#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

[lqveharrington]

Buried in a Book | R.L.

summary: While you were part of the biggest friend group in Hogwarts, you’re often in your own world to even register the plans they make.

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

includes: remus being the best boyfriend in the entire world, reader feeling a little insecure, reader’s last name is rawlings (no, i didn’t realize how close it was to rowling until later 😞)

a/n: someone spam message me to finish my coryo series please 😭🙏

One of the best things about being in Gryffindor were the people you made friends with. From rule-breakers — such as James and Sirius — to heavy rule followers — Lily Evans herself — it was so diverse. You could throw pranks with the marauders while being a prefect. By the end of sixth year, the group was tight knit and it seemed as if nothing could ever ruin it.

But there was one thing they would typically forget about with their rambunctious nature. They always forgot about you in their plans. It wasn’t as if they did it intentionally. No, it was because you were always off in your own world, and when they made plans you didn’t hear them. Usually one of the girls would tell you, or your loving boyfriend, but you felt awful every time.

Today was no exception.

Sirius and Marlene made plans to Hogsmeade during breakfast for the weekend. And of course the rest of the group seconded that call and hurriedly ate their food to prepare for the trip. Being oblivious to everything that was happening, you continued to read your novel until Remus cleared his throat as a small warning.

Hearing this, you put a finger to your last sentence and looked up at him, eyebrows knitting up in confusion at the lack of noise coming from around you. “Where did they all go?”

“They made plans for Hogsmeade about…” He looked down at his watch, tapping it softly. “… Five minutes ago.”

He stacked the plates surrounding their area, your eyes watching his movements in silence. You thought you were listening to them this morning, but the last thing you heard before you got fully immersed was the next prank Sirius wanted to pull on Severus Snape.

Frowning, you carefully put your bookmark into your book and leaned your head on Remus’ shoulder, voice coming out quiet. “I didn’t realize.”

Remus wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your temple for assurance. “It’s okay, dovey. You were so invested in your book that I didn’t want to bother you.” He gently helped you up from the bench and pulled your closer to him, his slender fingers tracing patterns on your shoulder. “Besides, I get to have quality time with my best girl.”

A soft smile graced your lips at his comment, but a small part of your mind was eating at you. What if they were talking about something important and Remus wasn’t there to tell you about it? You guessed the girls would, but you would bet they would forget to tell you before you realized they left you.

“Is there anyway specific they asked us to meet then?” You murmured as you entered the Gryffindor common room where only a young first year was sitting by the fire and reading a muggle book.

“I think we both know the answer to that.” He played with the ends on your hair as he pulled around to face you properly. He twisted the ends and watched them unfurl until meeting your eyes.

You looked up and shook your head in amusement as you both said “The Three Broomsticks” at the same time. You scrunched your nose and smiled again when he kissed your forehead as a short parting gesture.

By the time you left the common rooms and made it to The Three Broomsticks, they were just leaving, causing another wave of guilt pass through you.

“There you two are! We were wondering when the both of you would make it.” Sirius pushed in between the both of you to wrap his arms around yours and Remus’ shoulders. “You guys missed out on Evans chugging down her butterbeer because Dorcas dared her.”

You blinked and looked over to Lily in surprise, but the wave of guild began to crash again. “Oh, that must’ve been interesting.”

“Very.” He nudged your side softly before noticing how weary you looked. “You okay there, Rawlings?” His voice got quiet and leaned closer to you. “You and Moony didn’t… You know?”

“Godric, what is wrong with you?” You push him away and dust the invisible dirt off your side. “No, I didn’t realize you guys left us so we went back to the common room before coming here.” You roll your eyes and trudge into Honeydukes with a frown on your face.

“Just a question!” Sirius called after you and look toward Remus instead. He gave him an unimpressed look and peeled Sirius’ arm off of him, raising a brow at the man. “She knows I was joking, right?”

“She does, but she’s not in the mood.” Remus rolled his eyes at Sirius as well before following your steps into the candy-filled store. “And for your information, the time span between leaving us and coming here wouldn’t give us enough time to make it satisfactory.”

Sirius creased his brows in confusion before gaping at his best friend. He looked back at James in shock before watching Remus enter the store with a smirk on his face. “Never in my entire life have I heard Remus John Lupin talk about his game like that.”

