entire scene I wasn’t worried about Kajorn’s punishment because I knew she would be fair because she is good at her job. Kajorn needed to be disciplined for using violence, but not for standing up to the homophobic teacher. And she punished accordingly. Then she moved on to tell the teacher what she would do regarding his role in the situation. She was being pressured by the other teacher’s regarding Tinn’s sexuality but she remained professional the entire time and did her job to support her students. And at the prom, standing right next to two of the homophobic teachers, who I’m sure texted her, she loudly told the students to cheer for Tinn and Gun.

She is doing everything in her power to make that school a safe place for students even if that means she has to face backlash. She does that because it’s her job. It’s not her job to judge students. It’s not her job to make life more difficult for students. It is her job to make sure each and every student in that school has the best chance for success when they eventually leave.

[charliesinfern0]

some aichi comfort ^^

Ichimatsu’s eyes slowly opened as the barely muffled sound of the phone ringing downstairs began to fill his ears. The sound cut through the noisy snores his brothers made, and a couple of them stirred. Ichimatsu stared at the ceiling as he waited for one of his brothers to get up and answer it, or at least pick the phone up from the receiver and put it back down. But after a while, it was clear that they didn’t want to answer the phone just as much as he didn’t. He let out a sigh through his nose and quietly grumbled before sitting up, trying to get his eyes to adjust in the darkness before venturing out into the hallway.

His footsteps were quiet as he walked down the stairs, and his pace quickened ever so slightly as he walked towards the phone, wanting the ringing to stop as soon as possible. When he finally got his hand on it, the thought finally occurred to him, ‘Wait, who would be calling at an hour like this?’

He absentmindedly lifted the receiver to his ear and muttered out a “Hello?”

A quiet, shaky voice answered from the other end. “I-Ichimatsu…?”

Ichimatsu snapped to attention and his grip on the phone tightened. “Ai? Wh… Why are you calling this late?” He had about a million more questions he wanted to ask her. Are you ok? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? 

But instead he left it at the one question that made it sound like he was irritated that she had woken him up with her call. Ichimatsu cringed at himself as he heard Ai sniffle and try to catch her breath. 

“I’m sorry, I-I got.. I just needed to talk to someone… You guys were the first people I thought to call, I’m sorry.” 

Ichimatsu wished he were there to wipe the tears from her face. 

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s ok.” He said softly, trying his best to comfort her despite the distance. “You… If you want to, you can talk to me about what’s bothering you.” 

He knew he’d only really be able to listen, he didn’t think he’d be any good at giving advice, or even comfort for that matter.  But it’s the least he could do for her.

Ai hiccuped. “Thank you, Ichi.”

“Of course.” He said quietly.

After a few seconds, a sigh came from the other end of the line, and Ichimatsu could hear Ai’s bed creak as she sat down. “I’ve just… everything’s been feeling so distant lately. Ever since I left for college, I felt like I was missing out on the life that I had with all of you.” She sniffled. “I thought… moving back to Akatsuka would fix that. But, now…” 

Ichimatsu could feel a pit of dread grow in his stomach. He knew that, after all this time, she’d realize that she had outgrown the once small neighborhood that they had grown up in together. 

He quietly gulped. “…Now?” 

She was so far ahead of him, of all his brothers. It wasn’t a shock to him that she had left, but it still stung. 

He knew that he shouldn’t hold her back, that it was better this way. At least she wouldn’t be miserable. 

“…Sometimes, I feel like I messed up by leaving home. I feel like I really hurt you guys, I mean-“ Sadness welled up in her voice once again. “I’m sorry, I-“

“No.” He said, a bit louder than he meant to be. “No, you… stop apologizing. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

That all came out too harsh than he wanted it to, he could tell that when he could practically hear another apology forming on Ai’s lips. But, she stayed quiet before letting out a small “Okay.”

Ichimatsu’s legs felt weak from standing on the hard wooden floor, and from the way Ai’s words replayed in his mind. He tried to quietly slump down to the floor, but  the wood squeaked underneath his weight.

Why on earth was she sorry? If anything, he was sorry that she ever knew them. That she ever knew him.

“…You shouldn’t have to worry about us that much.” Ichimatsu finally said. “Sure, we missed you…”

‘I really missed you.’

He sucked a breath in. “But we all knew that you were just following your passion. We supported you because we were happy for you. The way you sparkled…” He trailed off, remembering the way Ai looked on the train platform the day she left. The way his heart ached as he gave her a small wave goodbye, and when she waved back.

“Sparkled?” He heard her say from the other end of the line, snapping him out of his memories. 

“Ah… um, you know… when you’re passionate about something and…” He tried to explain himself, his cheeks growing warm. “…It’s nothing, never mind.” He muttered.

Ai quietly hummed. “Okay.” She let out another sigh, and Ichimatsu heard another creak from her bed as she lied down. “It’s nice hearing your voice, Ichi.”

Ichimatsu grunted. “Really?” It sounded sarcastic, but he was actually bewildered hearing those words come from her mouth.

“Yeah,” She said, “It… It’s just very calming.” 

“Oh.” A nervous silence filled his end of the receiver, him not knowing what else to say. 

After a few moments, Ai spoke up again, hesitantly, “Um, do you think…” Ichimatsu absentmindedly leaned forward, waiting for her next words.

“Do you think you could come over?”

His heart almost jumped out of his throat. Sure, this wasn’t the first time he’s been over to her place, but he didn’t expect her to ASK for him to come over. Usually he just ended up at her front door, in tow of one or two or all of his brothers when they wanted to bother her.

He looked up at the clock sitting on the counter. It was really late. 

“Yes.” 

He quickly pressed his mouth into a thin line. God he sounded desperate saying that.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a little while, then.” He could hear the small smile on her lips.

“See you.” He muttered quickly before hanging up, the phone letting out a quiet ‘click’ as he set it down.

Ichimatsu went upstairs and quietly grabbed his hoodie to throw on before he left. It was early spring, but the nights still got pretty chilly. He slipped on his sandals and out the door, greeted by the pale moonlight peeking out from behind the clouds that hung in the sky.

He knew his way to AI’s house like the back of his hand, having committed it to memory. He started off walking slowly, taking a right, then a left at the streetlight on the corner…

But one he made it to her street, he picked up his pace. It was only once he made it to her house, through the little alleyway that led to her front door, that he realized how idiotic he looked, standing there in his hoodie and pajama pants and sandals with socks. 

That feeling only grew as he rang her doorbell, and when he heard her footsteps approaching, and when she opened the door and her eyes landed on his.

“Hi.” Ichimatsu breathed, his lungs almost feeling like they were going to collapse.

“Hi,” Ai said quietly before taking a step back and opening the door wider. “Come in.” 

Ichimatsu hesitantly walked inside her house, and immediately felt the warmth of her heater melt the cold from his cheeks and fingertips. But the warmth in his cheeks returned when he turned back to look at Ai, who was smiling at him.

But her eyes were red and puffy, and her cheeks were stained with tears. 

“Um, thank you for coming over. I feel a bit bad for keeping you up, but…” Ai’s shoulders started to shake a little. “I’m just happy to see you.” She was still smiling, but she was wiping away the fresh tears that were forming in her eyes. 

Ichimatsu felt so stupid, just standing there and watching her cry. He felt so stupid for thinking that she ever hated him, loathed him, resented him for what he thought was keeping her from achieving her dreams. It was cruel of him to think that of her. 

He’s her friend. 

Ichimatsu clears his throat, getting Ai’s attention. He lifts his arms slightly and mutters a small “C’mere” as he shifts his gaze to the ground. Ai hesitates, before diving into his arms, wrapping her arms tightly around his torso. He pulled her in as close as possible, putting his arms around her neck.

Ai sniffled and cried into his hoodie, and Ichimatsu couldn’t care less. He gathered the courage to pet her hair, whispering comforting words. “Shh, it’s ok. You’re ok.”

After a while, Ai had stopped crying, and was just taking in Ichimatsu’s warmth. “Mmmh…” She leaned into his chest, taken in by his scent. He smelled like a cat, which wasn’t bad or anything. It was just… Ichimatsu.

Her eyes felt heavy, and she wanted to fall asleep right there. Ichimatsu felt her shift her weight onto him, and he pulled back to look at her. “You shouldn’t fall asleep on me, I’m not very comfortable.” He chuckled quietly. 

“I think you’re comfy.” Ai said sleepily, still trying to lay her head on his chest. Ichimatsu felt a tender warmth spread in his chest and stomach. “…Let’s get you to bed.” He mumbled, moving Ai so that she leaned on his shoulder. He walked her to her bedroom, and she flopped onto her bed, snuggling into the pillows. 

Ichimatsu hesitated, wondering if he should leave, before Ai opened her eyes and looked at him. “Thank you Ichi.” She whispered, holding her hand out. Ichimatsu slowly took her hand in his. “Of course.” He whisper back. Ai smiled and closed her eyes again, finally falling asleep, soft snores coming from her mouth.

Ichimatsu turned off the lights and made sure Ai was safe before leaving, locking and closing the front door behind him. He leaned back against the front door, sighing. He thought about staying, he would’ve been happy to just sleep on the floor. He thought about holding her for longer, about what he so badly wanted to say-

“I love you.”

Ichimatsu whispered that into the air, and his words bounced around the alleyway, in the silence of the cold spring night. 

…But that would’ve been too much. Too much for him, too much for her. He was just happy he could help her. With his words lost to the wind, he started his walk back to his house. 

Maybe one day the words would make his way back to him, and he’d be able to tell her how he feels.

[pretty-emo-dad]

Asking you about the party dynamics rn

I GUESS IM BREAKING MY PROMISE BECAUSE ILL NEVER BE NORMAL!!!!!!

Okay breaking things down season by season:

Season 1- Will in the upside down, Dustin, Mike, & Lucas trying to find him. Dustin & Mike become separated from Lucas because of the El/Mike/Lucas conflict

Season 2- together at the start, but separated after max is added with Mike & Will and Lucas & Max, and Dustin is with Steve. Before Dustin is with Steve, he’s with Lucas.

Season 3- Will, Lucas, and Mike are together and Dustin is gone at science camp. When he comes back, he feels ignored and goes with Steve again. Will and Mike are being ‘led’ by Lucas.

Season 4- Will is in California, and Lucas, Dustin & Mike are in Hawkins. Mike & Dustin are closer than either of them with Lucas at this point because of the basketball/hellfire situation. Then Mike & Will in Cali and Lucas& Dustin in Hawkins.

So what’s really interesting to me is that Dustin is usually emotionally and also physically separated from the other boys in every season. In season one, he talks to Mike about feeling inferior to the other boys and how he’s not as close as they are because he join the party late. Mike is able to reassure him that they’re all best friends and that’s why him and Dustin are able to stay physically together for the rest of that season.

But in season 2, Max enters the party and creates a love triangle between her, Lucas, and Dustin. Max’s choice is Lucas, Which makes Dustin feel even more inferior to the rest of the party. Because he feels like this, he confides in Steve, who makes him feel more appreciated than before.

Season three is the weirdest season because instead of Mike being the ‘leader’ of the party, Lucas is leading Mike and they kind of just drag Will along with them. Dustin, feeling left out again, is with Steve at this point.

I think that Mike not being his usual self plays into Dustin’s insecurities because when we enter season four, Mike is acting more like his usual self and him and Dustin are closer than either of them and Lucas are.

Mike being the ‘leader’ of the party also contributes a lot to their personal dynamics because we see Mike trying to be a leader without Will (S1), Mike trying to lead Will separate from the others (s2), and then Mike giving up his leadership to Lucas (s3) and Dustin (s4).

When I say that Mike is the leader of the party I don’t mean it in the way that Eddie was the leader of hellfire because their dynamics are very different. Eddie’s hellfire club is more of a club than it is a close-knit group of friends and we can see this and how his D&D table is set up and how he acts as a DM. He has a longer table and sit at the head of the table, where as Mike Has a smaller table where nobody is the head of the table even though he is the DM. Well considering how they act Eddie is a “sadistic” DM and obviously has power over his players, but with Mike he is on more equal footing with the other boys in the party. Even though they look to him as a leader, they are still very equal and don’t feel afraid to check him when he needs it.

We see this in season one, when Lucas feels like Mike is failing as a leader and checks him for discarding what Lucas feels is “really important”. And after they stop arguing, the other boys still look to Mike as a leader again. In season two, situation is a little bit more complicated because of the way that the boys are split up. There’s been many people pointing out how Mike/Will are separate from Dustin/Lucas because of their queercoding. But this isn’t the only way that season two is complicated, it’s also complicated because of the love triangle and how Dustin starts befriending Steve because of that situation.

In season three, we see Mike give the leadership role to Lucas because he knows that Lucas knows more about women than he (and Will) do. The party’s also imbalanced because Dustin isn’t there to act as a mediator between Lucas/Mike and Will. There’s a lot to be said about how the party is when Mike gives up his role as a “leader”, but one of the more interesting things is how Lucas and Dustin differ in handling that leadership role.

In season one, it’s apparent that Lucas feels like he is able to step up as a leader if Mike isn’t doing the best job. We see him fully fulfill that role in season three when Mike asks for his assistance and they end up ignoring will and dragging him along on their escapades. He is more comfortable in the role as leader, likely because of his household role as an older sibling to Erica and because of him being more emotionally mature than even Mike (at this point.) But Dustin isn’t there to balance things out so things still go awry. There’s still a certain level of wrongness because Dustin isn’t present, he isn’t present because he feels inferior, much like Will, to the other boys.

In season four, when Dustin gets that leadership role, he handles it by transferring leadership to Eddie. He lets Eddie teach them and lead them in the way that Mike wants Dustin to do because Mike isn’t able to. This is likely because of Dustin being not only an only child, but also a friend of Steve’s. He’s never really been in a leadership position because he’s always had someone either older or more of a leader to be that for him (which is another part of the reason why he feels inferior to the other boys.) Eddie isn’t a good leader to the boys either, he lets them forget about Lucas even though this is one of the times where they should be sticking together the most. The reason why Mike wants Dustin to be a leader is because he is in a state of depression since Will isn’t there with them.

The party is never at its full potential unless Mike is in a leadership position and every member is present.

Now breaking it down by specific dynamics:

(This part of the breakdown will exclude Will and Mike because they are too complex and need a separate post of their own since yk byler)

MIKE & DUSTIN:

Even though Dustin feels like Mike doesn’t think of him as one of his best friends, it’s very obvious to the audience that when times are hard for Mike he’s closest with Dustin. And season one when Will is away, Lucas and Mike automatically start fighting and Dustin is in the role of mediator between the two. But he still takes Mike’s side because he knows that Mike isn’t reliable on his own. Dustin is a very observant character and most likely caught on to how Mike acts when people don’t need him. This is why when Mike is depressed in season four AND without Will, Dustin steps up to his side.There’s also just them usually agreeing on things when the others don’t. In season one, they both want to help El and in season four, they both want to play DND. This is also part of the reason why in season two, Dustin and Mike get split up. This time they don’t have a common interest in Max and aren’t able to connect like they usually do. 

