#and idk who to ask about figuring out pain that makes me wonder if

[carbonfiction]

Could you do some angst Logan x mutant!reader comfort. Like maybe she has a similar origin to Logan where she was tested on for her powers and escaped. She ends up at the mansion and that’s how her and Logan end up together.

I’ve been wanting to write this myself for a while but haven’t had time. I need to see some truama bonding and comfort for that man with someone who really understands what it’s like. I would give anything to be that person. 😭

Hi anon!! Im so sorry this has taken me so long to get to- despite some little changes on the request, and my unsureness on writing angst, i hope you enjoy this drabble!

One step at a time

Summary: sleep can be a fickle thing, a struggle more personal than most.. But it just so happens theres another person in the mansion that understands. Written with X1 logan in mind!

Warnings?: angst, mentions of nightmares and troubled sleep, self doubt, slight depression? Comfort and fluff at the end? Idk how to tag this really.. Words: 1.5k Masterlist

People were scared of things they didn’t understand, of people that didn’t fit in to a societal box. And being a mutant? Well, you became the scariest thing of all. An unknown, a secret unshared in a room full of people.

To some, that fear, that little nagging doubt about what you are, what you could do.. fuelled somthing else entirely. Not fear, not quite, more an evil kind of curiosity. A fixation to poke and prod, bend and snap, push the limits of their fear regardless of yours in the name of science. Regardless that you too, we’re a person, different now yes, but still born of the same matter once.

Careless to the person you were, only the thing you could become. And even then, if you weren’t useful.. you were useless. Another mistake in a pile of scraped idea's, a caged creature begging for a way out.

You never wanted it, never asked to sit in a room and wonder why. Why you, why this. There was never a good enough answer, never a reason, not really. Some People were just cruel, vile and nasty, out for their own gain.. to test the limits of humanity.

But then it begged the question, what was humanity? Because it wasn’t this. It wasn’t the sleepless nights afraid to close your eyes. The sanctity of sleep a luxury. Peace a rationed thing.

Therefore It had become normal to find you in the dead of night, curled up the couch in front of the fireplace; whilst everyone else slumbered. Sometimes a book in hand, other times just your thoughts. Embered flames burning bright and warm, the crackle of wood often the only sound. It was how your relationship with Logan had bloomed.

From wordless nods walking down corridors to conversations and nights shared infront of the fire; he had become pleasant company, a friend you regarded higher- one who understood better- than most. He'd seen the same horrors behind his eyes, the years a tiresome thing.

So it's here you sit, like always, in your spot on the couch peering between pages of a book and the old grandfather clock, waiting for Logan.

It was late and he'd usually show up around now, your meetings held in a trusted pact- an agreement that if sleep held pain, this is where you'd find one another. It was up to choice then, if you'd relocate to one of your room's; if you felt the embrace of the others arms would quiet the horror, just for a while.

Because while it's true that you both may no longer be broken here in the mansion.. you'd always be bruised bone deep.

"Hey" Logan murmers softly, breaking you from your thoughts as you crane your neck toward him. Hes stood tall in the doorway, clad in sweats and a white vest, two steaming mugs in hand as he pads closer, handing you one over the back of the couch. "Figured you'd want a drink, tried to make it how you like"

You nod, taking a tentative sip with a greatful smile. Your eyes fluttering shut a moment as you swallow, relishing the warmth. Logan had indeed made it the exact way he knew you loved, and it swells your heart; the fondness you feel for the action- for him. "'S perfect, thank you.."

"Was nothin.." he shrugs, sighing into his own cup, back hitting the couch besides you. the cushions are a soft embrace for his aching body, the days seeming longer. He'd confessed one night, that the winter had never helped his affliction. That the cold air made his adamantium bones ache in a way that seemed impossible to describe. The sting of his knuckles that bit sharper with each snikt of his claws.

You shift quietly, book page marked and now placed on the coffee table. Logan watches silently as you reach for the soft blanket that lays dormant on the back. Your fingers adjusting the fabric carefully, unfolding and draping it until it rests over his knees too.

Logan smiles, a look reserved for these nights- for you- in his eyes. Its a soft, greatful, little thing; Unreminicent of his usual gruff demeanor. he lifts a large arm bringing it to rest snug behind your shoulders, tugging you closer.

Theres a comfortable silence that follows then, sat side by side. Logan simply watches as you pick the book back up, resuming your page. A warm feeling in his chest that he hasn't felt for a while as your eyes flit across the words.

He still cant understand how anyone could- would- hurt you. Would even dare harm a delicate hair on your head. It boils a possessive type of anger inside of him, that people, the very same that had hurt him, had dared. That they had ruined your trust, made you into something of their design, just like him.

And Its then that Logan cant help how his mouth moves, how it burts the words before he can even think to stop them, make them sound less jumbled. "You uh.. didn't deserve it you know?.. What they did"

The words feel foreign on his tongue but they hold meaning- one that you can feel as you cast your gaze to him.

Theres a look in your eyes he cant quite read as you hum honestly. "Neither did you. you know that right?"

And Logan knows. Hell its deep down but he knows. Yet hearing the words still bring an ache to his chest. Its beyond hard for him to even think about- admit really- even after all this time. He hadn't deserved it and neither had you. But that was certain weather perceived or not.

"Im.. Tired, logan" you trail quietly, casting your book aside as your head falls to rest on his shoulder. "Just.. So tired of being tired."

A shattering feeling stabs at Logan's chest from your admission, a sigh falling against your hair. "I know you are. Hell so am i but.." he pauses, trying to find the correct sentiment.

"We- you- can do this"

You can't help the exhaled sound that slips from you, not a laugh, not not a breath either. "Logan-" you try to protest, try to shift back inside your non vulnerable shell ready to shut down, but he has you locked next to him, fingers coming to rest on your jaw.

"No, look at me, Cmon" he murmurs, cupping and turning your cheek gently until your gaze meet his. "like you told me that once. Its one step at a time alright?"

You recall saying it, remember the context, and yet the idea of saying it to yourself feels foreign- as foreign as the words blurted from logans tongue.

He'd had a nightmare that night, had woken with a hoarse scream and his claws embedded in the plush mattress; pillows ruined with feathers everywhere, soaked in sweat. You'd come barreling in from downstairs having heard his sounds of distress, knowing the situation.

But.. You hadn't laughed, despite him being so surrounded by pillow feathers that he's sure he looked like big bird. You hadn't been cruel or judgemental, pitty in your eyes. You'd just been.. Well, you. Kind and understanding, reassuring him that it was okay, that he was safe. To take a shower and you'd sort the rest. It was from then that the fondness he felt for you had bloomed to something a little more inside of him.

You nod gently, a small, barely there smile on your lips now as you repeat. The light of the fire a soft glow in your eyes, tone a fraction more hopeful. "One step at a time"

"Yeah, thats it sweetheart" he smiles gently, a proud look in his own eye's, before his throat clears. A bashful look taking over his features as he continues, thumb absentmindedly stroking over your cheekbone. A distraction to the honesty he was going to drop "Besides.. you got this knucklehead who'd really like to keep this.. Us.. up"

You swallow, breath stuttering as your cheeks heat."You.. You would?" you sound a little surprised, yet a little hopeful, and It makes Logan smile, hearing your heart pounding in your chest.

"Yeah sweetheart" he breathes, voice a low gravel as he anxiously nods, before rushing to add. "if- if thats something you'd want?"

"Yes!" you exclaim, so excitedly it makes logan chuckle, the deep rumble joining the crackling fire. "I, uh, i mean.. ofcourse i do Logan"

Logans fingers tilt your face higher, his forehead coming to rest on yours as your fingers trace over his scruff coated jaw. "Things are better with you.." you murmer, breath puffing over his lips. "Lighter. You get it, get me.. This.."

He hardly lets you finish before his lips are pressed to yours, breaking the miniscule gap between them. His kiss so uncharacteristically gentle, like he was afraid one taste and you'd break.

"Things are better with you too.." he says quietly, forehead on yours, a smile against your mouth as his nose rubs your cheek.

And so Its that night you both agree, while wrapped up in one another, that things are better together. Better with each others shoulder to lean on. And despite the darkness that would still linger sometimes, that's all that mattered. You and him. Him and you.

[siffrins-therapist]

Hhhhhhnnnnnnggghhhhh

[domreader-headcannon-scenarios]

Based on all the whb kings dick size Levi is the smallest (he's 18cm which is still pretty big compared to human men but still smaller than the other kings)

so I was wondering if you could do a fic where MC teases him about it, like compares him to the other kings (you know really get his jealousy going) but he kinda likes it but acts like he doesn't and proves to MC that size doesn't matter *wink wink 😉 *

WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE how MUCH I LOVE THIS!!! Why is my new think cucking and teasing/torturing Leviathan??! (I mean he was the first card I got?)

Ok so like there’s a really funny quote that came to mind that I need to use for this but wanna share first!

So there’s SO MUCH POTENTIAL HERE!! Like he 100% doesn’t know he’s big to humans, so it’s a jab at his pride with every remark on his size bc the other kings 100% made fun of him of his ‘tiny’ cock.

(So for those who live where I do, 18cms is 7.087 inches…he’s 7 inches but 100% would make you state the exact size saying 7 inches is a ‘underestimation’)

And bc he’s so self conscious? When you were staring surprised at his size, he took it as he was ‘too small’ for you. He’d throw a fit…

(Idk when I toook this image but he’s so cute to me???)

-

Cw: slight cucking, lots of teasing, technically polycule, SDH

You couldn’t help it, Levithan was so easy to get worked up, he threw a tantrum when he realized you didn’t lose your virginity with him (despite him KNOWING you’ve needed devil energy…), and after being with Satan AND Mammon, he knows he can’t compare!

But here you were, chatting with him like you were gossiping with Paimon, while Levithan is sat in front of you, naked from the waste down, he was trying to tone out insulting remarks about his size.

“Seriously, what am I supposed to with this? After getting some prime meat from Mammon how am I supposed to use this? At least Satan is big enough to get half way in…” You say laughing a bit. It was so stupid, but Leviathan was fuming.

“Q-quit yapping, Decedent of Solomon! I’m plenty big-“ He squeals as you roughly grab his cock, squeezing it with your fingers wrapped around it, you keep squeezing until your finger touched. It was a stretch but Levithan look mortified.

“Pfft! The tiny human can wrap one hand around your cock!” You force out a laugh, but you know he can’t tell the difference. He doesn’t know your fingers are barely touching…

“No!N-no! I-it’s because I-I’m not fully aroused!” He blurts out. You can almost feel him scrambling to figure out what to say. He clears his throat as if that’s why he was stuttering. “I’m not at full mass, that’s why. It gets bigger…”

You can hear him trail off as if realizing he can’t just lie that it’ll get bigger…when he’s already dripping pre, it’s throbbing in your painful grip. You stifle your laugh.

“I’m sure it does…do you know how big Lucifer is? You looks like you got a clit in comparison!” You chuckle, you flash a toothy grin as he hisses in frustration. His cock tip is an angry red, almost matching his face! “So Levi let me ask…” You flash him toothy grin that makes him know your gonna say something…that will definitely wound his pride.

“How does it feel to know that out of all your friends, you have the smallest dick?”

Levithan’s eyes widen, he looks like you just slapped him, he even audible gasp! You almost worry you went to far but he whimper/shouts out. “T-then it’s a good thing I don’t have any friends!” He says as if that’s a better solution, he’s so worked up he’s shaking, his cock bouncing aggressively in your hand.

You laugh at that, you couldn’t hold it back, you could see shock on his face at your response, he blushes a deep red and whimpers. Finally release his cock, he loudly gasp at the sudden release of pressure, he’s so close….

