#anyway. the only time i think he uses food (specifically the lack of it) as a form of self punishment is after the doyle thing

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny's Grill Part 2

Special thanks to @mkarchin713 for letting me use their idea.

Tim's night had been hectic.

Not only have things at WE taken a turn for the worst due to some random influencer that decided Wayne Enterprises was the cause of global warming and convinced all his fans of the same- despite the fact they were the nation's leading company in green energy- sales have been down.

The board was breathing down his neck to fix the stocks while being no help at all to get the youth back on their side. He's already pulled twelve hours of overtime this week and it was only Wednesday.

He's been dealing with the PR nightmare while trying to get to the bottom of data theft across multiple big-name technology companies. Reports of scams and total funds lost were reported all through Gotham and only his city.

Tim suspects someone had been planting screen recording devices in one of Gotham's shipping factories before they left the buildings, stealing all the information from new buyers.

Since his theory is so hard to trace, he's been having difficulty pinpointing the base of operations, never mind having enough proof for his thesis. After Bruce's lost-in-time fiasco, Tim learns to have evidence before going to the family with anything.

So that means he's been trying to fight his way on his own, which usually isn't too much to handle, but stress and lack of sleep have really been slowing him down.

Thankfully, a specific food truck appears in his line of sight, and his mood improves drastically. He finds a safe roof to quickly change into his civilians, already fantasizing about what delicious food he would eat.

Dressed in his typical Alvin Draper disguise- black, almost second-skin tights and an oversized sweater- he all but skips to Danny's Grill.

"Night, Danny," He says, smiling at the back of the chef. He leans on the little extended table outside the truck's small window. He takes a sniff of the air, mouth watering at the scent.

Looks like tonight is cheeseburgers, as Danny carefully flips some patties. Danny whirls around with a smile of his own, only to drop the spatula in horror.

"Alvin! What happened!?" Danny shouts, nearly flinging himself through the tiny opening. The vigilante blinks in confusion before catching his reflection in the napkin dispenser.

In his haste to have some of Danny's food, he forgot to cover up a black eye, swollen right cheekbone, and busted lip from his last faulty lead. A goon had gotten him by surprise and had nearly rearranged his face before he was able to get his wits about him.

"Nothing, really; it comes with the job, you know?" Tim tries to play off, laughing nervously when Danny's expression crumbles into pure rage. "Look, it's no big deal-"

"How can it not be a big deal!? Half your face is swollen!"

That happens when someone hits you with a metal pipe in the face. He thinks hysterically. "I've had worse."

"That's not comforting!" Danny screams, throwing off his apron. "Let me close down, and I'll take you to a doctor-"

"No hospitals. They'll ask where I got this, and I can't answer that." Tim cuts in, voice hard. There is a tense moment where he thinks Danny will force him to go anyway, but after a moment the other man growls slamming his hands on the counter.

"Fine. Fine. No hospitals. At least let me ice it." It takes everything in Tim not to shrink back from the hateful tone. He barely has the mind to nod as Danny quickly unlocks the little door that leads into his truck, ushering the Bat inside with barely controlled rage.

He knows it's not aimed at him, but being around someone so upset makes his skin crawl. Tim has problems with offending people; his parents had been masters in drilling into him from a young age.

That's why Tim always sought the approval of everyone around him, even if he couldn't stand the person.

He has been working on it, but old habits died hard.

"Sorry." He mumbles as Danny quickly gets a zippy bag full of ice.

"Don't. Apologize." Danny bites before taking a large breath, clearly trying to calm down. He gently places the ice against Tim's cheek, staring at him with such tender worry Tim can't help but feel butterflies. "You don't have to apologize for getting roughed up. Never. Okay?"

Tim nods, shyly looking away as his stomach is rapidly overrun by even more butterflies. "Okay."

"Come home with me." Danny suddenly blurts as if the words were forced out of him. He looked just as surprised by them as Tim was.

"What?"

"Just for tonight. Just so I know you're safe." Danny all but pleas, and Tim- well, Tim has never been known to be strong enough to resist his impulses. Sure, the family might worry, but he can send them a message claiming to be undercover, and frankly- it's been so long since Tim's had a break.

He's always wanted to know more about Danny outside his food truck. He hadn't been able to find much on him. Tim is a detective by heart. He wants to know everything there is to know about Danny Fenton.

"I can leave when I want." He says, as Danny carefully places a warm hand on his other cheek. "And I sleep in my own space. No bed sharing. I also want to take a shower but I don't have anything to sleep in."

"You can borrow something of mine/ Whatever you need." The words are practically a warm hug, and Tim feels relaxed. Already the shitty week feels less terrible, and he finds himself growing bold enough to take an obvious sniff of the air.

"Can I have a burger?"

There is a hint of an amused smile, but it does not cover up the worry. "Of course you can."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The shower is running in Danny's house.

It's a bit out of the way, about a forty-minute drive outside of Gotham limits, but it's spacious and private, just the way Danny liked it.

Ever since he inherited his title, he's found this house on the list of properties, and that was why he chose to take Gotham by storm in his little truck.

Danny isn't really sure what the story of the property was- the suspects the place was built around the same time Gotham got its curse; seeing as it was overseeing the city and had enough natural ectoplasm in the air, he would suspect the curse affecting the town lead to here. He never cared to check.

No, rather Danny had some ghosts remodel the old building to include wiring and functioning plumbing but asked that the general overall of the mansion stay the same.

He sort of like pretending to be a Lord of the Oldden days. If anyone asked if he walked around acting out old romances of the Victorian era, that was not else business but his own.

Alvin was undoubtedly impressed when they pulled up to his house. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so prideful to have the handsome man be impressed with his mansion given the circumstances.

He seemed to accept the excuse of having been willed the house by his late grandfather. He just hoped Alvin didn't think him the same as his wealthy clients.

Speaking of, he better make the call before Alvin finished.

Stepping to his balcony, he pulled out his burner phone and pressed the speed dial five. There are four rings before the call connects.

He gets no greeting, but he's not expecting one. Danny looks over his shoulder to ensure the bathroom door is connected to the master room- his bedroom, where Alvin will be staying, seeing as it has a bigger fireplace. He needs to have them install a heating system. Danny never bothered, what with his ice core and all- before he spoke.

"Hey, Red Hood, it's Danny. I'm calling in that favor."

There is a long pause before the other man grunts. "What is it?"

"My friend is a pro whose pimp or johns have been abusing lately. Can you help me....take care of the issue? I don't want to overstep in his life, but I'm pretty sure they broke his check bone tonight, and he claimed to have had worse before." Danny sighs, his stomach overturning at what that could mean. He hasn't gone out as Ghost King to show those assholes a thing or two because this isn't his haunt.

It's Red Hood's.

Danny had met the other man when a rouge attack had busted up all the main highways he usually worked in and had no choice but to try to sell in Crime Alley. He was right off the territory's edge, freaking out about entering without the main ghost's permission, until Red Hood confronted him.

Danny's frantic fretting had been suspicious enough that the main honcho had gone to find out why he was so nervous.

They worked a deal where Danny would sell his ware in peace, and as long as he let kids eat for free, Red Hood had no quarrels with him. He even got a favor from the crime lord after Danny provided free meals to some of his men's families struggling to get food a few months back.

He also allowed Hood to use his house as a safe house to hide a few people who needed to be out of the city. Is he part of Red Hood's gang? No.

Is he an alley? Yes.

Danny had been saving the favor for such an occasion.

There is silence on Hood's side, so Danny goes in for the kill. "My friend is seventeen; in a few months, he'll be eighteen, but he said he has been doing this since he was younger."

The silence is now laced with malice. If there was one thing they both agreed on it was that kids were never meant to be hurt by the scum of the city. "Give me his name and the area he usually works in."

"Alvin Draper. He changes per night, but I've often seen him on the east side of Crime Alley."

"I'll look into it. Is Alvin safe?"

"Yeah, he's going to be staying with me tonight. Don't come by until I convince him to extend his stay." Danny knows Hood will understand. This is one of many pros to see the Zone- his mansion's name- as a sanctuary.

"That's fine. Can you get me a picture of Alvin?"

"No, he's too skimmish."

Hood grunts again, his voice coming out tired despite the voice monitor. "Kids always are. I'll have my boys find Alvin's primp and johns. Ensure there aren't any other younglings before they make them swim with the fish."

Danny almost falls over in relief. "Thank you. Alvin...Alvin means a lot to me."

" Don't mention it. Stay well, Victorian."

Victorian is the code name Hood has given him to ensure Danny isn't tired of his gang. Yes, it's because his house is a Victorian mansion, but Danny also likes to think it's cause the other man appreciates the aesthetics of his house a little too much.

He once caught Hood admiring his Pride and Prejudice hardcover book displayed in his green sitting room.

"You too Hood. And thank you."

How would he convince Alvin that his house was a better place to call home than the orphanage and street corners without coming off as a wannabe savior or hopelessly in love creep?

Danny pauses at his own train of thought.

Hopelessly in love? He thinks in shock as the bathroom door swings open, and out comes Alvin, dressed in Danny's extra pajama set. He offers Danny a shy smile; even with the injuries, it is the loveliest sight he's ever seen, and- oh no, Danny is in love with him.

"You up for a late-night snack?" He asks, trying to not show the world-shattering realization on his face, and Alvin's smile grows wider.

"You're going to make me fat." The other laughs. Danny's heart skips a beat.

Danny Fenton loves Alvin Draper and will do everything he can to protect him. Even if Alvin will hate him for it.