For them, their relationship at this point is better than Mike’s relationship is with any of the other party members. Dustin is able to provide this unconditional acceptance of Mike. It’s not Lucas or Will’s fault, but Mike feels more accepted by Dustin (even though he knows Dustin doesn’t know about him being queer). Once Mike gets his relationships with Lucas and Will fixed, Dustins insecurity will also be fixed. This is because when Mike isn’t himself he isn’t able to provide Dustin with the reassurance that he would be able to if he was himself. When he fixes his other relationships, he’ll go back to the type of person who can reassure Dustin.

WILL & DUSTIN:

Will and Dustin have had the least explored friendship in the show, but from what we’ve seen Will has been able to reassure Dustin and include him because they both have this feeling of inferiority. They can both relate to feeling like they aren’t enough and like Lucas and Mike are better than them for separate reasons, but they are still able to relate to each other. Some people argue that Will could have also acted as the voice of reason when Dustin, Mike , and Lucas were arguing about the basketball/hellfire thing because he understands Lucas’ point of view more than them; But he wouldn’t have had to because they wouldn’t be in that situation in the first place if he was present.

Even though they have one of the least explored dynamics between the original party, it’s clear that Will and Dustin have similar feelings around being a part of the party. Them both feeling less than the others is a way for them to connect again like they weren’t able to in prior seasons because Will had been at the center of the supernatural things happening around them.

LUCAS & DUSTIN

Dustin and Lucas have the most comedic relationship out of the original party, but they still have other things that contribute to them as deeper characters.In season one, we don’t really see Dustin and Lucas having a dynamic that’s deeper because whenever they do interact it’s them arguing for communication affect or two emphasize how Mike is (at this point )more emotionally mature than the others. In season two, we see them have more of a complex relationship because of Dustin’s jealousy. They’re able to relate to each other and liking Max which makes them a duo for a lot of the second season, but when it’s clear that Max chooses Lucas, Dustin starts isolate himself from the other boys. When he finds dart, he doesn’t tell any of the others about his discovery because he feels left out from the rest of the party. When he befriends Steve, He feels like there’s finally someone who can appreciate him and his intelligence. He continues going to Steve and Eddie whenever he feels like he isn’t getting enough credit from his friends especially Lucas. On Lucas aside, he feels like Dustin doesn’t take things seriously enough for the circumstances that they’ve been in. Lucas’s realistic outlook on life is implied to be formed by him experiencing racism throughout his childhood and having to deal with that. He’s also an older brother to a sister who has also experienced racism, so he goes through life with a realistic outlook because he wants to protect people close to him. When he sees Dustin not have as realistic outlook on life as he(and Mike and Will) do, he feels annoyed because of its unfairness, and because of how easy he feels Dustin has it. Dustin can’t really see this until Billy attacks Lucas, and from then on they are able to reconcile and become friends again. But there’s still some things that need to be worked on in their friendship.

Like I said before, Dustin offers unconditional acceptance to Mike, but he also does this with Will. He isn’t able to provide Lucas with the same feeling because their interest and feelings don’t often align. For them to fix their relationship, Dustin will have to overcome his insecurity and start providing Lucas with the same unconditional acceptance feeling that he provides the others with. Lucas will also have to understand why Dustin constantly feels inferior to the other and understand why he continues to seek out older people to be his friends. He doesn’t feel valued by the others, but especially Lucas because he sees Lucas as better than him. I feel like Lucas and Dustin fixing their conflicts is more likely to happen sooner than Mike and Lucas resolving their issues. Not only because Dustin and Lucas were physically closer than Lucas was with Mike in season 4, but also because Mike and Lucas’ conflicts run deeper with outside pressure influencing their decisions.

WILL & LUCAS

Will and Lucas understand each other on a surface level. It’s clear that Lucas cares a lot about Will and it’s clear that Will cares a lot about Lucas, but since their relationship isn’t shown a lot they have the same vibe that Dustin and Will have. They understand each other because they have both experienced discrimination for things they aren’t able to change about themselves. But one big factor is that everyone knows that Lucas being black is true, though nobody knows that Will being gay is true. I’m season 3, when we see the most of their dynamic, Will is trying to hide his sexuality, but also wants to get back his childhood. He lets himself be dragged along by Lucas and Mike acting straight, even though he knows he isn’t. This differs from Mike who actively seeks Lucas’s advice because Mike is trying to be straight, whereas Will already accepted that he isn’t. He’s also bored of Mike and Lucas because he doesn’t like that growing up. He wants to experience the part of childhood that he missed out because he has been traumatized by Henry. Lucas probably would have understood this if he wasn’t so distracted by Mike needing somebody to fill that leadership role. We see that once the party is back to semi normal, Lucas is able to pay more attention to Will and less attention to what Mike meets because he sees that, realistically, Will is going to be the most affected by the supernatural things going on. I like that Lucas and Will have this understanding of each other, because it shows how Mike and Lucas could have been if Mike was a more open person. This isn’t to say that I don’t enjoy Lucas and Will’s bond for what it is, it’s just interesting that it’s a foil to how Mike and Lucas are.

With Lucas and Will “fixing“ their relationship, the thing I said earlier about how the party needs to be balance really stands out here. This is because in order for Will to not feel left out and for Lucas to not leave out Will, Mike will have to step up again as a leader. With the other things, like well wanting his childhood back, Lucas can understand that. He has already apologize and most likely understood why Will wanted to play DND as much as he did that summer, but again he was distracted by what Mike needed. We also see that in season four he has learned from this because he doesn’t let Mike’s depression stop him from doing what he believes he needs to do for himself. This isn’t to say that Mike is a needy person for being depressed, but it is saying that Lucas is a very loyal and one track minded person, and tends push things to the side when trying to help someone he loves.

MIKE & LUCAS

If you read all of this you’ve probably noticed that I mention Lucas and Mike’s relationship a lot and that’s because they have a lot of issues to address with each other. But most of these issues come from their greater character arcs. like I said earlier, in season one Mike is emphasized to be more emotionally mature than the other boys. There’s a lot of reasons why this makes sense for him in season one but not for the later seasons and most of it boils down to his repression of his own feelings and how he handles the trauma that he’s experienced. But when considering season one him and Lucas being the most emotionally mature of the party causes them to clash a lot. This is because Lucas is emotional maturity comes from having a more realistic point of view on the world and Mike’s emotional maturity comes from his family dynamics. When Lucas meets El he, automatically doesn’t trust her because he’s grown to be wary of strangers. This is very different from Mike because when Mike meets El his first instinct is to take care of her. Mike automatically taken care of El shows that he’s expected to take care of things and his family (@aemiron-main is currently piecing together and analysis of why that is). With this key difference Mike and Lucas end up fighting over the leader ship role. This is only resolved when Lucas is able to accept that Wl isn’t trying to hurt them and when Mike apologizes for being aggressive towards Lucas. They solve that specific conflict but don’t address the underlying motivations that caused the conflict. Lucas does grow to be more trusting of other people because he welcomes Max in season two, but Mike only gets less mature from that point. We don’t see Lucas and Mike fight like they did in season one, but they still have disagreements in season two and season four. And season two Mike is the less trusting one and Lucas is the more trusting one. This is because Lucas has grown but Mike hasn’t . Another factor is Mike’s survivors guilt and not wanting to put Max in danger. In season three we don’t see a conflict between Lucas and Mike because for the most part they’re interest align. But we do see them argue on what’s important. Because Lucas is more realistic and Mike’s survivors guilt , they disagree on how important it is that El uses her powers to fight the Mindflayer. Mike is afraid of losing El again , but Lucas doesn’t understand that because he lacks the guilt that Mike has and only thinks about the situation realistically. That conflict goes unsolved because of how quickly everything else happens. In season four is where we start to see them butt heads again. Lucas’s reason for wanting to play basketball is not only because he enjoys it, but also because he doesn’t want to be bullied. Mike doesn’t seem to care about this even though they have both been bullied, this is because Lucas’s bullying is apart of racism that Mike has never had to experience. Mike wants to go to the game, but he doesn’t want to disappoint Eddie because he idolizes Eddie so much. I get very upset when people imply that Mike doesn’t care about Lucas’s game, because we see that he would have gone if it was on a different day, but he chooses to side with Eddie. This is partly because he feels like he’s already lost Lucas and partially because he needs Hellfire to operate normally. We see each other boys have interest outside of D&D in the show, but never Mike. For him, D&D is the main source of several of his conflicts but also how he keeps himself connected to the real world. Lucas likes D&D, but doesn’t have as strong as an attachment to it, so he can’t see why Mike is this upset about it. It’s also notable that when talking to Eddie, Mike is the most vocal about moving Hellfire because he still wants to be there for Lucas.

Most of Lucas and Mike’s conflicts connect to how they see the world and how they deal with their emotions, in order for them to fix things, they’ll have to conclude their separate character arcs. Lucas and Mike don’t have the advantage that Lucas and Dustin have with being physically close, nor the advantage of having similar experiences like Lucas and Will or Dustin and Mike. They are both very stubborn people but when one falls, the other is there to catch them. It’s very clear that they love and would do anything for each other, but right now they can’t connect in the way they usually are because of how they’re handling their respective traumas. They won’t understand each other until they’re able to talk things out and have an open conversation.

Conclusion:

The original party is a very interesting core dynamic because while there are power dynamics, everyone is the party is equal. Wills was right about Mike being the heart of the party, he needs to learn from previous seasons in order to fix many of the broken relationships in the party. This isn’t to say that he’s fully at fault, because he isn’t, but they still rely on him as a leader. They all have things to figure out for themselves, but they’re always there witch each other when they need it. They have all the small conflicts that will eventually need to be solved, but their bond is one that’s unbreakable. They need each other, and I’m really excited to see what season 5 gives us in regards to them!!

[lokiiofstories]

Ali Plumb: A very key question is, are you aware of the word ‘Lokius’? And what does that word mean to you?

Tom Hiddleston: Lokius?

Plumb: Yeah. So this is the legion of people who don’t want it to be Sylvie and Loki, they want it to be Loki and Mobius.

Hiddleston: Oh, I see, I see, I see.

Plumb: The bond that your characters share–

Hiddleston: Yeah, I mean they– Of course they’re like really deep and close friends. Mobius gave Loki a second chance at life. And… But then Loki gave Mobius, I don’t know, he sort of– Insight, showed him what– showed him the truth. And, and they’ve helped each other grow and change. And there’s that line in season one, you know, “You can be-” Mobius says, “You can be whoever you wanna be.”

Clip from Season 1 Episode 4 plays: “You can be whoever, whatever you wanna be. Even someone good.”

Hiddleston: “Sorry if someone told you otherwise.”

Clip continues: “I mean, just in case anyone ever told you different.”

Can anyone please tell me if there’s an accurate transcript of the Lokius part of the BBC 1 interview? I have a really weird issue where I HATE watching or listening to actors’ interviews, they make me feel awkward and embarrassed even when they’re talking about boring stuff, let alone something like Lokius. But I would love to read everything that was said. 🥺🥺

[doomedmoth]

Not fast, just furious

Pairing : Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Warnings : use of y/n, smau, unhinged behavior, alcohol and cigarettes consumption, kys joke, suggestive texts, chaotic fluff, grumpy x sunshine, lando getting bullied

Synopsis : During his winter break in Australia, Daniel meets a barmaid with a big heart and a bigger mouth. When she starts following him during the races, fans are a bit unsure of how to deal with her unhinged behavior and total lack of media training. Daniel loves it.

Moth’s prophecy💡: Hi friends ! Pls be kind, it’s my first attempt at a smau and I’m on mobile, so the formatting might be weird. Also sorry if your name is Malva, it was the first one that came to mind lol.

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername Walking in the club like we regulars

Liked by yourbff, melbournemirage and others

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yourbff leaving the club like an overworked mom

Liked by yourusername

melbournemirage our favorite employee 🤩

Liked by yourusername

yourusername wouldn’t mind a raise then 🤪

user1 gorggggg

yourbrother stop drinking on the job bitch

yourusername get a job before judging me bitch

*****

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[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg has added a story

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[Messages] Daniel has sent you a text

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wagupdates New wag alert ?? Daniel Ricciardo has now been seen a few times with an unknown woman around Melbourne and Perth during his winter break. At first thought to be a childhood friend, sources say they met at the bar where the young woman is working, and they have been getting quite cozy 👀 What do you think ??? 📸 via Australian celebrity press

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danyfanclub she looks cuuuute

user1 anyone got her @ ???

user2 apparently he been hanging out at melbournemirage so maybe she works there ???

malva she looks messsyyyy, doubt it’s gonna last till the season starts…

danyfanclub stay mad

*****

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo

daniel3.jpg Aussie adventures before going back to vroom vroom

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maxverstappen1 honey come home the kids miss you

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user1 what camera do you use ???

wagupdates do we spy the new girl on the 4th and 7th slide ??? 👀

user2 THANK YOU I THOUGHT I WAS THE ONLY ONE

user3 sneakyyy

danyfanclub can’t wait to see her in the paddock ‼️

landojpg we missed you at karting mate 🥺

daniel3.jpg sorry, too busy drinking cocktails 🤪

*****

[Messages] Your coworker has sent you a text in Charlie’s Angels

*****

[Instagram] melbournemirage just posted a photo

melbournemirage Today we mourn the loss of our best bartender, yourusername . She had been with us for a little over a year now, and was the light of Melbourne Mirage, our pride and joy. She always won employee of the month, and not just because she created and awarded the title herself. A gathering in her memory will be held tonight at 9pm, everyone who knew and loved her is free to attend 💔

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yourbff LMAOOOOO

yourusername WHY THE FUCK DO YOU MAKE IT SOUND LIKE I’M DEAD I JUST QUITTED ???

melbournemirage sometimes we can still hear her voice… 💔

daniel3.jpg don’t worry I’ll take good care of her 😇

yourcoworker you better 🔪

user4 DANIEL ???

danyfanclub finally we have the @ !!!

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

[Instagram] daniel3.jpg has added a story

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[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername last month stuff

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yourbff damn girl, money suits you well 😍

yourusername right ???

malva wow, gold digger much…

danielricciardo thank you for getting Max to fly us around babe 🥰

maxverstappen1 as if I was not offering after every race…

landonorris why don’t you offer me after every race ???

maxverstappen1 you can walk

landonorris TO SILVERSTONE ???

user1 from barmaid to wag, girl is living the dream life

user2 smoking is not cool girl…

yourusername minding your own fckn business is tho

*****

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[Twitter] yourusername just posted

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[Messages] my sun 🌞 has sent you a text

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[Instagram] daniel3.jpg just posted a photo

daniel3.jpg Sorry my cat bites, I found her in the streets. She’s a good girl irl.