“I-it doesn’t need to be big! I can show you…” Leviathan complains and quickly helps you remove your pants, using your undergarments as the only protection as he grinds against you. He keeps grinding against you, his ‘tiny’ cock rubbing against you like a personal massager.

You moaned teasingly, it felt great. “Ooh! You know how to rub it against things, that’s great, here, let me show how to use that thing…”

You pushed him down and grind against his cock, grinding down on it, it gave you little pleasure while he was clearly sensitive…

You can’t not keep teasing him! He’s clearly enjoying it with the way he’s leaking pre…

“I wonder if your subordinates are bigger than you…do you have the smallest dick in hell? You’re taker than Satan, shouldn’t your dick be bigger? Or at least less sensitive?” You tease, moving your underwear enough for his dick to tease your entrance. He loudly whines at the sight of your naked skin…

“It’s not sensitive. Humans just…don’t understand…” Leviathan trails off before looking away. “Humans are fickle things…demons enjoy the sentiment more than feeling…”

You can hear his constant pauses in his speech, he’s trying to come up with an excuse without admitting he’s…sensitive. You reach down and tease his cock head, earning a moan. “Shouldn’t humans be more sensitive then? But here we are, a demon trembling while a human grinds on his dick…what are you going to do if I tell you it’s too tiny for me to use?”

Leviathan looks like you just kicked him, he glares at you. He angles his hips, then the next slide back you feel his cock slip into you, granted your ready for it, but once sheathed into you, he seems to realize the situation. He can’t move under you, now you were just sitting in his dick…squeezing it…and he can’t do anything!

Leviathan growls. “Do something already! It’s plenty big enough for a tiny human like you! I-I can easily please any demon, now let me move…” He starts to groan and loudly complains. Out of mercy you lift your hips only enough to let him thrust into you.

As much as Leviathan wants to go fast, the angle isn’t exactly easy for him to thrust into you, he tries to voice something to you but it dies in his throat and he stops thrusting into you. He whimpers, a deep blush across his face.

“What’s wrong? Can’t even last as long as the other Kings?”

Leviathan hisses in complaint and lowers his gaze. “I don’t…know.Its…”

He whimpers and begins squirming under you, you feel him throbbing inside you…

He can take some more teasing.

-

[dinoace2]

I had a cute little story idea so you all must deal with my sappy ass

This one's just some sweet short astarion comfort fluff bc I need more of that in my life

(AFaB Tav, referred to as She/Her, mention of periods. 575 words)

~~~~~

They were more or less together at this point, mutual pining and spending all their time with one another, though neither said it aloud. Tav let him feed on her neck whenever he needed, though he would only do so if she offered first. This was rarely an issue, however, since she had a tendency to make this offer on a daily basis.

Lately, though, she hadn't. For the last several days, whenever the party retreated to their camp for some much-needed rest, Tav would immediately go straight to her tent and lay down.

Astarion paced outside of her tent, wondering whether or not to ask about it. Was she upset with him? Did he do something wrong? Was she finally fed up with him? No, no, that couldn't be it. Right?

After fighting with himself for a while, he slowly poked his head in, seeing Tav curled up around a pillow, her back to him. "Hello, darling...I just wanted to check in on you. Is everything alright?"

She paused, a low grumble in her throat. "...yeah. just been...I dunno...a bit extra tired. I'm okay."

That didn't sound okay. Tav was usually so strong, so energetic...this definitely wasn't normal.

He cleared his throat. "...does this, perhaps...have anything to do with my, ah...lack of feeding these last few days?" He paused, then shook his head quickly. "I-i would like to be clear, I'm not asking for it at the moment! I was simply...inquiring. Trying to gain an understanding, that's all." He chuckled. "Youre the one who always insists upon honesty and 'no more secrets', after all."

Tav paused then let out a long sigh, sitting up and giving the poor, strangled pillow a break. "...Sorry. I....its really rather silly...perhaps almost selfish..." she turned around, looking up at him from where she sat. "As much as I'd love to share right now, I've been losing enough blood as it is...im not sure it'd end well if I were to give up more."

Losing blood? His face paled, somehow more than usual. Was she injured? She didn't look hurt. He ransacked his memory to try and figure out when or where she could have taken such a hit, all the while looking her up and down for any physical signs of pain.

"I...oh dear...uh...if I may ask, what happened, darling? When did you get hurt? Did you fall? Did someone stab you? Who do I need to hunt down?"

Tav was quiet for a moment then let out a soft chuckle. "Im fine, Astarion...really, it's okay."

She...wasn't hurt? Then why was she...

...Oh.

Oh.

His cheeks flushed as bright as his eyes and he was quick to her side, pulling her into his arms. "Darling, why didn't you say so? I absolutely would have understood. You didn't have to hide that from me." He chuckled. "If anyone here knew a thing or two about blood, it would be me, don't you think?"

His comment drew a giggle from the tired warrior in his arms, and she snuggled up. "Thank you, Astarion."

The following days, the rest of the party noticed that Astarion was especially doting on Tav, (or at least more than usual,) being extra snuggly and, in some particular occasions, downright spoiling her. Despite her insistence that it wasn't a big deal, and he really didn't have to go so far, he was incredibly stubborn to ensure that his darling was as comfortable and happy as possible.

~~~~

Idk how to end it so

Thanks for reading! :]

[kpopbestie96]

Crushing on my best friend Bang Chan

Hello lovelies! Bang Chan posted today on Insta!! Which means I get to write a fun little story for you based off the pictures. There might be a part two? Idk yet...might just leave it on a cliffhanger. Hope you all enjoy! 🤗🥰

Paring: Bang Chan x reader, Bang Chan x Y/n

Genre: Stray Kids fan fiction, Bang Chan fan fiction

Warnings: cussing, 17+

"Thanks for meeting me today," he hugged you tightly as soon as you arrived. You've known him for years but you'll never get tired of his hugs. They feel as if they are a comfort blanket, never waiting to leave his arms.

"Of course! I tried rushing over as quick as I could as soon as I got your text." You mentioned when sitting down next to him on the bench.

He didn't say anything more, never seeing him this quiet. You worriedly turned your head to see his hung low while you tried figuring out what was wrong. On the way over you tried to decipher his text. All his message said was come to the bench you and him always meet at, where you both discuss problems.

"Everything okay?" You eyed him suspiciously.

You could see him tighten his grip on the bench, seeing the veins popping up. "I think she's cheating on me..." he said in almost a whisper but loud enough to hear.

Taken a bit back, you could feel a tiny bit of your heart crack for him. You've never like his girlfriend but didn't think she would ever cheat. "Your girlfriend? No way...there's no way anyone could cheat on you."

You could see the side of his lips smirk before turning serious again as he looked at you with heavy eyes. "That's nice of you to say but I saw the message..."

Your breath was hitched in your throat when he said that. "What do you mean?" Your right eyebrow raised out of curiosity.

He let out a deep sigh before explaining but he didn't even look at you, he just looked straight out to the world. "We were hanging out one night and her phone began to ring...when she quickly reached over and put it on silent. I asked who it was but she said it was spam. So I thought nothing of it," you couldn't help but catch a glimpse him biting his lower lip out of been anxious.

"When she went to the bathroom, her phone went off again. I asked her about it but she said it was nothing, turning her phone over on my night stand. Which she's never done before. Am I being paranoid?"

You hated how much she was making him hurt by this. She could have easily shown him who was calling but I don't want to hurt his heart more...I don't care how big of a crush I have on him. His happiness comes first. "Hmm, has she been doing anything else out of the ordinary?"

He nodded his head yes before turning his gaze onto you, making you sit up in your spot. Your body tensed, like you were the one in trouble. "Lately, she's been avoiding kissing me, having sex...she's even canceled a few of our dates."

"Chan, I don't think you're paranoid but maybe talk to her about this...about how you feel."

"But what do I say?" You searched his face, wondering what does he say to her. You wanted to be selfish and say she is cheating but your heart was too pure for that.

"Just mention your feelings, like you're doing with me. If she gets mad and turns it on you, that's all you need to know. If she brings out her phone and shows you, there is nothing to worry about."

His lips pierced tightly together as he listened to your helpful words. He was afraid to say anything to her, knowing how she gets but he was tired of feeling like he doesn't matter to her anymore. He saw the hearts in your eyes, looking up at him. "Thanks Y/n, I'll try my best to talk to her tonight."

"You can do it, I know you can," the words tasted sour, feeling a stinging pain in your heart. "Plus, she would be crazy to cheat on you. You're so amazing, the sweetest person I've ever met!" You smiled as he shared one in return, his dimples on display.

"Please, I'm okay at best," he stuck his tongue out slightly to the side as nudged you. "But oh, how did your date go last night, you never told me."

You rubbed the top of your left eye lid gently, trying not to smear any of your makeup while you thought back to the date you were dreading all day yesterday. "It went alright..."

"I'm assuming by that tone, you've never going to talk to him again?"

You couldn't help but chuckle as you played with the gold dainty daisy ring that sat on your right middle finger. "You know me too well."

"Of course I do, we've been friends since we were 10. But don't worry, we'll find you a great guy." He patted your back, making you fake smile as you looked up at him, wanting to just confess your feelings. I want to be with you, you thought to yourself. Your heart yelling at you to say it out loud.

Your eyes sat on his, while you gripped the hard bench yelling at yourself to just admit it already. "What's wrong?" He asked, seeing his facial expression changed from happy to worried.

Small air escaped your lips, shifting uncomfortably in your seat from his gaze locked on to you. Just say it. "I..." You began as he titled his head to the side, pulling his hand off your back to sit it right next to yours, making them touch.

You could feel your face become warm and a spark shoot through your body. "It's nothing." You shook out of his trance, looking down at your shoes that were touching together by how nervous you were.

"Hey, you can tell me anything. You know I don't judge." He placed his left hand on top of your right, making you look down with your eyes wide enough for them to fall out.

Titling your head up, trying to relax the body you said, "It's just..." A deep breath escaped making Chan know there is something your holding back. He can see it in your eyes that you have so much to tell him.

A tiny bit is hoping you confess how you feel about him. He's always pictured a moment like this. The crush he has on you would make him daydream about sitting on this exact bench, while you confess how much you like him.

"I...I think I'll never find anyone." You moved your head away from him, sighing in defeat.

His heart melted a bit but should have known not to get his hopes up, to think you would find him more than just a friend. "That's not true, look at me," he placed his hand on your shoulder, turning slowly to him where you didn't realize how close he got until your faces were inches apart. You thought he would move away but he didn't. "You're beautiful, funny, loves talking soccer, sweet, caring, any guy would be lucky to be with you."

His dimples showing again as he smiled while you accidently moved your eyes down to his lips then quickly back up to his sight. Your heart was turning, making you realize he will only ever be a friend. "Thanks."

You and him eventually got up and walked around the area, just talking and going over the plans for him tonight. You were laughing about something he said when his flannel slid down his arm a bit, revealing his toned shoulder. Showing off his arm that made you try you best to focus on him but you were losing the ability to.

You both kept walking around the place until it was time to go. Like the gentleman he is, walked you to your car. "Well, thanks for your help. I'll let you know how it goes tonight." He hugged you tightly as he didn't want to let go.

"I hope it goes well," A fake smile appeared on your face as you pulled away before getting into your car.

You waved goodbye as you drove off, immediately yelling at yourself for not say anything. "I'm so stupid, I should have just said it...fuck me. What is my problem??"

The second you walked into your apartment, you threw yourself on to the couch looking at your reflection in the TV. Disgusted by what you saw, you turned it on to find your favorite show to help cheer you up.

