#and my parents are not angry at their parent's parent's parent's

[brigitoshaughnessy]

I am literally going to answer all of these? I have no secrets.

1. what's the best advice you've ever been given?

Don’t think about which option you should choose today. Think about what regrets you’ll have in the future based on each choice.

2. what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

Spiraling anxiety

3. what is your favorite way to self care?

Sitting in a dark, quiet room by myself OR taking a vacation by myself.

4. tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

Ehh, I don’t know that any are more vivid. I tend to live more in the present and for the future than in the past. I don’t like to dwell, probably because most of my vivid memories are traumatic. I.e., my parents deaths, my fiancées death, my brothers death… etc.

5. if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

I would have spent more time drawing.

6. what is something that you've always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

Sky diving

7. what is your fatal flaw?

Overthinking to the point of self-defeatism. Think of Marvin in Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy.

8. what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn't?

Criticism

9. do you cry? why or why not?

Yes. When I disappoint those close to me.

10. tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

I am a non-technical person in a technical job. I’m faking it, but no one knows.

11. tell me about your last failed friendship.

My husband (no filter) told a friend of mine that I thought he was neglecting his dog. My friend was livid that I hadn’t told him directly.

12. who do you wish you could connect with but haven't been able to connect with?

My last surviving immediate family member. We have never clicked.

13. what can make you excessively angry?

Injustice & memes that over simplify complex issues & the plebs that make the memes their life’s philosophy.

14. do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

No. I’m very sensitive to criticism and having attention drawn to me. I get embarrassed very easily.

15. do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? Why?

Numb. Excessive emotion has been negative emotion in my life experience.

16. what is a skill or talent you've completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

Guitar. I picked up writing fanfic again. Im a serial hobbyist.

17. what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

Purple… and I no longer have one.

18. what is something you can't bring yourself to get rid of?

My parents wedding rings.

19. tell me something you don't like telling the people you are close to.

That they could do better at something. I manage for work so it’s difficult to feel that I’m a manager of people personally.

20. tell me what you think others think about you.

Probably that I’m a know it all who thinks she’s too clever. But hopefully, also that I care about people, and can set aside my premonitions to be present when someone needs me.

Reblog with your answers (or just one or two) if you care to share. I love learning about all of you. :)

deep asks that get uncomfortably personal

what’s the best advice you’ve ever been given?

what is your preferred method of non-physical self destruction?

what is your favorite way to self care?

tell me about your most vivid memory, good or bad.

if anything, what would you change about your childhood?

what is something that you’ve always wanted to do but have never been able to do?

what is your fatal flaw?

what is something that gets to you that you wish wouldn’t?

do you cry? why or why not?

tell me about an insecurity you overcame.

tell me about your last failed friendship.

who do you wish you could connect with but haven’t been able to connect with?

what can make you excessively angry?

do you enjoy being lightheartedly teased? why or why not?

do you prefer to be numb or overly emotional? why?

what is a skill or talent you’ve completely lost or overlooked? why did that happen?

what was your favorite color as a child and what is your favorite color now?

what is something you can’t bring yourself to get rid of?

tell me something you don’t like telling the people you are close to.

tell me what you think others think about you.

[autisticfaun420]

Autism and Fecal Smearing

I want to get this out of the way first so I'm just gonna say it, I struggle with this awful habit which is called diaper digging and fecal smearing, this post (and blog for that matter) I don't want to shy away from talking about this stuff. So yeah if I have a bowel accident, am frustrated/overstimulated/angry/sad, and am left alone for a few minutes I tend to do this. It's not as bad as before because I have preventative measures in place, like special onesies that make it so I can't remove my diaper myself (ughhh whatever...) and crunchy scented textured slime that my mom will add even more scent to just to make it overwhelming. The average number of episodes has been greatly reduced but I had one a couple weeks ago when my onesies were in the watch so the topic is fresh on my mind.

A lot of caregivers and autism parents are mystified and baffled by this habit and wonder why we do it. I can't speak for everyone, only myself, but to me personally the scent and texture of feces is so overwhelming and strong that I get a "high" from it. I take cannabis edibles daily and my parents let me get drunk once a month so I'll say its very comparable. I get a rush from it. My life can be so monotonous sometimes that smearing crap feels like getting away with a bank robbery, I go from extremely angry to feeling before then to like a happy giddy kid without a care in the world. I zone out so hard that I end up smearing it all over my face, walls, floor, and if it gets in my mouth I'm usually too far gone to care. I do not do it because I'm mad at my parents, I do not do it because I want to get back at them for something, I simply do it because my need for sensory input is so strong and when I'm about to go into a potentially violent meltdown I reach for the sensory nuke when my normal things to stim with just won't cut it. No high is complete without the crash and there's a crash. Seeing my parents and one of my unlucky friends SOOOOOOO unreasonably mad, it's terrifying. My parents got used to it and eventually just shrugged it off but I have heard them lose their cool over it several times and have heard my name and every cuss word in the book the room over where they clean. Not nice of them but I do not blame them one bit but the feeling inside hearing that is very real for me. I guess they got too good at shrugging it off. I had an incident where I smeared in the bathroom of one of my high school friends, very chill guy, look at me and scream at the top of my lungs, and punched a hole in the wall in the living room. I didn't know the painting he had in his bathroom was that rare but I ruined it completely and that's why he reacted that way. He could of done better but I do not blame him one bit. After that though seeing a side of that friend that I never seen before scared me into wearing the stupid onesie suit every day without fuss or a fight when before I would. Not only the suit but I have the replacement slime on me at all times, if I have a BM I tend to just pull it out and play with it. This doubles up as subtly letting my parents know I need a change, which I like cause I don't have to ask verbally which can feel kinda degrading sometimes. There is one good thing that has happened with this though. My hippie parents looked at my turd stained walls and thought I had some latent artistic talent and needed self expression and bought me art and painting supplies. They were misguided, it didn't prevent any incidents but I still took the art well. My therapist at the time had some art connections and the art I made was featured in what's known as an "outsider art" gallery. I sold a few pieces for 300-600 each. It's just a little bit bitter sweet cause if you've seen the King of the Hill episode about the Probots or just know a bit about outsider art in general, you'd know the way they market it is kind of, problematic to say the least. The gallery's artist profile for me made me out to be some kind of idiot dunce and made my parents look like heroic geniuses for spotting this talent or some shit and it's embarrassing that my artwork sold most likely cause of that over the strength of the art. Like oh wow look at this stupid R word who plays with poop his cool parents are soo smart, ughhhh. However I guess that's just the art game and I'm super proud of myself I made a couple thousand dollars of MY OWN money, it meant the world to me to have it. I'm not allowed to post my artwork on here and I wish I could share it with you on MY terms and not the gallery's but my parents are worried it could come back to my identity.

I want to end this post by saying if you engage in fecal smearing you are not stupid, broken, or filthy. You are a human being desperate for relief and you took the fastest way to get it. Shout out to all my autistic homies who smear or have smeared, I see you and you are loved.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ woman of my dreams, don't betray me.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you and ambessa are wives, and your parents have come to visit the two of you. everything will be fine, or would've been if you mother hadn't brought up her desire for grandchildren.

cw: angst, angst with a happy ending, wife!ambessa, wife!reader, age difference, older woman/younger woman, sfw but suggestive content, emotional hurt/comfort, you're a little bit of a crybaby, anxiety attacks, discussions of children and pregnancy.

notes: i hate this so much, but ce la vie hmm? this is a drabble.

“Sweet girl, don't bite your nails. You'll be so upset later.”

“You'll just give me the money to get them done,” you mutter. 

Still, your hands lower from your mouth to tremble yet again over the dinner you've painstakingly made.

Ambessa moves behind you, her presence steady and warm against your back. Her hands settle on your shoulders, thumbs working small circles into the knots that have been building there all day. You lean into her touch despite yourself, despite the anxiety that makes you want to vibrate out of your skin.

“Will this occur before or after you protest against me giving you too much?”

A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and you turn to slide your arms around her neck. You take in the strong line of her jaw, the crooked set of her lips with it’s thin stripe of golden jewlery in the middle. You thumb at it, face flushing slightly as she nips at the tip of your finger.

“My nails have yet to cost five hundred dollars, Bessa.”

“I include the tip.”

“I must be incredibly generous.”

“You are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Besides, you never think of tax.”

“Tax?” You say in disbelief. “What tax would they be adding that costs that much? Honestly, Bessa.”

“You never know,” she says with a slow smile. “They could swindle you very easily. You have such a trusting nature.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell her, cupping her face.

"Talk to me," she says, and her voice carries that gentle authority that first drew you to her. You turn away, your attempts at misleading her thwarted. "Is it your mother again?”

You stiffen under her hands. "Among other things." The roast in front of you blurs slightly. 

You can picture her expression without turning around - that careful neutrality she wears when she's processing something that angers her. It's the same look she gets in meetings when someone has said something particularly stupid.

"And what did you say to her?"

"Nothing. I deleted it. I’ve never been any good at convincing her to leave me alone." You pull away from her hands to adjust a perfectly arranged plate for the third time. "It's easier than explaining. Than having the same argument over and over about how I'll change my mind, how I just haven't met the right person yet." You pause, throat tight. "As if you're not..."

"As if I'm not what?" There's an edge to her voice now, not angry but intent. When you don't answer, she gently turns you to face her. "Look at me, little dove."

You do, though it hurts. She's beautiful in the warm kitchen light, silver hair gleaming, dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that still makes your heart skip even after all this time. You see the question in them and can't bear to answer it.

"The table still needs-"

"The table is perfect. You're being avoidant."

A laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical. "Isn't that what I do best?"

"No." Her hand cups your cheek. You can smell her: blonde wood, vetiver, pink pepper, dry vanilla. "What you do best is love fiercely and completely. And we agreed that that meant being honest with one another.”