[bloodsbane]

what i love about laios is that he's actually very good at putting puzzle pieces together BUT HERE'S THE THING 1) he needs to HAVE the information, and 2) (this is important) he needs to KNOW it is information he should care about

and i think this could be said of anyone but the thing with laios is that people tend to view his lack of awareness wrt social etiquette and memory problems as pure indifference and/or obliviousness; sometimes they misinterpret his motives based on their inaccurate expectations of him and therefore don't give his thoughts on a subject the credit he deserves

one of the most obvious examples of this happens at least twice in the manga as i remember it, but the most recent incident was when they were trying to resurrect falin. there's a moment where laios mentions reconstructing both of the warg skeletons, as their bones are mixed in with hers. both chilchuck and senshi balk at this, with chilchuck complaining aloud, questioning laios' priorities,

and laios quickly, angrily retorts. his reason for making the suggestion is perfectly logical and practical, but because his friends are used to his interest in monsters influencing his judgement, often in ways they see as frivolous or dangerous, they don't come to the same conclusion. one which i'd argue is kind of obvious considering the situation

we see it again during his fight with toshiro, where toshiro demands to know what laios plans to do to save falin. laios takes a minute to answer, but he DOES answer, following the logic that if falin is a chimera because of (and controlled by) the mad mage, then the logical next step is to confront/defeat/usurp them

then in the following episode, when chilchuck brings it up again, laios explains what he (now) knows about thistle, mentioning that he's the same elf that laios saw in the living paintings, which is why he knows thistle's connection to delgal. the party reacts like this:

i'd say this is an example of them feeling frustration over laios' habit of having 'bad timing', not knowing when or how to speak at appropriate moments. theyre judging him for not saying something earlier, as if he already knew all this but didn't think to mention it when it was relevant, when the reality is that laios only just now had all the pieces he needed to understand the full picture

and i mention this bit specifically because i think it's a great way to explain what i mean by point 2: laios needs to know when information is important and worth considering

which, again, feels fucking obvious. but as someone who ALSO has debilitating issues with remembering important shit, i find this particular element of it pretty relatable and critical to my overall point. it's not laios' fault that he didn't know who thistle was or his significance - why the hell would he assume that a person he met in a living painting, presumably long since dead in reality, should be someone who's face, name, or motives he keeps in mind?

ultimately, i guess what i'm trying to say with all this is that the way others treat laios' intelligence is not congruent to how actually smart he is. one of the things i love most about laios, what is possibly his biggest strength and the reason he is such a great protagonist, is that laios is willing to think things through and find the most logical conclusion to a problem, no matter how outlandish or dangerous or seemingly impossible that conclusion may be. sister got eaten? race back down to go get her. can't afford food? fight, defeat, and eat dangerous monsters. sister's fully digested? use black magic to bring her back. now she's a chimera? defeat the mage controlling her and use that power to fix it.

anyways. what was even my point with this post? i guess it is that laios is smart, at least as smart as anyone else in the cast, arguably smarter than some. he is intelligent and utilizes that intelligence in many ways, not JUST when it comes to monster info (though that is his best and sexiest brand of knowledge)

and also please be nice to your friends with memory problems. it's rough out here for forgetful bitches

[bountycancelled]

ANTIFRAGILE

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opla zoro x reader

in which, even though it doesn't seem like it, zoro cares (alot, about you, specifically)

genre: one shot, gn! reader, short

requested: yes! tysm (reqs are still open for anyone<3)

a/n: idk, enjoy I guess? (unedited)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

"need any help, darling?" Sanji's flirtatious voice rang out from behind you, disturbing your damn near embarrassing attempts at lifting a box.

you huffed as you dropped it once again, turning to face Sanji as you shrugged him off with a wave of your hand. "no no, I wouldn't want you using your hands for something that isn't in the kitchen. I can manage."

an unconvinced Sanji nodded before walking off, leaving you and your own stubbornness to deal with the heavy lifting. the truth of the matter was, that you definitely did need help, but you'd be dammed to hell before accepting any.

it seemed as if you had some sort of problem accepting yourself for who you were.

you were by far the most stealthy individual anyone had ever met, most people didn't even know you were in the room until you had a knife to their throat. you were the resident idea person in high pressure situations, and what you lacked in strength, you made up for in technique.

ah yes, strength. if there was one thing that you could not accept that you didn't have, it was physical strength. you were never the type to brute force your way out of a situation zoro-style, bit it would still be nice to have the option of doing so.

it wasn’t as if anybody in the crew made you feel bad for your lack of strength, it was more so an internal issue within your own psyche.

what could you say? you were tired of having to ask your fellow crew mates to help you do something as simple as carrying something from point A to point B. you were tired of feeling useless every time more hands on approach was needed. but that all ended today. (well, you hoped that it all ended today anyway)

after what felt like and probably was an eternity you could finally lift the box that you had set your eyes on, sure you had taken so long that Luffy had forgotten that he even wanted it but you had done it nonetheless and you were proud of yourself. that pride however was short lived with your body ache in a way that you never thought possible.

you knew, or at the very least, you thought that you knew how much your body could take, but said body had no problem humbling you the second you had gotten a little too confident in skills that you didn't have.

you weakly limped towards your room, ignoring the sympathetic look from Sanji, the "you shouldn't have done that but I still feel bad" look from Nami, the soft pat on your back from usopp, Luffy not even noticing your current state, and Zoro's blank cold stare with what you could only hope bubbled with a bit of concern.

you would be lying if you said that you weren't trying to impress a certain green haired individual on the crew with a knack for using swords in unconventional ways. but your little schoolgirl crush was getting to the point where it was causing you physical pain, and you needed to get your mind out of its delusion.

Zoro was not going to give you attention just because you lifted a heavy bo–

your self chastising session was ended prematurely by a knock in the door, that kind of sounded like an alien life form trying to imitate a human custom. you let out a small 'come in', not being entirely suprised to see Zoro on the other side. (after all, he's the only in the crew who would care or even think to knock.)

what you were suprised to see however, was the plate of food in his hand. it was your favourite dinner which he had threatened Sanji to make which he placed on your desk, walking out just as quickly as he came.

before he left, he looked at you over his shoulder, seemingly contemplating if he should say what he wanted to say.

"you shouldn't push yourself to do something that's dangerous for you body. you're... more talented than you give yourself credit for."

you smiled to yourself, unable to not feel the butterflies floating around in your stomach, but his last words sent you over the edge.

"I don't want to see you hurting. ever."

[carlyraejepsans]

Rate UT characters on likely they are to eat spoiled food

premise: as monster food does not spoil, this speculation is based on how i think they'd treat human food in the post pacifist ending

frisk. trash burger. enough said. (also i hc that they grew up on the streets, so... not a lot of chances to be picky with your food.)

sans. second most likely. there's milk in the fridge bought specifically for him to drink out of the carton whenever frisk's or papyrus' friends come to visit, like a stereotypical disney channel older brother (he loves being annoying on purpose). it's been there for a month. he's still not done with it. it's probably rancid. enjoyer of food and lover of even shittier food. mr worst burger on the menu. he is ESPECIALLY gross about food and he is gross about it on purpose, he will peel an apple for papyrus and then take a bite out of it before cutting him a slice. and then call him a wuss when he acts disgusted. ("stop being a baby bones, we have the same germs anyway" "NO WE DON'T. *YOU* HAVE GERMS! AND I DON'T WANT ANY OF THEM!!" "why? they're pedigreed" "OUGH!?!!"). he mostly uses it as a chance to make a gag (or a lack of gagging, lol) but his strong stomach did also come in handy in the early days of papyrus' interest in cooking

mettaton, of sequins-and-glue hamburgers fame. he's technically tied for 2nd place with sans, but i put him in third because i feel like sans does it on purpose, for mettaton it's more like... a side effect of starting life off as a ghost. few people question it since he's a robot now.

alphys. she doesn't go out of her way to do it, but she buys her snacks in industrial pallet-fuls to reduce social interactions to a minimum, so by the time she reaches the last 3 or 4 packets of blue takis, they're well past their expiration date. not that it stops her. now, this wouldn't happen on the surface because she gets better and has a solid support system, but if monster food could spoil back when she was going Through it with the amalgamates, i feel like she'd either be too depressed or tired to care and eat it, or she'd tumble into a "g-god. you can't even take care of your own f-food. is there anything you can't fuck up" self-deprecation spiral and lose her appetite altogether

flowey. did it to see what would happen. nothing did. never did it again. tbh I just don't think he eats much of anything, spoiled or not.

undyne. getting into the "wouldn't eat spoiled food" tier. she actually thinks it's really gross but papyrus tricks her into doing it by challenging her machismo. she gets SO sick from it. they do this aprox 3 times a month. rinse and repeat

asgore. he's a gardener, and i can see him working in a community garden on the surface, so he'd have access to a lot of fresh produce, for both himself and to give away. however, if some of it were to go bad, he'd probably cut off the affected bit and eat the rest so it doesn't go to waste.

toriel. she is SUPER careful about expiration dates and mold and checks to make sure all she owns is still safe to eat almost weekly. this level of care, however, is mostly meant for other people, not herself, but she would really rather not eat anything that's gone bad. same reasoning as alphys', IF monster food could spoil when she was still in the RUINs, i could technically see her biting the bullet, if only because 1) she was also heavily depressed and struggling to take care of herself, though i think she might sooner skip out on the meal altogether, rather than eat something spoiled, and 2) the awkward stares from the other monsters in the RUINs supermarket might not be something she's willing to deal with on any given day.

papyrus. he would NOT. no way. master of cleaning, germophobe extraordinaire papyrus (well, not really, but he plays the part). if toriel is meticulous, papyrus is obsessive. there better not be a SINGLE spot on his food. and no lines or plaid patterns either!! he WILL wash it untill it goes away. with soap probably. canonically a picky eater to begin with (his picks are just weird as balls). can should and WILL get on sans' ass about his unhealthy eating habits, and that includes eating food that's gone bad.