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yourusername don’t reveal my secrets 🙄 (love you)

daniel3.jpg the world has to know ❤️‍🔥 (love you more)

lilymhe I can confirm the good girl part

yourusername I’ll be the best for you 🥵

alex_albon HM EXCUSE ME ???

danyfanclub ppl love to hate on her because she’s not trained like a nepo baby but honestly relatable queen !!

user1 boy is simping so hard

user2 she looks so fun to be around, finally a wag that doesn’t look fake

malva yeah she definitely got the street cat look…

user3 OMG GET A FUCKING LIFE GIRL

danyfanclub being this salty won’t make him like you go get a grip

*****

[Instagram] yourusername has added a story

user1 replied to your story :

Did you and Daniel break up ???

malva replied to your story :

fucking finally, so looooong

danielricciardo replied to your story :

have fuuuun, I’ll call you when my plane lands 🐶

******

[Instagram] yourusername just posted a photo

yourusername Back where everything started. I know I sound like a bitch sometimes, but to my love, my sun, my pup, I am so glad I met you 6 months ago. You turned my life around and I can’t wait for more shenanigans with you. You make any place feel like home. I love you. To everyone else, especially those who thought we broke up because I had the audacity to go home two days before him : Fuck you all ❤️

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melbournemirage we were so happy to have you back, even for just a night ! Soon a #speeddating night at the Melbourne Mirage everyone ? 👀

Liked by yourusername

yourusername stop promoting yourself on my account

maxverstappen1 glad to have met you this year bro

yourusername #mates4life

user1 I didn’t know they were so close !!

danielricciardo my love ❤️‍🔥

yourusername my sun 🌞

user2 highway looking pretty good for a nap rn

user3 goooosh they are so cute I’m gonna kms

danyfanclub FROM THE MAIN ACCOUNT TOO ‼️

malva still not buying it

This user has been blocked

yourbrother you did not have to come back so soon

yourusername jeez 🤡 at least pretend to be happy for the gifts you little shit

yourbrother thx I guess

yourusername you’re adopted

landonorris can you bring me back some Tim Tam ? 🥺

danielricciardo no ❤️

yourbff no ❤️

yourusername no and kys ❤️

landonorris damn 🥺

[chaotic-birds]

fluffy Jason thought

if you like run your fingers through his hair, especially when he’s sleepy, he’ll kiss your palms and wrists. Especially after an argument, it’s like his silent little apology before the actual words (kinda like he’s hyping himself up in a way)

I love soft!Jason so much :,)

soft!Jason owns my heart. thank you for sending this in!!! my writing is a little rusty, but I had fun writing this so i hope you enjoy!

this is also uploaded on mobile so sorry if the formatting is weird. if it is, i’ll fix it later 😖

TW none | WC ~500 | G angst, fluff, h/c

masterlist

It didn’t take long for you to realize Jason Todd is not used to being loved.

He’s not used to the gentle touches or the soft voices.

But he tries to be.

He tries for you.

Jason’s head lays on your lap, eyes closed as he focuses on the feeling of your fingers threading through his dark hair. The slow motions bring comfort to his fast-paced life. It steadies his breathing and allows his body to sink deeper into the couch cushions.

Although Jason is becoming sleepier, he can’t bring himself to rest. Not when he snapped at you last night. Not when he knows the origin of his frustrations came from his self-hatred that he made you so scared for his well-being.

Jason reaches up to grab the hand that’s been playing with his hair and guides it to his mouth. He places tender kisses on each knuckle. Each time his mouth touches your skin, he can hear the echo of his words he had said to you.

Words that he regrets saying.

“I don’t need you worrying about me all the damn time.”

“I’m not a fucking child, and you’re not my fucking mother.”

“Leave me alone.”

“I can take care of myself. Been doing it for years, darlin’.”

“How about you worry about someone else?”

Jason kisses the inside of your wrist and lets his lips linger on your warm skin.

Skin that he loves to feel against his. Skin from the person he loves so much that it scares him.

Scares him because what happens if your skin becomes cold forever. What if…

“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your wrist. “I’m so sorry.”

Your hand cups his face, angling it so his blue eyes connect with yours.

“I know, Jayce. I forgive you.”

Jason’s lips twitch in a failed attempt to smile.

He should have never gotten mad about you caring for him.

If you were the one stumbling home after a bad fight, bruised and bleeding, he’d be fretting over you too. Hell, he’d probably react in more extreme ways.

“I’ll try not to worry so much,” you say.

Jason shakes his head. “I don’t want you to, but I understand why you do. I… I worry about you too.”

You smile, nodding. “I’m glad you do.”

Tilting his head, he questions, “You are?”

“Yup,” you reply. “It means you care.”

Jason’s eyes flicker from yours.

He knows he cares about you. He’d give his life for you. He’d take all the pain in the world if it meant you were unharmed.

But if he’s willing to do that because he cares about you, does that mean you’d do the same because you care about him?

Jason leans his head into your palm that’s still against his cheek as he lulls over the thought.

He’s not used to feeling loved. He’s not used to your soft touches and soothing voice.

But he’s trying.

Because deep down in his heart, he wants to be.

He wants to be loved.

He wants to be loved by you.

©️chaotic-birds // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

[schumachersricciardo]

Shiver

Chapter Six - You’re All I’ve Ever Known

♡ Mick Schumacher x Reader, Best friend!Danny Ricc x reader

♡ TW: Swearing, inaccurate timeline of F1/F2/F3, badly translated German using Google, blood/injuries (not graphic, but there is are mentions of it!), i forgot how many days elapsed between scenes bc i wrote this in like two days. so ya know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. INACCURATE DESCRIPTIONS OF ENGLAND???? I literally made up street names and i think a school, so don’t come for me. I’m just a girl. plus i’m american so like we already have enough on our plates. Ummm slight kidnapping vibes??? very inaccurate and probably wrong medical talk.

♡ She/Her pronouns are used, nothing descriptive about reader except that her hair is long enough to pull back into a ponytail or braid, no reader insert, timeline skips. ALSO: WARNING!!!! I will barely be mentioning Michael Schumacher. I do not presume to know what he is thinking, or would say in these fictional scenarios. I am trying to be respectful of their privacy and not make any assumptions!!!!!! He will be mentioned here and there, but I do not believe any dialogue will be associated with him. If you do not like that, then do not read it. :)

♡ 6.3k words

♡A/N: Again, posting this on mobile and will format it when i get back from work! sorry it’s a day late. yesterday was very bad lol ok love u bye

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It seemed like there was never going to be an end to the poking, the prodding, and testing on your body. Everyday, there was to be a new test or a repeat of an old one to be done. On top of already having been in the hospital for more than two weeks now, your memory was still not coming back to you. Sometimes someone would say something and if it as if your brain knew the memory tied to it, but it couldn’t relay it to your voice fast enough to recollect it. You didn’t know what was worse at this point:

“No, no threes. Go fish.” Your Uncle Sebastian echoed, stopping your train of thought.

Trying to focus your eyes, you looked at the pile of cards in front of you and drew another one.

“Do you… Have any… sixes?”

The four time champion just smiled and slid over some of his cards. You neatly made a pile of your finished “sixes” cards. Moments later, there was a slight knock on the door before it slowly pushed open towards the two of you.

“Hi, Mrs. Schumacher. It’s good to you see you again.”

So here’s the thing - You had been called that many times now. Almost every nurse and doctor has called you that… And since you had no room to counter, you never corrected them. Who knows? Maybe you and Mick actually got married after high school like the two of you talked about. And as weird as it was for you to be called that… It certainly felt right and didn’t make you feel uncomfortable - which of course made things curious and curioser.

“Mrs.… Schumacher??” Sebastian Vettel put his cards down and eyed the nurse and the doctor. There was a look on their faces that you couldn’t quite place.

“So sorry, no,” The doctor began correcting his mistake. He finally addressed you by your first and last name. “I’m sorry, again. Mr. Schumacher is your medical proxy and I forget that those in fact, do not have to be spouses.”

The doctor nervously chuckled as he prepared various medicinal instruments. It would happened two times a day where they’d check your cognitive function and your response to stimuli. Sometimes you’d say things that were a memory, but moments later you forget you said that. You even had times where Mick was in the same room, and you had forgotten who he was so you called him… Pleading for him to come back and comfort you.

He was the only constant in your life.

The doctor and nurses finished their exam and let you get back to your card game. You had no memory of the man who sat across from you, even though he said he was like family to Mick and that he knew you when you were little. He’d tell you stories about his time in Formula One, and how he’s focused on sustainability now and finding new hobbies. You truly were delighted in the presence of this man, but deep down inside you wished that Mick were there.

He had some press releases to do, as his racing came to halt when you crashed out in Silverstone. He was planning on racing the last 5 races as you were getting better now. Well, physically. Your leg was almost ready to be put in a regular soft cast once the rods would be removed. Your arm was out of its cast completely, and it seemed like your ribs and spine were doing okay. It was just your dumb brain that needing fixing.

“You alright?” Soon, Sebastian’s voice pulled you out of your endless thinking. “We can stop, if you’d like. I think you are beating me, anyway.”

Silently, you put down your cards and pushed the tray that was on wheels aside. You didn’t know what was coming over you. You felt an immense sadness and regret, but you didn’t know why. You were lost. Having your memories stripped of you is such a cruel fate… You rather have just not survived.

“I’m not good enough for him.” You plainly stated.

Sebastian blinked a few times as he put down his playing cards as well. He took a deep breath and tried his best to comfort you.

“Why do you say that? He’s been here every day since you crashed.” Sebastian’s tone was cautious, but caring.

“i mean… Look at me? I have rods sticking out of my leg… And I can’t remember shit. It’s pathetic.”

The former F1 didn’t have a response. He couldn’t imagine what you were going through, let alone the both of you. He just gently reassured you with a grasp of his hand on yours. Before you knew it, even his thoughts were halted by someone entering your hospital room.

“Hello, ma’am, I’m Nurse Elsie.” The brunette nurse beamed at you, and took the clipboard off of the end of the bed. “Do you remember who I am?” Her British accent was thick… You couldn’t place from where though.

You paused and did your best to remember someone named Elsie.

“You-You were there when I first woke up… And you were telling me to stay calm…”

The nurse’s expression immediately turned. Complete surprise and bliss overtook her as she grinned at you and Sebastian. She grabbed your hands ever so softly and opened her mouth to speak.

“Yes, that’s correct! I was here the day you came in, and I haven’t left since.” It truly warmed your heart to see someone that hardworking have some sense of relief. “And I am glad you’re speaking English again!”

“Was… I not before?” Your eyebrows furrowed and your focused shifted to Sebastian. He pressed his lips in a tight line, debating if he should answer for you when Mick wasn’t there.

Clearing his throat, he straightened his posture and exhaled.

“When you first woke up, you were only speaking in German. Mick had to translate for you for a while, until you felt comfortable enough to speak English again.” Vettel calmly responds, his hand scratching at the stubble on his jawline. You nodded along while he explained a few more things to you.

About twenty minutes later after another few tests were done, you were absolutely exhausted. You tucked yourself into the hospital bed with one of Mick’s blankets added to the pile for extra warmth. His scent was wearing off of the blanket as you pulled it up to your chin. Mick was familiar to you, and to your feelings - Yet, part of him remained a stranger. He was older, well you both were now.

He was not the shy little school boy anymore, but a confident young man. His muscles had grown noticeably and his hair was long, like you liked it. His jawline had formed into sharp corners where it meets his ears, as opposed to the chubby faced kid who would ride his bike alongside you and hold your hand in crowded places so you wouldn’t get lost. On the other hand and maybe the stronger one at that, you didn’t recognize him at all. Sure, he looked like Mick and sounded like him… But there was a piece missing to the dynamic between the two of you that you couldn’t quite place.

When he would be in the hospital room with you, it was almost as if he was treating you with a fragility that was completely peculiar to the way your foggy memory could recall him treating you. He was always kind and always held a special tenderness for you, that much you could remember… But be that as it may, he was handling you now with a delicate hand - so afraid of breaking you further. You couldn’t tell from where you sat if it was because of your injuries that he was being extra careful around you, or because there was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Knock, Knock.” The familiar voice of another doctor entered your stumbling train of thought as they entered your room. Sebastian stood to greet her and shake her hand.

“How are you feeling today, ma’am?” You shrugged and mumbled something incoherent. “Right then! My name is Doctor Wells. I’m the Chief of Neurology, and have been following your case closely.”

You honestly were having a tough time keeping all these doctors and nurses straight in your head, that you thought adding one more to the list might make you explode. But still - you politely greeted her as you told her your name.

“You’ve been making great progress physically, it seems. Your leg will be moved to a soft cast in two days time, and then in about a month, we’ll x-ray your leg to see when we would take that cast off, but again, it’s looking good.” The doctor smiled as her green eyes scanned the clipboard in front of her.

She began to hum to yourself as she jotted down some notes. You immediately noticed it, and Sebastian immediately noticed you. It was as though you couldn’t breathe all of a sudden and you had no clue as to why. Your monitors began to beep at a rapid rate, while the voices around you were telling you things but you couldn’t hear them. All you could hear was a loud, sharp and lasting ringing in your eyes as you sobbed. Soon, you felt the calming medicine go through your IV and settle your heart rate. It took a few more minutes to gain your bearings.

“Es tut mir Leid (I’m sorry).” You breathed out as you laid back down trying to get comfortable again.

Sebastian excused himself to go make a phone call, assuring you that he’d be back in a few minutes.

“That’s quite alright. Your body has been through a lot these last few weeks.” Dr. Wells smiled at you with an overwhelming aura of reassurance. She took a beat, and pulled up her rolling stool next to your bedside. “May I ask what I did to trigger that reaction? I want to know so I won’t do it again.”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, her eyes filled with worry and sympathy. You tried your best to think about the answer to her question. She could practically hear the gears turning in your head while you attempted to pinpoint what it was that upset you.

“The humming… When you hummed… It… I don’t know - did something to me.” Dr. Wells nodded in response and promise that she wouldn’t do it again. “Can I ask you a question, Dr. Wells?”

“Anything at all.”

You moved your hospital bed up so you could sit up and see the doctor better. You had very little to go on, but what you could go off of confidently was people’s expressions and the way their faces moved when they spoke to you.

“What are my chances of getting my memory back, and if I don’t… What do I do?” In turn, your facial expression was desperate, reeking of hopelessness and despair. She could see the devastation the accident has brought you, as it seeped out of the pores of your skin and infected your surroundings.

