#but yeah i really don't know if i should take them with me or not...

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[peachesofteal]

more pizza girl

You're fucked.

It's the only way to explain how you feel, standing in the store, staring at bottles of liquor, wine, beer. You don't even know if this is the appropriate thing to do, but you've always seen it in shows, movies, so it must be, right?

You should have said no to this whole thing, should have told them you're busy, or you're working, or you had plans, but for some reason, you just knew they'd see through it. They'd call your bluff.

So here you were, staring at a rack of wine, trying to pick something to take to their house for dinner.

Even the thought is a marvel. You're not a complete shut in, you visit the few friends you have on occasion, your family, attend work functions, but this is different.

You know it is.

"Excuse me?" A petite old lady chirps at your shoulder, and you turn. "Do you need help?"

"Oh, um... no."

"You sure? It's just you've been standing here for almost thirty minutes." Fuck. 

"I'm fine." It comes out more assertive than you would have liked, and she backs away without another word. Great. 

You choose a six pack and book it out of there.

Their place is cozy. Not too small, not too big, clean and organized, orderly.

Except for the dog.

He's massive. 

And slobbery.

And... not for you.

Simon realizes immediately, and herds him away behind a baby gate, where he promptly slumps to the floor and closes his eyes, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth.

"He's..."

"Ye dinnae have to say cute. We know he's not."

"He's a mutt," Simon tells you, placing a bowl of something hot on the table, "but he's ours. Rescued him an' everything. Never liked pets but... found him on the street an' for some reason couldn't leave him behind."

"That's so sweet." He shrugs, Johnny rolls his eyes.

"Didnae tell me a thing. Just came home with a giant slobbering bear." You eye the table and it's three chairs, suddenly overflowing with anxiety. Which one should you pick? Which ones are theirs? Do they sit next to each other? Doesn't someone always sit at the head of the table? "Take a seat wherever," Johnny coaxes but you remain frozen, avoiding their eyes.

A hand folds over your shoulder with gentle, careful pressure, and warmth. "This one." Simon urges you towards the one in the middle, and you relax, grateful.

"Sorry." You mumble, but Johnny reaches across the table and squeezes your hand.

"Ye dinnae have anything to be sorry for. We're really happy you came."

"I... I'm glad I came too." The admission tries to stick in your throat before you force it free, and they reward you with soft smiles.

"Let's eat then."

Dinner passes in a breeze. It's so easy to sit with them, be around them. Involved in their conversation but comfortable enough to bow out of it too, and just listen. They're very good at navigating it, knowing when to stop and go, when to ask you something, and when to move on.

"If you want to stay for a bit, we were thinking about watching a movie. Afraid we're not really exciting." Simon calls over his shoulder, unfolding his glasses and slipping them on his face.

"Oh." Just do it, do it, do it- "Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah but no... nothing scary. I can't do those." Johnny jerks his head towards the couch.

"Nothin' scary."

Simon doesn't give you the opportunity to stress over the seating arrangement this time, and points immediately to the left side of the couch. "The button down on the side will extend the footrest, and it can lean all the way back."

"Wow." Johnny settles on the other side, and Simon takes up an overstuffed armchair to your right.

Lots of distance. You kind of feel sad about it.

Your eyelids start to droop after an hour, and no matter how hard you fight it, you're in a losing battle. "I think I should go home." You mumble, and Simon pauses the screen.

"You alright?"

"I'm falling asleep." You don't make any moves to get up, instead curling in closer, tucking your hands under your cheek. The room is warm, the couch is soft, and the dog is snoring, which is comforting, in a weird way. "Should call an uber."

"We'll drive ye."

"No, no... I'm-" you yawn. You don't want to move, and when no one says anything, you let your eyes close for a few minutes. Just a few minutes.

In the dark, who knows what time or how many minutes or hours later, a blanket is tucked around your shoulders, shoes slipped off your feet, and someone strokes your cheek, trailing up over your forehead and away, lingering briefly.

"Sleep tight sweet girl."

[tobiasdrake]

This is why populism is so effective and so powerful. Democrats need to get better at having emotional conversations with voters. They need to learn how to humanize themselves and empathize with the people they're talking to.

Feelings don't care about your facts. We got killed on the economy in this election cycle because the facts said the economy was good, but people were still hurting.

"The unemployment percentages are--" I can't find a good job.

"Interest rates have been--" I can't afford bread.

The average person doesn't care what the numbers are. They don't care what the statistics say. They form their positions emotionally, not logically. They care about what they're seeing and feeling, and they need a narrative that connects to their personal life experience.

The Democrats said, "You don't know what you're talking about. The economy is fine, actually, and you're wrong. We just need to keep doing what we're doing because everything is fine."

The Republicans said, "You're right to feel that way, because the economy is broken. Your feelings are valid and you're right. And it's the immigrants' fault!"

And between the two arguments, "The facts say you're wrong" and "Let me tell you who to blame", voters elected hate. Because hate validated their feelings. Hate spoke to them on their level. Hate offered a narrative they could understand, instead of charts and 500-page statistical essays.

The facts are very important and should be used to inform positions, but they aren't persuasive. You can't convince somebody that the sky is actually green by offering them a light spectrum analysis. They're going to look at it and go, "Looks blue to me." You're wrong. You're not speaking to me on my level. I'm not voting for you.

But if someone else comes along and goes, "Yeah, sky's blue 'cause of all the chemtrails being poured into it by socialists," then they might nod along and go, "Those bastards." Because they understand that.

This person gave them a reason for why the sky's blue instead of simply telling them that it's not. A bonkers reason. Absolute dogshit. But a reason they can accept and internalize. It certainly sounds more correct than the sky being green.

"Okay, but as soon as they fact-check him, everyone will realize--"

NUH NUH NUH NUH NUH, let me stop you right there. Because they aren't going to fact-check him. If it sounds right, then it is right. That's how most people form their positions on complicated subjects they don't really understand. If they had any desire to independently research this topic for themselves, they would already know he's wrong.

This is where Democrats need to improve. The facts are on our side far more often than not. And that's great! We should be taking factually correct positions. But we need to get over our instinct to try and crush a fool in the Arena of Logic and Debate, and learn how to present ideas in common language and in a way that's empathetic to common experiences.

We need to learn how to talk to people who sincerely do not know what we are talking about.

the lesson I'm taking away from this election is not that the Democrats need to become more left wing or more right wing but moreso that they need to find a way to cater their rhetoric towards people who genuinly have no idea what is going on. the target audience for every speech and political appearance should be someone who doesn't know what the three branches of government are because they were drawing a Cool S during high school civics

[ms-spkhd]

Part one

Admittedly, Eddie feels really fucking stupid about it in retrospect. Jeff tells him, in that soft and placating way he tells him anything, that he should stop worrying about his hindsight bias. Yeah, right. Hindsight bias doesn't apply for Steve Harrington dangling himself in front of Eddie's face like the metaphorical carrot on a stick.