She titls your head up, presses a thumb against your pulse. The action makes you almost confess the words that crowd your throat, threatening to spill out:

I'm terrified you'll realize I can't give you the family you deserve. That one day you'll look at me and see all the things I'm not, all the things I can't be. That you'll regret choosing someone so much younger, so much less certain of their place in the world. That my mother is right and I'm being selfish, denying you something fundamental.

But before you can voice any of it, the doorbell rings. Your whole body goes rigid. Your hands come to your sides and you’re back to shaking, neck burning with sudden stress. 

“I’ll get the door,” you say.

Your voice is rasping, as if you’ve swallowed down endless snakes of smoke.

‧₊˚ ⋅  𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 

Dinner is excruciating. Your mother talks about your cousin's new baby, about how wonderful motherhood looks on her, about how she's "simply glowing." You push food around your plate and feel Ambessa's concerned glances, even as she masterfully deflects conversation toward politics, toward her work, toward anything else. But with each deflection, you can feel her growing more tense beside you - the way she sets her wine glass down with just a fraction more force, how her knife scrapes against the china with military precision.

"But really," your mother says, wine glass tilting dangerously in her hand, "I just don't understand why you two haven't started trying yet. Ambessa, dear, you mus

t want more children? And you're not getting any younger-"

The fork clatters from your hand. "Mother."

You can feel your body pulsing with that sick warmth that comes with the rush of tears. You’re boring a hole through the dining room table with your gaze, eyes growing large and wet. If you were a lamb, you’d be bleating except your mother is the wolf so who will be the one to save you? 

Beside you, Ambessa goes perfectly, terrifyingly still. The kind of stillness that precedes a storm, that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. You can see her hand flat against the table, the metal of her rings catching the light, and you know without looking that her face has taken on that marble-smooth expression that makes junior officers quake in their boots.

"I'm only giving you something to think about, my love. I’ve been you before. You think you have so much time, you know? It’s just—you've always been so good with kids, sweetheart. Remember how you used to babysit for the Hendersons? And Ambessa's children turned out so well-"

"Stop." Your voice comes out strangled. "Please."

Ambessa's hand sneaks under the table to grasp your thigh. The touch is slightly grounding but you can feel the tremor in her fingers - not from fear, but from restraint. You know she wants you to look at her, but then you'll really begin to lose it. You'll spill over, right into her lap, because she always could unlatch your body in ways you thought were only for other people.

You catch the slight movement of her jaw, the way she swallows whatever cutting remark she wants to make. Because this is your mother, and Ambessa—for all her power, all her authority, because of the love—is letting you handle this your way. But the tension in her body screams of fury, of a woman forced to watch her beloved take wounds she can't deflect.

"I don't see why you're being so sensitive about this. It's a natural progression-"

"Natural?" You're standing now, though you don't remember deciding to. "Natural is me not wanting to vomit every time someone mentions me being pregnant. Natural is not having a panic attack every time you send me another fertility clinic link or baby clothes or-" Your voice breaks. "I can't. I can't do this."

You flee, ignoring your mother's startled "Well!" and your father's awkward attempt to change the subject. You're halfway up the stairs before the tears start properly, and by the time you reach your bedroom, you can barely see. The door locks behind you with a satisfying click.

You stumble to the vanity, clutch blindingly at your hair to yank out the pins. You feel out of control, your hands sliding up your neck and over your face. A sob slips out despite you clutching your fingers over your mouth, and you press at your stomach until you feel the urge to dispel the mixture of your decayed dinner and acid that sits within it.

The bed. You need to be under the bed. It's childish and ridiculous but it's where you used to hide when things got too much, and right now everything is too much. You curl up in the darkness there, pressed against the wall, and try to remember how to breathe.

Time passes. You hear murmured voices downstairs, the front door opening and closing. Footsteps on the stairs - Ambessa's, you'd know them anywhere.

"Little dove?" A gentle knock. "Let me in?"

"It's unlocked," you manage, voice thick.

The door opens. A pause.

"Are you under the bed?"

"...yeah."

Another pause. Then, to your utter astonishment, you hear grunting and turn to find Ambessa - your tall, dignified, warrior-queen wife - attempting to squeeze herself under the bed frame.

"What are you doing?" you ask, hiccuping between tears and startled laughter.

"Coming to get you," she says, voice strained as she wriggles forward. "Though I'm beginning to think this bed was not built for someone of my size."

"You're going to get stuck."

"Then we'll be stuck together." She finally manages to get next to you, though she has to lie completely flat to fit. "Hello, sweet girl."

A rush of gratitude floods you and you press forward, drawing her into a soft kiss. She deepens it, sliding a large hand underneath your thigh and holding you to her. You part with a soft, slick noise. 

“You’re always meeting me where I am, even when you don’t understand,” you tell her. “Literally.” 

You gesture weakly at the whole predicament. The absurdity of it - Ambessa Medarda, covered in dust bunnies, cramped under a bed - breaks something in you. 

"I have this terrible secret inside me, and it’s that I feel so—so sick when I think about being a mother," you blurt out. The words slide out of you, like maggots from a rotting body. "Not—not your children, I love them, but being one myself. Having them. I can't. I won't. And I know you must want- but I can't, I just can't, please don't leave me.” You begin to sob again. “Please, Bessa. Please don’t leave me. Please. Plea-”

"Shh." She pulls you closer, awkward in the confined space but no less tender for it. You tuck your head into her neck as she soothes you. "Shh, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

"But-"

"I have two children," she says firmly. "Two wonderful, grown children who I love dearly. I have never once thought about having more. What I want - all I want - is you. Happy. Whole. Exactly as you are."

You're crying again, but differently now. "Really?"

"Really." She strokes your hair, rocking you as best she can in the tight space. "Though I would very much like to have this conversation somewhere with fewer dust bunnies."

You laugh wetly into her shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I would crawl under a thousand beds for you. Even into a grave." She kisses your forehead. "But perhaps we could move on top of this one? My back is not what it used to be."

"You’re really not getting any younger," you quip, the onslaught of relief making you giddy.

"Watch it, little dove." But she's smiling - you can hear it in her voice. "Now come out before we really do get stuck."

“What if we stayed here forever,” you whisper, “and you never let me go?”

She releases you, then shimmies out from the crawl space. Gently, she curls a hand around your ankle and pulls you out with a sharp yank. You gasp as you emerge from your hiding space, hair spilling around you and your dress rucked up just enough to display your panties.

Ambessa leans over, drags the dress further up until she can kiss the swell of your breasts. She looks up you, face ever-calculating.

“I will never release you,” she finally says. 

It should scare you, the clear promise, but it doesn’t. You lead her hand to your throat, just to hold it there, and smile instead.

© hcneymooners.

[civilizedthings]

So, as a parent, this is a place where you are required to make a judgement call based on more context than a small child can process. Does going home right now actually mean you have no food for the week, or does it just mean the inconvenience of going out again later? If there’s another adult there, can they stay outside with the kid while you do a quick shop or is it better to just throw in the towel and go home? Do you try saying, “hey, you really don’t want to go inside. Does it feel ok to wait here?” And seeing if waiting it out for ten minutes lets it pass? Or is this an essential thing and you tell the kid, “you really don’t want to go in. You want to go home. We need to go to the store right now, and we’ll get you home as soon as possible. I know it’s really hard right now.” Having all those options at hand and even sharing how you think through them is one of the ways you reach emotional regulation, rather than just asking kids to grit their teeth through it the same way every time. At five, my kid can now be part of this process and sometimes let us know what would help, like saying he doesn’t need to go home he just needs a minute.

Part of parenting is having more tools in your toolbox than just dragging a screaming child around. Sometimes, you will drag a screaming child around, it’s inevitable, but you can minimize it, both by how you interact with them and how you plan their lives. As a parent, I think it’s on me to minimize how much trouble my son can cause. If we have an hour to do something that should take ten minutes, him needing twenty to cool down is no big deal. If I have UHT milk and pasta in the cupboard, having to cut a shopping trip short is fine. That requires a lot of logistics! But in my experience, it’s one of the main ways I keep myself from getting angry with my kid for being a kid.

last time my mom visited I was talking to her about parenting and how I appreciated a lot of the choices she and my father had made about raising me and my brother and she agreed that just listening to the child and taking them seriously was the One Weird Trick to cutting out like 60% of conflicts between parents and children. and she said one time I was about three or four years old and we were all going to the grocery store, and at the threshold of the store I just had a meltdown. i was overwhelmed, I was crying, I was just at the end of my rope like kids get sometimes. and instead of dragging me through the store my mom and dad stopped what we were doing and just asked me what the problem was. and I was able to say I didn't want to be there, I couldn't do it, I wanted to go home. and she says she and my father just looked at each other and back at me and said "okay" and we all went home that day instead of forcing the grocery store trip. and I had so few public meltdowns as a kid despite being pretty autistic because, I think, I knew that if I ever really needed to leave, my parents would understand and back me up. and that was the case throughout my childhood. which paradoxically (one might think) resulted in me having fewer incidents of being overwhelmed in the first place, which then made me better able to handle increasing amounts of stress and so on. it also taught me that expressing feelings and communicating them to my caretakers wasn't going to be punished or ignored or called weird, so unlike many other autistic kids who get judged or rebuked for expressing sensitivity or opposition, I didn't need to constantly blockade everyone and internalize everything all the time.

it's a pretty simple concept whether your kids are autistic or not, but most parents don't seem to get it. their parents taught them to just force everything and let the child deal with it alone so they just repeat the cycle even though they know how it feels.