[spdrvyn]

parched P2 — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( here's the part 2 that i mentioned in the last one !! this isn't explicit, however it is steamy, legally i shouldn't be writing explicit stuff anyway so sorry to the horny horny miguel fans out there. spoiler-free as usual ))

READ PART 1 HERE.

Whatever Miguel couldn't say in words, he'd express in actions.

He's always been like that, when you first met him, when you first started falling in love with him, when you first started dating him. Right now, it was when he was on top of you. Whispering sweet nothings into your ear, kissing every inch of you.

You were well aware of the fact that he's lacked such a gentle, loving touch for most if not all of his life. After all, he didn't seem like the biggest sap when you two were only knew each other as acquaintances.

He kept to himself most of the time when he was with you, he didn't normally engage in it unless you initiated it first. A hand at his bicep, his shoulder, his cheek.

Oh, how badly he wanted to hide that he needed it. Needed you.

Slowly but surely, he started feeling comfortable laying more than a single finger on you. Whenever he walked you home, a hand at the small of your back. Wiping stray bits of food on your mouth whenever you ate lunch together. The little things, it drove you crazy.

Your chest swelled with pride at the thoght of how far he's come, letting his guard down around you.

Not forgetting that ever since he finished 'getting fixed up', he was all over you. Smothering you with kisses, letting you sink further and further into the sheets and pillows.

"Missed this, missed you so much, amor." He uttered, his hand tangled in your hair. Tugging on it occasionally to pull you closer and closer to him, as if you weren't already. "Don't even want to think about what it was like out there. Dios, se sentía como el infierno."

At this point, you had a hard time telling if something really bad happened at work or if this is just him being needy. However, you didn't want to pry. It was clear that he was enjoying himself.

Really enjoying himself from how, once again, you felt something sharp sink into the crook between your shoulder and neck. Wincing, you whine at him. He revels in it.

"Not even one hour has passed of coming home to me and you're already trying to leave a mark." You pout, as to which he responds with a wolfish grin. "Sorry, sorry. Just can't help it sometimes. You're delectable."

Fangs really weren't something that you thought that you'd be into. Not like you've really encountered anyone with fangs in your life, Miguel was the first one. The first time you cracked a joke with him, he laughed. You got a glimpse of the canines that peeked through his gums, yet it didn't terrify you. As shameful as he used to be of them when he revealed his occupation to you.

Now, it felt like he used them daily, on you to be more specific. Like you were a staple and he was a stapler remover, which was silly but an accurate description of what it was like.

As he normally does, he decides to rub it in.

"But at the same time, don't act like you don't enjoy them. I can basically see the look on your face whenever I leave one. On your neck."

He punctured the skin, a little to draw blood. Which made you gasp, moving to scold him until he holds your arm down. Cutting you off.

"Your shoulder."

He moves down, kissing you as he does so. Before he bites down again, a little harder. Rougher this time.

"Your thighs."

The thumping of your heart is drumming in your ears as he hooks your thighs over his shoulders, massaging the soft flesh with his fingers before leaving two very prominent bite marks on them now.

He licks the blood clean off of his lips, coming back up to you with a smirk. His thumb caresses your chin as you stare at him. "Ah, that face. That's the one I'm talking about, mi vida."

You still have no idea what he's saying, before you could even delve deeper into it. He captures your lips with a soft chuckle.

Guess you'll never know.

[kscheibles]

christmas break (college bf! au)

content warnings: f! reader, fluff, smut, oral sex f! receiving, gagging

word count: 2.4k

a/n: merry christmas from your sweet boyfriend who also doms you :)

You watch the minutes pass on your computer clock as you sit under the punishing fluorescent lights of the library. You’ve been done with your assignments for a half hour, but have dutifully decided to stay with Matty until he finishes researching his term paper. It’s some rumination on Sartre you don’t quite understand but you told Matty you’d keep him company and you intend to keep your word.

He’s been homesick all semester, you can just tell. He takes every opportunity to bemoan the lack of brown sauce in New England and show you photos of his family preparing for the holidays back home in Wilmslow. In an effort to make him feel better, you’d driven to a specialty food store to buy him the specific chocolates he’d been craving the most. A few weeks ago, you’d looked up flights to Manchester together, hoping that with a few tricks you’d learned from a friendly compsci acquaintance, you’d be able to score a deal. But Matty’s on work-study and can barely make enough money to cover his living expenses, let alone a transatlantic flight. It will be his first Christmas without his family, no matter how he spends it.

He slams the top of his laptop down suddenly, sighing dramatically as he does. You rub your boyfriend’s thigh in hollow reassurance. 

“You ready to head up?” he asks.

You nod. “Did you finish your research?”

“Fuck the research. I can’t focus, my Adderall has worn off anyway.”

“Okay,” you acquiesce, beginning to pack your belongings into your bag. The air is thick with something unsaid. Matty would never try to make you feel bad, but your excitement for the winter holiday is not something he shares. It makes you apprehensive to broach the subject of even going on a date to the local light show. You can’t imagine that would make him feel better.

You both trudge up to your dorm, as is your ritual. Matty always follows you to your door and waits for you to take your backpack off so you can give him a proper hug before he heads home. You would sleep together if you could, but the stiff single beds you rent are hardly comfortable, let alone sexy. At your door, you set your things down and envelop Matty between cold, brittle arms, squeezing him gently so hopefully he knows you care.

“I was thinking,” you start, pulling away to look in his eyes, “We have room for a guest at my house. I think my parents would be okay with you staying over the holidays as long as you take the spare bedroom. Would you like that? I know it’s not home home and my parents will definitely try to suss you out, but there will be warm food and Christmas traditions and–”

Matty cuts you off with a soft kiss on your lips. “I’d love to stay with your family, babe.”

Your face breaks into a grin. You nod slowly.

“Okay. Okay, then it’s decided. I’ll get them to cave.”

“My little meddler,” Matty beams, ruffling your hair. You catch his hands and move them off, smoothing your hair down. 

“I’m their only daughter and they haven’t seen me in months,” you shrug.

“I love you,” he says, seriously.

You fall into his chest and smile, “I love you, too.”

-

It feels weird dragging your carry-on luggage up the pathway to the home that used to be yours. You have Matty in tow whereas the last time you lived here, you had never met him before. You’re transformed, yet when you put your key in the lock and step across the threshold, you feel like the same girl who lived there for eighteen years. You feel like a child again somehow.

“Mom, Dad! Matty and I are here!” you shout out. Your mom comes scurrying from the kitchen. 

“Hi, how are you?” she asks you as she pulls you into a hug, rubbing your shoulders, “I thought you were supposed to have stopped growing. Harold, get in here, she’s grown three inches!” 

You shake your head, chuckling. Your mom opens her arms warmly and holds Matty in a welcome hug.

“I’m Carol, nice to meet you,” she says.

Matty introduces himself as your dad shuffles into the entryway. 

“Ah, there she is! I had a work call that ran long, shutting down for the holidays it can be a lot,” he leans down to hug you, “We missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” you sigh, “Especially missed your cooking.”

“Speaking of, I’m making Papa’s chicken tonight!” your dad exclaims, “Matty, I hope you aren’t a picky eater because we’ve planned a whole spread to welcome our girl back.” Your dad reaches out, offering his hand to Matty as he speaks.

“Not at all, sir,” Matty replies.

“Good then,” your dad states, “Why don’t I show you to your room, Matty? Let our girl get settled.”

 You give Matty an apologetic look and head over towards the opposite side of the house and to your old room. It’s been preserved in its perfect adolescent state of whimsy, but something isn’t right. It's weird that it used to hold all of your clothes, all the evidence of your accomplishments, all your turbulent, hormonal emotions and now it’s like a movie set or a museum exhibit. Or an archeological site. Your bed is made with a childhood favorite stuffed animal in the middle against the pillows. You pick her up and give her a quick hug, she smells like home. You used to not be able to smell it because you smelled like home, too.

You take care unpacking your clothes, meticulously folding your sweaters and jeans, and placing them in your dresser. You open the windows to rid the place of the smell of nostalgia and then head back to the kitchen nook, where Matty is talking to your mom. You put on a brave face and massage Matty’s shoulders sweetly before sitting down with them. 

-

When everyone’s departed to their separate rooms at night, you take an extra-long time doing your evening routine. You press each serum and treatment into your skin extra carefully and brush each tooth individually. When you’re sure your parents will have fallen asleep, you tiptoe to the other side of the house and open Matty’s door. He’s tucked into bed, back against the pillows, and phone in his hand. It almost flies out when he recognizes you in the doorframe.

“Fuckin’ hell! Thought you were the grim reaper,” Matty whisper-shouts as you make your way to the bed and tuck yourself in next to him. His arm pulls you close to him on instinct.

“You alright?” he asks.

“Yeah, just missed you,” you whisper.

“Awwwwww,” he pouts condescendingly, “Well, I’d love to have you stay, but your dad might actually take me outside and shoot me if he found you in here.”

“Oh god, did he give you the talk?”