You watched young wizards and witches mess with the candy from the corner of Honeydukes, fiddling with your own sweater. Well, technically it was Remus’ but he gave it to you sometime last year. But as you played with the loose thread, the same guilt came back to gnaw on your feelings.

It was fine when it was only you missing out on the unplanned fun, but when Remus misses out on fun that he could’ve seen made you upset beyond belief. You didn’t think your own behavior could affect Remus this badly. And it’s not like Sirius helped when he asked about you and Remus.

“Dove?” Remus rounded the corner and found you biting the end of your thumbnail, making him sigh. He gently pulled your hand away and met your eyes. “What’s wrong, dovey?”

“Nothing.” You mumbled, wiping your hand on your sweater. You grimaced at the feeling but looked at Remus with solemn eyes. “Where’s the rest of them?”

He laced his hand with yours, squeezing it softly. “They went to Tomes and Scrolls. I think they’re buying gifts? I’m not to sure.”

You frowned, “When did they say that?”

“They didn’t. They were just heading in that direction when I left them.” He brought your hand up and kissed your knuckles. He watched your glazed eyes blink to get rid of the wet. “Talk to me, my love.”

You raised both brows at the name and felt your face warm. It was rare for him to call you his love, so everytime it made you feel like a child in a candy store, which was technically half true given the setting.

“Don’t you think it’s kind of annoying I zone in and out of our conversations with that whole group?” You finally spoke after a good second, fiddling with his fingers in anticipation for his answer. “We never get to do anything fun or on time because of me, and I’m not too sure why you still bother with me because of it—“

“Dovey,” Remus gave you a small smile, tilting his head down fully to speak only loud enough for you. “Do you really think I care what we miss with them? As long as I have you with me, I couldn’t care less.”

You gently squeeze his hand, “Don’t you want to hate me just a little bit?”

“Never.” He kissed your head. “Why would I ever hate you for your quirk? I think it’s cute that you get to immersed in your own world when reading. And you know why I love it so much?”

“Why?” You smile and tilt your head up to perfectly meet his own tilted head.

“Because then I get to hear all about what happens from your beautiful voice.” Remus grinned his wolfish grin, adjusting the sweater you have on. “So don’t worry too much about me missing out on those pricks because they don’t talk about anything worthwhile.”

You roll your eyes and let out a noise of surprise when he softly connects his waiting lips to yours. Instantly, you melt and return the kiss with equal passion before breaking apart, smiling giddily at him.

“What was that for?” You lay your cheek on his shoulder as shyness took over your body, especially with so many people around you both.

“Just love you.” He thumbed your waist now, nudging his chin onto your head softly. “And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[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

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

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)

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"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."

[nasturtium-palace]

I know we're way past agent Walker but like, pls hear me out?

So I was doing that agent walker piece I promised like a couple weeks ago, and I had a thought. Like, I read a lot of fanfics where the administration was painted as wanting to strip people of individuality. Pretty sure we don't see much of it in the show. Like, sure, they're all "agent" and they all wear suits but that's not much. So I was thinking, what if the administration not only had uniforms, but also dress codes. Like you know, your hair has to be slicked back, can't stick out kind of dress codes. You will get nagged by a higher up or get a uniform complaint that you'll have to fill out every time your hair pokes out wrong or for messing up your suit even slightly, like a small faint stain kind of dress code. You can't dirty your uniform up or you'll need to pay for a new one kind of dress code. You have to look how they want you to all the time kind of dress code. And if you add anything that is yours, that is personal - another dresscode violation. You know, it is literal corporate hell, right.

What I mean is that it would be a subtle but really telling detail to have the agents all in like three specific hairstyles and that's all. If they want to strip you of your individuality, they would pay much more attention to the agents self expression, which is in many cases through your clothes or hair.

So I was imagining Jay brushing out and straightening his hair every morning, just for it to become frizzy after a couple hours anyways. Self control every minute, to get the agents in their heads, paranoid. Also it would be a great opportunity to have Jay in a hairstyle more simillar to what he was wearing in the earlier seasons. I feel like he'll still be okay with some uniform violations, because he probably was locked up in his office most of the day, but whenever he would go out, he'd need to put himself together.