[weaselle]

i have a dog client (just one, starting a new business is hard) and she's a two-ish year old husky who was rescued only a couple months ago. I've been working with her for a couple weeks now and she just decided she could trust me yesterday. And i think the reasons why are interesting

So huskies can be sort of aloof, it's easy for a husky to decide they don't really care about you unless you are doing the exact thing that holds their attention. But it was more than that with this dog (she's named after a cheese, let's call her Gouda because she's [mario voice] a good-a dog) I think her experience in life thus far has been a bit traumatic

(this doesn't mean she was beaten or anything, everyone always jumps to that conclusion, but dogs are sensitive social creatures, and just being an orphan in a system that controls you so completely and never knowing who you can form a close bond with could be real trauma... i was given up at a young age by my own parents and it fucked me up pretty good even though i was adopted by my aunt, so i can only imagine what it might be like for a dog to be passed around for two years)

Anyway, she is very withdrawn (tho loving with her new family) and also tends to raise hackles and stiffen up when meeting dogs. For this reason i've been walking and running her alone because i walk some other dogs (not clients, it's part of my customer acquisition technique to be seen out with a pack of dogs) and a couple of those dogs are ... also not the friendliest. So i wanted to set her up for success by giving her time to get comfortable around me and the new activity before i introduced a possible stressful situation of other (grumpy) dogs.

At the meeting there was a growling and snapping situation and I had to use my Big Dog voice (just a big deep "hey" with my full diaphragm) and get between them and shut it down. Then they settled and we went on the walk, during which time there was an additional teeth and snarl moment from the other grumpy dog that i shut down immediately. The rest of the walk they were fine - during the second half i transitioned away from walking between the two, and ended with them walking next to each other close enough to bump and they did great.

Anyway, when i went to drop off Gouda at home, for the first time she really responded to my goodbye, licking my face and nuzzling my ear and bumping her head into my chest, whereas before she wouldn't even walk back over to me for goodbye petting once she was home.

I'm pretty sure it was the interactions with the other dog that did it. Specifically three things

A: for the first time she saw me defend her against another dog, so she knew she could count on me to back her up so she could relax

B: she saw that i was maintaining order and discipline and wouldn't allow dogs to be in altercations so she could relax

C: this is the more nebulous one but one i think is the most interesting: I believe the situation with the other dogs helped her to see me at a high level of disapproval, yet remain within behavior parameters that allow her to feel safe. In other words, she saw me in a situation where dogs were breaking the rules in a pretty big way - a semi fight situation where theoretically i would be at my most threatening or angry - and my response was not scary, i didn't get physical or punish or hold a grudge etc.

I think that last one really cemented it for her, because now Gouda knows if she gets something wrong and makes me "angry" it's going to be okay. So she can relax.

Taken all together, her experience yesterday was that i will defend her against other dogs, i can and will maintain order in the pack, and, importantly, even if she gets something really wrong or i'm in an "angry" situation, i'm safe to be around.

and now we're good friends.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Too Sweet For Me

Summary: Seventeen year old Y/N isn't thrilled when she finds out her father is somehow Soldier Boy and she's now meant to live with him...

Pairing: Soldier Boy x daughter!reader

Word Count: 1,400ish

Warnings: language, minor fight

A/N #1: I noticed I've never done a Soldier Boy x daughter fic and decided to remedy that! This was meant to be a very short fic but it spiraled a bit. Not sure if there's any interest in this going forward but I have ideas for where it could go if I were to continue...

A/N #2: This diverges just a tad from The Boys. For the purposes of this story, imagine that Soldier Boy killed Homelander at the end of S3 and is now running The Seven. The reader is seventeen for this story...

________

You swallowed as the man that was apparently your father strode around the corner. He was tall and broad, the green fabric of his uniform stretched taut over his strong muscular form. All you’d wanted for years was to find him, have your birth dad miraculously come take you out of foster care so you could stop the constant moves, the constant disappointment. 

At seventeen you knew better than to expect some instant connection. Mom hadn’t been shy about the fact he was an anonymous donor, even when you were little and asked who he was. You always figured he didn’t want you but after she died when you were eight, you hoped he’d show up somehow, like something out of Annie and you’d suddenly have a permanent family again.

Having Soldier Boy for a father wasn’t exactly filling you and the warm and fuzzies.

At least it explained the super strength when you hit puberty, a fact you’d kept hidden from everyone. Every foster parent, schoolmate, social services employee. You weren’t about to wind up in Red River and have your life destroyed before it even started.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted,” said Andrew, the brand new case worker assigned to you. You didn’t take you eyes off the man before you, green eyes watching you cautiously, as a door to the apartment in Vought tower closed behind you.

Soldier Boy’s gaze wandered lower, taking you in fully. Your fists clenched by your sides. You didn’t care what the news said about how he was the hero that took out Homelander. About how he was a war hero. About how somehow he got your mother pregnant after he supposedly died and that made no sense at all.

All you could think about was the gossip forums you scrolled through last year during your annual supe school project on him. Manipulative. Abuser. Sexist. Violent. Damn near sociopathic with how little he cared for the victims left in his wake. 

Finally his gaze met yours again, his mouth curling up in a smile when you clenched so hard the whites of your knuckles showed through your skin.

“No need to be afraid of me, Y/N,” he said politely, taking a few steps forward but giving you plenty of space. “I know you’re confused and I’ll explain but I am your father. I wouldn’t harm you.”

“Funny. Didn’t you kill your last child six months ago? Homelander? Instilling me with a lot of confidence.” His eyebrows raised, his smile flashing a bit of surprise. “I’m not some delicate flower, old man.”

“Yes, you are,” he said, stepping right in front of you, staring you down as you failed to fight back a thick swallow. He gently wrapped his hand around your wrist, your breath hitching when he gave it a squeeze. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Put your dick anywhere near me and I’ll rip it off.” His hand shot to your jaw, cradling it and forcing you to keep your head up, staring straight at his angry eyes. 

“You’re sick in the head if you think I’d ever touch you. You’re my child for fucks sake and you will learn to watch your mouth.” You kneed him in the groin, Soldier Boy’s whole body jerking as his hands shot to his midsection, doubled over in pain.

“Don’t you confuse the fact that I’m a good person with weakness,” you spat back. He recovered quickly despite you putting all your force behind the hit. Shit. Just how strong was he? You backed up straight into the apartment door, Soldier Boy crowding in on your space. A tremble ran through your body. He’d killed Homelander and his grandson had disappeared off the face of the planet and they hadn’t even done anything to him.

Soldier Boy leaned down, his face barely more than an inch away from your own, his hands splayed out on either side of your head. You kept his gaze though, something flickering in his green eyes for the briefest of moments.

“Who would have thought my teenage daughter had a bigger set of balls than that psycho of a son ever did.” You didn’t move, didn’t dare suck in a breath as he sized you over again. Suddenly he straightened, staring over your head at the wood behind you. “I’m your father whether you like it or not and you’re under my care until you’re 18. You’ll want for nothing.”

“Nothing but an actual father,” you mumbled, wincing when you realized he had super hearing and stifled at the response. After a long beat, he strode away over to a liquor cart, carelessly pouring a large glass of whiskey for himself. 

“Where’s my room?” you sighed, reaching to pick up your backpack and duffel from the foyer. 

“Second floor, second door on the right,” he said, getting to the duffel before you could take it. He held it out for you, taking a long sip, the only indication that it burned the small hiss of air he let out.

You got one hand on the strap when he didn’t release it, your eyes narrowing.

“I used to look at my father like that you know.”

“Let me make something clear,” you said, yanking the bag away, Soldier Boy allowing you to take it. “I don’t know what this is but I’m not going to fall head over heels for you just because you’re my dad. You have to earn that and if you’re not going to try, then stay out of my way.”

He smirked, leaning back against the bar cart with. “What a big little girl you are with your ultimatums. You think a temper tantrum is how to get what you want?”

“All I want is you to not hurt me and for you to be nice. It’s a low fucking bar and until you can clear it, it’s better if you leave me alone.” 

“You’re too sweet for me,” he said, throwing back the rest of his drink, pouring himself another. “A girl who writes a paper on how awful Soldier Boy is and how if he were a normal citizen would have been thrown in jail isn’t someone I would ever expect would give him a chance.”

You lifted your chin even as your heart rate picked up, Soldier Boy quickly by your side and leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“I’d expect a bit more ruthlessness from the girl that said I deserved the death penalty.” Your gaze fixated on the sleek wooden floors beneath you, his arm brushing yours. “It’s okay to admit you want a daddy, baby girl. I’m not a monster like you think.”

“It’s okay to admit you’re scared of being alone. Why else would you come and get me?” you said, his body tense beside you. You turned your head up, his gaze hard once more. You smiled. “I hit a nerve, old timer?”

“It’s cute that you think I give a shit about you.” You couldn’t hide the flash of pain on your face, his eyes narrowing. “Like I said, you’re too sweet. I can break you with just a few words.”

“Then why find me?” you asked as he shoved the whiskey in your hands and took the bags from them, storming off across the apartment for the stairs. “Why did you take me out of my foster home?”

“Because you’re mine whether I like it or not.” He looked over his shoulder. “And you will not fuck that up. Now drink that, calm the fuck down and get used to it or I’ll make sure you get tossed in Red River without a second thought.”

“Or you can just man the fuck up and say you’re scared because you’re alone and I’m all you got.” He stared you down, trying to intimidate you but you didn’t miss the way his eyes watered ever so slightly before he was gone around the corner.

You sighed, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. Okay, that could have gone worse. Much worse. While you weren’t exactly thrilled about how things had gone, at least you knew one thing. 

Somewhere deep, deep down, that man cared about you, only so he wouldn’t be lonely. You wouldn’t trust that it was anything more than that. Those days were long gone, especially when Soldier Boy of all people was your father. It was far too dangerous to trust whatever act he put on once he decided to start playing nice.

You took a long sip of the whiskey, the fiery liquid burning down your throat, making you cough violently. You swore you heard the asshole laughing all the way from the living room.

_______________

A/N: If you'd like to read more of this story, please let me know in a comment, reblog or ask!