“Well, you’re making good progress and you remember Nurse Elsie which is a great sign… And the fact that you still know who Mick is a great sign,” Dr. Wells began slowly. “But, we really won’t know the extent of the damage the crash took, especially in regard to your memory. All your brain scans have thus far been clean, with no cause for concern.”

You started to feel tears brimming in your eyes as you bit your bottom lip to try and stifle back your cries. Shakily, you let out whatever air you had left in your lungs now.

“Sometimes things like this just happen and we don’t know why… But what we do know is that memories can always be created. You may not be able to remember the ones you had previously, but you can always replace them with new ones, better ones even.”

The pair of you talked for a few minutes more about your situation and how best to help it. She gave you some flyers for support groups and some numbers for therapists that specialize in what you were going through. She checked your vitals once more before heading towards the door and exiting, smiling a courteous smile as she disappeared into the vast hospital.

On the rare occasion you were left alone in your room, you liked to write things down in a notebook Mick gave you. It was your favorite color, with a giant ‘MSC47’ sticker on it. You had asked him what that was and he told you it was his racing number. To that, you asked why he didn’t put your racing number… And in response to that, he sheepishly admitted that it slipped his mind to put your number, but he was glad you always had a reminder of him. You didn’t even notice you were reminiscing until you caught yourself stroking the sticker on the front of your notebook. Blinking a few times to clear your mind, you opened it up to the next free page only to see that someone really tried not to write in their typical chicken scratch.

Smidge,

If you are reading this, then I must be away doing some press related things. I wish I did not have to, but duty calls and I also think Toto would come to my house and drag me there himself (in a very nice way, of course). Anyway, I wanted to write you a short note and let you know that I will be back soon, and hopefully you will be coming home after that. I have rented a place out here for you and me that will be sufficient enough until you decide where you want to fully rest and recover. We can go back to your apartment in Italy or to one of my family’s cottages in Switzerland. I would even take you back to the states to find respite at my ranch in Texas, but I know you do not have fond memories of Texas. I want to do only what you are comfortable with, Schätzen.

As for my last few races, I am on the lookout for the best home care nurse I can find while I am away. Sebastian offered, but he has a family and children of his own. When you feel up to it, I would also like your opinion on how you would like your care to be handled when I am at a race. I want you to feel as safe and taken care of as possible. It kills me that I have to go away to participate in the last few races, but part of me is also excited to get back to driving alongside Lewis. We (Mostly I) will dedicate every race to you, Schätzen. Maybe if you are healed and well enough, you may be able to attend the last race of the season. That would be very fun, as I know some of the drivers are dying to see you again.

I cannot think of anything else to write that might ease your mind while I am gone for now. I cannot imagine how difficult it must be to not know anybody there, but I do hope that with Sebastian being there it has calmed some of your nerves. He admires you greatly, and you have always been fond of him. I feel exactly the same way. But you can always text message me or call me, if you need me. I know you are not quite comfortable with that form of communication yet, but I just want you to know that I will always respond and pick up when I see your name pop up on my phone.

Anyway, I am excited and full of anticipation for when I get to lay eyes on the most beautiful woman I have come to know again. Your strength and perseverance through this entire ideal has been something to write in the history books about. I cannot wait to hear your laugh and feel your fingers interlaced with mine. I am looking forward to our days spent on the couch, sharing a blanket, with you tucked underneath my side - where you fit so perfectly beside me as if it were meant to be. And until we see each other again, just know I am thinking of you always and missing you every second of the day.

You hold my heart in your hands.

Ich gehöre für immer dir.

(I am yours forever.)

Love,

Mickey

There were drops of water scattered across the page as you tried to stop yourself from crying again.

You may not know him, but he knows you. And the feeling was overwhelming.

“Are you alright?” Sebastian’s quiet voice came into notice as you looked up at him with tearful eyes. He tilted his head to the side in concern.

“He… Wrote me… He wrote me… This letter… He knew I would find it… He knew this… That I would want to write things down, after the day I had… And he knew I would find his letter…” You spoke in between sobs, your chest falling up and down at a rapid rate.

“Okay, okay. Let’s take a few deep breaths and then we can talk about it, ja?” Sebastian began to initiate some deep breathing, hoping you would follow suit.

After many seconds of doing some deep breathing, you closed your eyes and did your best to relax your body.

“He loves me, doesn’t he?”

Vettel paused, taking his seat beside you.

“Yes. He does.” The German driver answered solemnly.

“And I don’t love him? Isn’t that right?” You glanced around the dry hospital room, smears of bright white and the smell of rubbing alcohol apparent.

“I don’t want him to love me. I don’t deserve it.”

Sebastian Vettel, four time world formula one champion, and one of the most formidable motorsports athletes the world has ever known, was stunned. He remained tight lipped and stoic. In frustration, you threw the notebook onto the floor and put your head in your hands. You weren’t crying, no. But you were exasperated . You could hear beeping as each finger pressed a key in the background. You didn’t know what was what, except what was shown to you: The voice of somebody you used to know.

Sebastian had put the phone on speaker and handed it to you.

“Smidge? Are you okay?”

“Hello? Smidge?”

“Was machst du (What are you doing)?”

“Ich vermisse dich (I miss you).”

Mick’s voice was like the half of you that you didn’t know you needed. It melded perfectly with what you were missing in this dark despair of recent days. His slight German-Swiss accent brought you comfort like you didn’t know you needed. He had picked up the call no matter where he was or what he was doing.

“Komm zurück zu mir (Come back to me).” You could hear Mick let out a strained sigh. He wanted to come back, god did he want to.

“Mickey, please…”

Completely taking you off guard, the line went dead suddenly and you were left with another kind of beeping. You slowly handed the phone back to your almost friend, Sebastian. The former driver could only sigh and sit back in the chair that he had been making his home since Mick left.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Four Days Later

Your leg was finally out of those ghastly rods and into a softer cast. To think this feeling was heavenly, was something you would have never put on your radar thus far. Soon enough though as the many doctors and nurses came by, you were cleared to go home in the next 24 hours.

“We are glad to see you improving Mrs. Schumacher.” You did your best to make eye contact with the receptionist. “Please let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you…” You started with caution.

“I’m not Mrs. Schumacher though… If you want to change that for your records or anything…” You tried your best to be nonchalant. The receptionist typed a few bits onto the computer in front of her.

Ushering for you to take a seat in the lobby, you tried your best to not think about the past.

Due to a reason unbeknownst to you, Mick was unavailable to take you home when it came to your releases date. You even braved the scary phone long enough to ask Sebastian if he could be there to take you to the new home Mick set up for you. He wished that he could, but evidently he had something to attend to.

Bravery aside, you sat curbside alone trying to figure out who to call. Your leg was in its soft cast, as you remained waiting for something or someone to come rescue you. You didn’t know where you were, you didn’t know any phone numbers off of the top of your head, and if it could get any worse, you were in England where it was raining.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you stay outside like this.”

Great. Now you’re fucking hearing things. Trying to shake the eerie feeling you had resting on your shoulders, you ignored the voice.

“Let me take you home, huh?” The voice repeated to you.

Your head turned to the left towards the voice. They were leaning against some concrete beam, cigarette almost totally nsmoked as they stepped towards you.

“John?”

“Hello, baby sister.”

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You weren’t sure how you ended up at your brother’s flat in whatever country you were in at the moment. The legalization of Mick being your medical proxy was iron clad….

You never once considered an actual family member to be there for you. And as it were, your big brother had also aged some. You knew it was him immediately though. You could tell because he sort of looked like you, and his voice sounded like the only other voice besides Mick that you knew.

“Are we going back home?” Your brother was doing the dishes as you sat on the couch, your leg elevated to help relieve some swelling.

Again, you repeated the question. You could hear him turning the water off, and see him drying his hands as he turned to face you.

“No, we’re going to stay here for a little while.”

Confusion washed over you once more. Did Mick call your brother because he was unable to pick you up from the hospital? Did Mick even know you were here? All you could do was nod, while your brother excused himself to go lay down. It had been a long day of driving for him from where he came from. You remained in the quiet of your own company for a moment, trying to think of all the possibilities that could have ended up with you being in some strange apartment in a country you hardly knew. Finally, you pulled out your phone that Mick bought for you, and took a deep breath.

You: Hi Mick

…

Mick: Hello, Schätzen! It makes me very happy to see your text.

You: Really?

…

Mick: Yes, really. I would never lie to you.

You: That’s sweet.

…

…

Mick: I am so sorry I cannot be there to bring you home, but I will be there tonight and we can have dinner and watch a movie, if you would like. But, my very good friend Daniel is going to pick you up from the hospital, okay? He should be there shortly, if you just want to wait in the lobby where it is warm and dry.

You reread the message as your heart rate began to hasten. If Mick had already made arrangements for you to get picked up from the hospital… How did your brother find you?

You: Oh. I thought you called John, because he picked me up from the hospital already. A few hours ago, actually. I got released early and thought maybe you called him since you couldn’t get there in time.

Milliseconds after you pressed send on your text, your phone screen lit up brightly in your face.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Your thumb danced over the bottom of the screen, only to have your desire to hear his voice once again take over your body. Slowly, you accepted the call.

“Schätzen, where are you?” You could hear the panic in his voice. How the fuck were you supposed to know where you were?

“Um… I’m in John’s apartment, I think.” You spoke in a whisper as to not to disturb your resting brother.

“Scheiße, Scheiße, Scheiße (Shit, shit, shit)!”

On the other side of the phone you could hear him getting up and gather his belongings wherever he was. You could pick up bits and pieces of what he was telling someone near him, but not enough to put together a full sentence. You patiently waited on your side of the line for him to speak again. What seemed like forever went by, before he talked to you.

“Can you describe where you are? Can you look outside and see any street names, or building names?” You could tell he was jogging by now.

“I’d have to get up… And my crutches are… On the other side of the room…”

Mick felt absolutely stupid for forgetting that you had a cast on your leg. And he felt even more stupid that he allowed your safety to be compromised… Again. In his defense though, he gave strict instructions to the hospital staff not to allow anyone to take you home besides himself, Sebastian, and Daniel. He even started calling you his Mrs. Schumacher for extra protection, but he’d never tell you that secret.

He was trying as quickly as he could to figure out what the hell went wrong, and how the hell your brother found you. Mick told you he’d have to call you back, but that he promised he would call back in five minutes.

As you waited for him to call back, you decided to try and hobble over to the window. It was gloomy, of course, but you could still see a few things.

House Street

Franklin Street

You decided to text Mick the names of the cross streets, just in case. Glancing around some more through the window, you saw to the far right what looked like a school or a church. You squinted to try and get the name of it.

Longfellow Grade School: Home of The Lions

You also added that to your next text message to Mick, as well as the few models of cars that were sat out on the street. Exhausted now, you hobbled your way back over to the couch and let out all the air you had pent up in your lungs.

INCOMING CALL: Mick Schumacher

swipe to accept

Faster than you did the last time, you accepted the call and raised the phone to your ear.

“Hi Mick, are you okay?”

“The police are on their way, Schätzen. Do not be scared when they arrive, ja? I will be there as fast as I can too. Stay on the line.”

You had a lot of conflicting feelings at this point. Why were the police involved now? Why did Mick sound so afraid? You couldn’t remember the last few years, but now you’re having to deal with all of this? It was as though your body was frozen with a mixture of fear and sadness. You could barely move from your spot on the couch while you anticipated the police’s arrival.

“Okay, Mick. What is going on, though?”

“I will explain everything once I bring you back home, to our home.”

Soon enough, there was a loud knock on the door. You could hear your brother curse loudly from his room as you shrank into the corner of the couch. You were very afraid. Your brother stumbled out of his room, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door to his apartment. One police officer held up a piece of paper to his face, while the other one peered into the space making sure you were alright. The male officer began to speak to your brother about whatever was on the paper, while the female officer approached you with caution.

“Hi, there. My name is Officer Clarkson. Are you alright?” Her voice was calming, and probably the most calming thing about this entire situation. She sat on the couch, keeping a good distance between you.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t know where I am.”

Mick had told the dispatchers that you were in a potentially dangerous situation, and that you had been in a bad car crash a month before resulting in some memory loss. He also told them that you in fact had a restraining order out against your brother, and that he had no clue how he got past the hospital staff.

“That’s okay, you don’t have to know anything right now. I’m just going to sit here with you, while my partner takes care of that young man. Is that alright?” Again, the peaceful cadence of her voice warmed you, and made you feel instantly safe.

“Yes.”

Your head quickly whipped to the side when your brother began yelling at the officer. He was pinned up against the wall, face to it, with his hands behind his back. The male officer handcuffed your brother and escorted him out to the police vehicle. It all happened so fast that you weren’t sure what to make of it. Officer Clarkson said some police speak into her walkie talkie that was on her chest, echoing some of the things being said back to her. She got up from the couch and looked around.

“Can you remember the last time you saw your brother?” You only shook your head in response. Your eyes followed the trail she was walking around the tiny apartment.


After a few more questions that you honestly did not know the answers to, you could hear the radio on her chest go off. The officer grabbed your crutches, and the bag you had at the hospital and escorted you downstairs. There was another police car, an SUV. Two more officers approached you, both women.

“This is Officer Hammond and Officer May. They’re going to drive you home, your real home.”

You thought you might combust trying to keep everyone’s names straight. But you still didn’t have any answers as to why your brother was sitting in the back of a cop car. And as you did so dutifully in the hospital, you did again as you just stood in silence allowing things to be explained to you.

“Your friend Mick - the one who called the us - Will meet you there. Your brother won’t bother you ever again, ma’am.” Officer Clarkson gave a promising smile and nod as she handed your bag to one of the other female officers.


Soon, you were in the backseat of the car as the three of you silently drove to wherever this new place was.

Two hours later, you were woken by Officer May trying coax you out of your sleep. You felt embarrassed for falling asleep, but it seemed like your body needed it. Rubbing your eyes, you looked over the officer’s shoulder to see you were parked in front of a modest one story home. You were in the countryside somewhere, and knowing Mick and his love for the countryside, you could tell that he put a lot of thought into this home. Even if it was going to be temporary, you enjoyed the thought of recovering somewhere private and secluded.

Officer May helped you out of the car and handed you your crutches. The sound of another car hastily pulling up made all three of your head’s turn sharply to the right. In true Mick fashion, he sported a big red truck as he parked in haphazardly. He couldn’t move fast enough though, as he jumped out of the car not even closing the door behind him. Mick ran up to you, his hands frantically searching your face for any wounds. He was rambling in German… Italian… Maybe even French as he brought you into a much needed embrace. He kissed the top of your head and looked at you with nothing but regret.

“Smidge, I am so sorry. I really do not know how this could have happened, but you are safe now. Okay? Completely safe from everything.” Mick profusely thanked the officers, and made a note to call and thank the other officers as well.