It feels like a kick in the head, if anything. One that rattles his brain against his skull like the ricochet of a bullet. Or a maraca with a single, tiny bead in it, if he wants to be more technical about it.

But that's beside the point. What's important is that Steve Harrington is, like, into Eddie--which definitely throws all of his preconceived notions about boy wonder with serial monogamy problems of the heterosexual variety out of the fucking window and past the goalpost--and Eddie's been farting around for the past few months twiddling his fucking thumbs about it.

Well, it's not definitive.

The more that Eddie ruminates on it--and he spends several nights ruminating on it--Jeff's theory that Steve might be tipping the Kinsey scale sounds like...well. A theory.

It's the doubt that comes rearing its head that stops Eddie in his tracks from actually doing anything.

("Wow," Jeff grumbles as they hotbox in the back of Jeff's hand-me-down olive green Pinto a week after their stunning revelation, "trust Virgin Supreme to self-sabotage when someone is begging for you to climb on his lap and--"

"I told you that in confidence," Eddie spits as he digs through the glove compartment for a cassette to replace the oft-abused Kill 'Em All tape that's been blaring on repeat for the past two hours. "You're really mean when you're high, you know that, right?"

Jeff shrugs and takes a hit of the blunt they've been sharing. "I'm releasing my inhibitions. You can't silence me.")

Eddie trusts Steve. Of course he'd lay down his life for the man that dragged him out of hell without a single look behind like a preppy fucking Orpheus. But there's always the lingering thought that, despite everything they've gone through together, Eddie loving Steve would be the tipping point that ruins everything.

He finds himself balancing the line of keeping it in, too scared of the risk his heart will pose on their friendship, and fully committing to the pipe dream of Steve Harrington possibly wanting him back.

And, in Jeff's wise words, Biblically.

"Hey, Bird," Eddie asks Robin one night at the drive-in theater when Steve's out buying their snacks--medium popcorn loaded with cheddar powder and butter for Eddie, since he just popped a Lactaid ten minutes beforehand, and Milk Duds for Robin--"What would you do, hypothetically, if you think someone is really into you--"

"Here we go," Robin sighs, leaning back in the passenger seat. Eddie can't help but feel miffed at her dismissive attitude, but he knows for a fact that she's all ears.

"--And you, hypothetically, really like them back, but you don't know for sure if they actually, hypothetically, want you, or if it's just wishful thinking on your part?"

"Any you mean this totally hypothetically?" Robin says as she turns to face the rear seats where he's sitting and chewing at his cuticles.

"Yeah. This is a theoretical situation that I want your input in. Think of it like a...thought experiment."

Robin nods with narrowed eyes, like she sees through the bullshit with an all-seeing eye. "Right. Thought experiment. Is this hypothetical person a queer or not?"

"It never crossed your mind," Eddie confirms. "She looks like the posterchild of suburban heterosexuality, but she's gotten very invested in your very gay sex life out of the blue recently."

"So which one of you is the man invested or tell me about what eating out is like invested?"

"Tell me what eating out is like invested."

Robin hums in thought, tapping her index finger against her chin like the situation is really vexing her. "That sounds pretty gay, Eddie."

She is right, that does sound pretty gay. But it doesn't help him in his predicament at all, since Steve seemed to back off about the 'so do you play rock paper scissors to find out who gets it?' questions after Eddie frustratedly admitted that 'DnD club president and metalhead virgin at almost twenty' wasn't exactly a hot item in Indianapolis, much less Hawkins.

"Okay, new layer," Eddie says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "What if, say, instead of asking you out--which you think is her next move--she starts trying to set you up with a bunch of girls you don't know."

There's muffled chatter from outside the Beemer's windows. Cars rev in the distance as they pull into the lot. Eddie watches Robin in contemplative silence as she thinks through her answer.

"That is difficult," she concedes, and Eddie is feeling more desperate than ever. "Can't imagine that ever happening to me."

Eddie mumbles, "Thank God it's a hypothetical."

"But if you think about it, it's either some misguided attempt to put me out there, or it's a Hail Mary to get me to realize I like her."

"Okay, well. Both options seem pretty hard to differentiate when you don't know what the fucking context behind the action is."

"For what it's worth," Robin says, her expression softening ever-so-slightly, "I think it's the Hail Mary. It's not my place to tell, but you should really give up the idea that it's wishful thinking and give it a shot."

Eddie's a millisecond away from asking, is it that obvious? before there's a sharp knock against his window. He yelps, head whipping around to find Steve with that sly grin slapped on his stupid, handsome face.

Eddie rolls down the window and tries to school his expression. He doesn't need to, really, because Steve shoves the popcorn into his hands and declares, "A medium sized popcorn with cheddar powder and lots of fucking butter for you, my friend. Bone of a teeth."

"Just fucking say it regularly," Robin groans as he yanks open the drivers seat door and tosses her a box of Milk Duds. "I know you can, you jackass!"

Steve laughs, full and hearty, as he turns to look at Eddie in the rear seats. He's like bottled-up sunshine contained into the shape of an American heartthrob. He's like Venus as a boy.

Eddie feels like he's staring down the barrel of a gun.

Another week of ruminating goes by, this time with Robin's words echoing in his head like a reverb pedal, and Eddie keeps that yellow pick near his heart the entire time. It's a real push and pull type situation, he realizes. His heart goes one way, his brain goes the other, which is fucking typical.

He doesn't talk to Jeff about it, because he knows he'll get the same answer, and he doesn't dare talk to Robin about it again. He feels she knows too much, and he has know idea how much she's accidentally telepathically transferred to Steve.

Eddie is about halfway through debating shaving his hair off as a way of regaining control when he finds Steve standing on his doorstep like a fucking Mormon.

"Eddie, man," Steve says with zero preamble, "my cousin's boyfriend has a roommate that I think you'd like."

"Nice weather we're having," Eddie responds blankly. Frankly, with the way things are going, he's getting sick of it.

But he can't help the way that Steve still looks beautiful as his eyebrows bunch together and pretty pink lips pinch into a thin line.

"Come on, man. I think this'll be a good start for you. I think he's into the same bands as you. I think Kathy said he was a Skid Row roadie, or something like that."

"I'm not that big of a Hair Metal guy," Eddie admits, and Steve deflates a bit.

"Well, if it helps, he kind of looks like me.' Jesus Christ. "Devastatingly handsome and all."

Eddie's damn near about to snap like a worn-out Stretch Armstrong being mauled by two pitbulls. He feels like he's about to blow a fucking gasket in front of the guy he's been holding very ill-advised affection towards since his sophomore year of high school. The very same guy who's been trying to set Eddie up with literally everyone with a functioning penis with exception of himself, the only guy Eddie has wanted. Ever.

There's no way Steve is that dense, right?