[yuyusshinelight]

Dad thoughts feat ATEEZ: First Word

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️

♪ This post is about how I think they would be as parents; just that, some thoughts. This does NOT represent any of Ateez's members in any way.

♪ English is not my first language so sorry if there's any mistake.

Vocabulary just in case someone doesn't know:

Y/S/N — your son's name

Y/D/N — your daughter's name

Jagi — sweetheart, darling, etc...

Note: Hi my shining stars! First of all, happy new year! How has been your beginning of the year? I hope you all are fine🩷✨. Mine has been so-so, I'm sick but I'm getting better now. So, taking advantage of being better today, I'm here to bring you a new scenario for our boys being dads cause I know how much you like those parenting headcanons. I hope not, but if there are any errors or something that is poorly structured, please let me know. I hope you like it and enjoy your reading. Love you all, my shining stars!!!

SEONGHWA

✰ Obviously his little star's first word was 'Daddy'. Seonghwa had spent all her short life repeating it every time he could for her to learn it before any other thing. The poor idol came back home after a hard day at work, wanting more than ever in his married life to lie on the couch with you on one side and your little star resting in his chest. What a beautiful surprise his baby gave him when she appeared crawling towards him to welcome him while mumbling what Seonghwa could perfectly understand as "Daddy". According to what you told him, your little girl had spent the whole afternoon calling him, which made Seonghwa die of love for your daughter but at the same time sad that he had missed her very first word. Good thing you had recorded it.

HONGJOONG

✰ His son's first word was so comical but so inappropriate for a kid of his age. It happened one night in which Hongjoong was in charge of bathing your kid. The so excited baby was splashing all over the place, laughing at how awesome those waves of foam were and making his father laugh too for how cute the scene was. Everything was fun and laughs from both father and son until some foam reached one of Hongjoong's eyes. The male was not aware of that swear word he let out unconsciously until he heard his baby say "Fuck". Good luck you didn't hear it because Hongjoong was more than sure that you would have been angry with him for that.

YUNHO

✰ The first word of Yunho's first son was 'Spiderman', followed almost immediately by 'Daddy'. It was one of Yunho's free days so he obviously decided to spend it entirely with his family. He played with your baby in your bed for an hour, you all went for a walk in the park, he did household chores while you spent time playing with your kid and his didactic toys... Yunho even ended up taking a nap with your baby. And now, while you were giving your kid his bath, Yunho was playing a bit with his PlayStation. A little moment for himself that ended up being shared with your son while you went to prepare dinner because Yunho liked to have his baby near even if he was playing. And then, it happened. The moment Yunho accommodated your son in his lap, the baby pointed at the TV saying "Spidman". That made Yunho look at him with wide eyes, calling you to come quickly as soon as your son said again "Daddy, Spidman".

✰ And, even though he spent months teaching his daughter how to say 'Daddy' because he wanted to be her first word, Yunho was more than excited with the fact that his daughter's first word was 'Brother'. It was one of the cutest things Yuhno had ever heard in his life. His baby called her brother right after she heard the front door. She hadn't even seen him but she already knew that her big brother was the one coming home. He even cried when his daughter hugged his son to welcome him with the widest smile and cutest giggle he had ever seen from her.

YEOSANG

✰ His daughter's first word was 'Chicken'. Surprising to both parents, who couldn't stop laughing for how cute sounded the word in your daughter's voice, but being strangely expected after hearing Yeosang repeat several times to your daughter, "We are eating fried chicken today. Mommy is making delicious fried chicken". It was a special date for Yeosang and you and you wanted to gift him with a meal you knew he would love: Korean fried chicken. What neither of you expected was that your special day would be even more special because it would be the day in which your daughter would say her very first word. It discouraged you both a little bit because you wanted his first word to be something like 'Daddy' or 'Mommy' but you're not complaining either, it was very funny.

SAN

✰ Every time he remembers, the idol can't hold back the tears. He has the moment tattooed in his memory to relive it exactly as it happened whenever he wants. But how not to do it if his first daughter's first words were 'Love you'? San was playing with his daughter to tickle her on your bed when you appeared and gave each one of them a quick kiss. Just after you said 'I love you' your baby repeated you, making both San and you look at each other and almost cry of happiness before kissing your daughter a thousand times more.

✰ With his second daughter was equal as cute as with his first one but so funny too. As every night since your daughter got her own big-girl room, San was with your eldest daughter, telling her a bed story and giving her all the kisses and hugs she asked for before finally tuck her tightly so that his little kitten would not get cold while you were rocking the baby to put her to sleep. Just when he was sure his daughter was sleeping, San turned the little purple bed-side light on and exited his daughter's room, going to his second child's room now to give her a goodnight kiss. What a funny surprise she gave him when as soon as he peeked through the door, the baby blurted out that sleepy 'Sannie'.

✰ And, as it could not be otherwise, his third son's first words were so cute too. Yes, in plural. His eldest daughter was playing peekaboo with her young brother while the second child was sleeping on the couch in your arms. Both San and you were looking at the cute scene with wide smiles when your son threw his head back to look at his father. San, who was smiling even wider, said "What happens, baby? What does big sister do?" Then your son laughed with his hand on his mouth but, even with his tiny fist playing with his lower lip, you two heard that clearly 'Big sister' from the baby.

MINGI

✰ The Song twins had the same first word. Indeed, they said it almost at the same time, first his daughter and then his son. Mingi will always remember that day. He had come back home later from the studio last night so when he arrived home your kids were already sleeping. He couldn't hug and kiss his babies as he wanted because he didn't want to wake them up, obviously, so, after a soft kiss in their tiny heads, the sad dad went to sleep. The beautiful moment happened the next morning, when he woke up and went to pick up his children to give them their breakfast. His daughter let out that tiny 'Daddy' that his son repeated seconds before, not giving Mingi even a second to process what was happening before they started to repeat it more and more times.

WOOYOUNG

✰ His first son's said 'Jagi' as first word. Always hearing his parents say it to each other, it was more than obvious that the baby would learn it sooner or later. The story is that Wooyoung was doing his best to entertain your kid while you were taking a bath. Your baby was at that stage in which every child developed that strong need to be with their mother or father and your son only wanted to be with you. Fortunately, your son didn't burst into tears like many other times, so you could take a quiet but short shower because you didn't want to push your luck farther. If you had known... The moment your son saw you he went from laughing with his father to crying because he wanted to be with mommy. You couldn't do anything else than to go to hold him in your arms obviously "Come with mommy" and as soon as you took your kid in your arms he called you 'Jagi', leaving both Wooyoung and you speechless.

✰ His second one's first word was 'Mommy'. You were preparing breakfast while Wooyoung was playing with your still sleepy children in your bed. It's not like he didn't want to help you, it was more like his little babies had him captive between the comfortable and warm sheets of your bed, giving him a lot of good morning kisses to which Wooyoung could do nothing but give them their corresponding kisses. But then your eldest son tried to get out of the bed on his own, that was the perfect signal to get up so, holding his second child in one arm and giving the first one his free hand, Wooyoung went to the kitchen with both kids. That was when your youngest son called you, making you turn to look at them with wide eyes and a big bright smile on your face.

JONGHO

✰ The first word of Jongho's little bear was 'Mommy'. He was alone at home with your child, a boy's day as Jongho told you. And by the moment their boy's day had been fairly uneventful. The child had eaten well, he took a nap without problems, they had been playing a lot... Until now. It was your son's bath time but the child did not want to take a bath. Or rather, he didn't want daddy to bathe him. According to your theories, it was because you played with him while bathing him and Jongho bathed and got him out quickly. In other words, you were calling him boring. Good thing he had already caught his son after running after him all over the living room. What a surprise Jongho got the moment he heard that little "Mommy" from his son as he was taking him to bathe "Your mother will not like having missed your first word, buddy".

[alchemistdoctor]

Danny realizes, after two pints of ice cream and three NASA documentaries, that he's not actually upset, really, about the miscommunication. Because that's what it was, and once he set out his boundaries, they've been respectful. It turns out Kon is really great at giving cuddles without pressure, honestly.

And Elle comes over and they watch the fourth documentary, and he realizes he's actually upset because, well, they ARE nice, and he wants them to be happy, and is a little sad it can't be him. He sighs.

Elle sits bolt upright.

"I HAVE A PLAN" she shouts, and disappears.

Danny grumbles and burrows into the sofa.

~~~

"This is a terrible plan," Dan says, and Danny agrees, even as he watches his in-therapy-doing-community-service not-brother tolerate Elle using him as a jungle gym.

"No, listen! Batman needs some control over the situation, you need a parental figure who is able to give you an outlet without you going too far, and you get to meet RR and Kon!" Elle gushes. "It's perfect!"

"You can't just replace one of us with the other. It's a whole thing. I got souped about it. People died," Dan explains, looking vaguely amused instead of angry.

"Not asking you to replace. We're still their friends, and good luck getting rid of us, Kon and I are besties, we made bracelets," Elle says happily, showing hers off. "But it won't hurt you to have a friend you can tussle with, and RR will challenge your noggin to think through things instead of jump them."

Dan huffs. But Danny is starting to figure out how this just could work. Dan has mellowed with Elle around, having someone to care for. He will probably extend that to Kon, and then RR by extension because they're so close...

This might actually work.

~~~

"This was a terrible decision. You never should have met," Danny moans from the floor. Dan is outright cackling, while Tim pretends not to laugh and Kon floats over to poke at Danny's shoulder.

"C'mon, man. You introduce me to a version of you that can kick my ass even more, and likes scheming as much as Tim does, and you didn't see this coming?"

"Batman's gonna kill me," Danny realizes, and Tim snorts.

"Nah. They get along."

Danny rolls over, gives him a disbelieving look.

"I validate his need for contingency plans. And help sometimes," Dan says, shrugging. "I - have something now. I - he should be able to stop me."