After changing, making dinner, you just hung around your house waiting for Chan to message. When watching TV, every five minutes you would pick up your phone to see if he sent anything but nothing. A couple times your phone would ding but it was just your other friends messaging you, disappointing you every time.

The later it got, you decided to go washes dishes before you went to bed. He's never going to text...they'll probably making up right now. You body shivered from that thought, rolling your eyes when you heard your phone go off. Setting down the dish, drying your hands, you rushed over to pick up your phone. Please let it be him, you hoped as it turned on to see it was in fact him.

You sat down on the couch, ready to face whatever he might say.

Great... you thought as you through yourself back on the couch, turning around to lie flat on it while pinching the bridge of your nose. Well there goes that...Actually, I'm going to do it. Fuck it...what's the worse that can happen?

Your thumbs quickly began to dance on the phone screen, trying to hurry up before you second guess yourself.

You only read back the message once, to make sure there were no errors before you hit the send button. "Holy shit! I can't believe I did that!" You yelled out loud, getting up and walking all over your apartment, yelling 'holy fuck' every two seconds.

"Okay, that looks crooked, let's fix that!" You began to fix your pictures on the wall at midnight because there was no way you were going to sit still.

For part two: click here

[littlelillycatsworld]

weight loss breakdown (for once not a mental one impressive ik)

as promised heres my weight loss breakdown. I have awful brain fog words aren't working properly (using any and all brain power on English rn) and it's a bit all over the place please be patient with me I have most definitely forgotten some stuff I'll update when I remember

this is not healthy this is what works for me I know the limits of my body you are your own person please look after yourself and don't compare yourself to me. I'm a professional ballerina and ex-taekwondow artist

please be polite don't leave unsolicited advice if I need or want it I'll ask and right now I DONT.

I'm not suggesting that anyone should attempt to fallow this since this is actually insane

DRINKS

I drink lemon honey water or tea for breakfast most days depending on how much calorie dread I have (does that make sense?)

I will only allow myself to drink water, tea or diet coke/zero or ultra monster throughout the day

MEALS

OMAD when possible budget is 900 I rarely ever make it close to my budget

I'll only intentionally eat dinner unless forced otherwise. I must burn off whatever I can from dinner since I don't have classes that late

some days it's completely unavoidable and I have to eat snacks due to outside pressure like friends and family or my manager (he's apparently hell bent on keeping my ass alive)

binges happen we (I) acknowledge them we (me) move

if I feel faint when In class nothing matters I WILL eat I cannot run the risk of hurting myself or my dance partner when it's him who will be the one who makes sure i dont hit the ground

META DAYS

meta days are important please take them!

I must allow myself 2 grace days a week and I try to be gentle with myself. (essentially I'm gentle parenting myself on these days)

I try not to fall into my normal over the top exercise routine since I still haven't figured out how to make these days my bitch

my cal budget is normally around 1400 for these days

EXERCISE

I must do 10k steps at least (normally much closer to 25k)

I start every day off with a mile run sometimes 2 (depending on how much I want to not exist and weather conditions)

i go to the gym at my dorm when weather conditions are bad or it's to cold for me I run on the treadmill it's not as mentally stimulating as outside but I don't like the rain ice or wind too much

i can be expected to be dancing for 8-9hrs on my longest day so for the most part I don't need to worry too much about forcing myself to burn calories but it gives me peace of mind I burn an estimated 4500cal these days (impossible to know for sure since 2 teachers don't allow activity trackers)

around 3000 on my normal days but again 2 teachers are a pain In my ass

I play just dance religiously at this point it takes me 2hrs to burn 500 I do this after dinner or twice a day on the weekends where possible.

I still practice taekwondo and go to a studio to do classes once a week but it's not as extreme as it used to be (no longer training 6 days a week and doing competitions)

WEIGHING

I weigh myself most days

I don't weigh myself during my meta days I don't need the added mental stress

I get weighed by my school once a week but only update my profile if there is a big difference either up or down (accountability and all that)

FASTS

I normally do 24hr since omad

I don't count my medication, gum, diet coke/zero tea or lemon honey water as breaking my fast. if this keeps me mentally stable then idk it doesn't count (politely eat a brick if you try to tell me otherwise)

I always try to get at least one longer fast a week normally after dinner on wednesday to Friday dinner sometimes I can make it to Saturday dinner it just depends on who's around to make me eat

if your wondering how I've survived this far all I can say is I'm a spiteful little bitch who's going to prove a whole list of people wrong

[mahs-dumpster]

Lady and The Tramp

a/n: do not let the title fool you this is just angst lmao

tw: oc x canon (Maisie Bows x Fellow Honest), uhhhh idk does ghosting counts as a tw?

words: around 1k

Tagging @4necdote bc I told you I'd post this

It had been another wonderful night, Maisie once again did another performance at a local bar, showcasing her new song, and if the applause was anything to go by, she did a good job, and the song was well received. 

Still, there was something odd. Maisie could hear steps behind her as she kept walking back home, she was getting more and more worried as time went on and as the streets became less crowded. Maybe she should’ve accepted when her manager offered to walk with her… 

She needed to do something before whoever it was got to her.

“Excuse m—”

It was then she turned around and kicked the person without any hesitation, making the body of the man who was following her fall on the ground. 

“Wait…” Maisie stared at his groaning figure struggling to get up, until she recognized the locks of ginger hair, fox ears and tail, and she became even angrier, kicking him again, but this time, right there. 

“I can see you're still as feisty as ever–” Fellow groaned, holding in between his legs, incapable of getting up because of the pain he was feeling. 

“I thought you were a creep, and now, after I looked at you I confirmed that you are, in fact, a creep.” She said, while Fellow simply looked at her displeased — and in pain. Maisie turned around without a care, wanting to end this exchange right then and there, but Fellow forced himself to get up and walk up to her, grabbing her wrist so she’d stay. 

“Listen, I just want to talk, ok?”

“Talk about what? There's nothing to talk about.” Maisie laughed sarcastically, getting closer to the man as she glared daggers at him. “You left me, not only that you disappeared. No note, no warning, no nothing. And as if that wasn't enough, I had to find out you've been getting yourself into that disgusting, shady business—”

“I thought you liked my shady side?”

“That's criminal. I should've filed a report to the police.” Maisie turned around, freeing her wrist from his grasp, wanting to go home. Fellow however, didn't give up, and stood in front of her, preventing her from leaving. “I advise you to get lost before I kick you in the balls again.”

“Please.” Fellow tried one more time, suddenly serious, his playful facade gone. “Listen to me for a minute, just one minute.”

Maisie looked to the side and loudly groaned. She appeared to be thinking for a moment, until she looked at him again, still angry, but trying to calm down. 

“What do you want, Fellow Honest?”

Fellow smiled. “I want another chance.”

Maisie laughed, very loudly in fact, she couldn't believe the audacity he had to come to her after all this time and ask for another chance. What does he think she is? Some lovesick lady just waiting for her prince charming to come back?

“Listen, I'm not a fool, Fellow.” She began, walking closer to the man, her eyebrows furrowed as her anger became harder to contain. “I may be a romantic, yes, I dream of love and family and a knight in shining armor but I am not a fool. I can recognize a scoundrel, and after what you did to me you've made it clear that you're one.” 

Fellow sighed, frowning at the woman. He was doing his best to be sincere, to open his heart to her, and yet…

Maybe if he explained himself?

“I didn't have a choice, Maisie, I had to make money to sur–”

“That's bullcrap and you know it! You and Gidel weren't doing the best but I was always by your side, I was willing to do what it takes to help you, yet you were always too prideful to ask for help!” 

“Prid– you yourself were having trouble with your family, how the heck would you of all people help?” Fellow finally had lost his cool. He was doing his best to stay calm, collected and polite, especially because he knew he screwed things up, he didn't have any right to get angry… but still, she wasn't even listening to him! “Maisie, I love you, but I was desperate. I had to think about what the best course of action was, I needed a well paying job for–”

“Have you considered that maybe I would’ve wanted to struggle with you?” Fellow’s ears twitched at that.

“Maisie. There was nothing you–”

“I just wanted you to be with me.”

It was quiet after that. Fellow was left unable to reply as his eyes widened, and Maisie's eyes began to sting, a tear falling without warning, and she hurriedly went to dry her face. She breathed in and out, then, she continued.

“I could’ve tried job hunting with you, we could’ve looked for opportunities together, I don't know, just– anything, I would’ve done anything if it meant you’d be by my side. I just wanted you.” she cleared her throat and regained her composure, her angry facade coming back. “But I can see you never even thought of that. To be honest, you probably never even loved me.”

“Wh– No, of course I did.” Fellow tried to reach out to her, to touch her in any way, to get her in his arms and comfort her like he did years ago, but this time, Maisie walked out of his reach, holding herself as to try and not fall for his supposed tricks. “Ribbons…”

“It's miss Bows to you, mister Fellow.” the cat beast woman spoke, her eyes cold as she looked at Fellow one last time. “I hope this is the last time we speak. Good night.”

And with that, she was gone, walking back to her house as she tried to contain the tears that kept falling from her eyes. Seeing Fellow again was the last thing she wanted, she thought she’d be angry, enraged at him, but she was mostly just… sad. He never loved her, not the same way she loved him.

After all, he was a tramp. A mere scoundrel, and she’d just been one of his preys.

Fellow loudly sighed and crouched down, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it up. He inhaled and exhaled and looked to the sky, his eyes looking at the stars for guidance. He was a fool, he knew that, who in their right mind would let Maisie slip through their fingers? A beautiful, kind, charming and strong woman, with a captivating voice who managed to make Fellow go crazy just by speaking his name. 

He never deserved her, but this time, it was like it was confirmed. She was a lady, after all, and she deserved a well meaning gentleman. Not a money hungry and selfish fox like him.

It was painfully clear now, that a lady like her would never be with a tramp like him.

•••

[Train station, a while after the events of Playful Land, before Fellow and Maisie met]

"Goodness, I'm beat. Those kids did a number on us, eh, Gidel?" Fellow stretched his arms as he said that, the feeling of the new clothes on his body felt great, it was as if he could finally relax after having to suck up to such an annoying boss. Gidel nodded, his clothes still oversized as ever, but at this point, Fellow was convinced he simply liked the feeling of them. "Now, I wonder where we should go..." He said that mostly to himself, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up, but Gidel seemed to take that as an actual question.

The kid got up from his seat and immediately began searching in Fellow's belongings, in the few bags they were able to bring from Playful Land. Fellow complained at him for looking through his stuff without asking, but once the smaller one showed up what he wanted, the ginger immediately shut up.

"Stop, leave that alone." Fellow said, immediately grabbing the small photo he so adored. "What did you want with that anyway?"

Gidel grabbed the hand he was using to hold the photo, and the cat beastman pointed towards the one in the picture, trying to convey what he wanted through his actions. Fellow stayed a moment in quiet, not because he didn't understand, but rather, because he was unsure.

"You know she doesn't want to see me, not even if I was covered in gold." He stared at the picture, a photo he took of Maisie when they first started dating. Even after they broke up he was unable to get rid of it, holding onto her smile for dear life. "As much as she likes you, I'm pretty sure it's going to be hatred by association because you walk with me, Gidel."

Gidel pleaded, his hands locked together as his eyes were closed. It wasn't just Fellow who missed her, Maisie had become an important figure in Gidel's life, and he hated the idea of not seeing her ever again, but now, they were free, they could see each other, so why not give it a try?

Fellow was quiet for a moment, before he sighed.

"Fine. But don't tell me I didn't warn ya later, you ninny."

[brostateexam]

Have not been saying much for a while because everything is hard.