“Just a little, don’t worry about me,” he consoles, “I kind of respect it anyways. I’m sure I’ll be the same with our daughter one day.”

“Our daughter?” you ask, looking up at his eyes.

“Too much? My daughter then. I dunno I just… I get the protective instinct.”

“It’s not too much,” you tell him, leaning over him to kiss him on the lips, “Very cute and very appreciated.”

Matty smiles into your mouth and you move to sit on his lap, straddling him comfortably. 

“Well I really like your dad, too,” he says.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, he really loves you,” Matty states, rubbing circles onto your hip, “You can tell that everything he does is for you.” You get shy at that.

“It’s fine, you can call me spoiled.”

“Not spoiled if you deserve it,” he says. 

“I want you to spoil me,” you say into his ear, “Need you, baby.”

“Baby, I can’t, Harold will have my fuckin’ balls.” You giggle in response. 

“Will you just put it in, then? I’ll be so quiet, I promise,” you plead. You see a familiar glint in his eyes and feel him hardening under you. 

“One sound and I take it out, you understand?” he tuts.

You nod eagerly. “I understand.” You move his pajama pants down and take yours off, moving your panties to the side as you sink down onto him. You breathe wildly for a moment when you’ve taken him all the way. Your world is spinning. 

“You okay?” he asks. You nod, “C’mere.”

You fall into his chest, totally content, and start kissing his bare collarbone. You lay the side of your head on his shoulder and try to catch his eyes. He leans down and nips at your earlobe.

“Bein’ so good for me, baby,” the praise makes you squirm and you clench around him repeatedly, looking for some relief. “I can feel that,” he teases. You pout in response. Matty’s hands reach for the hem of your oversized nightshirt and lift it over your head, revealing your naked breasts to the cold night air. His hands cover them instantly and his head ducks down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. 

“Matty,” you warn. He responds by lapping his tongue all over you, sucking you more insistently. He bites gently at the sensitive bud, and you whine loudly, involuntarily.

“Shhhhh,” Matty tsks, looking up at you, “You don’t want me to stop do you?”

You shake your head back and forth so quickly you think it might fall off. Then it tips back; you look at the ceiling fan hoping the sight will ground you but it doesn’t. Your body is filled with pleasure and you have no outlet.

“Matty, can I move? Please? I promise I’ll still be quiet.” Matty huffs frustratedly and lifts you off of him harshly. You look at him sadly while he gets up to get out of bed. You reach for his hand as he does, feeling as though you might cry if he leaves you hanging. 

“Please, Matty, I didn’t know that talking counted. I need you!” you say as loudly as you comfortably can. His hand slips out of yours as he heads towards the closet and kneels down to rummage through his luggage, leaving you dripping on his sheets. When he turns around, he has a tie in his hands. 

“What’s that for?” you ask.

“Well I was gonna take you to a nice dinner while we were here,” he says playfully, “But now…” He taps your bottom lip, a command to open your mouth. When you do, he places the silky fabric on your tongue, looking into your eyes for permission as he ties a snug knot at the back of your head. “Need to shut you up if I’m gonna give you what you want. Would you like that? Gonna be a good girl and take it nice and quiet?”

You nod, drool already pooling in your mouth, soaking through the tie. Matty pushes you down so you’re flat on your back. You make grabby hands at him as soon as you’re down, still trying to be good. He smiles good-naturedly and takes his pants all the way off before moving on to you, removing your last stitch of clothing: a heart-printed pair of cotton underwear you’ve probably had since high school. He kneels before you – knowing he’s being watched closely – and slowly brings his mouth down between your legs, breathing all over you before licking a broad stripe up your soaking cunt. You gasp, trying to stay as quiet as possible as he starts to fuck you with his tongue; filling you and leaving you again. You grab his hair and try to maneuver him a bit higher to your clit. 

Matty takes the hint and starts working on you there, switching between flicking his tongue up and down and sucking at you. You can feel the pressure in your body building and you accidentally let out a moan. Matty stops for a second, looking up at you. You realize what you’ve done too late, slapping a hand to your mouth. Matty chuckles a little before leaning down again, thrusting two fingers into you. 

“Keep that hand over your mouth, okay, baby?” You nod, delirious from lack and need and anticipation. Matty’s mouth finds your clit once more, licking side to side and keeping in rhythm with his hand fucking in and out of you. You can feel your moans trying to escape on your hand as you begin to buck your hips in time with Matty’s assault on your pussy. You tug on his hair a little to catch his eyes and nod, silently communicating to him. Then he’s sucking on your clit and you’re a goner. You burst into flames as you cum, clenching his fingers as he works you through it until the pleasure feels like pain. You remove your hand from your mouth and gasp, pulling your boyfriend away from your tortured cunt. 

Matty kneels over you a second later, untying the gag, wiping your mouth gently, and pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Thought you were gonna fuck me,” you say playfully. 

“Greedy, greedy.”

“Not greedy, I just want you to feel good,” you tell him earnestly. Matty lifts the tie up so you can see the wet spot you left on it. 

“I’m gonna use this when you go to sleep don’t worry about me.”

“But I’m here now.”

“I know but I’m really quite scared of your dad,” he laughs a little as he says it, but you believe him.

“Okay,” you kiss him hard and long, “Goodnight.”

“G’night, baby.”

-

On Christmas morning, Matty knocks on your door before going to the living room. You beckon him in to sit on your bed, careful to leave the door open in case your parents wake up. You give him a quick kiss and then turn around to grab something from your dresser. 

“Close your eyes,” you tell him. Matty looks at you questioning but finally gives in. You place the item on his legs and indicate for him to look.

On his lap is a set of pajamas, matching ones that your whole family wears. 

“My mom gets them for all of us every Christmas, you don’t want to be caught without,” Matty is quiet, “Do you not like them?”

“I love them,” he says, pulling you into a hug, “I’m so grateful to your family for taking me in this Christmas. I felt like a bit of an orphan, to be honest.”

You hold his face in your hands. 

“You always have a place here, okay?”

“Okay,” he smiles shyly.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

[bubbipond]

Character-Driven Stories - We Are and Their "lack of plot"

From a literary and film perspective...It's a long one if you wanna read...(:

I keep seeing people say We Are and stories essentially like it have no plot and as someone who went to school for this, I have realized some people don't know the word's definition. The hate-on-slice-of-life type shows always perplexe me because there is this idea in media that if a show does not have high emotions or high stakes all of a sudden it lacks plot. A plot is just a matter of cause and effect. Something happens in a story that affects how the story is told. Whatever that plot is, affects the characters and provides substance for them to keep the story going.

What I think people mean when they say that a story lacks a plot is that it is more character-driven than plot-driven. Using We Are as an example, the characters drive the plot instead of the plot driving the characters. Take Game of Thrones as an example; the goal in the story is to see who will get to the Iron Throne (yes I know that there is far more to it but that's the general goal). So no matter what the characters do, that will always be where the series ends. The villains and protagonist will eventually rule and then the series is over. It's not character-driven because whether or not a character changes their mind or dies, the central plot is going to stay intact.

Then in media like We Are, the central focus is the characters and their decision making. If Phum decides he does not want to pursue Peem then their storyline ceases to exist because the plot can only move forward with his decision to keep exploring it. This is because there is no central goal for the character once they make a decision to stop. If We Are were to be plot-driven then there would be a conflict that needed to be resolved that drove the characters. Let's take Never Let Me Go as a plot-driven story PondPhuwin have done. In NLMG the plot that drives the characters are murder, attempted murder, and imprisonment. Nuengdiao's father dies then his mother is nearly killed, leading him to need to run away because now he is being hunted. Those things make or break the plot because there is nothing Nuengdiao or Palm can do while that is happening. Nuengdiao cannot live a normal life without finding out who is after him, ie, the major plot point.

In We Are the plot is centered around friends and the lives of their friend group. The plot moves when they do and when they make decisions. Stories like highly character-driven ones do not have a basic goal or obstacle as one in a plot-driven story would. Think of it as the action of a story being where the plot lies. The reason many slice-of-life-type stories get the, "it has no plot" comment is that they do not have specific actions, consequences, or occurrences that fall back onto a central theme. Many love stories that focus mainly on love tend to be character-driven, not all, but many do. The only action in these stories that moves the plot is the relationships progressing. When the relationships stay stagnant we tend to get the time in romcoms and romances where stories get boring because the only thing moving the story along is their evolving relationship.

It is essentially impossible to have a story without a plot unless your characters are in a room looking at a wall. Even then, I am sure someone could find a way to drive a plot in that scenario.

But anyway, just food for thought. Also, disregard any grammar or spelling mistakes, my phone's autocorrect only wants to correct me when I don't need it to, never when I do... Anyway, that is all I wanted to say about it! No hate to anyone that doesn't like this show or any other one I just hate seeing people say that's stuff.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for throwing out expired food from the family fridge?

I (17F) live with my dad (54M) and my mom (53F), but my mom works out of the country a lot. My dad is normal and seems to have a sense of shame(? for lack of a better word) when my mom's at home, but when she's working abroad, sometimes for months at a time, my dad kinda spirals. Necessary background is I'm also mildly immunocompromised.

When mom's home, he never does weird stuff, but once she's been gone for about 3 weeks, he starts getting weird.

He does things like cut mold chunks out of (soft) cheese and then put it back in the fridge, and once full on tried to convince me that so called 'live foods' like yogurt and kefir and tofu don't expire because 'they're already fermented' and putting expiration dates on them is either (when he's being more normal) a technicality/regulation or (when he's being weirder) a lie by Big Grocery™ to sell more food (for those who aren't familiar, live foods are fermented in specific ways with very specific bacteria, after they expire they go bad with things like mold just like any other food).