"Huh," Danny says, because, well, he didn't see that coming, but Dan is still a kid, technically, and he guess it makes sense. Jazz is always talking about how kids should feel safe that their parents will be able to stop them before they do something truly terrible, and maybe that's Batman for Dan. "Good for you, man."

"And he helped Jason get off ghost booze," Elle adds, grinning. "Speaking of, there's some old man with a ghost booze fermentation pit somewhere in the middle east."

"What?"

"Yeah, he has my spleen," Tim says casually. "Asshole."

"What??"

Dan grins at him. "So anyway. Wanna help me shut an illegal hooch operation, your majesty?"

"WHAT??"

DPxDC prompt: Danny Phantom is an extremely high-level threat due to his capabilities and experience battling against his ghostly enemies. Batman is creating a contingency plan for him and Constantine's advice, as the one who dances the tango with the Infinite Realms? A bone-weary sigh of "plop him down a telly and put on a NASA documentary or something. It's like you haven't been dealing with teen kids for decades now fer fuck's sake."

[ninaslittlewickedplace]

I’ve been seeing some people talk (saw a comment somewhere by @feldspursfiyero ) about Fiyero’s behavior and choices, in particular how his depression and love for animals tie into one another and what his potential backstory is. I have a few things in mind that I’ll jot down here since I haven’t seen too many posts out there about Fiyero’s life before Wicked.

To start, it is obvious that Fiyero is a prince and the heir to the throne. From what we know in real life, being the Crown Prince was never an easy role. Though, I do find it interesting that Fiyero’s choice to act out is more along the lines of the behavior of a modern spare (Margaret, Harry etc) whose life feels directionless in the shadow of their older sibling’s glory. Historically and realistically, the heirs have been relatively good at containing their feelings and attitudes towards their position, but for Fiyero I think there are more layers to why he, the eldest child and the heir, has the personality traits that he has.

More under the cut because I don’t wanna clog the feed. This became longer than I thought 🙃

I do believe there was a time where Fiyero was able to be himself and allow himself to be loved and seen. Being a Prince, his life was dictated by strict protocol and rules by default, but there was once a time where he could breathe and let loose. That’s why he still has the innate ability to know and feel himself deep down, but events in his life have taught him to hide them.

From the Shiz Gazette online (and the books), we know his parents are Baxiana of Upper Fanarra and Marilott, Chieftan of the Arjikis. In my headcanon, his mother is the queen regent, the royal one and his father is the Ozian equivalent of a nobleman. He has a younger sister four years his junior named Arrietta with whom he is very close (she’s my OC).

Having not been raised in the rigid royal structure, Marilott taught his children that there was more to life than rules and appearances. Even if he couldn’t shelter them from their position, he made sure that they got to experience a taste of more “normal” things. Even if Baxiana saw them as her successors, Marilott saw them as his children. Most, if not all, of Fiyero’s happiest memories involved his father.

His death hit Fiyero very hard and is the main catalyst to his evolution into the man we see in Wicked. With him died the carefree boy Fiyero once was. Being fourteen, it came right around the time where he was expected to formally begin to prepare for royal duties and his mother was very strict with him. She had no patience with his slower progression in his studies (which I headcanon to be a combo of dyslexia and adhd) and implemented a stricter study regime, which inadvertently made it worse. He began to develop feelings of inadequacy and low self esteem about his abilities to be a ruler and began to yearn for his mother’s approval. Even if there were times where she was satisfied, she didn’t outwardly show it. Why would she, when royals weren’t expected to show emotion? Every social interaction was a transaction, one where nobody cared about anything but a satisfying end result.

Feeling trapped by his mother, his destiny, and his internal turmoil, Fiyero began to act out. Having partaken in an increasing amount of public events, he became aware that his people were enamored by him. Everytime he ventured beyond the castle walls, he would find crowds of people his age following his every step, listening to his every word. If he could garner attention simply by existing, maybe he could gain their respect by giving something to admire. After all, who could resist being royalty AND being cool?

The Winkie Prince was seen at almost every night club in Winkie Country and Oz, dancing the night away in the middle of the dance floor, winning the heart of every lucky Ozian to be graced by his presence. Every time he was expelled from university, angry students would petition the board to revoke their decision. When they didn’t, his classmates would gather and bide him tearful farewells. The expulsions didn’t both him one bit because wherever he went and wherever he would end up next, he would have an admiring crowd that he could entertain with abandon. That is, until he meets a special girl at Shiz…

Now here is where the real Fiyero fits in as well as the Animals. Yes, things may have been bleak for him, but there were only two places he felt the most safe: Arrietta and the Animal staff at the castle.

Despite his facade being so convincing that even Fiyero himself forgot it wasn’t real, there were times where his old emotions would bubble to the surface. When he was younger, he would burst into tears and as he grew, he would sulk in his hiding spots throughout the castle. Of course, his sister would find him and the two would often sit together, some times in silence and other times, listening to eachother’s woes. She was the only human after their father’s death who loved him for who he was and she was the only person he could be himself with. She had similar worries, but instead of acting out, she turned inward and grew to be an intelligent but shy young woman. She never told him this to make Fiyero more worried than he already was, but she secretly wanted her “old” brother back. The carefree boy who would tease her until she cried, joked until she laughed, and tell stories until she fell asleep.

His other source of comfort, the Animals, are the reason many years later, Fiyero stands up to the injustice against them. The Winkies were known for their deeper connection with nature and Animals, which is why they are so prominent in culture, politics, and trade in their country. The royal family was no different and many of the staff at the castle were Animals, including Fiyero’s governess, tutors, and personal guard. He was most fond of his governess, a kind panda named Palina who stayed with the royal children until Fiyero left for his first university. Even in retirement, she would write letters to her former charges, who never failed to write back. While he was away, she was his safe space, her warm and fuzzy hugs replaced with warm and encouraging words of ink. His tutors, despite instructions from Baxiana to be more strict with his curriculum, had empathy for the prince’s learning struggles and would try various methods to help him learn. They also understood the importance and value of encouragement and would give him small praises and rewards for completing tasks on time or correctly. Fiyero never understood why humans couldn’t be as good teachers as animals and attributed the former’s lack of empathy for their spartan methods.

Finally, Fiyero met Feldspur completely by accident! He had been hiding in one of his hiding spots in the royal stables (which were more like suites for the Horses) when one of the mares found him in the corner of her suite. She knew him and he knew her, so it hadn’t been awkward but she thought she would cheer the teen up by introducing her colt Feldspur to him. At first, the two didn’t see eye to eye, as Feldspur didn’t know why a prince would be unhappy and Fiyero didn’t know why the young horse asked so many questions, but the two eventually warmed to eachother when Fiyero realized that Feldspur actually listened to him. Even if he wasn’t human and wasn’t Fiyero’s age (in animal years haha), he listened intently and the questions that bothered him were asked with curiosity and care, not mocking or ignorance. Fiyero had eventually forgotten why he had been in the stables in the first place, having made a new friend that was on the same level as him. The two quite literally grew up together (and ate grass together in the process) and share a deep friendship that goes beyond a prince and his noble steed.

Phew, that was a lot IM SO SORRY HAHAHA. At that I’m gonna log out and explore this more in fics and drabbles in the future. If you made it this far, THANK YOU and I promise future posts will be shorter 🤗

[coffins-and-marbles]

Hey OP what are your trans Wilson headcanons? I want them from everyone ever

i love trans wilson forever so this might be a bit long!

wilson hates that he is trans, hates mentioning it or thinking about it and never brings it up if there's literally any other option

he realised he was trans super young (like 12?) but didn't know the terminology and was too scared of being further ostracized (autistic wilson, my no1 headcanon) so he just kept to himself and thought of himself as a butch lesbian in order to feel less guilty (this was a secret too, but he felt like being attracted to girls since he knew he was a guy deep down was better and more Straight...)

coming out to his parents was an absolute mess, we never see them in the show so i make them terrible in my mind for angst opportunities! and i agree that only Danny understood immediately -he already knows what it's like not to fit in. it's a big part of why he never sees his family (they tried some conversion stuff, he feels too guilty to be angry) it all plays into his constant attempts to be this Perfect Guy

as a child he always wanted to wear a suit and work a 9-5 (it was his heavily gender stereotyped idea of masculinity)

i personally think he's he/him exclusively because it makes him feel more Normal

he got top surgery and phallo ASAP because his dysphoria was terrible, he cried and had panic attacks whenever he had to shower etc (he also abused his binder to hell and back as well as trying to diy it as a kid by layering sports bras and guys DONT DO THAT)

there was a small complication with the phallo and although it was fixable it set him back like three months and he hardly left the house and cried just all day

he just literally makes every effort to appear like he was born AMAB and genuinely felt too ashamed to like blow dry his hair for years in case he was seen as feminine

house immediately clocks it because of some stupidly obscure house reason but it's not interesting enough for him to care.

house is the only one at PTTH who knows

when hilson happens house watches wilson do his t shots a couple times and just is unreasonably horny about the whole thing then they both discover forcemasc and...lets just say they have fun with it...

wilson and house feel more confident to undress at the beach with eachother because hey they both have scars

wilson still gets randomly dysphoric about the stupidest things ("house do you think my left eyebrow looks too feminine") and house uses the power of his usual sarcasm to dispel any doubts ("wilson that is the stupidest thing anybody's said ever")

okay ill stop now but when i say i could go on for pages i mean it!!!! i wrote this quickly in the morning because i dont have set headcanons usually i just go with the vibes but uhm...enjoy!!