I. My BiL has had c diff three times now and after the third time the oncologist decided to take a damn the torpedoes approach because they were wasting weeks that should have been devoted to chemo because he was too sick and too weak to withstand outpatient treatment. I haven't seen him irl since December but my mom says he looks rough and if his immune system is so messed up that he keeps getting c diff idk that I really want to visit him. What if I get him sick?

All of this is background to me, though, because mostly I'm invested in my sister. She wants to divorce him. He needs to be better enough that she won't face ostracization for doing so. I am invested in him getting better enough for that to proceed for her sake.

II. Something about my relationship with my mom has been bothering me and I finally figured out what it is: everything is equally important to her. She doesn't prioritize anything. If I am having a tough time and ask for help she'll say "well I'm busy every day this week but I can come over next week in Thursday for ninety minutes" and then when she comes over I ask her what she was up to, both to make conversation and because I'm nosy, and it's like... she volunteered for a clothing drive at the synagogue. She went grocery shopping. She went to a farmer's market. Thanks for fitting me into your schedule, I guess! Glad to know I am on the same level as farm fresh tomatoes.

III. I have been having a really tough time of it for the last few months. The vacation in Mexico was... Not restful. Shane had a seizure on the plane and I spent the first two days managing logistics related to that (and navigating the extra ~$2k I spent covering his medical costs while on the trip). His back is still fucked up almost two months later and so I get to do extra housework and chores because he can't lift or bend without being in pain.

IV. Resultant to III, I had a really awful period of about a month with an online friend who started being super short and terse with me because I've been around online less. It was really clear he felt like I was ditching him to go hang out with my cool friends or something, instead of the reality of the situation: I'm cleaning litter boxes and doing yard work and changing the sheets on the bed aka #livingthedream. I told him about all the stuff that was going on but it was clear he didn't believe me or resented my absence nevertheless. This came to a head with me basically texting him an essay about why he was being a bad friend. In a turn of good news, he listened, and apologized, and we mended fences. That was nice because I just don't know how much more bad news I can take right now.

V. I've been struggling with work but really it's just. My boss. My coworkers like me. My project sponsors like me. My skip level likes me. My exec likes me. It's just him. We don't have a good relationship and I don't know how to fix it. I don't know that it is fixable. This is a problem because this is the guy I need in my corner to advance my career and I don't know that he'll do that for me. The alternative is leaving my company, which sounds attractive on paper but in practice the job market is so so bad and it's just so discouraging. The idea of a new job sounds incredible. I wish I could do that. Maybe even a career change.

VI. Unfortunately, that's not gonna happen because of financial pressures. NGL, as much as I like my house (and I do -- I love its little windows, I love my pink dining nook and green bedroom, I love the mature fruit trees and pretty backyard full of wildflowers), I wish i had the cash in hand, instead. I feel trapped here, and like I'm making the most of it. That's a shit feeling to have.

VII. I've started regaining weight. Not a lot. Fifteen pounds since October. But it's scaring me. It's making me wonder if this whole surgery thing was pointless because I can't seem to stop myself from wanting to eat myself to death. So I'm trying to beat it back without resorting to "diet culture behaviors" (read: disordered eating) and that's tough.

There could be a separate post for things that are going well perhaps, but this is what's going not so well and it feels like a lot. Sometimes it feels like too much.

[cheollipop]

Yay sleepover!! I recently got surgery so I have a semi nasty cut on my stomach at the moment and I was wondering if you could write a cute fluffy drabble on mingi or San helping replace the bandages but like the reader is a bit insecure about their stomach and is also not good with medical stuff so he just kisses their tummy as he helps them heal or something? Idk I just love your writing and just tired and in need of fluff haha

2𝙠 𝙎𝙡𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙀𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩

hello anonnie!! aah make sure you rest well and take care of yourself, I wish you a quick recovery!! ^^ this was honestly such a cute prompt ;; I hope it provides you with some comfort my darling <3

pairing: song mingi x gn!reader

w.c.: 0.5k

tags: fluff, established relationship, reader has a surgical wound/cut on her stomach, just mingi being the sweetest;;

happy reading~

“Min, I can do it myself,” you complained, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“And have your nurse yell at me again for not helping?” Mingi chuckled breathily, reassuring you with a look before gently replacing your hands with his own. He began pulling the material up to rest under your chest, running a gentle thumb over the peeling edges of the adhesive pad near your bellybutton.

“Ming-”

“Baby, relax,” he placed his palm down on your shoulder when you attempted to sit up, laying you back down on the mattress. “Let me do this for you.”

His eyes—wide and glimmering with adoration—fixed on your face, fingers tracing calming patterns over your skin while he asked for your permission to continue. A whispered “okay” brought a toothy smile to his plump lips, similar to a child given candy, before he ran off to wash his hands.

Settled back at your side with a pair of gloves covering his hands, he began peeling off the sticky dressing, caressing the reddened skin at which it was tugging as he removed it. He peeked at your face after every step, ensuring discomfort and pain never tainted your features. He babbled praise and nonsensical words while he cleaned the wound, things like “I couldn’t believe how a person could look that beautiful coming out of surgery,” all while he bore a genuine smile on his lips, his warm gaze moving between his hands and your flustered face, chuckling while he asked you keep still as you attempted to slap his shoulder.

Butterflies escaped your stomach, fluttering vivid wings within your entire body every time Mingi glanced at you, the infatuation and unending devotion evident in the dark irises, and you could almost see the future he had planned with you playing in his head while he took you in. You, with your hair in disarray and in dire need of a wash, body fatigued and eyes drooping, felt undeserving of this love, this care. And yet Mingi never stopped giving it, even when you denied his offer, he remained persistent, pushing it onto you until “no” ceased to be a usable response.

With deft fingers, he placed a clean pad onto the wound, throwing his gloves away and peering at your resting figure, eyes closed and breath even. Perhaps a little hurt, the past who-knows-how-many-minutes of compliments he’d assumed you were ignoring going unheard, he mooned over your relaxed state with a pout on his lips. He pried his eyes off you, leaning down to press fleeting kisses along the sides of the dressing, holding back his breath as to not wake you, simply basking in the warmth of your skin on his lips.

Covering you back up, he brought the duvet up to your shoulders, tucking you into bed with a final kiss to your forehead, then your eyelid, and finally your cheek. He just couldn’t help himself, because despite looking dishevelled, he needed you to know that his love for you goes beyond that. That he would part the sea for you if you’d drunkenly requested for it, that he was so stupidly devoted to you—in all your forms. That if all it took was his endless nagging and puppy eyes for you to concede, to yield for his care, then Mingi would continue to bat his eyelashes and annoy you into submission.

[unityrain24]

anyways was thinking of a thor ragnarok rewrite last night as sleep refused to take me. obviously it can't be exactly like actual ragnarok bc marvel/mcu's norse stuff is..nothing like actual norse lore but i figured it could still have some more similarities than what the actual movie did.

(also if i were to rewrite the movie this isn't actually what id do, this was just. idk. what i was thinkin about as i was desperate to actually falll asleep).

anyways i figured this rewrite would actually work best if it rewrote the end of tdw first- loki gets stabbed by kruse and passes out for a while (rather than being able to pick himself back up in secret like what actually happened) and in that time odin senses that loki isn't dead and sends some guards to collect him. since loki technically broke the law *again* (committed treason, escaped jail, etc), he can enforce even more punishment, especially now that frigga is dead and she can't do anything about it. That, combined with some prophecy from midgard (or maybe asgard, idk) as an excuse added justifying reason, he sentences loki to the worst thing he can think up: to be bound against a rock with a snake dripping venom on him, his lips sewn shut so he can never lie again, forced to be in his jotun form, for all of eternity. In the deepest dungeon.

Thor obviously doesn't know about any of this, because he thinks loki dead.

so loki is taken, bound to a rock (idk if it's really work to have him bound with organs tho, since he doesn't have children in the mcu. maybe it's his..pet's? or maybe just chain. idk.), a snake coiled above him, seiðr bound, lips sewn shut, and his æsir form taken. He is completely alone, save the guards outside the chamber.

i don't really ship logyn in the mcu, (bc she doesn't exist in the mcu and their relationship feels to me like it would span for several centuries prior, so just randomly introducing her in one movie would seem strange to me), but i follow some people who do, so i wondered how i could incorporate that anyways, and make it not seem too strange.

Sigyn is one of the guards who has a shift guarding loki's chambers. She feels awful about it though, and eventually decides she has to do something to help. She ventures into the chamber and decides to catch the dripping venom with her helmet.

She also tries to cut the stitches from lokis lips, but when one string is cut, it doubles and repierces the skin, now twice the strength. She tries again, cutting them all at once this time (rather than individually), and grabs them all at once and pulls them out before they can multiply and repair themselves (luckily this time it works). She almost regrets it, though, as now she has to hear loki scream himself hoarse, and she can't do anything else to ease the pain.

she stays for several weeks/months/idk, holding the helmet above loki, having to empty it every so often. Perhaps she gets to know loki in this time, perhaps she doesn't. Perhaps she notices a certain brand on his shoulder, perhaps she does not. Perhaps she knew loki vaguely before, and now muses to herself what could have possibly changed him. Perhaps she didn't know him before, and doesn't muse. I don't know. But eventually she decides she needs to find and tell thor.

as hard as it is, she leaves loki to suffer alone (she tries to see if she can leave the helmet or fashion some contraption to make sure the poison cannot get in his eyes, but she cannot). After some searching and asking, she finds the mourning sullen prince thor and tells him what has occurred. Thor, now filled with joy, rage, guilt, horror, and sadness, breaks loki out with sigyn.

Loki is a mess. He has gone blind- whether temporarily or permanently is unknown- and has visible burns from the acid venom. His hairs a mess and his skin sweaty and thin. You can see his rib cage with how thin he's become. He wasn't allowed much clothes at the start of his punishment, but what few he had have been burned by the venom as well. He can't walk. He's barely conscious, and what little bit he is is just filled with delirium. They basically have to carry him.

They hide away from asgard (or at least the palace). And then ragnarok gets unleashed and they have to fix it etc and in the end they realize that it wasn't literally loki's being freed that incited ragnarok, but it was necessary for him to be freed so they could help stop/fix it/lessen the damage etc idk i was pretty tired at this point i wasn't thinking of details. anyways

idk if that made any sense lol but i'll tag the logyn people i follow/was thinking of

@therese-lokidottir @jonquilclegane @cosmic0artist

[drabbles-mc]

Tailed

Happy Lowman x F!Reader

For Day 3 of @whumpril's 2023 Challenge: rope burns/knife to throat/"hold still"

Warnings: 18+, angst, injury, murder, language

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: It's been a minute since I've written for Happy, I feel like. I love this dude. I think he deserves a woman who is willing to kill for him idk.

SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @chibsytelford @anditsmywholeheart @i-just-read-stuff @justreblogginfics @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @winchestershiresauce @beardburnsupersoldiers @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @nessamc @garbinge @passionatewrites @camelia35 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The bag that had been over his head for a while now didn’t bode well for him. The ropes that were binding and ripping the skin of his wrists and ankles didn’t exactly spell out good news for him either. He wasn’t too worried, though. It was concerning, sure, but it was far from the first time he’d found himself in circumstances like this. Knowing him, it probably wouldn’t be the last either.

He had a gut feeling that whoever it was that had snagged him, and whatever their issues were with him, weren’t exactly related to the club. It was no secret that the MC had its fair share of enemies, and that particular laundry list of people would’ve been a good place to start, but as far as Happy knew he was alone. And none of the people who had captured him had called anyone. If it was something to do with the MC, someone would’ve asked him about it or made some sort of phone call by this point, but there was nothing. He wondered if the club even realized yet that he had been snatched up.