I've tried ignoring it and just not eating it, but it was making the other food in the fridge go bad faster and my dad started getting food poisoning symptoms, also my dad wouldn't buy new food if there was an expired one still in the fridge. Also, with things like the cheese, when he puts it back, I risk eating moldy food without realising it cuz there's no way to tell a mold chunk was cut out until I bite it and taste mold alos on multiple occasions, I've said I tasted mold in something and my dad has lied saying he didn't do this, only for me to see the moldy cheese trimmings in the garbage later when I'm throwing something away.

I've talked with my dad about this and it always goes something like this:

My dad: *drinks a pintglass of expired newman's own lemonaid*

*15 minutes later*

Dad: *coming back from the bathroom* I just had explosive diarrhea.

Me: You know how you drank a glass of expired lemona—

Dad: And it's delicious!

Me: Well, I'm just worried it's making you sick...

My dad: *5 minute rant about Big Grocery™*

Anyway, I started just throwing out the expired stuff, but he'd take it out of the garbage, even when there was something nasty on it, like used coffee grounds or 12 hour old egg shells dripping salmonella-y egg. So I started opening the containers of expired food and spilling them into the garbage bag (they're hefty bags, so it's not making a mess in the can) and sometimes I'd put a handfull of (clean/unused) cat litter into the bag too if it was something like bad produce (think limp carrots or slimey lettuce) so he couldn't just rince it and put it back.

Then I cleaned the fridge with bleach spray and now things aren't going moldy as fast and we have so much more room in there (I didn't get rid of anything but expired food, I wiped non-expired containers off with the bleach spray and put them back), also, my dad's stomach problems have stopped.

I still don't think I did anything wrong, since I know my mom would have done this the second she came home and my dad wouldn't have objected, but since I did it, he yelled at me for wasting money, called me a stooge to Big Grocery™ and compared me to his brother, who thinks leftovers go bad in the time it takes to drive home.

What are these acronyms?

[sir-adamus]

whenever i think of Ironwood's 'grand plan' after he gets spooked by a piece from a board game i always have to laugh because it was never gonna work, it was unsustainable from jump and only got progressively more unfeasible as volume 8 progressed

"we're going to use the staff to lift Atlas into the atmosphere where Grimm can't reach and leave everyone in Mantle to rot because if the poors didn't want to die they should've been born with money like the rest of us"

yeah cool bro, so given what we (finally) see of Atlas in volume 8 they've got some atmospheric control to accommodate for the temperature and presumably thinner air at the height Atlas is already floating at

and what powers that again? right, Dust. cos Dust powers everything

and you would have to assume that to maintain the current level of atmospheric control in a much higher altitude, that machinery would have to be cranked well the fuck up, which means more Dust is needed. and they can't mine for more because... they're up in the atmosphere, and their supply chain and underpaid exploited labourers got left to die on the ground

so power's gonna run out real fast and everyone's gonna suffocate and die slowly (guess Jimmy really wants to beat out Mountain Glenn on 'World's Largest Tomb')

but let's say by some miracle they do last longer than a week up there - food's gonna run out and they're not gonna be able to keep up supply and demand because they can't import any, supply chain is gone and they abandoned the rest of the planet to die to Salem. hell, water is gonna run out

and then the most ridiculous argument for the plan "Grimm can't fly that high". cos like. no. Grimm don't fly that high, because they don't need to. none of y'all were up there. just like none of y'all lived in the snowy tundras of the north so there weren't Grimm up there. until there were - funny how that works. and Salem's specifically been shown to be able to alter the Grimm without much issue - this wouldn't be a "one day the Grimm will adapt and fly that high" it's "give Salem maybe an hour and she'll make something that can get that high"

so yeah, the whole plan is stupid and it's basically just handing Salem the Staff because all she would have to do is wait out everyone dying from lack of air and then just going up there and taking the damn thing (and then dropping Atlas and causing mass devastation on a global scale)

and then volume 8 makes it worse - the shields go down and Monstra gets parked on Atlas. the plan was dead right there, she's already on the goddamn rock my dude - if you lift the rock now then she's still going to be on it and you will die even faster than you were already going to; like even after Oscar blew up Monstra and Salem was reforming, The Coward in Chief wasn't making any effort to scrape her off the side of Atlas before leaving, he just went back to making threats (which included the baffling logic of "Penny, unless you give yourself up now, i am going to blow up Mantle, and then you won't have any reason to not do what i say anymore anyway" as if Penny wouldn't have justifiable reason to decapitate him for doing that)

'the great general Ironwood' who grew up and came into power in peace time - strategically unsound, incapable of taking criticism and dumber than a bag of hammers

what a hero

[ohmytyong]

mark me in your heart [teaser]

PAIRING: drug dealer!mark x bartender!reader

GENRE: angst, smut, kinda friends with benefits au, bartender!renjun, best friend!renjun, action au

TEASER WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol, explicit scene of drug use, use of pet names

WC: tba (TEASER WC: 1,2k)

‣[PLAYLIST]: 505 by arctic monkeys, bad omens by 5 seconds of summer, slow down by chase atlantic, why do you only call me when you're high? by arctic monkeys, a little death by the neighborhood, okay by chase atlantic

SUMMARY: when a sensitive and broken heart meets another one of the same nature, their instinctive reaction is to seek comfort in each other, and in order to heal themselves, they both need to be equally strong and willing to put all their broken pieces back together. but sometimes, some hearts aren't strong enough to be saved; the only way to save them is if the stronger heart of the two is willing to take the risk and try for the both of them, whatever it takes.

A/N: i forgot how long i've had this idea sitting in my drafts. i think it's time it saw the light of day and i think it's better if i share this with you

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“Hey Renjun, pass me that glass” you said as you wiped the thick tall glass completely dry before you put it back on the shelf behind you. You were moving mechanically at this point, the exhaustion of the long night at the bar taking over your entire body. It was 5 in the morning and you had just barely managed to kick out some of the remaining drunk nobodies who were so wasted, that their toxic-infused brains couldn’t even give them the signals to move their own bodies.

Working at the bar wasn’t your dream job but it’s not as if you had a better choice. It was either a bartender or a stripper. Both of them sounded equally bad, so you decided to opt for the slightly better one. If you could even say it like that.

It wasn’t a particularly ideal job but it was enough to get you by. It earned you enough money to buy you food and pay the rent at the motel you were staying at, it got you as many free drinks as you needed to help your mind escape from all your worries and you also got to meet some relatively cool people, so that was somewhat good. The working hours weren’t such a big of an issue either, you couldn’t really sleep anyway. So you were fine with it.

Most nights, the bar usually closed at around 3 am. There wasn’t a set rule on this; it usually depended on how many customers there were and how much they were drinking. Your boss had suggested that you shouldn't keep the bar open all night long, so you kinda decided that it was best to close a few hours after midnight. You weren’t complaining about this though; the sooner it closed, the more time you’d have to get high with your co-worker Renjun at the alleyway behind the bar.

Unfortunately, tonight luck wasn’t on your side, as a group of friends kept on drinking more and more as the hours passed by, which meant that you and Renjun had to keep the bar open until later. You weren’t opposed to this idea, it only meant that you would earn a little bit more money. It was Renjun who started complaining, so he decided to take action into his own hands and practically dragged the drunks out of the bar.

This is how you ended up cleaning up the place this late, rather this early in the morning, with your co-worker. The two of you were too tired to speak, so neither of you made any efforts to spark up a conversation. You both just attended to your respective tasks, waiting for a specific somebody to show up.

Luck surely wasn’t on your side tonight. He would usually show up at around 3:30 am, right after the bar closed, and he would have all the stuff ready, just at the exact moment you needed it. Why was he late today?

It didn’t take a genius to understand that Renjun was clearly affected by the lack of the stuff. He moved around the place nervously, tugging at his hair and stomping his foot rhythmically. He was in a desperate need of it, and you would honestly lie to yourself if you said you didn’t need it half as much as Renjun did.

You put the last clean glass on the shelf behind you and went over to the storage room to grab a broom, so that you could clean the floor a bit while Renjun was still wiping the bar counters. As soon as you closed the door of the storage room, the little bell that hung above the bar’s front door rang with a tinkle and soon after it followed the sound of the so familiar footsteps you were waiting for all night.

“Hey kids, Santa’s here,” his voice resonated in the empty room as he waved a small transparent plastic bag that looked white because of its content. Renjun threw the handkerchief he was holding to the other side of the counter and dramatically jumped over it to go and hug the male who just entered. All of that just at the sight of the clear plastic bag with the snowy content.

“Mark, what took you so long my guy, I’m literally a dead man walking! Give this beauty to me,” Renjun exclaimed and snatched the plastic bag straight out of Mark’s hand. Mark smirked at what Renjun said and immediately started grinning at the sight of the boy’s eagerness.

Renjun went to sit on the bar stool closer to him and placed the bag on top of the counter he had just wiped clean. With slender fingers, he opened the plastic bag and dredged some of the content on the counter. With nervousness in his movements, he set the bag aside and shuffled through his back pocket to find his ID card. He started scattering the white dust all over the counter before he gathered all of it in a straight line with the help of his ID card. When he was satisfied with the result, he put his ID card back into his pocket, lowered his head to the level that his nose touched the cold surface of the counter, took a deep breath and snorted the entire line of crack, the product going straight up into his nostrils.