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (ace x reader) [pt2]

a/n: i have been very obsessed with Ace recently :0c anyways here’s part 2! 

contents: brief mentions of death, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, pining!Ace, kidnapping (+ rescue), allusions to human trafficking

wc. 3.3k

wanna be on my taglist?

part 1

i. 

you’d entered the forest hoping to die.

only a week had passed since your parents set sail on the open seas, claiming their yearning for adventure was far too strong to ignore any longer. “we’d bring you with us but you’re too young,” they said but even at the young age of eleven you knew they were more than happy to leave you behind.

the air was fresh–much fresher than the usual stink of the Grey Terminal–and dotted rays of sunlight shone through the thick canopy of leaves above. you could hear the faint running of water and feel the breeze brushing past your skin.

it was a pleasant experience but you still wished to die.

instead, you came face-to-face with a boy who had large round eyes and a straw hat atop his head.

you’re gently woken up from your sleep by the feeling of your mattress dipping and the sound of sheets rustling. the room is still dark, only barely illuminated by the moonlight shining through your window, and yet it doesn’t take much effort to recognise the culprit.

Ace crawls across the length of your mattress, tossing your blanket out of his way as he moves. his hair is tousled and his signature orange hat is nowhere to be found. once he’s close enough, he slumps forward and spreads his arms out–one of which plops right across your chest.

“y’know they’re just gonna drag you out again, right?” you mumble, shifting slightly to lay on your side to face the boy whose face is now planted downward on one of your pillows. Ace mutters something you can’t quite make out as he hooks his arm around you to pull you closer before his muscles visibly relax, preparing for sleep.

you learned the boy’s name was Luffy and that his caregiver had a habit of adopting stray children. upon sharing with your new friend your desire to no longer be alive, he’d simply called you silly and lent you his straw hat. you kept it on your head as he held your hand and led you deeper into the forest.

Luffy spoke the entire trip to Dadan’s house and had practically shared his entire life story by the time you reached the cabin. you didn’t share anything about yourself, content with simply listening.

Dadan yelled at Luffy for bringing home another random kid but stopped once she laid her eyes on you. though she maintained her scowl and crossed arms, you could tell she wasn’t truly as angry as she was pretending to be.

“whatever,” she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand, “stay if you want. you can’t possibly be as troublesome as Ace and Luffy are anyway.”

that night, without saying a word, she handed you a fresh set of clothes and a sleeping mat and pillow.

you listen as Ace’s breathing slows down and evens out. as usual, he’s out cold within the span of several seconds. you’d love to go back to sleep yourself but if the past week has taught you anything, you know someone else is about to show up in just a few more seconds.

right on cue, your bedroom door slams open and there stands a bleary-eyed Marco in his pajamas.

“how many times do we have to do this before you stop?” he groans as he shuffles over to the side of the bed where Ace is sleeping. the older man grabs Ace by the collar of his shirt–much like a mother cat would pick up their cub by the scruff of their neck–and yanks him off the bed.

“let go of me, you fuck!” Ace yells a split second after he’s startled awake. through half-lidded eyes, you watch him struggle to break out of Marco’s iron-grip as he’s pulled across your room like a sack of potatoes towards your open door.

“Ace can sleep with me, Marco, it’s alright,” you say, already missing the warmth, but all the first division commander does is shrug.

“Pops’ orders. ‘night, (Y/N),” Marco yawns before he shuts your door, completely unbothered by the young man wriggling in an almost feral manner. he swings his flaming fists around threateningly but makes no actual attempt to start a fight. 

you can’t help but drift off to sleep with a smile on your face and a funny tingling feeling deep in your chest at the thought of Ace’s desperation to sleep simply beside you.

Ace hated you the moment he laid his eyes on you. though he kept it to himself, not wanting to ruin Luffy’s fun of having a new friend, he despised your presence. no matter how he tried to look at the situation, he couldn’t help but feel as though you were trying to be Sabo’s replacement.

he hated how you tried to keep talking to him every day, gradually growing more bold over time despite his repeated rejection. 

he hated how Luffy loved swinging through the trees with you (he’d invited Ace before but the older boy called it childish and dumb). 

he hated how you actually listened to Dadan and helped out with household chores. 

he hated how you were so clumsy and awkward whenever Luffy invited you to explore the forest with them. 

he especially hated how you never cried even after falling down or spraining an ankle.

“let’s go fishing, Ace,” you chirped one day with a wide smile on your face. there was a bruise on your forehead from the day before when you tripped over a root. the boy merely scoffed and turned away, already feeling the burning in his chest that manifested everytime you tried to spend time with him.

“yea, let’s fish!” Luffy cheered, grabbing both your hands before taking off towards the nearest river. Ace didn’t fight it, telling himself he relented just because he didn’t want to disappoint Luffy. 

if his younger brother wanted so badly for you to join then so be it. Ace didn’t care.

it didn’t take much time before Ace realised he did kind of care–but only because for some reason you were so much better at fishing than he was and Luffy thought that was super cool. 

he gritted his teeth and stewed in his anger for a while longer, determined to keep his rising frustration under control but your laughter intermingling with Luffy’s just pissed him off. if looks could kill, you would’ve dropped dead from his glaring ages ago.

“you’re so fun, (Y/N)!” Luffy giggled and something inexplicable within Ace snapped. 

before he knew it, he’d snatched your fishing pole out of your hands and broke it in half before tossing it into the river. ignoring his younger brother’s pleas for him to calm down and be nice to you, Ace grabbed your shoulder and pushed you towards the cold running water. as you stumbled backwards, your ankle collided with something hard causing you to fall. you yelped from the shock and pain as you felt your clothes get soaked with freezing river water. 

Ace’s anger had mostly dissipated by then, only to be replaced swiftly by a deep sense of guilt. it felt like cold, frigid fingers were gripping his heart and squeezing with all their might. he could hear Luffy yelling at him but everything sounded muffled except for one thing: your crying.

ii.

there’s a bet amongst the commanders on how many attempts on Whitebeard’s life will it take for Ace to finally give up and join the crew.

it’s only been a little over a week since your reunion but most of the commanders have already lost since they made their bets assuming Ace was a sane person. the only three left in the game are Marco, Jozu and Vista–though, judging by the ruckus coming from inside Whitebeard’s room, you suspect Jozu might be out soon. 

the newly-replaced door flies straight off its hinges and into the ocean as Ace is once again thrown out of the room, his back slamming into the deck railing with a sickening thud. breathless, he lays on the ground for a few minutes, completely ignored by passers-by–at this point, it’s just another Thursday afternoon.

“hey,” you call out from where you sit on the deck floor with a book in your hands, just a few metres away. you can’t help but smile when you see how he perks up almost instantaneously. getting on his hands and knees, Ace shuffles over until he’s sitting right beside you, his thigh pressing against yours.

you were avoiding him and a part of him wished he didn’t know why. if he was in the dark, he could at least default to being angry but it was hard to ignore the guilt nagging at his brain whenever he saw the way you limped or the bruise that had blossomed on your shoulder.

Luffy had been mad at him, too, for the rest of the day for hurting his new friend. he’d only warmed back up to his older brother after nightfall when the two spoke in uncharacteristically hushed tones under the blanket. Ace wasn’t afraid to admit he’d done something wrong and that he felt bad about it, he just didn’t really know what to do next.

“how’s killing Pops’ going?” you ask, setting the book aside on the floor before you reach out to brush some stray strands of hair out of his face. he always looks so messy after trying to kill your captain, it’s endearing only because you know it’s probably the one thing he’ll never succeed in.

“not great, clearly,” he sighs as he leans against you while absentmindedly playing with the hem of your shorts. “i knew it wasn’t going to be easy but not this hard… why don’t we just leave together? we can find my old crew and you can be my second first mate.”

you chuckle at his offer. “i didn’t know it was possible for you to become even more stubborn than when you were a kid.” Ace’s pout grows deeper so you decide to appease him by combing your fingers through his hair–a habit you picked back up pretty quick after reuniting with him, much to his visible pleasure. “you already know i’m never leaving this crew. they’re my family.”

“i thought i was your family?” he replies, though he knows deep in his heart that’s not the most accurate word he’d use to describe your relationship–even back when you were children.

Makino was surprised to see a familiar face enter Partys Bar on a random Tuesday afternoon. thankfully, it was a slow day for business.

“how do i… say sorry to someone?” Ace asked, perched on one of the barstools with his eyes glued to his hands on his lap. Makino couldn’t help but smile at the innocence in his question.

“well, it depends,” she replied. “what did you do?”

“i hurt (Y/N). i got mad and pushed her and she fell.”

“did she do something to you?”

“... no.”

as much as she wanted to chide the boy for his actions, she could tell from the look on his face that he’d beat himself up over it more than enough already. besides, he came asking for help righting the wrong, who was she to deny such a request?

that night, Ace ran back to Dadan’s cabin with a handful of wildflowers clutched carefully in his hand. his heart pounded not only from the running but from the sheer nerves of what he was about to do. he rehearsed the words he practiced with Makino in his head over and over until he was certain he could recite them in his sleep. 

when he’d finally reached his destination, though, he was greeted by a panicked Dogra and Magra.

“(Y/N)’s been taken. Dadan and Luffy went looking for her!”

“of course you’re my family,” you tell Ace as you continue to scratch his scalp, chuckling when you see his eyes flutter close as he leans into your touch. “you know you’ll always be my best friend.” he ignores the sudden pang in his chest. “i just owe too much to Pops and the others. i know they won’t stop me if i try to leave but i’ve found my place here. this could be your place, too, y’know?”

Ace doesn’t reply but he doesn’t reject the idea entirely either like he would’ve done a week ago.

iii.

Ace is startled awake when he hears the sound of the door creaking open. setting his hand ablaze on instinct, he readies himself for a fight. ‘this is it,’ he thinks to himself, ‘the cards are off the table now. i knew the Whitebeard pirates were just putting up a front to get my guard down.’

“chill out, dude,” your voice floats across the room in a frantic whisper as you quietly close the door behind you. “it’s just me.” the flames engulfing his hand disappear instantly as he feels his initial apprehension melt into relief.