Another nice thing is that through this, Jay would look different to how he used to. I know that the point of the ninja seeing him in season 2 part 2 was that he was a familliar face, but I mean, did he feel like Jay? That's what I'm steering at. Having him not exactly look like they remember him would also be great visual storytelling for his own lack of identity.

I understand that for the viewers sake, Jay had to look the same as his current design. But just some food for thought.

And I mean, tell me the administration doesn't have a milion files for uniform violation. They surely do.

[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.

[maxladcomics]

Who is W.D. Gaster?

DISCLAIMER: Generally my theories are my observations with no clear conclusion at the end, the same technically applies for this one. I am not forcing anyone take this as 100% truth because as I'm going to explain, there are potential windows into other ideas/conclusions. I am bringing this up because I haven't seen it brought up and searching for it also returns no results. Also numbers. Also I'm tricking you with the title.

This theory is making the assumption that you have read other W.D. Gaster theories, I don't want to dig up every detail that's already been repeated and tbh I wouldn't remember all the details anyway. I am focusing on a point that I KNOW has not been focused on before.

ENTRY SEVENTEEN (Wait Max you just said--)

Ok, obvious point: ENTRY SEVENTEEN. W.D. Gaster speaks in ALL CAPS with no *, a very significant detail of his character, along with his mannerisms in speaking. It's unclear what the lack of * means but it could be related to the fact he has been erased, shattered across time and space, and mostly forgotten.

The room is called "room_gaster", so the connection has already been made here. W.D. Gaster has clearly written this entry, or at least was present for it.

2. THE NUMBER 17

Ok so I don't know if anyone has ever questioned it- but why the number 17? The sound and the fact 17 is spelled out as seventeen most likely means that this entry was spoken.

Is it because 7 - 1 = 6? or 1 + 7 = 8? What would be the significance there?

Early on in Undertale, True Lab Entry 17 did exist, but was never added to the lab directly. It was removed after a future patch, making Entry Seventeen the only one.

But why 17? What does 17 mean?

In Undertale, there are a few things associated with the number 17.

mus_st_him is 17 seconds long, this music is called "Gaster's Theme" in the sound test room.

Still, this seems to line up with W.D. Gaster being connected to the number 17

Junk food, that you can buy from Bratty and Catty, "Food that was probably once thrown away." Discarded? Abandoned? It already has a big bite out of it.

The Abandoned Quiche, heals 34 HP. A psychologically damaged spinach egg pie.

Perhaps this is too excessive, BUT: 2 x 17 = 34

Also Q is the 17th letter of the Alphabet.

If you think the Quiche is bad then this next one is WORSE:

The Deltarune song, Don't Forget. We have a note in Undertale that says "Don't Forget", with 3 characters we don't know.

It is 51 seconds long...

That is 3 x 17.

Discarded like trash, Abandoned because it was too much responsibility.. Forgotten?

3. PAPYRUS IS W.D. GASTER

I would like to tell you that this bastard (affectionate) has been hiding in front of us the entire time. Of course the Papyrus is Gaster fans knew all along, but we are but a small niche of the fandom where the theories can be simply tossed aside with excuses of Papyrus is just a goofy guy, he's just joking, there's no way there's anything serious about him.

Anyway now that I've connected W.D. Gaster with 17, allow me to show you why Papyrus IS Gaster.

In a pacifist run, Papyrus's ATK and DEF are 20

In a murder run, Papyrus's ATK and DEF are 3

That is -17

On Attack number 17 of his battle, Papyrus mentions his special attack. This attack and 3 attacks after are randomized, until Annoying Dog takes his attack, and he uses his 'regular attack'. I have been focusing on the 3 here, but counting the random attacks (4) and Annoying Dog interrupting afterwards, Papyrus has 6 attacks/turns after 17.

There are 16 monsters you have to dust in Snowdin, Papyrus is the 17th.

4. A SMALL NOTE

Papyrus has 680 HP, that can be divided by 17 (either 17 x 40 or 170 x 4) .

EDIT:

Adding another Q = 17 = Abandon item

The FUN values. F is the 6th letter of the alphabet, what do the Fun values do? They change our run in specific ways, meeting characters that don't appear again and getting strange phone calls. There is also something else that starts with F that changes the game completely.