Renjun blinked several times before he slowly lifted his head. He scrunched his nose and wiped it with the back of his hand, his drowsy eyes looking surprisingly bright considering his state. “Man, whoever hasn’t done crack, never, they haven’t known the beauty of life yet” he chuckled. Mark smirked at Renjun’s comment and you couldn’t help but shake your head amusingly, a small smile creeping up at your face.

Renjun took the plastic bag with the rest of the cocaine and put it in his pocket. “This baby’s for me, thank you,” he amused and turned his heel towards the storage room. “Don’t come look for me, I’ll be right here. If I take too long to come out, then you should be concerned,” he said and closed the storage room door behind him; a scene that was surprisingly quite familiar to you.

You then set the broom down and walked towards Mark. “Hey” you whispered and Mark greeted you back in a low husky voice. “What took you so long? We were expecting you to come earlier” you asked him.

Mark shrugged and leaned his elbow against the counter. “I came by at our usual meeting hour and saw that you guys were still open. I couldn’t risk anyone seeing me so I decided to drop by later,” he said and you nodded in understanding.

“You do have more of those plastic bags on you, don’t you?” you asked him and he chuckled. “Of course I do, pretty. Let’s go outside and treat ourselves a bit, shall we?” he suggested and you nodded again, walking beside him towards the alleyway behind the bar.

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

TAGS: @peachjaem00 @bbyyhyuck @vdollys @positionslab @matchahyuck @renjun-fairy @back2jisung @doieslefttoe @uwuheeseungie

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[autisticandroids]

are u a down to agincourt guy at all? i notice it’s not on any of ur rec lists (which is valid even if u do like it lmao it’s everywhere so there’s no need to let the people know about it) any chance ur a hater and want to let loose a little 👀

i mean, i'm not really a hater? i'm more an ambivalent.

first of all, to be clear, i've only read map of the world. i tapped out after that, partly because i just wasn't that into it but mostly because there was some unspeakably stupid stuff about godstiel at the end and i was in my sensitive era about godstiel things.

i also tapped out because i had heard some rather withering reviews from two friends who both tried it and had the same reaction, which is that the narrative of dta lacks tension and forward-movement. i, having only read map of the world, agreed with this, because that's certainly true of map of the world. most notably, it's true that dta actively removes tension by taking the basic premise of the story - that cas' dean and dean's cas are both gone - and just.... removing as much friction from that as possible. endverse cas and endverse dean, in dta, had so little positive relationship that seperis had to invent a way of being soulmates (also. cinemasins ding. i hate soulmates. partly for exactly this reason: they're a copout in terms of the messy and therefore narratively interesting work of relationship building) in order to justify why cas was attached to dean. dean seems perfectly happy to stay where he is and is not panicking about losing his sammy at all, samlucifer haunting him in the white suit doesn't even bother him that much! and he's actively happy to start over with a different cas, because he comes from a post-godstiel time and doesn't like his cas anymore.

personally i really disliked the whole dean and godstiel element for obvious reasons, not least because it annoys me that seperis chose to portray dean as *afraid* of godstiel and not just. enraged at him. however i think the much bigger problem, narratively, is the lack of love lost between endverse cas and endverse dean.

the first reason for this is pretty simple. dta dean is not my little guy and he has no relation to my little guy. he's a nice dude for cas to glom onto. and this isn't a crime, generally speaking fics will do this to one or the other of the dudes, and i'm happy to see it done to dean instead of cas for a change. but it means that dean's characterization doesn't matter as much.

the second reason is that dean didn't just lose cas, he lost literally his whole world. his entire timeline. and he should be upset about that, not cas in specific. i would still say he's insufficiently upset, but it's not as specific and personal.

but like.... if dta is about anything, it's about dta cas. and that means the tensions at the heart of cas' character matter. and he should have WAY more trouble slotting new dean into his life!!! like, the reason for thing #2 on this list is basically just me vagueing dta. in canon, the point of divergence for endverse is ftbyam. when cas and dean already have an intense, close, and sweet relationship. it's soured by the time endverse rolls around, but there was something to sour, inititally! and like to me it's also an excuse to like. use the classic deancas trope of having dean give cas a bunch of mundane firsts that he receives with childlike wonder. like in dta dean teaches cas to enjoy food. and like, that's against the spirit! of endverse cas! the point is that he's already HAD all those experiences with another dean but then things went sour!!!! AUGH.

anyway. making endverse dean Just A Bastard With No Redeeming qualities is like. a serious copout. imo. and it's symptomatic of a broader aversion to conflict and therefore a broader aversion to tension and movement and change. and so what you end up with, (again in map of the world at least, but from other people's reviews i suspect the rest remains the same), is a hundred thousand words of portraiture. it's beautiful, and it's lovingly painted. but it's not a story, because nothing happens in it or is being set up to happen.

but also, i wanna be clear. i REALLY liked elements of the portraiture. i think generally speaking people in fandom get their heads easily turned by pretty prose. like if the story is poetic at a paragraph level, they will give it wildly undue credit. but dta's prose really worked for me in a way a lot of other celebrated poetic fics' prose doesn't. like the density of it really adds something meaningful to the story i think. as a character portrait for cas, it really pulls you in.

and the cas characterization is so..... like it's so powerful, to me. for me i think it's more a characterization for canon cas than for endverse cas but also endverse cas is just canon cas with a few different experiences so like it still completely works. like i love the cas stuff.

the magic worldbuilding is like awesome to me. the thing about me is i love a magic system. i will risk it all for a good magic system. one time i was like, to my friend who liked dta, hey is seperis a programmer? and they were like yeah. and i was like yeah i figured. anyway. magic system <3.

and then also i like that endverse cas Lives In A Society. i like all the ocs and the relationships and the history. i wish that was more consistent, like i wish the endverse cas on the page felt more like he was situated in his history, rather than a new man born into his circumstances (so for example, i like that dta cas Quit Every Drug immediately at the start because endverse fic is so weird about drugs so not touching them is a nice choice imo, but it's also a symptom of this disconnect: cas is not weighed down by old habits and old wounds the way he should be. he's not stuck in place. and like that's the POINT of endverse cas: that he has history. and dta cas feels disconnected from that. and this is also wrapped in with my main criticism of how endverse dean and endverse deancas is handled). but i still like that he lives in a society and i think over the course of map of the world seperis becomes a little better at situating cas in a history in small ways instead of disconnecting him.

anyway in the end, dta is simply not my bag, and this is why. but i also get why people like it, because i also like parts of it.

[somethin-human]

*cough* aNYwAy!

Sam headcanons 🤠

As mentioned before, he was gifted a frog Build A Bear by one of the Shaw Pack mates. It’s name is Sammy and he has a little cowboy hat.

He has one (1) cowboy hat but he never wears it. He only has it because Vincent gifted it to him for some reason when they were first getting to know each other.

Before Darlin’ came into the picture, he had a pet dog.

He hates doing his weekly drink of blood because he thinks it’s gross so he has a little “fun” with it and uses a shot glass instead of drinking it from a bag.

Although vampires don’t need actual food to survive, he still has meals with Darlin’ so they don’t feel lonely or so that he makes sure they’re eating properly. He also just really likes the taste of his own cooking.

He’s very “traditional” when it comes to relationships. Like, when he met Darlin’, he felt the need to meet their family. Obviously we don’t really know much about Darlin’ family so the Shaw Pack was the next best thing.

His cabin doesn’t feel as southern as his vibes set out to be. Darlin’ was really surprised to see the lack of taxidermy and animal skulls hung up on his wall.

Addition to home decor, he has a lot of fake plants because this man has no idea how tf to keep a plant alive to save his life, but he wants his home to feel alive in a way.

He doesn’t own a lot of sweaters, but he does have a SH*T ton of flannels. Like a very very concerning amount of them.

I could be wrong but I think I remember seeing on the timeline that Sam didn’t have a good home life growing up. When he left, he did take a photo of his family because he genuinely does miss them in a way, but would never come to visit (nor could he because he’s a vampire and all that).

When him and Darlin’ moved in together, he thought about getting a dog, but when Darlin’s wolf fur started getting everywhere, he decided to pass on it.

He’s deathly afraid of chickens.

He’s thought about wanting kids but after having to take care of Darlin’, he doesn’t feel the need to anymore lmao.

He has a picture of his first party (whatever the vampire party was called) with the clan. He absolutely hates seeing himself in a suit, but Darlin’ loves it and thinks he looks “very pretty”, in their words.

He sleeps on his stomach. Whenever he wakes up, he’s always super sprawled out, the blanket isn’t even on him anymore.

I’m pretty sure this is already canon, but his favorite season is autumn/fall. He just likes the colors and how it’s not really as sunny outside so he’s able to sit on his porch during the day.

Sam can sing. Like really well. The first time he actually sung around people was during a little meet up with the Shaw Pack and they did Karaoke. He sung River by BRKN LOVE, as Darlin’ requested and they absolutely fell more in love with him.

I feel like Darlin’ also got him into Hozier but the only songs he religiously listens to is Would That I, Like Real People Do, and Cherry Wine (but specifically the live version).

He HATES dancing. Absolutely hates it. The most he’ll do is tap his foot or sway a little bit.

Definitely gives the absolute best hugs. He’s a tall, little bit chonky guy. He gives the most perfect bear hugs.

Also because he’s not an actual prince, but is a duke of the Solaire Clan, William got him a custom made broach. He’s very grateful for it and never wears it. He leaves it in the box on his dresser with his other important trinkets and photos.