Mick helped you inside, before returning to the officers so that he could speak to them about the situation. They assured him that they would look into just how your brother was able to pick you up and take you out of the hospital. He wanted nothing more than answers at this point. (Join the club, right?)

You were still on edge when you heard the door open, your flinching making it clear. Mick walked towards you as cautiously as he could.

“It is just me, Smidge; Just Mick.” He stepped in front of you, his face softened by the sight of you. “I am sorry I scared you.”

“It’s just been a long day…” Mick led you carefully to the couch so that you could sit and rest your leg. Propping your leg up on some pillows, Mick moved to the kitchen to get you some water and some food.

The house was nicely decorated with accents of a familiar shade of red all around. The couch beneath you felt like a marshmallow compared to last couch you were sat on, and the hospital bed you had quite become accustomed to for the last month. Mick returned with a water bottle and a few snacks he might think you would want. Sitting beside you, but keeping a respectful space between you, the blond haired boy rubbed a very tired hand over his face. Leaning his head back onto the back of the couch and stretching out his arms too, he sighed a sigh of relief and closed his eyes. You watched him carefully, and more meticulously than you had in the hospital.

You liked the way his nose was slightly bigger than normal and the way that it curved downwards at the end. You noticed how his darkened blond hair curled ever so slightly at the tips. His lips were a pretty shade of pink too. You wondered if you ever had the pleasure of kissing them. His neck was bigger than you last could remember it to be. Mick’s Adam’s Apple moving up and down as he swallowed, sucking the insides of left side of his mouth. Mick always did that when he was overworked.

“Sind Sie gestresst (Are you stressed)?” Mick just hummed in response, your body relaxing at the familiar sound.

You remember how you reacted when the doctor hummed. Shuddering away that terrible thought, you scooted closer to him.

“Mir wird es gut gehen (I will be okay).” His eyes were still closed as he responded.

You took a beat and took a nice long deep breath. You remember what he had written in his letter. He probably had to leave his work to come find you. And the fact that he did made you feel something you hadn’t felt before - or at least couldn’t remember feeling. This man has always cared for you. Since you were children, he has always put you first and always made sure you were taken care of in every sense of the word. He was the only thing that connected you to your past and all of your lost memories. And surely he knew the weight of it all, yet he didn’t seem to be overwhelmed by it. He would carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if that meant he got to see you happy.

Something in the back of your head was telling you to reject these new feelings, though. You couldn’t tell what it was that was making you want to hide your emotions. The pull was strong. It was like The Force, pulling you into a dark deep alley where you were always meant to be: Alone.

You did your best to shake the distressing thought. Going back to happier things, you recited the letter in your head as you decided to be brave. After all, you didn’t survive a high speed car crash for nothing, right?

Nodding assertively to yourself, you managed to wiggle into Mick’s side. Your leg was still propped up, just now onto the coffee table in front of you. As best as you could and as comfortably too, you tucked yourself into him and his arm wrapped around you as if it were a dance you two had done a million times before. Your eyelids began to feel heavier and heavier as you felt the warmth of his body warm yours. It was not secret that the both of you were dog-tired as neither of you said a word.

The only thing surrounding you now was the sound of rain hitting the roof and someone’s arm wrapped tightly around you. And while you may not have any memories of the last few years, now was as good as time as ever to begin making new ones.

[angelfrogs]

THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN AND I SHALL DELIVER!! Also I’m going to disclaimer that I don’t know if this is actually a controversial take per say but I have literally never seen another person suggest this and while I’m not crazy deep in the fandom uh I’m around. Second disclaimer to anime onlys that everything I’m saying is all about stuff that hasn’t been animated yet but yeah. Okay disclaimers over.

I think he’s fucking lying. And I don’t just mean that he makes a liar of himself later on, we all know that, I mean in this moment I think he’s lying and he knows he’s lying. I’ve thought this since I first read this scene.

Now I know what you may be thinking: tumblr user angelfrogs, why the fuck would the devil be lying about wanting human suffering when not only has it been shown thus far that all devils have at least some base level of hostility and hatred for humans AND his hatred of humans directly ties into chainsaw man’s whole thing where everyone who hates each other ends up loving each other?? Well I’m glad you asked!

First and foremost I think the scene itself is formatted extremely strangely to get the idea that the Angel Devil is just like other devils across. In fact I think the way that the scene plays out points more evidence to Angel being weird. Before refusing to mercy kill the dying civilian devil hunter Angel calls Aki over to show him. This leads Aki to ask Angel to mercy kill the other hunter, leading to this line, and then Aki mercy killing the hunter himself. If Angel really wanted to watch the unnamed hunter suffer until he died why would he call Aki over? Aki was busy and distracted, by the time he was done dealing with the fallout of killing that devil the hunter could have already been dead. You can make the argument that Angel called Aki over solely for the narrative purpose of refusing to mercy kill the hunter, but there are much easier ways to get Aki to go over there that make Angel’s “belief that humans should die in pain” more believable. It would be just as easy for Aki to notice that Angel is once again not doing his job and notice the dying hunter when he going to berate Angel. Or simply for him to notice Angel is staring at something and ask what. Angel calling Aki over (Aki who has a reputation for being not only a devil hater and a workaholic but self sacrificing and emotional) doesn’t make sense unless it’s to see what Aki will do about it. To see if it’ll piss him off, if he’ll try to save his fellow man, or if he’ll mercy kill him himself. Furthermore Angel shows no dissatisfaction or complaint when Aki chooses to mercy kill the hunter and as we know Angel complains all the time whenever he doesn’t like something. To me this has always read as Angel getting Aki to mercy kill the hunter so he doesn’t have to. Angel hates using his powers, we learn later that his kills haunt him, that he feels guilt over them. Later during the bomb devil fight he comforts a dying woman he uses to revive Denji, he apologizes to her and tells her she’ll get to heaven. These aren’t the actions of someone “thinks all humans should suffer as they die.”

So why lie? Why confirm the beliefs of a guy who hates him when there are other ways to refuse to use his powers?

Because he wants Aki to kill him.

Or at least he wants Aki to have Makima kill him. (Note: I also think another reason why Angel says this is because he wants it to be true, he doesn’t remember why he feels guilty. He doesn’t understand why he feels different from other devils. He wants to not feel the way he does. But I digress.) Angel knows Aki is a hardass who does not like him. Aki had already threatened to report him and get Angel killed at the beginning of this chapter, and Angel wants to die. He says this to get at Aki, to make Aki report him to Makima as useless partner who is hostile to humans. But as we all know that doesn’t quite work.

So yeah that’s my hot take :) I know everyone loves to use this scene to show Angel’s growth/compare him to Aki and his devil hatred but uhhhh this guy is fucking lying! Thank u for reading u_u

Would anyone want to hear. My most controversial chainsaw man opinion? A silly hot take I have that does not matter but means everything to me?

[h3xa413a]

Songs i think certain Genshin characters would listen to / fit them !! hcs

(this is assuming they have access to modern day music) includes links to the songs! formatting is probably weird bc I’m on mobile :(

a/n: this whole post is just semi comprehensive rambling

Furina 🍰:

Okay I’m gonna give her two just because I love her. 1st one “Chocolate Love” by Girls Generation. I’m sorry I just see her as a kpop girlie 😭 I can’t really describe why I think she’d like the song besides the fact it has ‘chocolate’ in the name. (also ik what the actual lyrics mean by idc!!) And the 2nd one is “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper. My reasoning behind this is because Furina just wants to have fun!! And if anyone disagrees that she wouldn’t like it… ur wrong!! /hj

Lyney 🪄:

Okay I KNOW the popular choice is “Circus” by Britney Spears. But personally whenever I listen to “The Magic” by Lola Blanc, I think of him. This is not to say the first song doesn’t fit him, because it does but the second song is terribly underrated and i really want to see edits of him to “The Magic” ☹️

Neuvillette 🦦:

“The World We Knew” by Frank Sinatra. Look this is the song was mainly chosen because it makes me think of Neuvfuri and because every single classical song has like 20 words in the title 🤬 Anyways I’d like to think Neuvi plays 30s-60s music while relaxing and doing paperwork, along with classical music too of course. Old man vibes 👴🏻

Xinyan 🎸:

“Bring Me To Life” by Evanescence. I KNOW FOR A FACT SHE LOVES EVANESCENCE !!! Xinyan loves rock n roll, but you wanna know what she loves more??? A female fronted band. Xinyan for president ‼️🗳️ She would would definitely try and learn all their songs on her guitar. Tbh i think she would like 99% of their discography. I just chose the most popular song 💀

Dottore 💉:

“Puttin’ on the ritz” by Taco. Hear me out, he would totally play this song and dance a little while moving around in his laboratory. Sometimes when he’s feeling particularly good/excited he’ll sing along when he’s torturing experimenting on someone. Lmao imagine him torturing someone and he tells them to stop screaming so he can hear the song 😭

[junos-jrabbles]

Authors note ,, i’m gonna write sniper pet play and call it puppy love and you’re all going to nod in agreement, yes, yes, also i love titling these random lyrics from the songs im listening to, so, if you ever see a fic called ra ra rasputin please clapHAHAHA mobile post again sorry for formatting ily all

~~~

I know where you’re vulnerable,

Sniper x GNC Reader with a strap, pegging :) 1.8k words ish

18+ BELOW, SMUT, MINORS DNI GET OUT, PLEASE, NOW.

He's whining, moaning in words undecipherable, foreign tongue known and heard only by the pillow beneath his grovelling maw, which of course, in time, became covered in spittle and drool.

“Please—” Please? That's all he could really mewl out beneath you as you rimmed another finger along the tight muscles of his ass.

“Please, please—” His body would shake, trembling how you'd never seen it do so before, every movement with such a charged force behind it that you had to steady him with the warm heel of your palm to his back.

“It feels, fuck it feels so… so good?” He whines, almost like he's confused about just how easily you've gone about unravelling him.

You let him wonder, obviously, playing with his stoic demeanour was nearly your favourite part of this, watching such a brutal, cold man beg for pleasure only you could give him. You press in a second finger.

“You're doing so well, sweetheart.” You coo, and it's true, he’d almost kicked you the first time you tried, and there hadn't been a twitch like that since. You can feel every pulsation of his body around your digits as you pump them slowly, a scissoring motion stretching the gap, eliciting small panted gasps, and moans.

It was undeniably fun to see him like this, of course. His tanned hands gripping the sheets as he bucked back into your hand, practically humping into what was beneath him. Pathetic, nearly.

He doesn't respond to your praise, not much outside of noncommittal pitching tones and curt growls, thighs twitching at every brush of your arm.

“I…” You pause for a moment as he speaks, but grind the pads of your fingers against the warm flesh of his insides, free hand massaging into his back.

“I need… need to—” He pulls his head from this pillow, licking his lips to disconnect the trailing drool.

“Please, fuck, darl— fuck me?" The words fall from his mouth weakly as he blurrily sees you grinning wolfishly behind him, a strained moan escaping with his heaved breath as he feels you pull away, suddenly feeling much, much emptier than he had moments before. He shifts his weight on the mattress, his hips feeling like they'd pop right out at any moment.

Instead of having to deal with sore legs, he thinks, he grunts, huffs, and flops himself onto his back. Staring up at you, he's starry eyed as he watches you pull an object from the bedside drawer, and clip it onto your crotch. “You're… it'll fit right?” He huffs, a tremble raising goosebumps across his skin, he rubs his arms to smooth them back down.

“I’ll make sure it doesn't hurt too bad, yeah?” A noncommital answer that did nothing to quell the stirring, burning ache in his stomach.

“Stay relaxed for me baby, tell me if you don't like it, okay?” The way you lower yourself down to his neck as you whisper isn't helping either, he adjusts, jutting his hips towards yours as you nip at the tender flesh of his neck, settling between his thighs. Your hands work at bringing them around your waist, then he feels your nails scoring into the meat of his hip, and he winces.

He's doing his best, he's being a good boy, he knows, he knows he is, god does it feel weird to hear that… but, it feels good, too. What's weirder is the thrumming pain that made him squeal as he felt the squishy silicone tip just barely push past his asshole.

“Stop— hah, wait— waitwait—” He's got a fistful of your hair, and you biting into his neck, though you still your hips, lapping at the fresh marks you're leaving. He squirms beneath it all, every feeling enough to send pleasure shooting through his entire body, and he's sure he'll be spent in minutes if he can't keep up how he'd like to. He breathes, steadily as he can, eased by your quiet praise and guidance, sweet utterances of calmness that make him almost forget he asked you to plow him mere hours ago.

Moments later, he's ready, wriggling down onto you, eager for the stretch that he knew would come. “Gentle, roo, please…” Nothing much more than a weak, kitten's mewl against your skin as he buries his face in your neck, kissing and biting at wherever he could. Next, he'd growl like an animal, pinned beneath you, stretched where he hadn't been before, trying not to howl out in fused pleasure and pain as you slowly hilted the strapon inside him.

Once you were fully seated inside, you sat back, the slight pull winning a gasped groan from the man beneath you, followed by one louder as you wrapped your hand around the erect length of his cock. You steady yourself with one hand on his thigh, gently pumping him with the other.

“I'll move when you're ready, dingo.” You whisper into the warm air between you, licking your lips as you stare him down, like a lion with a wounded gazelle. You can see why he's so into acting like you're something he's caught, earned, hunted. It's invigorating.

He feels it too, you're sure, the way he arches himself, neck bared, whimpering soft pleads like he's searching for your mercy. You've not even begun. You hear something of an affirmative, and he taps you in quick succession, allowing you to pull your hips away, before gently pushing back in.

There's some resistance, of course, and you're incredibly slow in your movements. He was still getting used to it after all, if the leering grimace on his face was anything to go by. But, with each achingly slow thrust, he'd gently buck into your palm as you stroked him in time with the movements, hilting again, and rewarding him with a slow swipe across his tip with your thumb each time.

Tears were pricking the corners of his eyes as he squeezed his thighs around you, rocking into your slow movements as if eeking out every last drop of pleasure he could get.

“F-faster, please—” You slide your steadying hand up his thigh, and to his waist, lurching over him as you grin,

“Well, since you asked so nicely…”

He felt a tight squeeze of pressure as nearly the entire length of the strap left his core, and promptly pressed back in, your hand squeezing around his cock practically stopping all the blood flowing to his head. The thinking one. “Yes! Yes, yes— Thank, fuck— Thank you!” He was glad you were in the camper, god, all this noise would be a hell of a thing to have to explain.

You snap your hips into his at a nearly impressive speed, keeping your attention on him as you moan out in flagrancy in return, watching how he reduces down into a simmering puddle of a man so easily. His hands, lazily twitching fingers against your skin where occasionally, nails dip crescents into the flesh, hold purchase around your waist, your arms, your chest, wherever he can hold, reaching out to you as the pleasure wracks his entire self.

Barely a few minutes pass with your blistering pace leaving him shaking, howling, feeling like he'll tear from the inside out, with his cock throbbing, twitching and leaking in your tight grasp, until he's groaning out your name, and cursing you and your beauty. “Whhoah, Oh fuck me!” He cries out, laughing through each syllable and panting heaved breaths as his thighs tighten around your waist, urging you to slow down some. “Please I'm— Not yet, I— A little more, please!” This, you tut in response to, though obey his grasp and slow your thrusts, returning to that slow, grinding pace that you knew hit all the right spots, given the way he’d squirm and beg beneath you as you hit skin to skin.

You run your hands along his sides, pressing hungry kisses to his neck, trailing to his chest, placing the most tender, and loving kisses he’d ever felt along the scars lining his front. “We’ve got all the time in the world, beauty. You know I’d stop time for you.” Your voice came from you in a low, sultry purr as you nipped at his skin, tugging the pert pink flesh of his nipple between your teeth.

All he could do was groan, whining out your name oh so beautifully as he felt himself stretch, pulse, and clench around the length of your strap. His fingers dig deep into your skin as he tries to stop himself from reaching down and tugging himself off, scoring jagged red lines into your sides.

He brings one arm away to cover his face, forearm laid over his flushed cheeks only for a moment before he feels your hand around his wrist.

“Quit it, roo… I'm embarrassed…” He whined through a nearly drunken sounding giggle, moaning out raggedly as you murmured over him, “Let me see you.” Less of a suggestion, more of a command, and you pin his arms back down to his sides, kissing back up to his neck.

“You're all mine, aren't you?”

You bite, softly at first, but when he doesn't respond, “Answer me.” There's a droning whine from him as his hips buck beneath you, and you bite down harder, nearly hard enough to draw blood. You don't think he'd mind being prettied up by his own mess.

“I—, yours, yours…” He croons, arms scrambling for purchase around your back, his legs locking in just the same way that forced you as deep as possible into him,

“I'm, fuck! I'm yours!” He smothers his face in your neck, taking in everything as he feels himself coming undone. Everything about you just sent him over the edge so easily, how you felt, smelt, how you teased and touched him like he’d never felt before, love he'd not felt outside of drunken flings years ago.

He thinks this is the hardest he's ever came, clinging onto you while you pump fervently at his cock, the motion slickened by the seed that seeped from his bellend.

“That's it, there you go,” He shook in your arms like a wet chihuahua, grunting and humming against you in time with his ragged, lazy thrusts up into your hand.

“That’s a good boy…” You squeeze him one last time before you remove your hand, giggling as the scruff of his growing-in beard scratched at your collarbone. You look down between your warm, sweaty bodies and note the mess made between you.

You bring your sullied hand up and to your mouth, lapping off the majority of what was there before wiping it off on the bed sheets, nasty, but they'd be washed later anyway.

He can just barely peek his eyes open to watch you, shuddering at the sight of you cleaning himself off your fingers, making sure to get most of every slick drop.

“Fuck me,” His legs shake as they drop from around your waist, he brings you in for a tight hug, holding you to his chest. “Well, you just did— But that… that was good.” He purrs, kissing along the side of your face, and you let yourself melt into him, gently petting him all over, making sure you're both settled after the big event.

“Well, maybe we'll have to give it another go sometime, hm?”