Eddie knows that the guy's smart, despite everyone telling him otherwise. Steve can definitely do mental math better than Eddie can dream of doing--since Frankie Gershwin passed down the sacred Hellfire DM calculator once Eddie took over Hellfire after he graduated--and he actually graduated on time, unlike yours truly.

But Eddie doesn't fucking get it.

"Steve," Eddie blurts, rather unceremoniously, "what are you doing?"

Steve blinks. His smile wanes dangerously low. "...I'm setting you up with a handsome dude."

"I don't understand why you're doing this though. Are you fucking with me, or something?"

"No, dude, I just..." Steve's expression shifts. His shoulders sag and he rakes a hand through his hair. He looks devastatingly earnest. "I just want to see you happy."

"If you want me to be happy," Eddie snaps, "then just ask me out yourself, since I've fucking been in love with you since April."

Steve freezes, hazelnut eyes like full moons on dinnerplates.

Eddie's hand flexes on the doorknob as he resists the white-hot urge to slam the door shut on Steve's shocked face. Maybe he should take a vacation down south to Mexico. Perhaps change his name and never come back. Hopefully there'll be sweet and earnest boys with olive skin and luscious hair waiting for him on the beaches of Cancun. Holy shit this is a fucking disaster.

"Oh," Steve says.

"Yeah, oh."

"You love me?" Steve asks, eyes sparkling like the rural sky. He draws closer to Eddie, raising a hand that begs to touch him.

"When have I not?" Eddie admits as leans into Steve's touch against his shoulder and laces their fingers together.

I guess I was, uh. I wasn't expecting it." Steve smiles softly and gazes at their intertwined hands.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love me too?"

"Oh God." It's like Eddie's staring straight into the sun, with the ways Steve's smile grows more intense with each second. He wants to have it burned into his retinas. "Of course I do. It feels so stupid how much I'm obsessed with you."

"You know, you have a weird way of putting it, what with all the setting me up with guys I don't know," Eddie chirps. Steve chuffs and shakes his head like a guilty dog.

"I guess I wasn't expecting you to want me back. I wasn't sure you'd go for guys like me."

For jocks hangs heavy and silent in the air between them, as if Steve hasn't quite jumped over that hurtle of guilt over the person he was in high school. Sure, he was king of the letter crowd, but he's nothing like the douchebag from '83. Steve would never shove him into a locker or be a general chest-beating moron around Eddie, because he's not a moron. He's sweet and dorky and a little misguided, sometimes, but he has the heart of the size of a mack truck and a kindness to show it.

The thought of Steve talking Eddie's ear off about Sportsketball and the works sends an excited little shiver down his spine.

"I would," Eddie says, completely and utterly honestly. "God, I would for you."

He brings Steve's hand to his lips and smacks a wet kiss over the soft skin. "And the necklace..."

"That was my Hail Mary," Steve admits with a bashful shrug of his shoulders.

"I haven't taken it off since you've given it to me."

Steve releases his grip from Eddie's spindly hand and brushes his fingertips against Eddie's collarbone, tugging at the chain of the necklace until it untucks itself from underneath Eddie's shirt. Eddie watches the way that Steve lights up like a fucking electrical surge at the hint of sunshine yellow against his pale skin. It makes Eddie flush a bright red.

And when Steve's palm flattens against Eddie's chest and pushes him inside Eddie's new government loaned trailer, he lets himself be pushed against the wall and kissed.

And kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

Sufficed to say, when Eddie wakes up the next morning with Steve drooling against the back of his neck and his warm hand splayed against the skin of his naked chest, Eddie vows to always take Jeff's word for it.

____________

holy shit i was not expecting for part one to get that much fanfare. to be honest, i was totally intending for it to be a one and done to explore eddie and jeff's friendship, and believe me, my heart is so warmed by the reception it got. i recently have gotten myself out of a months long slump and have been swamped with college work, so i apologize for my writing being so few and far between. thank you all and i hope this is the resolution you were waiting so patiently for! :)

@grtwdsmwhr @eyehartart @bananahoneycomb @notasmoothman @colidamae

[thewertsearch]

GT: I should preface this request with an overture of appreciation. GT: For how much your cool and brotherly friendship means to me. GT: It has just been… GT: Absolutely *bully* having a standup gent like you in my corner. GT: Just a grade a dude whos a cut above the others in class and camaraderie. GT: Phew… *gropes for fresh kerchief*.

Wow, Jake is fucking terrified of this guy - or at the very least, he seems incredibly intimidated for a guy who's ostensibly just chatting with a friend.

Unfortunately, this is exactly what I'd expect from a Bro who's not any different from his adult self. Jake's acting exactly like Dave did, back when he was forced to share an apartment with the guy.

TT: Take it easy, bromide. TT: Just about the only way I could salvage endearment from this perilous slope of horseshit would be to discover, really fucking soon mind you, it was a preamble to some floundering invitation for me to rush to your vicinity as nakedly as possible.

In other words, you wish he was hitting on you.

I really don't think he's kidding, especially since both Roxy and Jane seem to want a piece of English, too. Jake's sitting at the epicenter of at least three crushes, which is not a pleasant place to be sitting when you're fifteen.

TT: But since we've already shot that wad's eventuality on so many dry runs of flustered ambivalence that were as hilarious as they were one sided, TT: That leaves only one hope for this message to avoid spiraling toward qualification as a critical fucking defect in the hull of the Mach 10 rocket that is my precious spare time.

And here's the guy's actual personality. It's a fairly even mixture of Rose and Dave, a combination which synergizes much better than you'd expect.

He's still prone to Dave-style rambles - but unlike Dave, his streams of consciousness are every bit as eloquent as Rose's text, which some extra swear words tossed in for flavor.

It's very good, and immediately does a lot to humanize him, especially when all we've seen so far is "roof. now." and "State your business."

TT: And that hope lies in the extent to which you were practicing artful insincerity. TT: Now's your opportunity to pretend that's what you were gunning for. I suggest you seize it. GT: I… GT: Oh. Yes! But of course. GT: The ironies! GT: Good grief how i was bandying them just now. You know me dude. GT: *Blows smoke off red hot irony pistol.* GT: *NONSUGGESTIVELY!!!!!*

lmaoooo

Alright, I can't actually tell if that was a Freudian slip or not - but I kind of hope it was. If these two became a couple, the vibes would be incomprehensible.

TT: I'm guessing you're probably jonesing for uranium about now. No? GT: Ok can you please just sendificate me some more already?? Im in kind of a hurry! [...] TT: You know. I've offered to construct the rabbit for you many times before. I would craft a much deadlier model. […] GT: Damn it man ive told you this is just something i have to do myself. […] TT: Yeah, I know this is your policy. You've done a good job and you should be proud. TT: But it's my responsibility as your friend to offer one last time. TT: Just as it's my responsibility not to just fork over a bunch of uranium just because you ask me in a moment of weakness. […] GT: Why not??? TT: It's too easy.