“what’re you doing here?” Ace asks in his own whispered tone, scooting over to make space for you on the small bed he’d been given as Whitebeard’s ‘prisoner’. “won’t your Pops get mad?” he feels his face heat up as he watches you make yourself comfortable, eventually settling down with your face just mere inches away from his as you both lay on your sides.

“Pops’ll never get mad at me, i’m his darling daughter,” you reply half heartedly as you snuggle your face into his pillow. the action causes your loose shirt collar to slip off your shoulder enough to reveal a scar Ace hasn’t thought about in a long time.

without a second thought, he reaches out to trace his finger across the marred skin. it’s a jagged line from the base of the side of your neck, perpendicular to your collarbone, ending just a few centimetres below it. it’s a weird place for a scar but he knows it’s real: he was there to witness the injury that caused it.

he’d found you trapped in the arms of an unfamiliar man as he held a knife to your neck. Ace could see the sheen of sweat covering your skin as you trembled, your fingernails dug into your captor’s forearm in a futile attempt to make him let go.

“drop the knife, asshole,” Ace warned, pipe at the ready.

“fuck off, kid! she’s mine! i’m gonna get off this fucking island and bring this bitch to Sabaody.” he laughed in an almost manical manner. “if her limp’s permanent, it might reduce her value but i know the Celestial Dragons love pretty girls.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a sob at the man’s crude words as well as the pain shooting through your re-twisted ankle. it was close to full recovering when you were snatched from the riverside where you sat earlier in the day, only to get hurt all over again in your struggle for freedom. 

the sound of your cries set something in Ace’s chest ablaze as he felt rage cloud every thought in his mind other than one: save you. with gritted teeth and boiling blood pumping through his veins, Ace charged at your kidnapper and swung his pipe.

“that was a crazy day, huh?” you mumble, feeling goosebumps ripple across your skin as he continues to trace his index finger over your scar.

“if i wasn’t so reckless, you wouldn’t have been hurt.” he bites down on the inside of his cheek as a familiar wave of guilt washing over him. you sigh and grab the hand that’s touching your skin, maneuvering it so that your palm presses against his. through the darkness of the room, you can see him smile a little as he curls his fingers, interlocking them with your own. as you expect, his skin feels warm.

“technically, your recklessness saved me from a lifetime of being a Celestial Dragon’s pet,” you point out. “i don’t think he was prepared to fight off a feral child.”

“how dare you call me feral,” he laughs.

“you were super feral! both you and Luffy. i was the only sane one, just ask Dadan.”

“sure,” Ace replies with a roll of his eyes, dragging out the word in a playful manner. 

“i really mean it, though. you saved my life that day, Ace.” you lower your interlocked hands to rest in between your faces on top of the pillow. “so you better stop getting all mopey whenever you see the scar.”

the man laid on the forest ground, beaten to a pulp. if it weren’t for the occasional rising of his chest, you would’ve thought he was dead. Ace heaved as he stood over the unconscious man, the pipe he used as a weapon now coated in blood and dented in several areas.

it had been a few minutes since the fight ended but the boy still breathed heavily and his hand still gripped the pipe in his hand so hard his knuckles were deathly pale.

“Ace?” you called out apprehensively from where you sat a few metres behind him, voice slightly hoarse from crying. you could see him tense up but he remained silent. “are you okay?”

the pipe fell to the ground with a muffled thud as he turned around, eyebrows still deeply furrowed. his eyes flickered to the hand you kept pressed against the junction between your shoulder and neck. without saying a word, he closed the gap between him and you before dropping to his knees.

“here,” Ace said, pulling out a handful of crumpled flowers. he held them up to you expectedly. “i’m sorry i hurt you the other day. i was mad at something else and took it out on you. please forgive me.”

dumbfounded, you found yourself staring at him for a few silent seconds. his lip was busted and his entire body was littered in little cuts and blossoming bruises. he’d nearly killed a man; and yet here he was.

Ace gulped when his apology went unacknowledged. he nearly even started to panic when he realised Makino hadn’t told him what to do if you chose to not forgive him. 

thankfully, you reached out and took the flowers as a smile stretched across your teary face.

his heart, which had been calming down after the intense fight, revved back up again as he felt something burst in his chest. a strange tingling feeling spread across his entire body and suddenly all the pain from his injuries melted away. Ace felt a warmth envelop his face and he nearly covered his cheeks with his hands–stopping himself only because he knew it would make it too obvious.

you’d fallen asleep with your hand still in his. your face was so close to his own he could feel your gentle breaths brush across his face. although he himself feels the pull of sleep, he resists the urge for a little while more, needing time to gather his thoughts.

Ace thinks about his experience so far on the Moby Dick; how he’s been trying relentlessly to kill Whitebeard and yet everyone’s been treating him with such patience. hell, they’ve never threatened to slap sea prism stone cuffs on him even once. 

he realises he’s already familiarised himself with some of the commanders, namely Marco and Thatch; and how even though he’s been acting like such a brat, the two older men have still been nothing but kind. as much as he hates that Marco takes up so much of your time, Ace can’t deny how much chemistry you have with the whole crew and how much they seem to love you so sincerely and unconditionally.

could i have that, too, one day?

he recalls something you said during a conversation earlier in the day.

“i’ve found my place here. this could be your place, too, y’know?”

and suddenly the answer seems so simple. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7 @38lyra38 @chaseyui @paraparakisss

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[creatingblackcharacters]

so I have this idea for a Black OC (hes Black and Filipino and most of the main cast is filipino in a superhero world) inspired by Superman similar to "respectability politics" he has to always be good and kind and perfect he cant be frustrated or angry otherwise he's an illegal alien threat out to destroy the world, he's a mermaid alien who's raised by a human mermaid family on Earth (his birth parents are activists inspired by Martial Law activists in the Philippines. they arent dead just imprisoned i didn't want to do an absent father thing. so eventually they're able to meet him again on Earth so now he has 4 parents, his birth parents and adopted parents) i wasn't sure what to make his hair but i always imagined him with short hair (I hope that's not problematic somehow) i wanted to send this when the fanart i commissioned was done but it's not done yet so here's a picrew of him. the other thing i was thinking about him was i love sharks they're one of my fave animals and i wanted to base his mermaid form off sharks but will associating him with sharks make him come off as aggressive or animalistic should i remove the sharks thing? (also he was originally just Filipino but I always imagined his adopted family as Black and then i thought on it why make the supporting cast Black but not the main character? and then it occurred to me he can be Black AND Filipino) (i would love to send more asks about him later if thats ok)

I think he's perfectly fine 👍🏾 as long as you don't write him to be inherently aggressive in comparison to your nonblack characters, or more aggressive "as a shark" but no other shark in the narrative shares that temperament, you're fine.

[claiestve]

hey pookie 😽

could i request an isaac fic where he takes pickle to the japanese countryside (maybe to meet his mother’s parents or smth)?

ILY CLAI YOUR WRITING IS AMAZING IDK WHAT YOU SAY

𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠 ꨄ Isaac

˜”* ❝𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙖 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜.❞

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴀᴘᴀɴ.

⎯୨⎯ " " ⎯୧⎯

“It’s pretty, right?”

Your husband asked, searching your face for approval. He got so much more than that. As you looked at the waterfall before you, your face was plastered in awe. You wondered why Isaac wanted to show you this place but now you figured why. 

You tried to respond, but the beauty of it all left you speechless, your words lost to the force of nature before you. The cool mist on your face felt like a gentle embrace as if the waterfall was sharing its secret with you—something ancient and serene. 

Isaac smiled softly, watching you. “I knew you’d like it,” he murmured, his voice barely rising above the sound of the water. He stepped closer, his hand finding yours, grounding you in the present, in this moment.

You squeezed his hand, finally finding your voice. “It’s... incredible. I—I don’t even have words for this.”

He chuckled, and for a moment, everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, standing there in the silence of the world’s wonder, connected by more than just the view, but by the shared stillness of the moment.

“I was hoping you’d like this place so we could come out here during the summer,” Isaac said, his tone quieter now, almost contemplative.

“Hm? Why the summer?” You looked up at him, your curiosity piqued.

Isaac glanced down at you, his expression softening. “It was a bit of a family tradition,” he said slowly. “My mom’s side, they live just a few hours away. I haven’t seen them in... well, it’s been almost 18 years.” His voice caught, just a fraction, as the weight of those years settled. “I used to come out here with them when I was a kid. My grandmother would bring us every summer—she used to say the falls had magic in them, said they could ‘heal’ you.”

You could hear the nostalgia in his voice, the longing for a piece of his past. “I’ve wanted to bring you here for a while. I guess... I guess I’ve been putting it off. But now, seeing it with you—it feels like it’s finally the right time.”

You looked at him, sensing the deeper layers of his words. The falls weren’t just a pretty place to him—they were part of his history, part of a family he’d lost touch with. You’d known about his mother’s side of the family, of course, but hearing him say it out loud made it real in a way it hadn’t been before.

“Do they still live out here? I’d love to meet them.” You smiled at him, trying to heal his inner child who wanted to relive that peace. 

Isaac hesitated for a moment, his gaze drifting to the waterfall again as if the answer might be hidden there in the water.

“They do,” he started, “My aunt and uncle live about an hour away, and my grandmother’s old house is still standing, though... it’s not the same anymore.” His voice faltered momentarily, and you could feel the weight of the years pressing down on him, like old memories rising to the surface.

“I haven’t been back since the last time I saw them,” he continued, the words coming more like a confession. “I was just a kid when we... lost touch. The murders– it all fell apart so quickly. And I guess I just... let it slip away. Didn’t know how to get back, didn’t know how to face them again.”

“Hey,” You offered your eyes as a ladder to freedom, “We don’t have to visit if you don’t want to. If you’re not ready, we don’t have to, okay?” 

Isaac’s breathing started to slow down as he looked at you again. As if you were a type of stress relief. Your presence gave him the space he needed to feel less afraid.