~~~

Pry these emdashes from my cold dead fucking hands!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Anyway is there a way to indent on tumblr? I like how it looks in my google docs, but people say it looks bad when posted online (a03, here) but looks good in books, i think it looks nice in general tbh

sorry if the ending is rushed I'm actually returning to the ice age, its fucking freezing cold here

[awaywiththe]

thanks Anya <3 tbh this was harder than I expected and I Did need to enlist the help of The Sibling a lil bit

Gwen Tennyson (Ben 10: Alien Force); Alec Lightwood (The Mortal Instruments); Grantaire (Les Misérables); Stanley Uris (It); Tori Spring (Heartstopper); Natalie Goodman (Next to Normal)

no pressure tags: @wryterofworlds @spacechampion @fagzone @yamatohotsuin and anyone else who would like to participate!

tag game: post images of some of your “they’re just like me” characters

tagged by: @the-hopeless-fanboy and @venuslovesfrogs

nightmare blunt rotation

tagging: @beetle-goth @devourerofcheesecake @its-kinda-snowy @grand-taire @oddlittlestories @coop-of-coffee and anyone else who wants to :))

[gotta-pet-em-all]

Okay nerds. This is… going to be loose as all hell. So. Sorry. I also don’t have sources for most of this stuff. Or the proper format. The wifi here is bad at academic journals and I don’t feel like squinting at a bunch of crusty pdf documents. This is generally going to be about broad cultural trends and disability theory. 

So history is big and weird and cultural. And what I’m going to be talking about actually goes back to the great Kalosian war. We don’t even have records of who they were fighting, not to mention borders have changed a lot and their enemies may no longer exist. There are theories, sure, but frankly I don’t care and this ain’t about them anyways. 

No one agrees when it was, but at some point in history, there was a shift away from battling with weapons like swords and knives, and towards Pokémon battling. And that particular shift is so so important for disabled history, because it’s something that allowed disabled people more social mobility. 

I’ll back up a bit. So, in what I will be referring to as the Sword Era, monarchies were the default form of government because they’re stable and decisive. People often needed swift governments because they were often under attack from their neighbors. 

Alola was. Frankly pretty damn isolationist due to their geographic location, but I’ll get to that in a second. 

So. Sword Era meant that warriors would have the most upward social mobility. You could gain power and glory by honing your body and proving yourself in battle! Scholars had this to a lesser extent, being good choices for advisors and members of the court, but they were typically too eccentric (read: likely autistic) to participate in the highly neurotypical social structures of the upper court, and it was more common to simply have one at your manor. 

This is the part where I cut in and go on a tangent about how there’s this pervasive idea that all physically disabled people are gloriously intelligent prodigies, trapped in a body unsuited for athletics but with a brilliant intellect and a quick wit. That’s straight up not true and it’s confirmation bias. Sure, you had a decent number of physically disabled scholars. But you also had disabled people who were more like me. Who had brain fog or other cognitive impairments, who had undiagnosed or unmedicated tismHD, who were in so much pain that they couldn’t think properly.

Those people? They stayed at home, with their family as caretakers. And… hm. This wasn’t great. I’m skimming over this one because it hits a little close to home lol.

Alolan royalty was largely about distribution of resources and conflict resolution. And as technology progressed, they were able to delegate more of their work to specialize committees that could make better decisions about things like urban planning, and this lifted a lot of the responsibility from them. Alolan royals were scholars first and foremost, who trained in geography and politics and alchemy and ecology, and there are records of a good deal of them being…frankly unhappy and overwhelmed by their lot in life. 

That said, Alolans were largely community oriented, which caused some large cultural clashes when the Kalosian war arrived. So disabled people in Alola were seen as people for their entire community to take care of, rather than for their family alone to help. And this means that disabled Alolans, historically, have some advantages! If you’re disabled in Alola, there are fewer elevators and wheelchair accessible doors, but people are a lot more likely to open doors for you or offer a ride pokemon to assist you up the stairs.

That said. Because Alolans are also very traditional, they’re actually behind in accessibility compared to other regions. They’re just very good at compensating. There’s a project in the works that aims to find a way to preserve some of the linguistic quirks of alolan in braille forme, so that people have better ways to connect to their dual cultural identity as both blind/visually impaired AND alolan. I’m part of the kickstarter for that one, so I can get a textured “Welcome to alola” sticker when they move into the next phase.

So, when and how did the sword era end? For this, we actually have a myth in the Veilstone museum. It’s muddied somewhat by being oral history, but it goes like this:

A young man, callow and foolish in innocence, came to own a sword.

With it, he smote Pokémon, which gave sustenance, with carefree abandon.

Those not taken as food, he discarded, with no afterthought.

The following year, no Pokémon appeared. Larders grew bare.

The young man, seeking the missing Pokémon, journeyed afar.

Long did he search. And far and wide, too, until one he did find.

Asked he, "Why do you hide?" To which the Pokémon replied...

"If you bear your sword to bring harm upon us, with claws and fangs, we will exact a toll."

"From your kind we will take our toll, for it must be done."

"Done it must be to guard ourselves and for it, I apologize."

To the skies, the young man shouted his dismay.

"In having found the sword, I have lost so much."

"Gorged with power, I grew blind to Pokémon being alive."

"I will never fall savage again. This sword I denounce and forsake."

"I plead for forgiveness, for I was but a fool."

So saying, the young man hurled the sword to the ground, snapping it.

Seeing this, the Pokémon disappeared to a place beyond seeing...

So! Some people think it may be a literal interpretation of the hero of Galar, or the mad creator of the Ultimate Weapon in Kalos. Other people think it’s a more fictional way of processing what happened. I don’t care enough to get into the discourse, but the point is, we can clearly point to the end of the Sword Era.

And It’s The Pokeball Revolution.

If we take the interpretation of the myth to be figurative, it’s about not only overhunting and violence for the sake of violence, but shame. People were ashamed, the land was ravaged, and they were starting to pay the price. We don’t know what triggered it, and we suspect that it was very deliberately forgotten about. This is when you see the Evocation Movement in art, which frequently depicted moments in everyday life, or sleeping pokemon, as if trying to preserve and appreciate this joy after taking it for granted.

Shortly following this was the Alchemic Renaissance, during which people started really trying to study and categorize pokemon. No one had taken on anything as ambitious as the compiled regional pokedex yet, but there were scholars who studied one pokemon or one type and did so intensely.

And alongside this, you started seeing people get portraits done with their pokemon. Not just official ones with big strong pokemon, but things like the Old Man’s Treasure1, in which the treasure is a sprigatito that he is eagerly showing off to those around him. 

And these are things that have survived! These tell us that people were learning to live alongside and love their pokemon! We also see the precursors to the modern pokeball, which were carved from marble or wood.

Later, we get the apricorn, which makes pokeballs much more accessible. And this is where disabled history really kicks up a notch, and we get the Crip Revolution, a social movement dedicated to disabled people and their support pokemon finally gaining independence. They got together and shared their experiences, and a couple alchemists of the time started listening and finding a niche.

But it wasn’t always good. Some of them shared experiences with abusive caretakers, or realized that they were being abused because they’d gained context for what happened. And we started getting this massive social question of whether the family caretaking model was really the best. The medical community was surging in knowledge of how to treat people, and the disabled community started offering their services as lab rattata. Some of them helped with advancements that are used even today, such as the prototypes for a shirt buttoner for those with low coordination. But there was a rather high profile case, the Fever Night2, where this didn’t happen, and it prompted the medical community to seriously re-examine their ethics considerations and how they conducted experiments. They did manage to save most of the victims in time, but the project was shut down and its assets sold off.

Another thing that comes into play here is accessibility. Because if a rapidash hates those stairs, and you build a ramp, a disabled person may also benefit from the ramp. Incorporating pokemon into society actually expanded the public’s view of what body types need to be accommodated for, even if those are relatively uncommon, like dwarfism. Travel became easier, and cultures mixed more even in the same region.

This is getting long, oops. Anyways, disabled people used their newfound freedom to start participating in pokemon battles, and this was generally a lot better! Blind/deaf trainers struggled a lot with this format, and made their own organizations, but social mobility was becoming less of an issue. Now, it was about traveling and independence and showing off their skills.

Another thing with travel is the use of Hidden Machines. These are gradually being phased out as many regions begin adopting the Ride Pager system, but a Hidden Machine is a way of standardizing the safest way possible to make a route accessible. Many pokemon are able to cut down a tree, but those with HM training are shown to be less likely to injure themselves or their trainer doing so.

One last thing before I go. About the future.

People have been leaking documents online after the Flare bullshit. And, uh. There was a set of “Ugly Laws”3 that said the quiet part aloud. That in the new world they wanted to make, disabled people would be committing a legal offense just by existing in public. The idea was that being disabled was inherently begging for pity and making people uncomfortable. And I guess it just goes to show that even an organization that claimed to want a better future didn’t understand how to make it, and just wanted to get rid of inconvenient discomfort. 

We don’t have a lot of answers for the disabled future. Is it ethical to cure Deafness, to give a baby a colchear implant? What about the currently unavailable possibility of getting something similar when you’re older? Will certain disabilities be cured out of existence, out of community? What happens if someone doesn’t want the cure they are offered? Can we really find an accessibility solution for ancient ruins? Should we?

Whatever happens. You just have to keep fighting, one day at a time.

//ooc stuff under cut

1.https://useum.org/artwork/Old-Man-s-Treasure-Das-Katzchen-Karl-Gussow-1876 

2. Fever Night is fictional, and not elaborated on much. It referred to a series of experiments on curing “the malaise,” which is generally thought to be clinical depression. Due to a misunderstanding in dosages, the patients all developed Serotonin Syndrome and wandered the streets in a daze. Worth noting that this was done out of genuine desire to help these people. In the wake of Fever Night, it was decided that more thorough testing was required before administering medicines.

3. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ugly_law Ugly laws are very real, and very much happened more recently than anyone would like to admit. The last one was repealed in Chicago, in 1974.

[krscblw]

Ministry Perfume Associations

I’m back yet again with more thoughts about Ghost and perfume! This time it’s fragrances from my own collection that remind me of various places in my headcanon of the Ministry. (Usually these lists are mostly made up of perfumes that I don’t actually have, but this time I can vouch for all of these! I didn’t include any that I thought weren’t good.)

For the sake of organization these are divided into places in the New Wing (the most recent addition to the Ministry), the Old Wing (the original Ministry buildings), and the grounds (gardens, forests, etc). And as always, if you have your own thoughts or want me to do more of this, please let me know! I would love to talk more about Ghost and perfume.

(also: so sorry for the weird formatting, idk how to fix it on mobile but it should be fine on desktop)

New Wing:

Library: old books, wood, dust, paper, ink

The library is part of the New Wing of the Ministry, although it’s not very new anymore. Built in the early 1900s, the New Wing is all soaring ceilings, stained glass windows, and intricate woodworking, done in the Art Nouveau style of the time. The library’s floor-to-ceiling shelves are full of books ranging from ancient esoteric tomes to modern fiction paperbacks, interspersed with desks and secluded reading nooks. The library also houses the Ministry’s private collection of artifacts - some occasionally used for ritual purposes, some purely academic in nature. The library is always very still, with the occasional susurrus of turning pages and quiet voices. It smells like polished wood, faint dust, and the leather and paper of old books. 