He has a box full of random stuff that Darlin’ has collected over the years from the forest.

[jacksprostate]

Can you talk about how fight club is the story of a deeply closedeted gay man the wake of the aids crisis? How do his anxieties about hiv manifest?

yeah sure! i feel like i've talked about it in bits and pieces in a few different posts which I'll link here but I'll also type up a little summary. Not operating on 100% so forgive me if it's a bit all over the place.

On the narrator and Marla wrt sexuality

On the Lou scene of the movie

The central obvious joke yet not really comparison

Anyway so. I'm going to focus on the book as always but lots still generally applies to the movie and in the above links you can see a bit about the Lou scene from the movie if that's your interest.

So first I think it's important to acknowledge the narrator meets Tyler on an empty nude beach. This has a lot of connotations for a lot of reasons. Nude beaches/beaches in general have long been a gay male hookup spot. The beach is empty — it's the 90s. Many, many people have died. The narrator chose to go there — an interesting one. Stepping out of bounds a little only to be reminded of the constant threat, by how no one is there. He just watches Tyler do his thing, doesn't engage. He keeps his foot, with the AIDS-like rash on it, buried in the sand so he doesn't start dying in people's eyes (and presumably so if he ever got the gumption, he could tap it). Even if you assume the nude beach isn't specifically gay, all these things still apply, and it's still his idealized man he hallucinated all sweaty and tan.

Kind of discussed in the Marla related link above but he's like, horrifically repressed, even if he WAS straight. He can't imagine himself having sex. But when he has Tyler have straight sex (see above link for detailed thoughts on that), it's Marla he's jealous of. It is literally written that way. He is jealous of Marla stealing Tyler's attention and ruining the vibe they had with just the two of them.

Something, something, elaborate rituals for the touch of another man. Getting a big rubbery one in response to Bob. Arguably it's about him getting off on misery but it's not like it was written with regard to Chloe. And Chloe— amyl nitrite/poppers are commonly used in gay bathhouses and stuff. Used in straight sex too but yeah pretty common... Back to Bob though, this mimicry of closeness with another human being  another man in particular, staring down the gun at a man who can't functional have sex like society expects him to anymore. 

He invents a club that word for word could be swapped with gay sex for a large portion of its introduction. He is desperate for the touch of another man even if violence is the only way he can get it. Sex would be violence, in an age of being terrified of AIDS. 

The constant underlying sharing of blood and spit and contaminating food etc. All these other ways HIV is spread. But at least it wouldn't be That way. If that's his destined way to die then at least it wouldn't be like that. Dark, but.

The fucking scene about his birthmark holy shit man. Essentially, the doctors thought his birthmark was a sign of, pretty much, Kaposi's sarcoma. The cancer overwhelmingly associated with AIDS, and he's a medical marvel. Because he'd be dying from an unknown horrific disease. Now he hides the birthmark, because that unknown disease is everywhere now. <-bastardization of a line from the book. And when people see that birthmark, he starts dying in their eyes. If he was openly gay in any fashion, he'd start dying in their eyes too. The same way.

There is, distinctly, a sense of a complete lack of actual functional future. There is a sense of complete lack of role models from the past. 

The environmentalist turn even in this sense. The burden of history. He was not the one who spread the virus. There's a lot of deep, deep self hate and internalized homophobia in that. In the single time the narrator mentions gay men, too — as gay men wanting children being the cause for why all the single mothers in the clinic Marla goes to  are dying of AIDS. But that's not true. Gay men, overwhelmingly, are not the reason it went from gay men to eventually reaching women. But what he repeats is part of the societal curse upon them, and what he repeats is a chastisement, look what happens when you dare desire anything. If you actually want to act on those perversions. You curse everything and everyone. Stay repressed, or you'll die and kill everyone.

He invents Tyler. "Perfectly handsome and an angel in his everything-blond way." He invents the perfect man, who also can never infect him. Who also pisses and spits in soups, god what a conundrum — society assumes you're evil, sick, and damned, but you're still their responsibility. How do they like it. I am not glamorizing the willful spread of disease lol I don't think it's ever a sane response but in fiction it hits that like... vindictive anguish. 

Honestly, even the section I just mentioned. Where Tyler rants to the union boss. You don't actually give a single shit about me and better yet you probably hate the living shit out of me. But I am still your responsibility. You have sucked me dry til I have nothing to love, and you have everything. And the narrator says he says the same thing Tyler said, but about contaminated food. The parallels, with how that would apply to people with HIV, especially gay men. There is so, so much emphasis on the narrator's blood and how it gets all over the Pressman hotel's manager.

Fight Club, Project Mayhem — they're the designs of someone who doesn't expect to live long. The home of people who don't expect to live long. Whether that's because medical care is too expensive or because you catch a blood infection or because the cops shoot you. 

And at the end, after everything has happened, after his manic pixie dream boy helped him martyr himself, what does he really get? Idk man. Drugs that will kill his sex drive. A deep fear of himself that now has evidence for how far he can fall. A deep disillusionment. No hate, but no love either. Still just empty, now knowing he has opened pandora's box, whether he intended to or not. He can't put it back. He tried. 

Idk. something to be said about all that. Probably a lot more as well but that's just off the top of my head.

[lixenn]

Xanxus and throwing stuff

It’s my time to chuck some random KHR headcanons into the wild!

For context: I wanted to write this scene, but during the process several questions came to mind which somehow spiralled into even more questions and now I have a whole new headcanon that’s taken over my brain because of course I do.

I won’t bore you with all the nitty gritty background details. I will just jump right into the good stuff, which in this case is me wondering about Xanxus and his habit of throwing stuff.

Especially I was focussing on Xanxus throwing alcohol.

Because look: We all know Xanxus loves throwing stuff at people be it alcohol, food or whatever else is at hand, but have you ever wondered if there’s some criteria on what he throws? Again with the alcohol, does he just randomly throw bottles on peoples head? Does he just use what is in his immediate vicinity?

And you know what?

NO! I DON’T FUCKING THINK SO!

Because that would be too easy! Where’s the drama? The unnecessary detail? Why think that Xanxus just throws random alcohol when we can make things complicated and develop a whole alcohol throwing language for the lols.

So here we fucking go:

Disclaimer: I don’t drink, so I know shit all about which different types of alcohol would fit certain criteria. So, I’m just going to use vague descriptions for now. If anyone who has a clue about alcohol wants to throw in their two cents and tell me what alcohol would actually fit certain descriptions, PLEASE hit me up so I can add it.

Anyone who interacts with Xanxus for more than 10 minutes will immediately notice his compelling urge of dousing people with alcohol at the slightest provocation. What people don’t know is that Xanxus actually uses different types of drinks for different groups of people.

If you’re just a random minion that pissed him off, he’ll throw the cheap stuff. Not something that’s really horrible but it wouldn’t taste great either. Just generic alcohol you could easily get at the local supermarket, basic shit for basic people, y’know?

Now, if Xanxus absolutely hates someone’s guts (looking at you there, Iemitsu) they will get hit over the head with the most vile alcohol that’s available. Stuff that tastes like horsepiss, something that’s barely fit for human consumption (and might actually be just rubbing alcohol with a shitty disguise) but people buy it anyways because it’s a quick and easy way to head straight into lalaland.

But if Xanxus likes you… hoooo boy, that’s a different matter entirely. Of course, he will still throw stuff because this is Xanxus we’re talking about here, however now he will throw the fancy shit, like expensive wine that’s been handed down for decades in the family (showing my lacking alcohol knowledge here). And if he really reaaalllly likes you *sideeying Squalo* he will reach for his favourites because he shows affection via violence and deeply obscure gestures that no sane person could ever comprehend.

He also has a go-to alcohol of choice when he’s in a really bad mood, so it doesn’t matter what alcohol category you were originally in, if Xanxus is grumpy he will only throw this specific type of alcohol and nothing else. As for what type it is: I’d say it’s just alcohol he personally can’t stand, like there’s nothing really wrong with it per see, but he either has a bad memory associated with it or he just hates the taste so he will never drink it.

That’s it from me and my super specific alcohol throwing headcanons. Any questions, comments and incoherent screams are welcomed with open arms.

Have a nice day and keep being awesome!

[tree-obsession]

HSR and Scars+other physical trauma marks HCs

I haven't seen anyone do this yet, but lmk plz if someone has!

Minor spoilers for main plot

Arlan- scars in a lot of places, implied that he could fight as a child and was poor, canonically has a prosthetic arm (at least I think, but works as hc too) and scars on his arm and nose at least. likely has more, esp on arms since using a greatsword doesnt give great defensibility and his moveset involves cutting HP(judging by the animation, using electricity, so electricity scars too? are those called lichtenberg scars?). he's short, and again the childhood implications mean he was probably malnourished.

Asta- probably minor things from working with untested equipment, and has likely burned her hands with her own powers- but, since she's a noble, she's likely expected to be neat, so idk. I like the burn idea tho.

Bailu- she's a healer, so I think what she does get she can get rid of too. But maybe her dragon tail has unhealed bits from failed assassination attempts, or smth?

Blade- canonically has scars basically everywhere. literally got tortured for a really long time, had home planet destroyed as a child and likely didn't get out unscathed (we NEED to talk abt that more), was a forge worker (burns) and did fight on occasion as Yingxing, and then was on the run for about 1000 years or something, and canonically died even more during that time. also has a skillset that involves cutting his own hp. likely doesn't have to eat, but he's unhealthily skinny because of it anyway. chronic pain. somebody give this guy a hug please.