“I know…” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “It’s just– I never thought I’d go back. I was so… angry, for so long. And now, it feels like… I don’t know, like I’m standing on the edge of something I’m not sure I’m ready to jump into.”

You stepped closer, your hand finding its way to his chest, just over his heart. "You don't have to jump, Isaac. You can just dip your toes in, and see how it feels. And if it's too much, we leave. But we're in this together, okay?" 

Isaac leaned down and kissed the top of your head, a gesture that spoke volumes without needing to say another word. 

"Maybe... we’ll try the summer," Isaac said quietly, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of resolve and relief. "One step at a time."

You nodded, a feeling of peace washing over you as if everything had aligned just right.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

first of all, immediate yes. i luv this idea so bad

also, im fully convinced if we keep writing isaac fics he might find the keys to the dungeon and escape.

ty for requesting kieran, ilyt

[l-egionaire]

My Warrior!Penlope AU: Final Boss

So, in my Warrior Penelope AU, I mentioned that Penelope would spend ten years in the land of the giants before then making her way home. This begs the question: If Penelope never pisses off Poseidon or Amphirite, who's the "final boss" of her journey? The last enemy she has to overcome before making it home and killing the suitors? Easy: Antiphates.

If you don't know who that is, in mythology, he's the king of the Laestrygonian's (the giants who live in the Land of the Giants and who back sing for Poseidon in "Ruthlessness.") And he's the major obstacle to Penelope during her time in the Land of the Giants.

When she first arrived, she'd met a young giant lady gathering water from a fountain and kindly asked her for her help. The young woman led her to the mansion of the king and she humbly asked for help from him to return home. Unfortunately, she found no hospitality there, for the king immediately decided to eat her and only a well thrown axe into his eye was able to save her from ending up going down his throat.

And her troubles only grew from there. The king ordered his men to go the shore and hurl rocks in order to destroy her single vessel, stranding her there. Then, he'd put out a kind of bounty on her head with all his citizens, saying that she was to be eaten on sight. Thus, Penelope spent the next ten years struggling to survive, having to scurry from place to place like a rat and live in a cramped, wet cave in order to avoid being seen and hunted down. The few times she was caught, she then had no choice but to flee or, if she could, work to kill her discoverer, at one point even having to kill a giant child who had found her and was following his parents instructions to get her.

After getting her blessed arrows and quiver that constantly replenished themselves from Artemis in her tenth year, Penelope went to work systematically killing giants one by one. Using her superior speed and smaller size to fire off volleys of arrows into their eyes, feet, ears and necks in order to bring them down close enough that she could use the new axes, spear and spiked shield she'd carved from the dead bones of their tribesmen to slit their throats or stab their necks in the proper place to make them bleed out. Once she'd killed as many as possible, she proceeded to go straight to the kings manor, where she found him sitting on his throne.

She stood before him, soaked in the blood of his people and, in an eerily calm voice, told him that the bounty on her head was over, that she would be making a boat and leaving and that before she did, she was going to kill him to make him pay for having trapped her in this hell. The king laughed at her so hard, he could barely see through the tears of mirth in his eyes. As he thanked her for giving him such a good laugh before he had a nice snack......she shot an arrow straight into his mouth, piercing his uvula.

The king screamed and clutched his throat, and the battle began. The smashing of clubs, the hurling of ship sized fists, the firing of arrows and hurling of spears....and it all ended with the king on the floor, the outside of his throat now bleeding as profusely as the inside.

For a moment, Penelope was filled with wild glee, the monster that had kept her prisoner away from her family for so long now dead. And then-

"ANTIPHATES!"

"DAD!"

Two sets of footsteps quaked through the manor as the kings wife and daughter ran over yo his dying body, his wife cradling him tenderly.

"No, No, No! P-please! Don't leave me...." Tears flowed down the queen's face like a river down a mountain's peak. She gave a grieving, angry glare at Penelope. "YOU MONSTER! YOU TOOK MY HUSBAND!"

Penelope's hands trembled. As she stared at them all, just for a second, she wasn't looking at the queen of the giants and her daughter holding the king, but rather herself and Telemachus holding a dying Odysseus.

She then recalled the words of another giant that she had slain, practically a lifetime ago.

"What gives you the right to deal a pain so deep? Don't you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?"

While her daughter clutched her father's dead body, the queen then rose to her full towering height and glared down at Penelope.

"You're going to PAY for this!"

The fingers on her bow stilled....and Penelope raised it up to point at the queen's face.

"No. I won't."

THWACK!

After another hour of fighting, of running, of screams of rage and tears and death, Penelope left the mansion even more bloodstained than before, her face weary but numb and went to begun building her boat. Hoping to leave the land and its nightmares behind.

[joffyworld]

Whats you favorite au of anything

My AU :3

Lmaoo no, hmmmm it's hard to say. I have a few I can't super well, like, rank them. I WILL however, use this as a chance to shout-out my current obsessions

@twooftheluckyones's AU is DELICIOUSLY fluffy and also makes me cry sometimes, especially the main storyline of the betrayal. Those two are way too powerful. Also their recent foray into more OC content with Baal and Oko has literally ruined my life and inspired me to write several poems. I will forever adore these two, go read their stuff I beg you.

@aychama's Royal AU dude I cannot even with that au. I am feral for anything medieval and Ayça has just made the sweetest lemonade out of those gay lemons. ough, so good. Plus the way it's like a mutual slowburn, but you only ever see Lambert's side of it all? AUGH so tragically well done, I can't wait for each new page. You NEED to see it if you somehow haven't yet.

@bamsara's TROD is the reason I ever got into this fandom, and it remains the only fandom I've ever been in. I've been here 4 months and met so many beautiful people, so if I had to designate a "favourite" I guess it would be theirs? But like, I love so many it's hard to choose anymore

@bloos-bloo's Toybox AU because I'm feral over Emery and also Kallamar and Nari and it's just so deliciously evil and omfg so good. It's like, sinister as hell and I can't really recommend it because it deals with some heavy concepts but omg it's good. Read it when you're older xD

@kiko---random-stuff-probably's Jewel Box AU. We talk in DM's about it allllll the time it's so good I wish I had the power to just let people log into my account and see it all xD. It's really good and the way Kiko writes tragic gays is just magnificent. I can't help it, I'm so invested into them it's tragic.

@the-artist-grimm's Crimson Angel AU has, on several occasions, had me FUCKED UP in the club. That awkward co-parenting but still angry at eachother phase? The betrayal as a whole? THE PARENTING????????????? It's so beautifully written, please go read it.

@ro-bee's Goat AU has me feral because like, Kiran is literally me. No but seriously it's so cute and fluffy and the dog is so pathetic I just need it in my veins.

@aniimoni's mythology AU. It's only had a few pieces made for it at this point, but omg the concept has me crying in the club. Anii is the master of "Here's a cute concept. Now I'm going to tear your heart out" and it tricks me into feeling safe and warm and fuzzy every time until that bastard steals my soul again /pos. Go check Anii out in general if you somehow haven't yet, very cool artist and person in general.

I'll stop gushing over my favourite shit now. There's SO many more I could rant all day. Sorry for the tags guys if you want me to remove them please tell me 😭

[loseractivities]

What’s your headcanons for stuilly as kids???🤨

thanks for asking!!!! fjahdjshhshshshdhdhshs

i love childhood stuilly sooo fucking much. ok for starters

- they met in kindergarten

- stu was the class clown and well liked by students but since billy rarely talked or engaged with others he had no friends other than stu

- despite this stu was mostly the one clinging to billy and trying to get him talking

- billy was extremely reluctant to the idea of a sleepover because of his routine (watching movies and falling asleep alone or near his mom)

- but after stu persuaded him the first time they kept having sleepovers.

- billy yapped and yapped about movies when he realized he could talk to stu and he would actually be interested. autism

- billy kills stus pet hamster. or fish. or both. havent decided. he just at some point "accidentally" kills it by flushing it down the toilet or something

- stu is the one that introduces billy to hunting, weapons, etc. billy of course gets too into it

- oh yea, i think stu's parents send him to a christian camp for the summer. when stu first meets billy stu has no filter and will not shut up about him and stu's parents do NOT take that well

- overall i just live for the concept of them being freaks, like billy staring off into space or poking road kill or something while stu rambles about odd shit

- oh and of course the polaroid headcanon. stu for sure gets a polaroid camera that he eventually has to share with billy and they take pictures of each other. i think billy kept a lot of photos from when they were younger, stu ends up losing or misplacing them

- i think with the first girlfriend stu gets billy gets unreasonably angry with him and refuses to talk to him for at least a week. until he learns thats not normal behavior and has to stop doing that

- not so fun headcanon imo billy calls stu the f slur consistently throughout their friendship. at first stu is genuinely hurt by it but then it just blurs along with all the other insults billy doesn't actually mean

- stu started smoking weed around 14 (dont ask how he got it) and billy started smoking cigarettes at 15 (dont ask how he got it)

- when billy was younger since his mom was mostly dressing him he's dress kinda preppy and with neatly done hair and stuff. he didnt hate it or anything, but when he was 15 or so he got more into grungy stuff

- stu was the one that pierced billy's ears, billy pierced stu's. at 15 too maybe

- ive said this before i think but billy was an extremely picky eater and refused to eat anything "new" when he was little

- they would carve things into trees

- billy cried a lot when he was like 2-7

- stu would purposefully hurt himself or others for attention and play it off as an accident

- stu was (and is) very impulsive and takes a lotttt of risks for seemingly no reason other than taking a risk

- billy was extremely competitive

- on the school bus even if it was completely empty they would sit right next to each other

- like a literal dog stu used to pretty much tackle billy into the ground because he would be so happy to see him. he fortuntely somewhat grew out of that habit

thanks thats all for now but im sure theres more in my brain that i cant think of atm