Throughout this whole conversation, I've been trying to get a grasp on Bro's general vibe - and I think I'm starting to understand it.

When you're talking to Kid Bro, everything is a game - and he'll make damn well sure that you follow the rules.

Jake previously committed to making the bunny alone, and Bro refuses to rescind that rule, even if Jake's no longer following it himself. He strikes me as a guy who frames every interaction he has as transactional, confrontational, or instructional. He's not capable of just shooting the shit - there has to be an angle.

Mind you, I don't think there's any genuine malice in it. I think this is just how he's wired - and I really do think he's trying to help Jake develop as a person, in his own way.

The problem is, we've been down this road before...

...and nothing good lies down this road.

[sanni276]

*Tim and Kon sitting on one of the couches in Titan's Tower*

*Kon suddenly turning to Tim*: Tim my best bro, you need to help me.

Tim: Sure. What's going on?

Kon: There is this guy I really really like but I just don't know how to tell him because everytime I flirt with him he thinks I am just joking and whenever I ask him to go out, just the two of us he answers me with: "Oh! This and this friend will love that! We should totally all go together.".

Tim internally freaking out: He likes guys? He likes a specific guy? Wait, does this mean I could have a chance with him? No, that's stupid he already said he likes someone else. Does this mean that I'm not even an option when Kon likes guys? No why am I only thinking about what this means for me? I am a horrible friend and-

Tim externally: Well what exactly do you like about him?

Kon *with a soft smile*: Everything. He's smart, somehow handsome and pretty at the same time, he is strong and good at fighting and sometimes he does things that just infuriate me and we argue but he is probably the best thing that ever happend to me and if he asked me to become supervillains and take over the world with him I would so without a seond thought.

Tim *literally crying on the inside because he's pretty sure he could be all of these things if he tried*: Then tell him that. After that say something like "I really like you and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime" If he still doesn't get it after all that then he is probably just not interested in you but too nice to outright say it.

Kon suddenly seriously looking Tim in the eyes: Tim, you are smart, somehow the most handsome and prettiest man i have laid my eyes upon at the same time, you are strong and and so good at everything you do and Rao you infuriate me sometimes but I wouldn't change anything about you for the world because you were there every single time I needed someone and I'm afraid ou are my favourite person and that I would sacrifice everything for you. You are my biggest weakness. My Kryptonite. I really really like you, and wanted to ask if you would like to go on a date with me sometime.

Tim: Yeah. Just like that. I'm sure whoever this mystery guy is will instantly fold. Sorry Kon, I think you're gonna have to excuse me now because Bruce wants me back in Gotham.

*Tim runs away to cry in his room and then mope about his crush for the next 2-17 buisness days*

Kon left behind head in his hands: Dude...Just tell me if you don't like me.

Kon is completly convinced that Tim knows how he feels since he is literally the best detective in the world (Yes. Even better than Batman) and there is absolutely no way he didn't get Kon's confession. Tim does infact not know.

Much to the infuriation and pain of everyone that somehow knows them it takes them another three weeks to realize their feelings are mutual and in fat not unrequited.

Except Cassandra: She had guessed the date excactly right and she won a lot of money. (there was a betting pool)

[pockypuck]

"No--you--what have you done?!" they gasp, clutching the table like a lifeline.

I shake my head a little, wiping my mouth of the last few drops and giving an incredulous grimace. "A celestial shot, from the taste of it." Ooh, tingly.

"You mixed them," they say, anguished enough to state the obvious.

I raise my eyebrows, flexing my fingers a little as the capillaries start to throb with my quickening pulse. "Of course I did. You offered me both, and then added a false dichotomy."

"False--what?"

"False dichotomy. Presenting two options as the only choices when there are others available."

"I know what a--do--do you have any idea what you've begun?!" They’re sweating quite profusely for an extraplanar being, the collar of their shirt losing its starch and their silvery hair dampening against their brow.

I shrug. "Something interesting, from your reaction. I expect I'll find out shortly." Oh yeah, very shortly. I can already feel my eyes starting to water and sharpen at the same time. "At least I won't die, though."

"Y--" They go even paler, somehow, staring at me with wide eyes and such distress that the air around them is vibrating. I grin at them with lots of teeth.

"Yeah, figured on that. Celestial essence doesn't mix with human life too well, does it? Too rigidly aligned, one way or another. Most people's systems can't handle it. They run hot for a few months, get all those cool powers, then burn out like an overclocked CPU. Nice try, though." I lick my lips, trying to identify the flavor left behind. Sea salt and chocolate from the mocha, I figure, and something that I can only describe as spite. What I get for mixing it in a Starbucks cup, I guess.

They're still stuttering, eyes now tracing along the outline of my shoulders as if watching for weapons. "But--how did--?"

"How did I know to mix them?" It's not a guess. I'm starting to feel the questions on my skin before they ask them. "Simple. They're the same thing."

Their face twists in revulsion. Heh, they didn't like that.

"Mostly," I amend. "Demons are just angels with defiance mixed in, after all. The base is the same. But mixing god-ordained defiance--" they twitch hard "--with absolute obedience was either going to explode immediately or cancel each other out." I sit back and cross my arms, feeling the proteins in my muscles start to fold and twist into energy the likes of which the world hadn’t seen in millennia. "So I tested it."

"This is--you can't," they rasp, but not as if they believe it. No, it sounds as though their belief is very fragile right now. "You can't be."

"I mean, it turns out that I very much can." I spread my arms, my fingers. It takes very little effort to add a few, subtract them, change them to claws, wrap air and fire and time around them. I keep it short; there are people in this cafe, even if they can't notice us right now. "And really, I should thank you. If you hadn't given me both at once, I couldn't have pulled it off. So this," I gesture to all of me, the shifting skin and brightening eyes and power beginning to radiate in waves, "is all your fault."

They inhale with a shudder, and then their eyes narrow. "Then you are my--my responsibility, and I will--"

"I don't think so," I say sharply, my hand clenching. The energy gathering at their fingertips cuts off as if it's never been. They're pallid again. "See, you might be able to hop planes all you want, but this is my home. Some fancy potion can't change that. God can't change that, if He even wants to. And now you're in my home, and you're no longer the biggest thing here." I stand up, and they're not visible but I can feel them at my back, long feathered wings with bones like steel and little clawed tips flexing and shivering with barely-contained power. "So you can get the fuck out of my home with your mind games and your holy war. And if you come back--if any of you come back--I will know, and I will make you regret it."

It's so easy. I reach for their pale, panicked face, and they're gone. Not sure where, but it's not like I care about the details right now.

I sigh, look around, and settle my power back beneath my skin with effort. The people around me continue to get their coffee and croissants without any indication that something extraordinary has happened.

That's good. Nephilim don't have the best reputations. I can change that, though. I can make our home a better place, and Heaven and Hell had better watch their step.