Whoever these people were, they definitely wanted him for personal reasons. Happy didn’t find that to be surprising in the slightest either. With all the people he knew and the things he’d done, he’d built up quite the roster of people who would like to see him dead or dying.

No one had said anything to him since he got thrown into what he was assuming was a van of some kind. He was sitting upright so he knew that they hadn’t tossed him in the trunk of some car, and the fact that there was a cushion underneath him let him know that he wasn’t just getting tossed into the back of some U-Haul. None of those details helped him figure out who had him and why.

Since no one said anything to him, he didn’t say anything to them. He wasn’t like Tig—he wasn’t in the habit of being chatty and making things worse. Sometimes his dedication to silence also made things worse, but it wasn’t quite the same.

Happy had no concept of time as they continued to drive to wherever their mystery destination was. He could hear the murmurs of the people in the car but they weren’t talking loud enough for him to make anything out. He listened for a GPS, or even to try and catch one of them giving directions to the other, but there was nothing. The entire time he was waiting and listening, he was trying to work at the ropes around his wrists. He could feel it ripping at his skin, but he still kept at it. Again, it wasn’t the worst pain he had ever endured. It surely wouldn’t be as bad as whatever was going to ensue once he actually got his hands free.

He just started feeling like he was making a little bit of progress with it when the van made a sharp right turn with no warning at all. Happy grunted as he tipped over in the seat, quickly scrambling to try and get himself upright again. He got an assist that was more hurtful than it was helpful, feeling someone ball their fist into the back of his shirt and push him upright and directly against the side of the van with more roughness than necessary.

“What the fuck was that?!” the man next to him yelled to the driver. It was the most Happy had heard out of anyone aside from their grunts and curses since they captured him.

“Got a tail,” another man, one Happy assumed was the driver, said back to them. “Trying to lose them.”

“By turning and almost going through a fucking building?!”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

The man next to him huffed. “Who’s tailing us anyway?”

“White Chevy. Two cars back.”

Happy started laughing at that—he couldn’t help himself. The club might not have known that he was MIA yet, but of course you did. He should’ve seen that coming.

The man balled his fist into Happy’s shirt, yanking him so that he was face-to-face with him. Even though Happy couldn’t see him through the dark fabric of the hood covering his head, he could still feel the man’s nose pressing against his own.

“Who the fuck is following us?”

“I don’t know,” Happy replied, “I can’t see them.”

He felt the pressure of a knife being pressed against his throat. “Who the fuck is it?!”

Happy remained silent, and the man pressed the blade a little harder into the column of his throat. Happy felt the slight pull and the residual sting of the knife breaking the skin on his neck. It wasn’t a bad cut, not deep enough to be an imminent issue, but it was a promising threat that things were going to get worse if these guys didn’t get answers.

“Someone who is gonna be a real fucking problem for you guys if they get you.”

“Fuck me,” the man next to him grumbled.

The answer must’ve been satisfactory enough, because he pulled the blade away from Happy’s throat. It was a relief, but most because Happy didn’t trust the guy next to him to have a steady hand and if the driver made another sharp turn it was going to be game over very quickly.

“What do you wanna do?” the third guy finally spoke up loud enough for Happy to be able to hear him.

There was something familiar about the guy’s voice. Happy couldn’t quite place it, but he definitely knew it. Whoever the man riding shotgun was, he was the one who must’ve had the vendetta against Happy. He didn’t know who he was or what the vendetta was, and honestly he didn’t particularly care. Happy just wanted all of this to be over with. He was much more certain that things would go his way and that he would live to fight another day now that he knew that you were tailing them.

“I don’t know,” the driver said as he made another turn. “We just, we gotta lose ‘em.”

Happy laughed. “Good luck.”

The remark was met with the guy next to him slamming the side of his head into the side of the van. It was worth it. For a moment Happy understood why Tig was the way he was.

Happy was still working against the binds on his wrists but at this point it felt like it was no use. He was better off waiting for you to sink your teeth into these guys and free him rather than trying to wriggle out himself. It clearly wasn’t working anyway.

A few more minutes ticked by, filled with chaotic turns and the driver slamming on the gas. Finally, though, he said, “I think we’re in the clear.”

All three of the men let out sighs of relief, but Happy knew that they were speaking too soon. Anyone else in his position might’ve been disheartened, but he knew that they weren’t going to get rid of you that easily. You might not have been right behind them anymore, but you definitely weren’t gone.

As if you had been reading his thoughts, the van came to a screeching halt. Happy and the other man in the seat row with him toppled forward, smacking against the seats in front of them. He heard the thudding of the man riding shotgun slamming his hands against the dash to brace themselves. All four of them were cursing as they tried to get themselves right again. Happy didn’t know if being completely in the dark made it harder or easier to do that.

“Son of a bitch!” the man riding shotgun yelled out.

Happy heard the guy next to him take a deep breath, most likely gearing up for some snide comment or more cursing, but he never got the chance as someone started shooting. Happy heard the first two hit the glass of the windshield and he immediately sunk down in his seat. It had to be you. He heard the guys firing back from inside the van, and he did what little he could do given his current circumstances and he threw his body against that of the man sitting next to him. He was rewarded with the sound of the man’s gun clattering to the floor and the guy cursing as he set himself loose on Happy, grabbing him and landing whatever blows he could as the gunfire continued.

Happy was as defenseless as he’d ever been with his hands bound behind his back and his head still covered with the hood. He was trying to kick but his ankles being tied made that difficult too. He tried to squirm and keep moving, anything to keep the hits from landing directly.

Even with all the chaos, it was impossible to miss the sound of a bullet burying itself into someone’s skull. When it happened, the entire van was still and silent for all of a couple seconds before the chaos picked back up and was even more intense.

A few moments after that, there was the sound of the vehicle doors being ripped open. There was screaming and grunting and gunshots, and Happy was just hoping that you were coming out on the winning end of it all.

“Get on the fucking ground!” you yelled as you put a bullet into the kneecap of the man that you’d forcefully pulled out of the passenger seat.

Happy had never been so relieved to hear your rage. He was so distracted by the sound of you that when he heard the back door of the van open and someone grab onto him, he automatically assumed it was another threat. If it wasn’t you that was getting him out, he couldn’t help but to think that it was someone else who had the intention of hurting him.

He thrashed as much as he could until the person spoke up. “Hap, shit, stop, it’s me,” Juice was trying to cut the ropes on Happy’s wrists, or at least pull the hood off his head, but the constant movement made both of those things difficult.

Juice’s voice wasn’t the one that Happy was expecting to hear, but it still got him to stop fighting against the assistance. There was the sound of another gunshot and then Juice finally pulled the hood off so that Happy could see. The sun was blinding, a jarring shift from the hours of darkness he’d just endured, but he wasn’t upset about it. The first thing he saw was the man that Juice had shot and killed slumped in the back seat. Once he realized that he wasn’t going to be an immediate threat, he turned his head, looking around for you as he squinted against the harsh light.

That’s when he saw you, leaning over the man who had been sitting in the passenger seat. You’d shot out both of the guy’s legs. You had your knee pinned to his chest as you leaned over him, the mouth of your gun pressed harshly beneath the man’s chin. Even though there was distance between you, Happy could see the way you were breathing heavily, he could feel the rage coming off of you.

Even though he knew that Juice was trying to free him, Happy was still having a hard time sitting still to let it happen when he knew that you were so close. Juice huffed in annoyance behind him as he tried to do his job without slicing open one of Happy’s wrists in the process. “Hold still for five seconds, Happy. Seriously.”

None of Happy’s attention was focused on himself or Juice anymore though, not when he could hear the conversation happening a few feet away.

“Who the fuck are you?” the man spat out.

You wanted to make a comment to the effect of, “I should be the one asking you that,” but then you realized that you didn’t particularly care who this guy was. You didn’t really care why he wanted Happy. You knew perfectly well that the man you were with had more enemies than smiley face tattoos. It wasn’t surprising that he had landed himself in hot water.

Juice had cut the ties around Happy’s wrists and was just about to be done with the ones around his ankles when you pulled the trigger on your gun one more time, causing the man’s head to snap back as the bullet went clean through it from bottom to top.

“Fuck,” Juice said with a shake of his head as he finally cut through the last of the rope.

The second Happy was free, he was up on his feet and making his way over to you. He wasn’t running, but you could see the determination in his stride and the set of his shoulders. When he got over to you, he held out his hand to help you up from your position of kneeling on the man’s dead body. You tucked your gun back into its holster before slapping your hand into his, both of you tightening your grips as he helped pull you back up onto your feet.

The second you were completely upright, Happy stepped in like he was going to kiss you, but you stopped him as you pressed your palm against your chest. He opened his mouth to ask you what was going on, but you quickly moved your hand up and cupped his chin in your hand before tilting his head up slightly. You saw the cut running along the side of his throat and you frowned.

Once Happy realized what you were doing and looking at, his body relaxed a little bit. He almost started laughing. All the things that had happened in the last few hours and this was what you were getting hung up on. “I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes as you let go of his chin. “Of course you’re going to say that.”

The two of you were about to start getting into it in the middle of all the carnage you’d caused when Juice interjected himself into your conversation. “Hey, guys, we gotta…we gotta go.”

Just as he said that, you heard the sirens in the distance. That was fair, and expected after all the gunshots. You pointed at Happy accusingly. “This conversation isn’t over.”

Happy knew better than to argue with you. “Alright.”

It was a quiet drive home. You dropped Juice back off at his place with a quick thank you and a promise to reach out to him later. As the two of you drove back to Happy’s you could feel him looking at you from the passenger seat but you didn’t say anything about it. You knew that he probably had his fair share of questions, and you certainly had your own, but right now all you wanted to do was get back home. All of the questions and the conversations could wait until later, preferably until tomorrow. You didn’t say anything as you drove, but it didn’t stop you from reaching over and resting your hand on top of his on the console, careful not to touch the scraped and bloodied parts of his wrists where the rope had been digging into him only a little while before.

[imsickofpasswords]

GOS2 analysis: A New Hope (or… Guys, I think I cracked the ending !!!😳🤯)

SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!!SPOILER ALERT!!! (Even for those who watched both seasons several times!!!)

Hi! You are about to read a mixture between a theory and a revelation. Both could be figments of my mind making things up by dint of overthinking and overwatching (...is there such a thing as overwatching GO?) Anyway, I must warn you that if you DO see what I think I saw, the agony you endured for months (maybe you got used to it, maybe you befriended it, maybe you don’t want it to go), the excruciating pain that led you here, will come to an end NOW. For me, Good Omens is a work-of-art and NOTHING will take the passion/obsession away, trauma or no trauma. If you're like me, then read on! 

Before I dive into the thick of the matter, allow me to stress a couple of things. I know you know, but this is still very important. Please, bear with me…

Aziraphale and Crowley KNOW each other. 

They share a 6000 year-old friendship. Surely you experienced that, at least once in your life, with a long-time friend or partner: you finish each other’s sentences, you glance at each other and burst out laughing when nobody else understands why, you speak the same coded language that doesn’t even require words. That’s how close Aziraphale and Crowley are. Aziraphale can predict Crowley's every reaction. He knows how to manipulate him with just a pout or a frown. Crowley knows what makes Aziraphale tick. He knows what the angel holds dearest. He can figure out Aziraphale's state of mind just by listening to the TONE of his voice. He knows how Aziraphale SMELLS! 

They also know WHO the other one is, I mean deep down, what they want and what they’re capable of… 

Aziraphale and Crowley TRUST each other. 

‘I could always rely on you, you could always rely on me.’ 

And

'You could have walked away'

'You said trust me'

'And you did.'

So on… you know all those lines by heart and I'm sure you could come up with oodles of examples. 

Walls have ears(floors too).