Library Ghost - Poesie 

marshmallows, books, ink, polished wood

Myself Invisible - Poesie 

stacked books, spilled ink, black tea, violets

Bibliotheca - Alkemia  

leather-bound books, vintage vinyl records, mahogany, fountain pen ink, black tea, plum brandy

Canoodling in the Library - Nui Cobalt  

old books, mahogany shelves, fallen leaves, ancient stone stairs, amber resin, warm skin musk, vetiver

Miskatonic University - Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab  

irish coffee, dusty tomes, polished oakwood halls

Personal Quarters: carved wood furniture, tea and coffee, soft bedding, books and clutter, spices, vanilla

The personal quarters are also in the New Wing, separated into human quarters and ghoul quarters (for everyone’s comfort and safety). The personal quarters tend to feel very cozy and lived-in, as they are the rooms most frequently used. The furniture is comfortable, often occupied by off-duty siblings or ghouls, and the arch windows overlooking the gardens and forest cast soft beams of light onto the wood floors in the afternoon. The siblings’ quarters tend to smell like the possessions of those who occupy them - books, scented candles, tea and coffee, and faint spices from the small kitchen. The ghouls’ quarters are similar, but with the scents of various elements - smoke, greenery, damp stone, fresh air, resin.

Mysterious Fossils - Poesie  

smoked black tea with creamy vanilla oat milk, a cashmere sweater, tortoiseshell glasses, a cedar chest containing fossils encased in amber, sandstone, and limestone

Whisper Your Bitter Things - Poesie  

pressed coffee beans, dried clove bud and cassia bark, jasmine, neroli, roasted vanilla pods

Grey Cat - Nui Cobalt  

smoked vanilla, marshmallows, fresh blueberries, lavender, earl grey tea

Kensington - Fantome  

earl grey tea, cashmere, vanilla bean, cedar, rose petals, mandarin zest, pink peppercorn, bergamot

Ouija - Possets  

cedar, rosewood, black vanilla, fat vanilla, rose, black silk, coriander

Our Days Bewitched - PULP Fragrance  

walnuts, brandy, roasted cocoa beans, copal, cardamom, labdanum, black vanilla, aged oak barrels

Old Wing:

Chapel: resinous incense, polished wood, wine, smoke

The chapel is part of the Old Wing. The exact dates of its construction could probably be found somewhere in the Ministry’s records, but the gothic architecture suggests it’s been there for at least 500 years. The cold grandeur of the exterior’s intricate stonework and vibrant stained glass windows is matched in the chapel. It is perpetually cold, made fully of elaborately carved stone, and colorful sunlight filters through the enormous stained glass windows onto the altar and the pews. The heavy, still air smells like residual incense smoke, snuffled candles, fragrant wood, and ritual wine.

Holy Terror - Arcana Wildcraft  

burning frankincense, sandalwood, myrrh, dusty beeswax candles

Anastasia the Patrician* - Deconstructing Eden

paper, ink, frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, copal, rose, juniper berries, wine

Leo* - Deconstructing Eden

frankincense, myrrh, benzoin, amber, liatrix, blood cedar, blond tobacco absolute, sweet spices, honey

Parlour - Fantome  

mahogany, rosewood, burning incense, vetiver

*i think these were discontinued? sorry

Crypt: cold damp stone, smoke, dust, ashes

The crypt is the only place in the Ministry that truly reflects its age. It feels like it has been standing, underground, inhabited only by the dead, for hundreds of years. It’s well-maintained, but perpetually freezing cold and slightly damp. The stone walls are minimally decorated, and the candles in their niches do very little to illuminate the cavernous space. The air is weighty, and all sound is muffled. The crypt smells like damp stone, cold air, sweet dust, and smoke.

Gargoyle - Nui Cobalt  

rain, lavender, cathedral incense, beeswax candles, ancient stone

Summoning/Ritual Chambers: cold stone, ritual incense, blood, wine, smoke

The ritual chambers are where summonings and rituals are performed. They are where every new ghoul comes into the world, and, more rarely, where they’re banished from it. The walls and floor are stone, and there are no windows. When in use, the chambers are lit by dozens of flickering candles, some in sconces, some piled onto tables, and years of melted wax have created puddles and formations on the walls and floor. The air is dense, thick with dust, herb smoke, ritual incense, and the scent of dried blood.

Baba Yaga - Fantome  

black and red musk, smoke, cracked bones, cardamom, wood, animal skins, mugwort

Conjure - Solstice Scents  

vanilla, amber, cedar, spices, cauldron smoke

Gothique - Alkemia  

frankincense, styrax benzoin, myrrh, cassia, spikenard, canella, liquidambar orientalis, labdanum, atlas cedar, vetiver

A City on Fire - Imaginary Authors  

cade oil, spikenard, cardamom, clearwood, dark berries, labdanum, a burnt match

Vassago - Fantome  

A silver dagger, red wine, blackberries, cloves, orange peel, blood, a black mirror

Grounds:

Gardens: dirt, greenery, sun, fruit, flowers

The Ministry sits on a huge expanse of land. Most of it is still wild and forested, but there is a good amount of it dedicated to gardens, both decorative and functional. 

Decorative Gardens:

The decorative gardens are lush and heavy with flowers and fresh greenery most of the year, tended to by the Earth ghouls. Some of them are small cloistered gardens, decorated with statues and fountains, and some are larger, intended for gatherings or wandering alone. The decorative gardens tend to smell like fragrant herbs and flowers - sweet jasmine and magnolia, heavy white lilies and heirloom roses. 

Basilica - Milano Fragranze 

thyme, rosemary, incense, milk, labdanum, cedarwood, cypriol oil

Fox in the Flowerbed - Imaginary Authors  

jasmine, tulips, frankincense, wildflower honey, pink peppercorns, silver thistle, alpine air

Isabella - Possets 

rose, light resin, white tea, honey, cream musk, spices

Olwyn - Fantome  

magnolia blossoms, white lilies, jasmine, gardenia, buttery vanilla, myrrh, benzoin, orange blossom

Silver Narcissus - Possets  

silver base, narcissus

Functional Gardens:

The functional gardens supply the flowers for decoration within the Ministry as well as the herbs and most of the produce for the kitchens. The gardens, orchards, and greenhouses are managed by the Earth ghouls, and yield so much produce that, despite the relatively small size of the gardens and the relatively large size of the Ministry, they still end up with extra. That surplus is sold at the local farmers’ market to unsuspecting humans who wonder in open amazement about the size and quality of this mysterious farm’s produce.

Sundrunk - Imaginary Authors  

neroli, rhubarb, honeysuckle, rose water, orange zest

Drider Crossing Guard - Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab  

dry, earthy fig, black pepper, nutmeg, black plum tea

Wilcox’s - Solstice Scents  

dry woods, fresh herbs, dried herbs, warm spices, sweet annie, sage, rosewood 

Lake: water, trees, evergreens, greenery, stone

The Ministry’s lake is very deep, cold, and still. It’s objectively beautiful, with its glassy blue-gray waters and lush vegetation, but something about it feels dangerous. The pebbled shores are visited only by the bravest siblings, and even then only on the hottest and most desperate of summer days. The water ghouls, on the other hand, love it (which is possibly why the siblings tend to stay away). It is located at the border between the new and old forests, and its mossy banks are surrounded by evergreens, ferns, and rushes. It smells green and a little salty.

Villa Diodati - Poesie  

wild rosemary, balsam pine, crystal clear lakewater, dry, dark vanilla

Every Storm a Serenade - Imaginary Authors  

danish spruce, eucalyptus, vetiver, calone, ambergris, baltic sea mist

The Forest: trees, dirt, damp air, greenery, wildflowers, fungi

New Forest:

The new forest is a nickname given to the shallow edges of the forest that are closest to the Ministry. The trees are widely spaced, and the ground is thickly carpeted with grasses and wildflowers. Sunlight filters easily through the sparse leaf canopy and illuminates the fallen logs and patches of moss that make popular spots for siblings and ghouls looking to unwind. The air is light, and the breeze carries with it the scent of fresh greenery, tree sap, and sweet flowers. 

Cape Heartache - Imaginary Authors  

douglas fir, pine resin, western hemlock, vanilla leaf, strawberry, old growth, mountain fog

Dendrophilia - Nui Cobalt  

moss-covered deadfall, birchwood and pine, lingering resins, sunlight through the leaves, a trace of woodsmoke, faint vetiver and cedar

Duende - Fantome  

oakmoss, cedar, fir, labdanum, benzoin, tree sap, wild violets, lilac

Solovey - Fantome 

black amber, violets, black currants, espresso, labdanum, black agarwood, tobacco

Old Forest:

If you go far enough into the new forest, you will eventually get to the old forest. The trees are bigger and closer together, the sunlight struggles to reach the ground, and there are more mushrooms than flowers. The air is damp and cool and smells like fungus, loam, and rotting leaves. The old forest is avoided by siblings both because of the unsettling watched feeling any human who enters feels and the unspoken knowledge that if you don’t come back out no one will go looking for you. 

Gaea - Alkemia  

forest loam, ferns, decaying leaves, lichen, wet stones

Dies Irae - Possets  

black musk, fog, bitter galbanum, hawthorn, rotting leaves, orris, smoky oude, frankincense, black amber

Feuillemort - Alkemia  

dying leaves, smoked autumnal spices, dried grasses and fungi, Tibetan incense, cedarwood, rum soaked agarwood, and borneol

Samhain - Haus of Gloi  

freshly turned earth, wet leaves, cold wind

if you made it this far 1) thank you lol and 2) i hope you enjoyed! if you have your own thoughts i would love to hear them!

[cascodeddeangirlie]

No because what if Destiel was canon when Cas met Cain in that graveyard…

I used the actual script so 99% of the dialogue is not original! Also sorry if the formatting is weird, it’s my first time posting and I’m on mobile.

“It's Cas.” Dean put his phone on speaker. He hadn’t heard Cas’s voice for a good while, but as much as he’d like to keep it for himself, they were looking for Cain. He couldn’t afford to be selfish right now. “Hey, where you at?”

“Illinois.” It was good to hear his voice again. Especially after he hadn’t been picking up his calls earlier.

“Hey, Cas, we got a lead. Cain abducted a Texas death row inmate named Tommy Tolliver.” Sam said, sounding like he barely believed what he was saying. It sounded a little ridiculous, but that was normal for them. This seemed normal. Almost like they were working a case again.

But Sam and Dean weren’t with Cas. They couldn’t see him crouching in the woods, holding a white sneaker that had ‘TDJC’ written on the bottom. When Cas spoke again, it’s nothing close to what they wanted to hear. “He's dead.”

“What? How do you know?” Sam asked, staring at the phone. Dean was worried now, his concern clear on his face.

“Call it an educated guess. Cain has been very busy.” Castiel stood, looking around. The woods where he had been were never really woods at all, just woods surrounding a clearing. A clearing full of freshly dug graves.

Dean’s fear was clear through his voice. “Okay, where are you? We'll come to you.”

Cas felt someone watching him through the trees. He looked around, unsure where it was coming from. “I'll call you back.”

Dean sighed, exasperated, and put his phone in his pocket. With Cas leaving as unexpectedly as usual, he must be okay.

Meanwhile, Cas turned around to find Cain staring at him.

“Hello, Castiel.” Cain seemed unfazed, despite being surrounded by death that he caused. Perhaps it’s natural for the father of murder.

“What have you done?” The angel is appalled, angry.

“These bodies? Just cleaning up a mess I made a long time ago.” He still sounded relaxed. Maybe there was a tinge of regret in his voice, but it was too faint to tell.

“Cain, I know what you were. But you'd resisted for so long.” He was desperate and it showed. He wanted Cain to say something to redeem this, to say he would stop, that he could stop.

“What can I say? I got the taste back.” Cain isn’t moved at all by Cas’s attempt at reconciling him. “With Abaddon's army gunning for me, I had to take up arms again, and I liked how it felt.” As he spoke, he walked closer to Castiel.

“Those were demons. These-” Cas looked around once again. The graves were appalling. The deaths were an abomination. It never should have happened.

Cain crouched down and lifted up a teddy bear. It was muddy and torn apart, and Castiel just knew that it was a small child’s favorite toy. A now deceased child.

“Humans.” Cain breathed out, staring at the bear. “Eh, the Mark thirsts for all kinds.” He lowers the bear and looks away from it.

“This is a massacre.” Castiel’s voice was filled with anger. So many dead. Children, fathers, mothers, siblings, entire families destroyed because they happened to be descended from a killer.

“Yes.” Cain looks up at Cas. He sounds almost dreamy. “And soon it'll be a genocide.” He stood, tossing the bear aside. “My children, my whole poisoned issue. A lot of them out there right now... killers, fighters, thieves, some more peaceful than others. But they still carry it... the disease. If the Mark wants blood, I'll give it mine.” He walked closer, stepping between graves. He seemed peaceful, as though he were simply accepting this as something that had to happen, that he needed to do.

“You'll kill them all? You are Adam and Eve's firstborn. Your descendants are legion.” Cas walks closer to Cain.

“At most, I'm culling... 1 in 10.” Cain said this in a way that attempted to justify what he was doing. To say that maybe it was acceptable.

He earned himself a glare from Cas. “Of everyone.”

“I’ve got time.” Cas’s glare hardened. Cain continued like he couldn’t see it. “How's Dean, by the way? I hear he did good, took Abaddon down.”

Cas looked away, losing his glare. Cain’s expression finally dropped a little.

“He's…not well.” Cain said, realizing. He knew. Cain knew that look. It’s the look his Colette wore. It’s the look of someone slowly losing their lover.

Castiel’s gaze flickered back up to Cain. “Even with the First Blade hidden, Dean is losing his fight against the Mark. If we don't find a cure…He’ll start and never stop.” His eyes wander around the graveyard again. Knowing that one day, he could be standing in another graveyard, but next time it will not be created by someone evil, not by an entity that they are stopping, but Dean. His Dean. His charge, his human, his love. The one he risked everything for. The one he rescued from Hell and reconstructed, saw every single part of his being and soul, and fell for. There was no one else like him and there never will be. Castiel already knew that one day he could lose Dean, maybe in a hunting accident, maybe to old age, something mortal, but not like this. Watching him lose himself was worse. Watching everything that made him fall in love fade was worse. Watching the soul that he sewed back together tear itself apart was so, so much worse. This, the mark, is the worst thing that could have ever happened. “He just needs to stop. I need him to stop.”

Cain saw it. He saw that he had created another one of himself, that he was destroying someone else in love the way he had destroyed Colette. Those eyes, full of fear, sadness, anger, are the same ones he saw when he looked at her. He had destroyed her from the inside out, and now he was making Dean do the same to his angel.

But it was too late.

“There is no cure. I'm living proof of that. But don't worry about Dean. I'll get to him. In due time.” Cain couldn’t apologize, not now. He knew this would happen. He had tried to warn Dean of the consequences. The final thing he knew, the most concrete thing to him, was that there was nothing he could say or do at this point to save this angel from his Colette’s fate, his new fate.