Bronya- she's a soldier, so callouses, blade scars, bullet scars, emergency first-aid scars, and probably desensitized to cold more than the average human bc belobog. really high disregard for pain that concerns seele on a regular basis.

Clara- her. her feet. are they ok. but also some scars from working with mechs and being in the cold, but svarog made sure nothing too major happened while she was in his care. before, though... likely got beat up for being a "pushover" (im crying plz).

dan heng-... chain scars. we NEED to talk about the fact he spent most of his life chained up in prison with guards and people who hated him (minus jing yuan). probably none of the guards would have stopped some of the more violent ones from getting physical- how else would he tear his clothes that much? probably wasn't fed enough or allowed to exercise much. and the chains- listen, i know we joke about the light cone a lot(honestly why was that specifically made into the light cone) but that was really how he lived for a long time. the desc even said he "writhed" and "gasped for breath". he definitely has huge scars from rubbing skin raw around his wrists, ankles, stomach, and maybe his neck? his arms are definitely majorly scarred over and stuff from this, and probably his ankles+legs too. also his eyesight is probably shit from the dark, unless Vidyadhara magic somehow helped that.

bonus: there is a fic on ao3 called "you're looking into their eyes (and find you're looking into your own)" by robyndoesntlikeyou that deals with dan heng having scars that i only found after drafting this post. plz rec any more fics you have on this...

Fu Xuan- i really don't know for her. probably small ones that wouldn't have scarred, but she saw them as unimportant and didn't treat them...

Gepard- similar to Bronya, but maybe not as many since he's a shielder, but more of the lack of cold sensitivity? he's on the front lines lots

Guinaifen- burn scars on forearm and hands. probably can't feel much on her hands too. idk her lore but she's a street performer, so probably not always enough money for food.

Herta- we basically know nothing about her! seriously, she's so mysterious, and her character stories are vague about her past. i can't think of anything, but maybe there were some more dangerous experiments?

Himeko- considering she rebuilt the Astral Express, there were probably dangerous components involved there somewhere... and her backstory still seems pretty mysterious

Hook- diggertron probs caused burns, and life in the underground is dangerous- plus, moles could apparently go to the fight club? which seems like an issue

Jing Yuan- he's a general- lots of war scars. and probs lighting burns because he summons that entire lightning lord/chronic pain.

Jingliu- she definitely has a lot- i'm pretty sure she's the oldest of the hcq, and also got mara-struck/ fought in wars and was on the run and exiled for a long while. canonically constantly in pain due to mara. also really, really needs a hug, except the only person she would probs let hug her is baiheng, who is dead! and also she isolated herself and tortured yingxing/blade. hcq enjoyers are in literally so much pain.

Kafka- would have a lot of callouses, but idk about where scars would be. she would probs cover them up to avoid drawing attention (as she is an assassin), but idrk where exactly. she seems really sneaky, and considering she has no fear there's no reason for her to hesitate in battle. maybe scars on arms from electricity or stray bullets?

Luka- canon that he has scars from wrestling and stuff.

luocha- again, he would probably just heal whatever scars he did get. i really don't know for him, sry ):.

lynx- most calloused hands ever and even more of a weird cold tolerance than others because she's an explorer. probably just doesn't have feeling in some places. and there are probs scars somewhere from when she ran into fragmentum beasts but she's also a healer so...

march 7th- from careless accidents, sure- dropping glasses and stuff, maybe from a few close fights. but her body was wiped like her memories, plus she's a shielder and archer, which is code for not in the thick of the fight and not taking much damage herself, although she has been careless a few times. also, bowstring burns.

natasha- again, she would heal it. but has chronic pain from lugging around that heavy gun and due to age- i think she's in 50s? she's a respected person, and raised seele in the orphanage, but i dont think there's an official age.

pela- cold resistance. maybe some scars from mechanical accidents? and also there were likely some attacks right after she was born since so many of her mother's coworkers were killed.

Qingque- she's clumsy, so accident scars- breaking glass, falling down too many stairs, etc.

sampo- cold res! and probably some close calls since he's such a rat and has enemies, so most scars are on his stomach.

seele- again, growing up in the underworld was tough, so fighting rings + orphanage scraps + street fights, plus some malnourishment since she often gave her food to smaller kids and ran all the errands. was always a fight-first person, but cares a lot and so would protect automatically. has scars all over- many knife ones, some bullet or burns, and electric ones from fixing up mechs.

serval- electric ones from when she was just starting to fight with the guitar. do i need to keep saying cold resistance for the Jarilo-vi ppl?

Silver Wolf- definitely got some, but can aether hacking erase them? either way i doubt she would actually care enough to try unless she was really bored. but also has terrible eyesight, even by punklorde standards. idrk where her scars would be, so spread out mby?

sushang- spent her entire life training and canonically is brawns over brains, so probs more than a few. also her sword is heavy so she probs had some accidents. mostly on her arms and stomach.

tingyun- probs some from people blowing up amicassador ships, since they want to interrupt peace talks and things- but she's fast and experienced.

topaz- had bad lungs, but had a surgery after getting promoted to fix them. some burns on her hands and her sense of smell is a bit screwed up, so numby is often her compass for that (i love numby SO MUCH)

trailblazer- massive scar from getting stabbed through. none from before game started, since apparently they're a puppet. i think they would heal faster, but messily because of that, so a bunch of smaller scars on their torso, face and forearms.

welt- lots and lots from soldier time, especially from debris and the honkai energy probably has some kind of physical drawback. hands are a bit screwed up too, and gets a lot of chronic pain.

yanqing- what the heck is his family history? will it become relevant later? kind of curious how that may affect these hcs, but hands are super calloused and while he often doesn't retain major injuries, he'll only care for them if jing yuan tells him to, so a bunch of smaller scars just from that. mostly on his arms and hands and neck (ppl probs try to stab there often...)

yukong- so many- was huge in the war, so lots of bullet scars and maybe even some that were previously mara-infected and made worse. hearing is shot, uses hearing aids in her fox ears. a bit irrelevant but she is totally awesome.

[thousand-winters]

What do you think of Hunters eating habits? Do you think he struggles to eat, struggles to keep on weight etc etc

I doubt he was eating all that well in the coven, but he also lives with Darius Deamonne who just wouldn’t let it slide

The way I struggled to find this, I need a better tag system for my blog, but anyway! I actually shared some thoughts here but let's go with some extra thoughts anyway.

It's definitely going to be a challenge for him to break his bad eating habits and actually have three meals a day and such. Because Darius wouldn't want to force him to eat either if he's not up to it, I can imagine at the beginning there was a lot of "well, at least have a snack" which he picked up for later and then that "later" coincidentially never came.

It would have been easier for him to eat normally and healthily at the Human Realm because it wouldn't feel like it's just him doing something he hasn't earned, his friends were unknowingly leading him with their example. It's easier to do something when everybody else is doing it and acting like it's totally normal to have multiple meals a day even when your make-shift portal exploded on your face for the third time this week. He might not fully understand but it's not him committing a wrongdoing all on his own and overtime he probably relaxed with how nonchalant they were about it too.

I think he was generally very polite with Camila, and very grateful, and he felt comfortable there to a certain level, while all of them knew it wasn temporary, plus Camila only had so much time in her day between work and six whole kids, so he didn't have to talk too much with her if he felt anxious. If he ever felt tense, he could just follow his friends' lead and keep going, even if he was doing something as innocent as grabbing fruit from the kitchen while Camila was around. Not so daunting when you have company and you don't have to spend a lot of time with this figure of authority anyway, even if they're nice.

Now, when he moves in with Darius, it's different. Darius doesn't have six kids he suddenly has to care for while simultaneously worrying about coupons and where to get the money for all of them to be able to live in decent conditions, and this isn't a temporary arrangement either, so Hunter would worry more about making a good impression because if this is to be permanent, he has to be a good kid, exactly how it worked at the castle. He spends more time with Darius than he ever did with Camila, and while they already have the precedent of their time at the castle, Darius is now his guardian, so it's different.

Darius would probably tell him straight away he doesn't have to earn anything at his house, and everything there is at his disposition because it's his house now too, but Hunter would probably feel too awkward at first to even open the fridge if he hasn't been specifically asked to retrieve something or told that he could. So between that and his tendency to tell Darius he's not hungry during this or that meal, very early on he would be kinda going back to his habits at the coven.

But yeah, Darius absolutely isn't going to let it slide, even one or two weeks is too much because Hunter needs to eat, he's a growing teenager. Part of it would be definitely Hunter feeling like he doesn't deserve the food, but even without that, once it gets actually into his head that he doesn't need to earn it, he might struggle to actually keep enough appetite for the three meals at first.

I think it's also possible at the Human Realm he could get away with it a lot because Luz and him were probably the club "I don't feel hungry" and then the others looked at them and they looked so worn down that it was evidently not a physical issue, so they just let them because no point in forcing them when they aren't feeling well. It's absolutely the same with Darius and Eber, except there's no urgency nor lack of ability to take Hunter to a healer and see if part of it is his body not being used to have frequent meals like that.

He probably has to start slowly, perhaps with light meals at first, and Darius would help him work through it both with making sure he has the meals he needs so he can eat properly and with encouraging him and supporting him so he stops feeling guilty about "wasting his time and resources".

He gets there eventually, and if he ever doesn't feel like taking a meal, Darius still takes the time to make him a snack. He doesn't pressure him to eat it, but he does encourage him to not feel like he doesn't deserve it. It takes time, but Darius has plenty of it and a lot of patient for this kid that has been hurt in far too many ways.