Someone wrote somewhere (was that on Youtube?) that the 25 lazari miracle could have been performed by the Metratron, since the magic circle was once used to contact him and was probably never turned off properly afterwards. That's an interesting theory. 

Personally, I don't believe the Metatron was involved in the miracle. I already elaborated about this in my first theory https://www.tumblr.com/imsickofpasswords/732879204359847936/a-theory-of-the-ineffable-plan-by and sort of got confirmation when Uriel asked what the miracle was and Aziraphale answered 'love, it was love!' 

I nonetheless realized that the Metratron could indeed be using this channel to spy on Aziraphale. If so, since when? I don’t think it could be from the first time Aziraphale drew the circle, because Adam reset reality after that. Adam would have closed the portal, wouldn't he? Idk. My bet is the snooping began after the miracle, and the magnitude of the miracle is what scared the Metratron into trying to separate Aziraphale and Crowley.  

Such considerations had me wonder if what feels like altered memories isn't actually the Metratron prying into Aziraphale's mind (indigovigilance from Tumblr pointed out that ALL the flashbacks seem to emanate from Aziraphale). Or maybe the Metatron has been reading… Aziraphale’s diary. (Btw, does anyone know what happened to that diary?) The Metratron does brag about looking back over Aziraphale's "exploits" (translation: infringements). Plural. So, not just stopping Armageddon? What else? Saving Job's children? Helping out Elspeth? 

What's more, the Metatron compliments Muriel, the "dim one", on reading books. 'What a splendid thing to do!' and then he glares at the bookshop. 

Aziraphale is not always Aziraphale

I don’t know about you, but I shriveled in horror when Aziraphale promised to give away a book. Had I just slipped into another dimension?

One perfectly acceptable explanation is that love is more important to Aziraphale than books. Fine. Why then does he only offer to LEND a book after Crowley pointed out how IMPOSSIBLE it is for the angel to even THINK of selling a book? In the novel, people who insist on buying books from Aziraphale’s shop go missing FOREVER…

It feels like the usurper realized they made a mistake and tried not to make it twice. Also, what's with the French? Aziraphale spoke French when he was in prison, and he certainly wasn't struggling like that. Last but not least, he does move his hands a lot, but not in the same fashion as he usually does. This was NOT Aziraphale (I think).

We saw how supernatural beings can change their appearance without swapping bodies. Shax changed her face whilst hitchhiking when she HAD NO REASON TO (Aziraphale had never met her before). 

I believe the Metatron is the one who turned into Aziraphale. But just for a moment ( I burnt my eyes checking Michael Sheen's every facial expression and gesture and tone of voice throughout the entire season and I couldn't spot anything amiss outside that moment, let me know if I'm wrong). Just a short period of time, then. Why? To see if Crowley would fall for it. I don't know if our beloved demon did. 

The obvious objection to this theory is: surely the real Aziraphale would realize that some of his guests had already been invited by… HIMSELF? Well, Nina kept Crowley for a moment. We don't know that the Metatron didn't go around erasing people's memory of him. 

Ok, okay, admittedly,  it is far-fetched, probably complete bullshit. But I needed to mention this because it's also a part of how I interpret the ending. Nope! I'm not saying the Metatron is the one who got kissed by Crowley!!! That would be… OMG, 🤮

The bullet trick…

Aziraphale is a magician. And his magic seems to always work when he needs it most, providing he uses this formula:"banana, fish, gorilla, shoelace with a dash of nutmeg” the magic words that Mark Gatiss as a zombie reads from the angel's lips. 

And there it comes, the showstopper. Actually the "REHEARSAL of the showstopper", as I call it, and you’ll find out why very soon. Please, pause here and go fetch the scene, you’ll need to watch CAREFULLY. See how scared Crowley is when Aziraphale hands over the gun? Crowley is maybe wondering why the miracles aren't working and if he is not about to actually kill his only friend. Then, Crowley mutters something. No idea what, but something like, I can't do it. And Aziraphale, reading his lips, replies in the same fashion, lipspeaking. Whatever the angel says then, Crowley understands it, and it's enough for him to overcome his fear. 

The ACTUAL showstopper.

I think you got it by now: what I thought when I saw that, and what I wanted to do next. I didn't rush to the last episode although I was dying to. I didn't want to miss anything and I couldn't believe what I expected would actually happen. But it DID. 

The Metatron knows that people are predictable and that nobody ever chooses death over coffee. We don't see his entire conversation with Aziraphale but even if the Metatron doesn't flat out threaten to erase Crowley's name from the Book Of Life, Aziraphale is very aware that this is an option as Michael already said she was given permission to do so. Check Aziraphale's face the minute the Metatron mentions Crowley. Aziraphale hears the threat loud and clear. His face goes grim. He knows he doesn't have a choice but to play along if he's going to save Crowley. 

"Go tell your friend the good news!" 

Aziraphale smiles, but he is distraught and terrified. The ineffable husbands KNOW each other, remember? There’s no way Aziraphale thinks Crowley will follow him to heaven. Besides, Aziraphale is INTELLIGENT. He knows The Metadick (whoever invented that name, I love you) doesn’t want Crowley back. So all the pleading, come with me, to the light, we'll be doing good, yada yada… is FAKE. All Aziraphale wants when he enters the bookshop is to let Crowley know about the situation without raising suspicions from the Metatron who is watching from outside. That's why the angel keeps glancing at the window whilst using his "something is wrong voice". Now, dear reader, fellow victim who cried your eyes out for months, if you still have eyes, LOOK AGAIN. 

When Aziraphale starts to talk about the offer, Crowley frowns, not in disbelief or in anger but in intense focus on… Aziraphale's lips. Can you see them? The SILENT words at the end of the sentences? Tell me you see them too. Please. You do, right? Or do I need to seek help? 

Everything after that, every line, is a smoke screen meant for the Metatron (and poor us…) The Metatron is to believe that two lovers got into a fight and got torn apart. Even angels and demons are predictable! 

The kiss, of course, is a mean to conceal the moment when Crowley extracts himself from the timeline, taking Aziraphale with him so they can discuss away from prying eyes and ears. Hence the missing fifteen minutes on the clock. 🙂

I think Crowley's confession was genuine. But it was also there to make the fight more convincing. And no one here will say it wasn't convincing… My guess is there must have been another confession, maybe another kiss? A real, tender, passionate, romantic, heart-wrenching kiss that left Aziraphale pressing hard on his lips, aching for more. “Do it again.” But the Metatron would notice… so… "I…forgive you", you foul fiend who thought you could tempt me with such a lowly, dirty and pathetic trick (translation, I love you… and I don't want to leave you, go before I burst into tears, I don't have sunglasses…)

So. They didn't fight!!!!  They are still a team, a group of two, a couple, and more than ever!! 

Not done yet. There is one last thing that you saw. When the Metatron reveals his plans about the Second Coming, Aziraphale pauses before entering the elevator. And it may last less than a split second, but I can swear that his lips moved again as he was staring at Crowley. Someone crossed the street right after, but Aziraphale kept looking at Crowley although the camera was too far for us to see the lips. However, there was enough time to convey a lot of information. 

Now, did they swap? Aziraphale doesn't gesture much after the kiss. Crowley drives under the speed limit and for the first time while Crowley is driving, Queen isn't playing. But. Aziraphale is walking away from his friend-now-lover, not knowing if he actually saved him, or… knowing that he did NOT save him. Crowley is crushed, and probably worried sick about Aziraphale walking alone into an obvious trap. The demon can remember only too vividly how Heaven wanted to end Aziraphale. 

The Bentley is sad too, and not just because her master is. She (Yes, she!) grew feelings for Aziraphale, who allowed her to wear fancy yellow and took her to an exciting trip and managed to have her play something new… She likes him so much that she tries to follow him, like a puppy, remember? I think she's the one who played the Nightingale song, to comfort Crowley and herself. As Sendaraya predicted in one of her YouTube videos, we may find out later that this was the Ineffable Husbands' song, ever since 1941, when their relationship started to drift towards romance. 

Last but not least, the main reason why I don't think they swapped. I firmly believe the Metatron is planning to wear Aziraphale's face again. Metasick has unresolved issues with Crowley who, annoyingly, still retains some of his memories. Memories that may have become indelible because of Aziraphale's presence. But of course, to impersonate Aziraphale, Crowley's soft spot and only weakness, the Metatron needs to keep Aziraphale out of the picture…

To be continued… (Season 3!!! And for the record, great pustulent mangled bollocks to the ones who delayed it, and I'm NOT talking about the writers and actors…🤬)

Thanks for reading^^

[theneighborhoodwatch]

002 - Popstar, Franklydear and whatever we call what Wally and Home have going on

(send me a character/ship to hear my thoughts)

i've gotten Multiple asks about all of these pairings, so let's not waste anymore time. under the cut bc unsurprisingly this got Long.

POPSTAR

when or if I started shipping it: i think it first Really started with this pokemon AU post clown made talking about what he thought they'd be up to in that universe... the language he uses in that post really caught my eye, and it just kinda snowballed from there, especially as canon started picking up and we saw more of them interacting 1-on-1.

my thoughts: i feel like we don't really get a lot of yuri in this specific Type of horror (i.e. cute thing is secretly fucked up), at least not in the west. i think that's a crying shame, but i believe popstar has the potential to truly open the floodgates. unless i'm forgetting herstory - idk i feel like there's definitely some rpgmaker game out there that'll prove me wrong but you know what i mean. more mascot horror yuri NOW.

What makes me happy about them: i think it's super cute that they both kinda geek out whenever one of them asks the other for help, like they're being asked by this big huge celebrity and not, like. their literal next door neighbor lol. sally in particular - as bullheaded as she is, her insistence on trying to put poppy in the spotlight more often isn't because she thinks poppy is untalented and needs to train up, but because she genuinely thinks poppy is Just That Stunning And Talented And Beautiful, and doesn't want that to go to waste. nepotism has never looked so romantic <3

What makes me sad about them: sally seems to enlist poppy's help Way more than poppy does sally's, and while sally clearly Wants to take poppy seriously, she has a hard time not immediately brushing off other's concerns in general because She's An Auteur, Dammit, She Knows What She's Talking About. it does make me very worried for poppy! i think things between them are gonna get Way worse before they get better lol. not dysfunctional enough to be toxic yuri but certainly painful enough that it will Get Me when it happens.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: THAT NOBODY WRITES IT

Things I look for in fanfic: MORE OF IT

My kinks: again, serious in-depth answers go on the nsfw blog only. i will say i think they're definitely those people who keep trying to set up roleplay scenes only to get distracted by trying to figure out the technical aspects and/or getting so in-character that they forgot what the end goal was.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: poppy partridge if you read this im free on Thursday night and would like to hang out. Please respond to this and then hang out with me on Thursday night when I’m free.

My happily ever after for them: after a series of trials and tribulations, complete with at least one breakup arc, the two of them reconcile in an appropriately dramatic apology-that-looks-suspiciously-like-a-marriage-proposal scene. i don't really know what happens after that. i was going to say they go on to become lesbian statler and waldorf, but i think they would both be too invested in trying to give actual constructive criticism, so maybe they just mst3k it instead.

FRANKLYDEAR

when or if I started shipping it: i dunno! i don't remember ever being opposed to the ship, but there was definitely a period of time where my approach to it was more "hmmm i wonder what this ship being canon means for welcome home's Themes" and less "ough fuck they make me so sick," as opposed to the current day where it's a pretty even mix of both.

my thoughts: god what haven't i said about them. i think i peaked with this post. i don't think anything i say can summarize the appeal of their relationship to me more succinctly than that.