"In the first vial there is a pure demonic essence, and in the second there is pure angelic essence-" Without letting them finish, you mix both vials and drink the mixture.

[logans-whore]

Hi~

I was reading your old man logan one-shot and mwah chief kiss

Can I ask for some more old man logan and young reader?maybe he's unsure of whether he should give into his desire or keep pushing her away but when he saw her laughing at her phone or talking to a boy friend of hers he loses it?

Or anything like that love yaa

I swear I'm working on my other requests, but holy hell, this caught hold of my brain like a dog with a chew toy and it didnt let go. This can be read as a prequel to this fic, but can be read as a standalone too! Also this turned out way fluffier than I thought it would, but oh well. I hope you like it!!!

https://www.tumblr.com/logans-whore/773031900713451520/may-i-please-ask-you-to-write-something-for-old?source=share

Logan is fully aware that he's too old for you. He's too aware, if you're the one being asked.

The two of you were the only ones to survive the Westchester incident, him because of his healing, you because you hadn't been at the mansion on the day of the incident.

So you, him, and Charles move in together, hiding away. Later, Caliban joins you.

Now, you've had a thing for him for years. But seeing him there, caring for you, for Charles, being protective, and providing? Yeah, that scratches the lizard part of your brain just right.

And he notices, sees the way you look at him like he's the only thing you'll ever want. And he turns you down, over and over again, keeping you away. He's way too old for you, and starting to look it too. You deserve someone young. Someone good, and kind, and caring and perfect, like you.

And you're not the kind of girl to push it. To force a relationship with someone who doesn't want you. (Or so you think. He wants you. Very much. He's just an idiot)

So you put yourself out there. You've been working as a waitress to help pay the bills. And a customer gives you his number, and he's sweet and funny and cute, and you say yes. Thinking this is your chance to get over Logan, to move on, find someone new to love. You start texting him, and he seems great. You really like him, and you think, with time, with patience, maybe you could grow to love him. Not the all encompassing, full body experience that loving Logan is, but maybe a simpler, less painful love.

Logan on the other hand, sees you texting. All the damn time. After several pointed remarks on phones, and how young people should get off them and have a conversation, he finally asks who you're texting.

When you tell him about Adam, the cute guy from the diner, his heart drops. He's grown to love you, to love your kindness, your compassion, the way you look at him, how absolutely fucking stunning you are. And thinking about you with anyone else? Hell no. You're his. Not that you belong to him, but you're his, and he's yours, the way only people in love are each others.

And he can't lose you, he realizes with startling clarity. He just can't.

So the next morning, as you make breakfast, about to start your shift, he slinks iinto the kitchen, looks you dead in the eyes and says. "I love you."

You nearly drop the spatula you're using, choking on your own spit. "W-what?" you sputter, surprised and confused.

"I love you" he says again. You look at him for any sign of him joking, of him playing some fucked up prank. You find none.

"I'm sorry I didn't say it before", he continues, like he hasn't just dropped the emotional equivalent of an atomic bomb on you. "I'm sorry. But I love you, honey. And I don't want to see you with anyone else but me. I know-" he hesitates, but continues. "I know I said I'm too old for you. Know I said you should find someone your own age. But I'm taking it back. And I'm asking you, not to fall in love with him. I want you in love with me."

You stare at him, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. "You- you're serious?"

"I just gave you the cheesiest goddamn speech I've ever given in my life, of course I'm fuckin' serious" He grumbles, and you can't help but laugh, before crossing the distance to stand in front of him and kissing him stupid

"I love you too," You murmur against his mouth, and feel him beam against you, smiling into the kiss. "I'm not gonna fall for him. I'm already in too deep with you"

Hours later, when he's fucking you into the mattress, you cry his name over and over again, and he knows, warm and safe in your arms, in your heart, that you mean it. That you're his, and he's yours.

Logan is full aware that he's too old for you. He loves you anyways.

[larluce]

First I wanted to say hello and tell you that I love your works. They really have me on the edge of my seat every time I read them.

Second. Can you imagine that Merlin, in some new alternative universe, for some reason, upon arriving in Camelot, arrives with a baby? It's all still a Merthur ending, it should be noted.

Like, we know that Merlin was already a bit of an outcast in the village for the reason that nobody knew who his father was and even more so because strange things were always happening around him.

The situation gets much worse when he finds a crying baby in the middle of a burnt tent near the village.

Will and his mother try to help him for a while, but with the visits of the evildoers to the village becoming more and more frequent, Merlin and the baby have no choice but to go to Camelot.

And so the adventures begin!

Only now Arthur wonders if they can make crowns for babies, because he is willing to marry Merlin and legally adopt the baby as his own.

And Morgana… well, she and Gwen enjoy dressing up the baby in all the clothes from her old dolls. Not to mention that she notices that by taking naps with the baby she no longer has nightmares.

The knights become, in some way or another, glorified nannies. The servants and maids must chase after a baby who never stops causing mischief in the castle.

And Merlin just wants to survive colic season and potty train his baby… and everything would be easier if there weren't a murderer or a resentful wizard trying to kill Arthur every 3 minutes.

First, thank you so much for the compliments! ���🤧❤️

About the concept. I love it! I don't think going to Camelot to live would be Merlin or Hunith's first option for a baby that can't control their magic at all. So I firmly believe Hunith would send Merlin with the baby there so Gaius can take them to a druid camp so they could take refuge there.

The problem is, before Gaius can do so, Merlin is made the prince's personal manservant. Merlin can't exactly deny the king and he does need the money to take care of his baby so he decides to stay to Gaius dismay. Gaius and Merlin try to keep the baby hided at first so they take turns taking care of her (in my mind is a her) in Gaius' tower in secret. It works out for some weeks but then the plague (Nimueh's Afanc) happens and Arthur searches Gaius' tower.

Arthur: (enters Merlin's room) Merlin: (running inside) Arthur, wait! Baby: (sitting on the bed, looks up at Arthur and gives a cute giggle) Arthur: (Turns to Merlin slowly) Merlin? Merlin: Yeah? 😅 Arthur: Why is there a baby in your bed? Merlin: (in panic, shouts the first thing that comes to his mind) She is mine! Arthur: ... Arthur: What? 😧 Merlin: (repeats more quietly but more firmly) She is mine. (runs to hold her up and embraces her) She is my daugther. Arthur: (thinking) But... but he is so young. (says) Where's the mother? Merlin: (with pain as he remembers the burnt tent) She passed away. Arthur: (his heart hurting for Merlin) I'm so sorry. But Gods Merlin, why didn't you tell me? I wouldn't have given you so many chores if I knew... (thinking) And I almost sacked you. I almost sacked a single father with a baby in arms! (says) And why the hell are you hiding her? Merlin: I... wasn't sure if I could keep her. Arthur: Of course you can keep her! What kind of master do you think I am? Knight x: (from outside) Sire? Arthur: (shouts back) In a minute! (to Merlin) What's her name? Merlin: Brigitta. Arthur: (repeats softly and smiles) Brigitta.