Flowey.. and of course:

Frisk.

These names do not exist in Deltarune, W.D. Gaster has not been shattered.

5. CONCLUSION

17 means Abandoned, discarded, forgotten and forgettable. The close tie in with 3 potentially means that 3 characters have been forgotten already (the 'Don't Forget' is useless).

Despite Papyrus speaking in all caps with no *, it is a possibility that Papyrus is one of the other two in Entry Seventeen, or Entry Seventeen itself is ABOUT Papyrus. But, this also depends on who the Goner Creator is, because that... is ANOTHERHIM.

So Papyrus could be: W.D. Gaster, one of the 2 in entry 17, the Goner Maker, or the Man behind the tree. Maybe two? Maybe all of them? As a treat? Or perhaps he is also something else..

Anyway this theory/observation ties in with my observations with the NUMBER 3, which is great! It was fun, it was easy!! I cannot!! say the same!!! for 8!!!!

[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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[trashcanwithsprinkles]

the sheer zoomies my brain did when i realised i hadn't checked for new chapters for a few weeks and found that indeed, i have several to catch up on (which i'll go do in a moment, i am sure they'll be wonderful, and the more the merrier!)

i haven't caught up on reading the other asks & answers yet either but i am just going to assume no one came in with this particular one since it's rather specific,,, so

i was thinking the other day, y'know how the archons' eyes and stuff can glow? and it might be a slightly odd thing to pick on, but i don't think it's because of anything specifically gnosis related, since, well, playable character things ought to be all-time accurate or after stuff happens, if anything. and also ei/raiden. has not had hers for some time. but she still gets that. that's probably a better argument. so, i assume it's like a light/godly energy thing maybe? or just some kind of really strong amount of elemental energy kind of thing. i don't want to assume that it's only the archons that have it because, well, we haven't exactly gotten to see other gods very much, and with the archons it's not there all the time, either. ...and elemental things just tend to glow anyway, it's just a really specific instance of it. at any rate, that leads me to the question: since ajax/childe/tartaglia has his uh, very notably lightless eyes, which tends to be attributed to the whole. fell into the abyss time, which to me does make sense. if we assume it's just a light/godly energy thing in general, would he have any of that potentially in the fic now? how would that work if the lightlessness is from the abyss? it's not like the abyss influence disappeared, after all. even if it, say, might show but might not show really bright, because well, his eyes are still. kind of. lightless, usually, i assume, and it really is just an assumption (i could go on a whole debate with myself on if they would even still be pretty much. mostly lightless but i'll just stick with assuming for now,,,). but maybe if not really bright, something that feels more underlying but is still... there? the best way i can put it into words is how the "bright" feeling comes from the "light" which not always but sometimes comes from, you know, a colour that's closer to white, and therefore lighter or a colour that's just... a lot more potent, for lack of a better way to describe it (it's probably not that simple, i know, but.). so what i mean by something underlying would be if, say, rather than a really light or even more medium kind of colour "shining through", so to speak, something that's.... perhaps a bit darker than usual, but still there. that's a really random thought to spring on you but my brain handed it to me the other day and it's been bothering me when it comes to cool little details or concepts (a very pleasant thinky much thoughts kind of thing) so i thought i would ask your opinion on that one, highly specific detail :] just a concept im curious about is all! i had no idea what to make of it, ahaha,,, i kept wondering if it's stretching the idea too far, but if it is just a light/godly/super-high-elemental energy kind of thing, then well, i can't help but wonder about it now

and a very practically irrelevant tiny thing but im sending this right after a tiny madness of trying to figure out how to maximise childe's ranged charged bow shot damage without using food or bennett. the highest i got is 45,100 from the initial hit (it was on an enemy with pyro and with kazuha boosting hydro but.). sir. how. that feels illegal. he continues to surprise me,, although i got far too invested in that small exercise, and boy does it take a lot to remove his hydro,,,,, but anyway! hope you are having a good day >:] i am off to see how much fic i can catch up on before sleep time arrives

4- 45k.............................................

you got me thinking- i think it'd be cool if it were something like this. morax' glow is normal light, while ajax', which has an abyssal effect to it, is uv light. morax' eyes just shine while ajax' turn into electric eyestrain blue

[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.