What makes me happy about them: when it comes to eddie, frank is like. frank is so fucking funny bc he seems to be under the impression that he's being subtle. yeah get mad whenever anyone who isn't you makes fun of that beautiful big breasted mailman to the point where you'll even defend his honor in the merch advertisements and also when you Do make fun of him be sure to be gentler than you would be with almost anyone else but also don't let up entirely bc then you won't get to see him be adorably flustered and also enforce a surname-only basis with him so people don't think you're getting too chummy but ALSO drop the surname-only basis whenever he seems genuinely upset to let him know that you're worried about him and want to help. and also do this in front of everyone at a holiday party. nobody will suspect a thing. and the best part is that IT WORKS ON EDDIE. EDDIE ALSO THINKS FRANK IS COOL AND TRUSTWORTHY AND RELIABLE ENOUGH THAT HE AUDIBLY/VISIBLY RELAXES WHENEVER FRANK ENTERS A SCENE.

What makes me sad about them: EDDIE'S ASS IS NOT PREPARED FOR THE DAY THAT IT'LL BE FRANK IN THE PROVERBIAL LOVESEAT OF TORMENT. arguably neither is frank but like given how eddie saw frank at the end of the homewarming special? it's going to FUCK him up.

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: when i click on the eddie dear/frank frankly tag. and i filter out all mentions of wally darling. i should not still be seeing wally darling. do u understand. get that little yellow cunt OUT of here!!!!!!!

Things I look for in fanfic: pre-established relationship hurt/comfort or angst. i realize i may be alone in my interpretation of franklydear as not being Together together yet, but i am stubborn.

My kinks: i wonder how many times i can say "ask for my nsfw blog" without it getting old.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: GOOD QUESTION. i don't think either of them would particularly struggle to find a partner if they didn't end up with each other, but i also can't see either of them being attracted to any of their other neighbors.

My happily ever after for them: these two images specifically. in general they should get to be huge cornballs for at least a little while should they successfully endure The Horrors.

HOME AND WALLY. HOMEWALLY? WALLYHOME? WHO KNOWS.

when or if I started shipping it: an old friend of mine made a joke about it once in 2022, waaaay before there was any like, huge fandom presence outside of a few scant discord servers. i thought about it too hard and now i'm here.

my thoughts: romantically or not, THEY ARE SOOOOO DOOMED, DUDE. THEY ARE SO FUCKING DOOMED. and i don't mean, like, "yeah they have some stuff that makes their current relationship less than ideal but i'm sure they can work things out ^-^" no i mean DOOMED. there's only one way this relationship can end and it is in BLOOD and TEARS. and i will be there with a tissue box and a big ol' bucket of popcorn. i've written about them so much on this blog already but by god i will write more.

What makes me happy about them: the obsessive aspect to their relationship, like. it feels very mutual. it would be so easy to make home coldly imposing 24/7 and/or just have them be taking advantage of wally's love for them, but. no. they seem just as attached to their inhabitant as he is to them, for better or worse. i get a lot more mileage out of a relationship where both parties Love each other and desperately want to be all-encompassing for one another in All aspects of relationships, but live in a reality where that simply cannot be, and their relationship is wildly unhealthy as a result. home is a monument to a past that either never existed or cannot be revived without Severe consequences. but wally doesn't care about that. all wally cares about is that he is his home. see also: this post.

What makes me sad about them: [copypastes the entire above paragraph]

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: most wally/home fic is either pure crackfic or fic in which home gets hit hard with the ron the death eater treatment. like jesus, he's already pretty morally ambiguous in canon by just Standing There, you don't need to make him an actual rapist to establish that his and wally's relationship isn't exactly ideal.

Things I look for in fanfic: i don't look for it because i've pretty much given up on it being there at all, but i hope more folks write some actual character study-adjacent stuff about them some day!

My kinks: i do have actual answers to this but no way am i stating them here. again, i have a separate blog for that.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: LITERALLY ANYONE ELSE.

My happily ever after for them: you know that's not gonna happen.

[batsplat]

I don’t know if this is a crossover that makes sense but I saw that you like doctor who and MotoGP which are two things I enjoy a lot so if you had to a-sign Valentino, Marc, Casey, Jorge, and Dani as a doctor which doctor would each of them be (the one most like them) and would there be crossovers for who’s who.

ontologically fascinating ask in that the premise supposes all the aliens are essentially variations upon the same guy. and given I do indeed am a known doctor who enjoyer, I will absolutely have a crack at this. obviously some of the aliens will inevitably have more of a doctor-ish vibe than others, which made some of these trickier than others. but this kind of exercise is fun in that it forces you to think of like... the key, non-negotiable character traits you associate with each guy. so here goes

dani: struggled most with this one. I initially thought maybe third doctor - some kind of homage to the samurai styling and three's martial arts thing. idk I could picture dani dropkicking an alien. (literal, not motogp alien... although maybe?) though mainly this pick is about the UNIT team environment. you've got this loner vibe, right, paired with this sense of superiority over some of those you're working with: maybe you've been exiled to earth and have to spend time with a bunch of humans or maybe you have to share a garage with a teammate when you'd really rather not. it's about capturing the energy of early premier class dani who flirts with the line between being kinda shy and awkward versus being a bit of an arrogant prick. the contemptuous vibe the doctor brings to the table... he knows how good he is! boy wonder dani surrounded by people convinced he's going to be the next big thing. a lot of the time three just wants to be left alone to do his work... three's the most grounded doctor (no pun intended) and between the pragmatism and the haughtiness, there is an appeal to this pick

but a different alien is more suited to the third doctor in terms of actual personality, so... for dani, we'll keep the trappings of three, but maybe in terms of actual personality veer a tad closer to nine. very much a big-hearted incarnation of the doctor despite having been thoroughly beaten down by the universe. regret, frustration, a reckoning of sorts with his own ineffectuality... nine's arc of coming to terms with his failure to save others, versus dani's arc of coming to terms with not achieving what people expected him to. nine is a transitional doctor, one who's all about finding himself in the aftermath of loss + tragedy - it's a journey that's very much about finding some measure of peace. reckoning with how painful and unfair the world can be, finding meaning within it anyway. nine's also committed to his worldview, his sense of morality... he's rigid at times, inflexible - though he's sometimes successfully challenged to reassess his beliefs. embraces a little more nuance by the end of his tenure while still never wavering from certain core values... the world might reward cruelty, might be unfair, but nine can choose to fight anyway. commitment to the struggle, even if it's ultimately futile! I'm still not wholly convinced by how good a fit this is because nine's outwardly manic persona is key to his characterisation, but. well. maybe you'd go three's life circumstances with nine's soul (?) with one's gruff exterior. having to make a choice, I'd go nine

jorge: this one's a straight contest between two doctors for me. my first thought was six - you know, the one with the whacky clothes. on a meta level, there is something to how the doctor who showrunners really ramped up the quirkiness to the max with this version of the doctor without figuring out why that had worked with past incarnations. one of my fave things about jorge is that whole process he had to try to figure out his 'character', attempting to construct a persona in this deliberate, self-serious way with constant reference to valentino, reflecting upon everything he did to the point of omphaloskepsis. and six at the start of his tenure was also a bit of an... unfinished product, rough around the edges - just too abrasive a personality to work in this particular show. also one of the most outwardly arrogant incarnations! six is always A Lot, with this flamboyance and passion that just suits theatre-kid-at-heart jorge. and six does calm down, stops trying to be so edgy... idk, to me just a little reminiscent of jorge's evolution. stopped trying to come up with a 'character' that rivals valentino's - which does work rather nicely as a meta-textual parallel with that particular era of doctor who. six might have been stubborn, poorly socialised, sometimes a handful to deal with... but also someone who softened some of the rough edges. it's taken some time, but he's won a lot of fans over. eventually

all that being said, I'm leaning towards the other option here - and bring back three, a better fit for jorge than he is for dani. a lot of the stuff about the working environment applies here too, of course... like, you've got an alien who's being made to work a nine to five job surrounded by actual human beings; the interpersonal interactions tend to be a bit hit-and-miss. three's self-seriousness, his pompousness really work here... his tendency to pontificate, I see the vision for jorge. and - let's not forget - three's run was very much defined by his relationship with the master, who got to actually be a very regular antagonist in that era. that particular dynamic has taken some radically different forms over the years... but the third doctor, for all of his antagonism with the master, brought a certain 'only bitch in this house I respect' vibe to the table. jorge would get obsessed with his old academic rival who keeps showing up to bother him/commit mass murder. after the master's first appearance/mass murder spree, the doctor can barely contain his enthusiasm at the thought of fighting the master again soon. that's jorge, if he were a time travelling alien. going three

casey: right, casey's getting the old soul treatment. the first doctor fits that brief and is also the most irascible incarnation, back in the earliest days of the character when they just wrote him as kinda a dick for a while. do I think casey would abduct two school teachers just because they poked around where they wren't supposed to and pissed him off? well, yes. that sounds like a casey thing to do. the first doctor is stubborn, moody, frequently dismissive of those who aren't as brilliant as him. doesn't trust easily. blunt, pragmatic, sceptical of authority. a bit of a loner. and given he's the first incarnation, he's also the version going through the most culture shock!! not always easy, is it, when you're constantly surrounded by all these [humans/europeans] who baffle you. the first doctor did get to mature a bit, got to have some fun and lean into his natural inclination towards mischief... a piece of work whose heart is mostly in the right place, even if he doesn't always show it particularly well

another option for casey is twelve, another a pick that does kinda work on a meta level. twelve follows on from some massively popular incarnations, keeps dropping all-timer performances that don't always get the appreciation they deserve from the casual fan. the real ones know how goated he is. twelve starts out REALLY surly, not exactly the most outwardly empathetic doctor - let's just say his bedside manner could use a little bit of tweaking. at the same time, twelve's very preoccupied with questions of morality... he has a tendency to be incredibly harsh to those he doesn't feel live up to his standards - ones which at times feel a touch arbitrary, even hypocritical. also very harsh towards himself!! twelve goes in heavy on the self-loathing, pairing an ironclad confidence in his own abilities with plenty of doubts and insecurities. casey's all about confidence - both in the positive sense that he's got a lot of it and knows he can always rely on his obscene levels of talent, but also in the negative sense that he's constantly terrified of letting everyone else down and can have his self-belief shaken under the right circumstances. possibly setting off a streak of crashes. twelve's another quite rigid sort at the start of his tenure, very capable of lashing out at anything in range, though he does chill out a bit. and he's a very kind version of the doctor, principled, got a dry sense of humour... one of the more misunderstood incarnations and still somewhat underappreciated. this is already a good fit to me! but I'd also throw in a wild card tenth doctor in there, for that tendency to think he's always in the right and a reluctance to admit to certain shortcomings - he's just a little less reflective and honest with himself than twelve. a Proper Grudge Holder who went to the resent and remember class of conflict non-resolution. his rather remarkable capacity for self-delusion doesn't hurt with the parallels either. ten's admittedly a bit too happy-go-lucky for casey's whole deal... primarily I'd still say twelve

marc: went the other way from casey with this one and considered the doctors with younger appearances. five would be an interesting pick - an incarnation that really embraced having a young face, who felt like some of his previous incarnations had been trying way too hard to appear old and mature. there's a vibrancy and charm to five that suits marc I feel, cheerful and a tad naive (to the point of being somewhat childish) and wanting to really engage with the universe... he wants to live life to the fullest, wants to have fun out there, rejects cynicism. and for his troubles, five absolutely gets put through the wringer. this is a man acquainted with TRAUMA. full time companions really don't die very often in this show, but one of the defining fifth doctor stories features just that. as he continues getting blows dealt by the universe, he becomes more guarded, wearier, cautious of trusting others. but also... idk, five is a bit too spineless I reckon, lets himself pushed around too much, is too easy to manipulate and too docile in the face of authority - that's not marc