Castiel’s moment of vulnerability with this murderer passed. His angel blade dropped from his sleeve into his hand.

“Sorry Castiel.” Cain’s gaze softened, if only for a second. He had so much more in that apology than Castiel might have realized. “I’m sorry that you have to lose him like this. I’m sorry that I’m going to kill him. I’m sorry that the Mark is taking him apart. I’m sorry…I’m sorry, Colette.”

“You’re not on my list.” Cain said, then disappeared. Castiel was alone. And as he looked around the graveyard, he knew. He knew this could be his future, that Dean could end up leaving him the same way Cain just did, cold and uncaring and only focused on killing.

And he knew he would never be able to stop him.

Thanks for reading :3 apologies if it was ooc at all

[backslashhhh]

My One and Only

David ‘Hesh’ Walker x Reader

Genre: Fluff

WC: 1241

Authors notes: this is my first fic ever so don’t judge me too hard lmao, not proof read cause who has time for that. Also I apologize if the formatting is weird as I am on mobile. Definitely let me know if there are any mistakes and I’ll try to fix them

————————————————————

“How much longer?” You groaned. You had been walking for what seemed to be hours at this point.

Hesh said nothing but let out a chuckle, watching as Riley excitedly darted up ahead, only to fall back and loop around both his legs.

It was your second year anniversary, two whole years of dating this amazing man. You didn’t think that a measly two years was worth celebrating, but Hesh insisted on you both taking the time off work. He definitely deserved some time off, one thing you had always admired about him was how much of a hard worker he was. The man was practically married to his work. Made you a little jealous sometimes.

He finally spoke, “Just up past this hill,” he vaguely pointed to something that was very much a mountain, not a hill.

You groaned loudly. Hesh had always been more of an outdoorsy person, always taking Riley to the beach or on long hikes. You? Not so much. You had been burned one to many times in the great outdoors, be it bugs, sunburn, or even that one time you fell down a small cliff.

But you agreed to come on a camping trip with him. You were never able to resist the puppy eyes he gave you when he wanted something. So once you begrudgingly agreed he all but forced everyone to start packing. Riley made himself useful by padding around with his favourite toy in his mouth.

Hesh outstretched his hand “-kay?” You came to and realized you had been staring at Hesh with that dopey smile he always makes fun of you for while he was saying something. You smirk at him and nod, pretending you had heard what he just said.

He raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t hear me did you?”

“Nope.”

He huffed and pecked you on the cheek, “I’m just that handsome, huh” he pulled back with a shit eating grin.

You playfully swatted him and pushed forward, aiming to get to the campsite while there was still light.

—————————————————

It was hard to tell what time it was by the time you made it to the campsite, as dark heavy clouds began to roll in with the promise of a very wet start to the trip.

You and Hesh scrambled to set up the tent as quickly as possible, adding extra tarps under and on top. Riley, (ever the smart one of you three) laid himself down under some thick brush as little droplets began to fall.

You both had just finished up when the sky opened and layers of rain pelted down. You both scrambled inside and quickly called Riley before the wet dog smell became too bad.

A moment of quiet had settled between you and Hesh. Too quiet, for Hesh at least. You glance over at him and see him staring at you with a guilty smile.

When you raise a questioning eyebrow at him he finally speaks, “I’m sorry,” he glances down, playing with a stray stick that had made its way into the tent.

“For what?” You chuckle, reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers.

“The rain? I’m sorry this was supposed to be perfect” He clarifies looking at you with such guilt you’d think he was apologizing for stabbing you instead of the weather.

You beam at him, saying nothing but scooting closer to him. You pull a spare blanket from your hiking backpack and pull it snugly over the two of you.

“You really think the rain can ruin this? David anywhere with you is perfect, never mind the weather.” You peck him on the cheek.

“I know, I know. It’s just…” he trails off with unfocused eyes. “I don’t know, forget I said anything.”

At this you frown, why was he acting so weird all of a sudden. It wasn’t like him to get caught up on something as simple as the weather.

“It’s just what? You’re scaring me.” You giggle nervously. “Whatever it is, just say it.”

Hesh looks you up and down before taking a deep breath.

He starts “____, I’ve loved you for a while. I liked you for years before I even attempted to ask you out, and the fact that you said yes to dating a guy like me blows my mind to this day.” He pauses to run a hand through his hair. “As much as you and I both like to dance around the topic, my job is scary, the world is scary, there’s never a guarantee that I’ll come home to you.”

You say nothing, staring at him. It was true that his job held no guarantee of survival, but you had met the ghosts, and you trusted them to keep him as safe as possible. You trusted him. You wordlessly nod, urging him along.

“But I can guarantee that you are the single best thing to have ever happened to me. I know that we’ve only been dating for two years, but for me it seemed like an eternity. Two whole years you’ve put up with me being away for work, not knowing whether or not I’m coming home in a body bag. And I just- you always- I love you ____. I love you so much that it physically fucking hurts.” He stares into your eyes, somehow conveying what he’s struggling to say perfectly. “I wanted this moment to be beautiful and sunny, I even had a fucking speech planned but fuck it.”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small ring. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears.

“_____, I can’t just sit around and pretend like the time we spend together isn’t precious. If my time with you is limited, and god knows if it is, I want to be married to you for as long as I can be. ____, will you make me the happiest man ever and marry me?”

.

There’s a beat of silence as thunder rumbles in the background. At some point you had started crying. Even Riley was watching with canine interest.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding. “David Walker, is that even a question? Of course I’ll marry you. Yes, YES!” You cry out and rush to hug him while placing sloppy kisses all over his face. Hesh joined you in crying while stumbling to put the ring on your finger.

You immediately cuddled into him whilst holding out the hand with the ring on it. You studied the ring, feeling as though you had seen it before. Hesh nestled into the crook of your neck breathing contentedly before whispering out “It was my mothers ring.”

It finally clicked where you had seen it before. Hesh had shown you a photo of his mother a while back. It was a beautiful photo from her and Elias’s wedding. Hesh always joked that he was a carbon copy of his father, but you could always see some of his mother’s features shine through.

You cuddled impossibly closer into his side, now wrapping both arms around him. Riley, apparently getting jealous, crawled through the tent and rested his head in both your laps.

The sound of rain bounced around in your ears. The world was a cold and cruel place. But for now, if not just for just a moment, it felt as though nothing could hurt you, Hesh, or even Riley. Everything was perfect.

~

[avtvmnalvibes]

Fallin’ For Ya

A/N: Hi y’all!! This is my first fic I’m posting to tumblr. I have my AO3 account in my bio, and you can find all my previous fics + this one posted there. Shoutout to @dopp-likes-yanderes because one of the asks on their blog inspired this fic this past May, and it’s been sitting half finished in my google docs account from now until today. Thank you for giving me your blessing to post this!! Also note that I’m on mobile so if anything is formatted really weird that’s the culprit. Happy Valentine’s Day everybody!!

CW: female!reader, biblical references, Philip being a Puritan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Philip Wittebane was seething.

His day had started out as it normally did these days. Go to the market, limp about, look pathetic in hopes of finding some abominable creature to trick into being his sacrifice. It had taken a turn for the worse however when the brother’s of that disappointment Blue Fang had shown up and demanded both payment and information, taking his journal and taunting him. He kept up the act, inwardly calculating whether they could be reasoned with or tricked, or whether or not he could kill them without repercussions, when he had been saved by a foolhardy young witch who was oddly eager to accompany him. Her knowledge of the Collector made her easier prey then he ever could have hoped for, and he had decided that things were finally coming up Wittebane, when suddenly.

“…and this is my Aunt uh….Dirtrude and uh-“

“(Y/N) will do just fine, Luzura.”

He felt something creep up his spine, both pleasant and unpleasant, turned his gaze slightly to the side, and felt his mouth fall open.

Caleb was laughing from beyond the grave, he knew it. In fact, if he didn’t know any better, he would say that Caleb had orchestrated this, some supernatural, eternal, annoying older brother ability to push him to his limits. Because there, in front of him, stood the most gorgeous creature he had ever seen in his life. Pure temptation, the likes of which he had only heard in sermons and in his brother’s voice when he talked about her.

Hence the seething.

He listened to ‘Luzura’ chatter on about something about crabs, or toe-gres, or something else of little consequence compared to the emotions he was trying to keep at bay. He was NOT like Caleb. Caleb had been weak, he had succumbed to temptation, fornication, and witchcraft. Philip was a good, God-fearing man, who would take a HUMAN wife, thank-you-very-much and be fruitful with HER.

His internal rant was broken up by a shriek, and he came to as someone crashed into his back. Hands clutched onto his chest and back, perfume filling the air, and he pushed down the sharp, breath-catching arousal that came with the feeling. He turned around sharply, gripping her waist with aggression, hard enough to bruise, and was stopped short before he could react in any way shape or form.

Her kerchief, the one that had been tied round her head, had slipped in her fall, and had revealed her ears.

Her round ears.

He finally allowed the attraction that he had been fighting back to flood his body, and he felt his blood coursing through his veins, warming him and turning his brain foggy as he stared at the woman, the human woman in front of him. The very sensations he had been attempting to drown out just seconds ago were allowed back. The feel of her body, warm beneath his, the scent of her. He had never been so aroused in his entire life, and all he could do was internally crow to his brother, to beyond the grave.

“See? I can only be tempted by a human woman! You who so quickly gave into a mistress of Satan, a follower of the Devil, but not me!”

His focus was returned by the sound of her voice, her face so close to his that he could feel her breath across his face and neck.

“Oh, Mr. Wittebane, are you alright? I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to grab you like that, I-“

“Don’t trouble yourself for one second Miss (Y/N), I assure you, I am not in the least bit angry.”

She seemed taken aback at this, and tilted her head to the side.

“….You’re not?”

He grinned, giddier than he ever had as a boy, and wound his arms tighter around her waist, pulling her close to him and delighting in the way her face flushed and breath quickened.

“On the contrary! My dear Miss (Y/N), I have but one question; why didn’t you tell me that you too were human?”

She paled, one hand darting up to cover her ear, and he found that he quite preferred her flustered to frightened.

“I’m terribly sorry for deceiving you Mr. Wittebane but, well…you know better than anyone how hard it can be for a human on the Boiling Isles. Besides, we didn’t know whether you would take kindly to another human…so we elected that it was best to hide it.”

We…we? Oh! Right. He’d been so enraptured that he’d forgotten that they had company. He looked over to their other traveling companions and found that they had reassured themselves of her well-being when he had caught her and had begun to amble ahead, moving slowly so as not to leave them behind.

“I understand Miss (Y/N). You’re quite right of course; I know the trials a human on the Boiling Isles faces all too well. I must confess to being a tad offended that you could think me hostile towards other humans, however the logical side of me understands your caution and finds it prudent.”

She turned her face up to him, her chin resting on his chest as she faced him fully, and he felt something within his chest clench. Dear God…

“Your forgiveness is deeply appreciated Mr. Wittebane.”

“Philip. Please.”

He spoke before he could stop himself, words spilling over his lips, which he clamped shut before any more of the contents of his heart and mind could be revealed.

He saw a flush rise up her cheeks, and felt one of his own creep up to match, heart pounding desperately in his chest she had to have felt it given her proximity.

“Alright Mr.- Philip. Then you must call me (Y/N). No ‘Miss’ in front of it. Just (Y/N).”

He grabbed her hand and raised it to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles and lingering, savoring the moment as if it was the last meal he would ever receive.

“(Y/N)….it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

She exhaled shakily, eyes wide and lips parted, and Philip Wittebane swore he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. Like Adam before Eve, he had never felt such an assured sense of belonging to someone in his whole life.

“Hey, are you guys alright back there? You’ve been standing still for like, 10 minutes.”

He turned his head to look behind him, and saw Luzura staring at them with an expression of concern on her face, Dirtrude next to her still scribbling away in her little notebook and muttering something about ‘Deadwardian Balustrades’.

“We’re just fine Luz,”

(Y/N) called out, and he took a great deal of satisfaction in the breathiness of her voice.

That satisfaction was quickly replaced by disappointment and annoyance as she left his hold and his arms, though he was reassured slightly by her catching his arm as she walked past, holding onto the sleeve of his coat as they walked side by side.

“So…Philip. How much longer until we get to where we’re headed?”

Luzura’s voice piped up. For a moment Philip prepared to create the transportation circle of glyphs, body several steps ahead of him, when suddenly, he did what he was best at; he thought. And in this brief moment of thought, his mind stalling his body before he could move to scratch a single glyph into the dirt beneath his feet, he came up with a plan. It was a little rushed admittedly, and less a full fledged plan as much as it was a little subterfuge that he would use to shape the rest of the events that followed into the result he desired, but still. When the result would be marrying the woman he was increasingly sure was the yoke mate that William Whately had described in his sermon The Bride Bush, how could he resist enacting it?

“Oh dear! The time we spent lingering back there has cost us. I’m afraid we won’t make it before nightfall.”

Everyone’s faces morphed into varying degrees of horror and dismay.

“But it’s not safe to travel during the night! And we’re too far from Bonesborrough to head back now!”

Dirtrude’s voice was shrill with panic, eyes darting around as if she could see imaginary creatures swooping in and carrying them off as they attempted to travel safely. Perfect.

“Thankfully, I’ve explored these stretches of woods many times before. I know a safe place to spend the night nearby. I often find I’d rather risk the cruelty of nature as opposed to that of the townspeople.”

The whole party looked at him in pity, and he felt a thrill as (Y/N) laid her other hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention to her as she gazed up at him.

“How far away is this place?”

“Not far. A little ways behind us, but not enough that we shan’t reach it before the sun sets, and not so out of the way that it will inconvenience us when we get our start tomorrow.”

(Y/N) looked around at her companions, conferring silently with them until she nodded and turned her attention back to him.

“Lead the way then Philip.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Philip wrote in his journal, his work illuminated by the fire they had set for warmth. His description of (Y/N) was coming along nicely, her temperament and mannerisms unfolding easily beneath his pen.

He looked over to his side, and saw her face illuminated by the fire, resting and peaceful.

“Soon neither of us shall have to worry about any danger the Boiling Isles have to offer.”

He muttered, as he began a few detailed sketches of her. Her as she lay beside him now, her blushing as she looked up at him, her face broken out into a smile.

“Bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.”

Never before had the meaning of the Word of God seemed so clear to him. William Whately’s words rang through his head once again, his teachings on the virtues necessary for marriage striking a chord beyond the academic and theological interest he had once observed the sermon with.

“We’ll find our way home (Y/N), don’t fret. Once I’ve rid this world of evil, I’ll be able to take you home to Gravesfield and marry you.”

He blew gently on the ink to dry it, observing her likeness fondly as he turned to gaze upon the real thing. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“Sweet dreams my love.”