From then on, Arthur doesn't give Merlin as many chores and raises his salary considerably. And then everybody else finds out about Briggitta and go "I've only met Brigitta for a day and a half, but if anything happened to her, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself".

Some events would change, obviously, and some would remain the same but with a new perspective. I don't think Merlin would have time to make Lancelot a fake seal, for example, having to look after Brigitta and all. I can imagine Lancelot becoming Brigitta's first unnofficial babysiter, then Arthur makes it official so poor Lancelot has a salary and a place to stay in Camelot. The Poisoned Chalice episode would remain the same, except Arthur would be more in panic mode and desperate because MERLIN HAS A DAUGHTER! BRIGITTA CAN'T LOSE HER FATHER TOO!

I think it would be The Beginning of the End where Arthur and Morgana find out about Brigitta's magic and Merlin's magic. Not because they discovered her, surprisingly, but Merlin decided to tell them all the truth about her and himself after seeing how they saved Mordred. Also, since Merlin saw Brigitta's possible future in Mordred, he wants to leave Camelot too to keep her safe. Screw all what the dragon told him about destiny, his daugther comes first.

So Merlin and Brigitta are about to leave with Mordred with the druids. They are having a heartfelt goodbye with Arthur, who scorted them there, but then...

Brigitta: (cries very loudly in Merlin's arms and the earth starts shaking a bit) Merlin: I know, I know, baby, but we have to go. Brigitta: (cries more loudly and extends her little arms to Arthur) Arthur: (barely containing his tears) I'll miss you too, Biddy. But this is the best for you- Brigitta: ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (open his eyes wide) What did she just said? Brigitta: (still crying and making grabby hands at him) ATHU, ATHU, ATHU! 😭 Arthur: (tears roll down his eyes) She said my name... Merlin, she said my name! (grinning widely) Let me hold her one more time, please! Merlin: (gives Brigitta to Arthur) Druid leader: (urgently) We need to leave now! Merlin: (looking at Arthur and Brigitta tenderly and smiles) Leave, we'll stay.

I also can imagine Nimueh going after Brigitta's life instead of Hunith, and having to confront not only a very furious Merlin, but a feral protective prince.

That's how far my imagination can go. If you have any ideas of how Merlin and Arthur or other character would act in other episodes now with Brigitta in the equation, share it in the comments or reblogs. I'll be happy to read you 🥰

[hellinistical]

more hcs of rafayel with a desi/mena girl cause im in need. and yeah it does lean more towards Muslim girls BUT anyone can read obviously.

He's actually not that great at fasting. At least, not when it becomes something he has to do. The man can be painting all day and not eat but the second it becomes obligatory? Pain.

And he's also not that great in the fact that he can't really go to bed with you, ya know? cause he's gotta stay away from lust.

Brushes his teeth obsessively during Ramadan cause he'd be damned if his breath got rank when he wants to kiss you.

designs your hijabs and abayas, lehengas, dupattas- everything.

he's designed your rings so why not ya know?

I think he'd be really just obsessed with doing your henna even for occasions that are just ordinary. He'd have you guys have matching designs or better yet- connecting ones (where if you lay side by side or put your hands or whatever together the picture all connects.) giggles cause its yalls secret. his name is on you somewhere and yours is on his.

The type to claim to be a picky eater but that's just not the case. at least, for the most part.

He'll eat stuff like mansaf with lamb head or even jadoo—oh, but you can't deny him his seafood.

on eid, or rather, the night before, he cant sleep. he'd be far too excited and try to stay up all night like its a game between you two.

Eid outfits? oh you're KILLING it- no one is even coming close to you guys. he takes it seriously and loves the feeling that he's out done everyone. getting ready on the phone with your cousins and siblings and they're just "oh my god." cause they weren't expecting you to pop off AGAIN.

Somehow finds a way to get the best parking spot at the place the eid prayer gets even though its jam packed. He finds it. probably had thomas hold his place too. There will be no 10+ minutes of walking in your heels and nice clothes dragging on the side walk just to get to the car.

But aside from that, hates how crowded eid prayer gets and even though you wanna go early cause all your friends are going early he'd prefer to go when the last round of it is going. and the fact that itd be easier to find a parking spot.

is he queasy when picking out a lamb or goat? nah. I can see him pretending that he doesn't wanna do the slaughter but he does. picks out the one with the most meat on (and if you like the more fatty pieces makes sure to save those when he takes home the portions you guys want before donating the rest).

when you go to the mosque, he parks closer to the women section so its easier for you. and makes sure to get there early cause ofc he's gotta get a good spot. Always has a water bottle on hand, maybe some makeup wipes and an extra palette- knows how to fix your makeup for you. SUPER fast with it too.

If you wanna rant to him about podcast bros and wannabe tiktok sheikhs he'll gladly join in and help clown them. Cause who is he to let some buffoon, some deranged man (cough based bengali but don't come for me there's more) who graduated at tiktok university try and act like they know everything to upset his wife? He is not the one.

matter of fact hes probably doxed a couple just for the nonsense they say- (or maybe exposed them....)

should i do more

[chososfl3shlight]

Like you

Daisuke x gn reader

I don't think a gender is mentioned... but I usually write fem reader so..

Just a quick fluff n comfort drabble

You met Daisuke on the pony express space freighter. You didn't expect to really enjoy the job, but with him there, it was somewhat enjoyable. Not only because of him either, the other crew members had quite the personalities too. Over the months spent together, you grew to know them all pretty well. You connected with Daisuke more, though, probably because you both were pretty young and interns.

With very few options on who to talk to, you found yourself with Daisuke the most. During breaks, at night, even on the job, you found ways to check up on him. Swansea would get annoyed with the both of you, irritated when you'd distract Daisuke from his chores. You were sorry, but not really.

Getting to see Daisuke on the job was thrilling. When he'd be using tools, the way his arms would flex when tightening bolts. The way he'd groan when frustrated because he didn't understand what Swansea was trying to explain to him.

The more you filed through the things you enjoyed about Daisuke, the more clear it became to you that you might like him. Your eyes widened at the realization, and you tapped your pointer fingers together while holding the clipboard Anya handed you.

"Something wrong?"

Anya questioned with concern. You looked up to see her staring back at you. She was seated at the desk in medical, looking at you as you stood next to her. You scrambled to reply.

"Uh, no! Yeah, sorry, just.. thinking."

You tapped the end of your pen against your lip, smiling sheepishly at Anya.

"Need a reevaluation?" She joked.

You giggled at her comment, shaking your head. She smiled before looking back down at her notes.

"Is it Daisuke?"

Your heart jumped at the mention of his name. Your eyes flickered to Anya, your head turning with delay. She didn't even have to look at you to know that she was correct. You watched as her smile grew.