my actual pick is eleven (for meta-narrative points, he follows the incarnation who is seen by many as the archetypal doctor). marc's got this interesting career arc where - because of the age profiles of his competitors and the gap left by the injury years - he's gone from always being the baby to being the old man... with seemingly little time spent in between. eleven's very much all about being an old soul in a young body and is one of the incarnations that best manages to capture that energy - for all the outward exuberance, the mania, this is someone who has seen a lot and hurt a lot and carries that burden with him. eleven has a steeliness to him that works for marc, a cheerful facade that covers a real ruthlessness. a lot of emphasis during eleven's tenure is placed on how much the doctor lies, just constantly deceiving and playing his games and... well! marc! with eleven you do lean into the secrecy and mystique of it all - he's just quite a slippery guy where he does obviously care, where there's a select group of people he loves with all his heart, but he's also plenty capricious and arrogant and is willing to withhold vital information if he thinks he knows best. all about the contrast between the cheery exterior and darker, cunning interior. very marc. eleven

valentino: tough. tough! you can legitimately go at least 4-5 different directions here. a lot of the marc + eleven stuff applies here, though marc fits eleven's coldness a little better I reckon. you can copy and paste everything I said about ten in the casey section here too - they're all traits valentino and casey are aligned on, maybe go even more all in on ten's hubris for valentino. ten's outward demeanour does suit valentino better than casey, with the charm and the cheeriness and the manic energy and all that. and meta-narratively it doesn't hurt how crazy popular ten is, to the point where plenty of the more contrarian fans think he's overrated. he also just keeps coming back... refuses to fade into irrelevance! fans aren't allowed to forget about this bloke, however they feel about him. still, ten's not got quite enough of an edge, doesn't have the self-awareness he needs to lean into some of his nastier traits. another good shout is the second doctor, who kinda revolutionises the game by introducing the concept of regeneration into lore - and is also softer, gentler than his previous incarnation, a bit more capable of communicating with others and performing empathy and all that stuff. and is playful!! might pretend to be the fool to catch others off guard, but is constantly plotting and scheming and has a tendency to be more control of the situation than anyone thinks. it's that element of trickery and mischief that makes me like two as a pick... though, idk, I reckon he's a bit too nice to quite work

on the other end of the spectrum is seven, who was my initial impulse actually. seven is the manipulator, the doctor most willing to coldly maneuver enemies and allies alike to suit his purposes, very secretive... this is the real arsehole doctor. which, y'know, does suit valentino. plus, he's got this paternalistic energy, especially towards his companion ace - this is an era where the doctor/companion relationship is most oriented around the doctor being a teacher. where the seven pick falls apart for me is that there's a real contrast between his early playful personality and then his later manipulative, darker turn. these two sides of him feel in opposition to each other in a way that feels distinctly un-valentino, like with him it's all part of the same package y'know. seven is also a bit too cold and detached... valentino is more emotional, more passionate than that. and seven is a bit too obviously manipulative, that's the number one thing he's known for - you need someone more charismatic and popular than that I reckon. which brings us to four, the most popular incarnation of the character from the classic era who also got some of the highest quality writing, continues to be iconic however much time passes. four is this bohemian weirdo, eccentric but also charming... like the second doctor, he tries to catch others off guard, and he's big on joking around to do just that. he's also moody, at times mercurial, capricious... harsher than he initially seems, with quite a temper. he's also a bit too dispassionate to 100% fit valentino, but still the closest option - so four

in conclusion: loved answering this ask, really made me think lol. I did try to come up with a unique pick for each rather than honing in on the crossovers - though there's still a few doctors I've mentioned for multiple aliens. and also a few more I could probably make a case for, like seven and jorge or twelve and valentino or nine and casey... but you have to cut yourself off somewhere. this did made me realise the key similarity between the doctor as a character and the aliens as a group is the massive ego - partially justified by actual brilliance but still insufferable. I mean, there's also some crucial differences, like how the doctor is a selfless hero who goes around saving planets while the aliens are egocentric tax evasion-inclined athletes who mainly just care about winning motorcycle races. but apart from that, there's a decent amount of common ground yeah

[jxsterr]

bro your account is literally perfect. one of the best zelink ones i’ve ever seen and i think your interpretation of them is perfect!! what’s your opinion on t4t zelink?

YOURE SO SWEET WHAT THE HELL 😭😭😭😭 thank you omg that’s the sweetest ask ive ever gotten

as for opinions?? my opinion is yes. why wouldn’t they. it’s the most delicious hc out there and it does wonders at weeding out the weird fans

i haven’t honestly thought about it much because i enjoy it in passing but i’m definitely for ftm link with his funky new zonai post transition scars bc that’s SICK and he deserves at least one scar that isn’t the worst thing ever. zelda?? honest to god with all of the trauma she’s been through and all of the disconnect within herself i’d say like a nonbinary she/her if ygm?? an occasional she/they if she feels like it?? like the pronouns are just the equivalent of cosplaying a girl bc zelda’s been jumbled up so violently from everything that’s happened to her—from everything pre calamity with her father and her powers, her lack of self identity because she wasn’t allowed to present herself how she pleased when everything rested on her shoulders, trying to find herself Post calamity and figure out what she’s meant to do or even Be now that her one true purpose had been completed, and then the whole thing of being turned into a DRAGON and back—you cannot tell me she isn’t like scrambled egg on the inside.

link feels like the kinda guy to be like “idk i had tits and now i don’t” shrug whereas zelda has this 5 paged essay on everything that lead up to her identity LMFAO

because she’s so interesting to me right. i feel like she’d just kinda leave herself alone bc she’s been through enough without anything else on top, but i feel if she was to get anything done it’d just be top surgery so she could feel more In Control of her appearance?? and that’d be it?? bc dresses with boobs would have her a little :/ because they’re Okay she supposes but the dress Could look nicer without them, so link would sit there and help her bandage them down to see how she’d feel about it (also because he has an ungodly supply of bandages) and then watching something Click inside of her and who better to do such a task than purah???

(link stresses about it for the next 3-5 business days)

cuz i’m still big on zelda wearing a lot more neutral clothing purely bc we saw that her preferred way of dressing was her travel clothes right, and she’s always seemed more of a trousers gal than anything, so i can’t get into the idea of her purely wearing dresses post calam and totk like some people have bc every dress she’s worn. right. has had an air of Ambiguity around it. i think especially her prayer dress and zonai dress but i think that’s because of the total absence of straps or sleeves to them, so i feel like she’d wear dresses like that just for comfort but for any others?? boobs gotta go im sorry it’s just how it is

i’m also a huge fan of link being the more like. Seasoned of the two about transitioning and whatnot because obviously he would’ve had a lot more room to explore this sort of thing (esp with how little she could do w rhoam lord have mercy). so every question she’d have she’d go running to him for once instead of the books and Then him

“pardon me if i’m being intrusive, but was the surgery.. painful?”

“nah. not too bad. purah numbed me”

“you let.. purah..????”

she’d be stood in front of a mirror in their house and squinting at her own reflection, asking, “something feels wrong. i can’t tell what it is, but something feels misplaced on me.” and link peers over to have a look and he’s absolutely mystified because she’s literally gorgeous there isn’t a damn thing wrong with her—and then she starts focusing on her chest, looking at it from the side, squishing it down with scrutinising eyes to see if they’d look better flat and ah. it makes sense now. so, as i said earlier, he helps her bind, makes sure it isn’t too tight and always keeps an eye on how long she’s been wearing it (she is horribly forgetful after all), lets her comb through his ridiculously extensive wardrobe to see what pieces fit where and how to figure out how she wants her clothes to fit, then taking her down to sayge to retailor some old clothes he doesn’t mind her having once they figure it out, helping her figure out the terms and pronouns she’s comfortable with, just the most useful and best supporter you could ever ask for in the beginning of your transition.

I REALISE IVE RAMBLED OOPS but hey maybe when i get through the ridiculous backlog of fics i have i’ll do a little oneshot about this cuz it’s CUTE and so full of zelink potential

tldr. zelda’s this fuckin. she/they ass nb with a complex relationship with gender and her presentation and then link is just. a Guy. in the least straight way possible. he’s simple

i appreciate u sm for making me think about this more……: my little blorbos…

[floralembarrassment]

Hi! I love your fics so much they always make my day better <3

I was just wondering if you could write an angsty/Sad Rosekiller fic? Idk why I'm just in the mood to feel pain and i love your writing so yeah :)

Hi you very kind human! I'm glad you find some joy here! What's fun request that made me hurt my own feelings so I hope it hits your pain fancy - as always requests and asks are the best! with love

Burning Desire (1/3) (rosekiller)

The thing with Evan and Barty is that everyone knew they were supposed to be together except them. They were both too stubborn, a bit too dim, and honestly too desperate for one another that neither of them had a clue the other had been pinning for years.

But how was Evan supposed to know? Barty was out flirting with everyone. He was with a different girl to in Hogsmead each weekend, and dancing with a different Slytherin boy every other, and kissing his friends just for fun. When Evan figured out he was ace he nearly threw in the towel, except his heart couldn't let go.

When Evan had both worked up the courage and had had enough, he wrote everything he wanted to tell Barty, planning to burn the note before he spoke to him in person. But as he wrote his heart out he realized that losing his friendship with Barty was actually worse than not telling him about this stupid little crush. Evan crumbled up the note and decided he once and for all needed to get over himself.

Evan went to grab his wand he had thrown on the bed as Barty walked into the dorm. He jumped and quickly set the parchment on fire, and Barty looked at him with a quizzical smirk.

"What are you hiding Rosier? Starting a diary like Regulus are we?" He chided.

In that moment Evan was hurt, especially because he had just decided that he would never be enough for Barty and at least being his friend, being able to be near him would have to be enough. And while he wasn't writing a diary, he did push his emotions down like Regulus and lash out instead.

"How about you mind your fucking business Crouch. You clearly wouldn't know a thing about privacy, seeing as you were basically practicing to be an exhibitionist in the common room with that 7th year," Evan sneered. It was meaner than their usual banter, and Evan knew Barty heard the nastiness in the tone.

Barty threw him a stinging hex, but Evan blocked it with ease: "oh screw off, you're just jealous because you haven't done so much as hold hands with someone since 4th year." Barty hit back.

"Jealous? You think I'm jealous? I don't want anyone you've been with," Evan scoffed, his cheeks flushed, betraying him though. He wasn't jealous about what sexual things Barty did, but he was jealous of those who held him closer...

What Evan didn't know was that Barty was only trying to get over his long lust for Evan. Evan never once reciprocated his flirtations, even when he was crudely foreword. How was Barty supposed to know why Evan was really jealous. Barty wanted to offer to help Evan find someone, but he never could bring himself to it, always thankful that Evan would decline because Barty wasn't sure he could handle seeing Evan with anyone else.

"Well clearly you are hiding something," is all Barty ended up replying. "I'll just forget it okay?" He finished and Evan sighed, just looking down at his shoes.

Barty stepped forward, reaching out like he normally would to pull Evan into a hug, but Evan jolted back. Barty looked at him surprised, they always hugged to make up after they snapped at it each other.

"I... I gotta go," Evan said and he nearly ran out of the room.

Barty stood for a moment confused and concerned. Clearly something was going on with Evan. He moved to his desk to fix it up and see if his herbology homework needed to be done, maybe help cheer him up. But he noticed that the first page of the homework was missing and the second page was singed. Did Evan burn his homework? Barty thought, but then he looked around him and saw the crumpled up piece of paper that must be the first page. When Barty picked it up though, he froze.