"It is, isn't it?"

Your eyes widened, and a frown appeared on your face.

"What? What's Daisuke?"

You asked stupidly, your clammy hands gripping at the clipboard. She scoffed and finally turned back to you, her chair swiveling. She looked at you with a raised brow.

"What's on your mind. Daisuke's what you're thinking so hard about."

She had a shit eating grin on her face. She knew she was right, so why continue to tease you about it?

Your jaw slacked open, and an imminent blush painted your cheeks.

"Gosh, can you be any more obvious?" she shook her head with a smile.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" You exclaimed with angry brows.

It only took one glance from her for you to fold and cover your red face with the clipboard.

"Okay...you might be right." You mumbled.

"Yeah, I knew that already"

You let out a long groan. Dropping the clipboard from your face and facing Anya once again. With your hands lazily hanging by your sides, you stood by her awkwardly.

"How'd you know before me?" You whined.

She rolled her eyes at you playfully.

"Are you seriously asking that? You're always with him, even during work hours, and you just stare at him sometimes -"

"Okay! That's enough!" You interrupted.

She giggled at the way your face heated up. She crossed one leg over the other while swiveling back and forth in her seat slightly.

"You should tell him"

You couldn't look her in the eyes. The way your heart fluttered was embarrassing. It felt like you were outside the freighter and couldn't breathe for a second. Anya must've noticed because she began snickering, trying to hold down her laughs.

"I-I'm gonna go now, okay?" You joked, but actually wanted to leave.

She nodded, waving her hand.

"Yeah, go ahead. I can take care of this"

You frowned in consideration, but she shooed you away, so you ended up walking out of medical.

The pumping in your heart grew in pace as you walked into the lobby area. You looked at the big daytime screen and tried to calm your breathing. Closing your eyes and inhaling slowly. You did this often, missing the feeling of the suns warmth on your skin and the soft breeze of wind. You thought you managed to gaslight yourself into feeling a ray of sunshine on your skin when you felt warmth. You opened your eyes to see the source.

"Boo."

Daisuke was standing right in front of you. You jumped with a yelp, almost stumbling over. He began laughing hard, leaning forward and putting a hand on your shoulder while the other wrapped around himself. You felt your body grow stiff as a board. Both of you were pretty touchy normally, but now that you realized you might like him, touch felt different.

"I'm surprised you didn't hear me walk up to you! Though, I am pretty sneaky like a ninja."

Daisuke winked at you, and you had to look away. Feeling too many emotions and sensations in your body. You wanted to mention how you felt his warm presence, but thought that sounded weird.

"That's how I steal the sweetner packets, but shhh don't tell anyone.."

He whispered to you, and you nodded.

"I won't," you affirmed with a smile.

He finally let go of your shoulder with a laugh. You let out a relieved sigh underneath your breath before he continued talking.

"What're you doing out here anyways? Aren't you supposed to be working right now?"

"Yeah, well..aren't you?"

".. Got me there"

You both laugh together. When it dies down, you walk over to the couch and plop down. Daisuke not so surprisingly follows you and sits down right next to you. Awkward silence ensues. Usually, you're able to spark up conversation easily, but you can't bring yourself to say anything.

He tapped his leg seemingly anxiously. This made you feel like he was waiting for you to say something. You were going to or at least planned to... maybe in an unsure thought. You bit the inside of your lips, rolling them between your teeth.

"Daisuke.."

He immediately perked up to the sound of his name. He looked over at you with a small smile.

"Yeah?"

"Um.. I.."

Your voice came out sounding small and shaky no matter how hard you tried to stop it.

"I like you, like a lot..."

You wanted to sink into the couch, or even better you hoped the ship would crash. He stared at you with an unreadable expression, his eyes only boring into you.

"Really...? You..you like me?"

He pointed to himself in disbelief. You stared at him, dumbfounded. Did he think you were out of his league or something? You thought the contrary.

"Yeah? why?" You couldn't help but ask.

He chuckled, messing with the collar of his shirt.

"I just...that's hard to believe. You're so pretty."

Your face flushed at his words, and you laughed to hide it.

"Am I the first person you used that line on?" You teased.

"No," He replied a bit too quickly for your liking.

When your face dropped, he cackled. He explained that he was joking, but the idea that he had been with someone before hurt for some reason. You wanted him to be all yours, as selfish as it sounded you didn't want anyone else to experience love with him other than you.

"So, do you like me back?"

You asked, feeling insecure. He responded with a smile and a nod.

"Yeah. Sorry if it wasnt obvious enough"

For a moment, you forgot you were on a freighter with other people. It felt like it was only you and him in space. You teared up, trying to laugh it off, but the truth is this wasn't something you could easily gloss over. You really liked him, and the fact that he reciprocated those feelings hit you like a space freighter. He looked at you with concern when you started sobbing and laughing at the same time.

Your breathes were interrupted by hiccups as the laughter became overpowered by sobbing.

"Woah, are you..." he paused, instead wrapping his arm around you.

You just about wailed, trying to laugh instead, but more tears escaped your eyes in dismay.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying not to cry," you whimpered.

He giggled lightheartedly, patting your arm as he pulled you closer. Your cheek pressed against his shoulder.

"It's okay, I know it's a lot to bag someone like me"

You snickered, pushing him away playfully.

"Oh, shut up!"

You smiled wide, wiping tears off your face. You just couldn't cry around him. He always made you smile and feel giddy. You felt like a little kid with a crush.

"You seriously okay?"

"Seriously."

He smiled at your response. You pulled him into an intimate hug. Your arms wrapped around him tightly like he would disappear if you let go. He wrapped you into his own embrace, and you both enjoyed the feeling of your bodies against each other.

+ Quick sketch by me

[the-inkwell-variable]

author ask tag

thank you so much for the tag, @the-golden-comet! ooh this is gonna be fun!

i'm going to focus on my current wip, Why Should I Be Careful? I'm Going To Die Anyway! because it's still very much in the planning stages (despite how much I'm writing for it) and I have Thoughts

What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?

I'll be honest, I haven't really thought that far ahead. I suppose, if there is a lesson to take from WSIBC?IGTDA!, it might be that you should always chase your goals and desires, and screw what other people think. Maybe put a little more thought and planning into yours than Aura does hers, though. I mean, she almost dies due to her recklessness. Don't be like Aura.

What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?

Well, it's a zombie book - I love zombies, in case you can't tell - so the world is an amalgamation of zombie stuff I love. The zombies are based off of the Train to Busan zombies. This is a self-insert mess, so I'm using the town and people I know in the town as location and characters. Little tropes here and there that I love in movies and books alike. It's just a big chimera of stuff that I grab from stuff I remember and shove into it. It definitely needs polish when it's done, but I'm having a blast so far, so I'm'a keep doing it :3

What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them? Do you want to inspire others, teach forgiveness, or help the reader grow as a person?

Uhhhhhh this is a tough question. Right now, Aura is trying to make it to Roger's Grocery Mart to save her girlfriend, but most of the time, she's just trying to have a good time in the zombie apocalypse and hopefully not die. She does eventually grow into a character that (mostly) thinks things through and takes other people's situations into account, so I suppose the lesson is "the world doesn't revolve around you - be kind and helpful to others"?

As for what I'm trying to achieve... mostly, to be honest, I just want people to pick up my book and have a good time reading it. I want to write a zombie book because it's my passion and because there aren't enough zombie books out there. I guess I'm trying to inspire others? To show them that you can survive an impossible situation if you work hard and think things through?

How many chapters is your story going to have?

The only time I've written a full-length book (sorry, the only two times, forgot about Zero: ALPHA), it had about twenty-odd chapters. Z:A had...uh...thirty? That was a long time ago and I sadly no longer have that draft. This one is going to go until it's done. Hopefully more than thirty though!

Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?

Original content! I have no idea where I'm going to post it. I'm torn between Draft2Digital (originally Smashwords) or Substack. Thing is, I'm really bad at marketing and keywords and all that technical stuff that goes into publicizing, so I'm really hesitant to share it at all. I'm the type of person that gets absolutely morally devastated if my own self-inflicted goals aren't met, and I'm not sure if I can handle that kind of crushing heartbreak with this one lol

So yeah. Might publish, might not. Unsure right now.

When did you start writing?

My dad set up a Windows 95 computer for me in his office, his old one, and taught me the basics of using it. I was five, about to turn six. I immediately sat down and wrote a story about unicorns. I've been writing ever since.

I didn't start writing fanfiction until I was thirteen and had just binge-watched Lord of the Rings for the first time. We don't talk about those works. They were awful.

Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?

Write it. Oh it's cringe? Who cares? Write it. Oh, it's a rare pair? Write it. You're worried people will hate it? Fuck the haters. Write it. Writing is about having fun. Writing is about pouring your soul onto the page. Writing is about getting those ideas out of your head so they don't drive you insane. It's about reaching that one person that finds your work and loves it. Even if no one reads it - you still accomplished something. You still wrote it. And no one can take that from you.

I have so many writers in my follow list. Uhh. I have no idea how many are still active, so I'm just going to tag who I know and hope for the best lol

@idyllicocean, @keeping-writing-frosty, @bloodtiesnovel, @asher-writes, @kitswrite, @theink-stainedfolk, @karkkidoeswriting, @lavender-gloom, @orphanheirs, @aquixoticwrites, @alinacapellabooks, @marlowethelibrarian, @flock-from-the-void, @dyrewrites, @storycraftcafe, @writer-imagination, @toragay-writing, @inseasofgreen, @stephtuckerauthor, @thatndginger, @finickyfelix, @eternalwritingstudent, @drchenquill, @paeliae-occasionally, @the-golden-comet, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @watermeezer, @goldfinchwrites, @winterandwords, @badscientist, @clairelsonao3, @i-can-even-burn-salad, @leahpardo-pa-potato, @mjparkerwriting, @rowanwriting, @oliolioxenfreewrites, @emelkae, @rita-rae-siller, @rebelxwriter, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @stesierra, @francineiswriting, @sunset-a-story, @chauceryfairytales, @hollyannewrites, @jaydenswaywrites, @captain-kraken, @violets-in-her-arms-writes, @romy-thewriter, @pure-solomon, @writingmaidenwarrior, @koiwrites

go, go follow them. they're all so good and make my timeline glow.

[yuriko-44]

I may or may not be working on a post about my most personal dr so I can share it here (the reason I created this blog was mainly to yap about that dr).

I have multiple reasons for why I want to shift there and, since I'm really attached and focused on that dr, I'd love to talk about it here. The thing that's kinda pushing me back from finishing and publishing that post is the fact that I don't really know how people behave/react on here when it comes to the kind of realities people want to go to (I'm pretty new to Shiftblr, so…yeah-)

This dr, in the previous shifting communities I was in, could've been considered a little controversial in a way. So I really don't know what people could think here- and that's kinda scary to be honest.

I believe people can shift to whatever reality they want regardless of how it is (since it's their journey, their decision, etc) and no one should judge anyone for that. Realities are still going to exist and the events in them are going to take place regardless of if we shift there or not, so it's not like not shifting there is going to change anything anyway. This is one of the reasons why I believe people can shift wherever they want, because at the end of the day it doesn't change anything at all.

But again, I don't know how people are on here exactly and I don't know if they think the same way I do. I heard very good things about Shiftblr, but I tend to overthink a lot and end up making silly, little posts under which I hope people are going to comment "nah, we're chill over here, post whatever you want"

So…yeah- now I'm contemplating whether I still want to do this or not😭🙏🏻

[natnatscorner]

Not used to this

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JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: You and the pogues have always gotten along. They all love you, except for one.. that would be JJ Maybank and not for the reason you'd think.

based on this request!

word count: 762

cw: none, fluffy

masterlist - outer banks masterlist

It's Friday night here in Outer Banks, and there's a small soiree for Kooks at the beach. Instead of going to enjoy yourself with your friends, you're working the night as a server since you need the community service hours. It's not too bad thankfully you're just serving food and drinks after all.

You stumble upon your pogue friends and Sarah. You decide to go towards them, giving them a sweet smile and wave. "Hey guys! I didn't expect to see you here." At the table are Kiara, Pope, John B, Sarah, and JJ. "Hey Y/N we decided to stop by for a bit, check it out maybe go to a party after." voiced John B. "Sounds fun! Can I get you guys anything a drink, something to eat? Night's been pretty slow surprisingly."

Pope was about to say something before JJ cut him off "We're not helpless Y/N, if we want something we'll get up and get it. Okay?" he spat. "Woah JJ, calm down I'm just doing my job, sorry for being a bother." You waved goodbye and walked away, feelings deeply hurt by his rough tone.

You're not sure why JJ acted like that towards you. You've always been nice to him and his friends, and treated them with respect, unlike others. It's okay if not everyone likes you, but there should be a reason why he treats you this way, right?

"JJ c'mon man, why'd you do that? She's always sweet towards us and you talk to her like that." John B and the group continued to scold JJ until he finally got up to apologize. "OKAY! I'm going, damn guys" He holds his hands up in surrender, rolling his eyes as he walks towards you.

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You're working the bar, making some mocktails. You're still thinking about JJ and how he spoke to you. Deep in your thoughts, you hear someone call your name. You turn around and speak of the devil—it's JJ.

"Hey uh, can we go somewhere and talk?" He asks quietly, looking a little embarrassed.

"Sure, let me just finish these drinks up. It won't long don't worry." You give him a quick smile and continue with your work. That damn smile he thought. Once you finish you let another server know you're taking a quick break. You both walk a few feet away from the venue and pause.

"Okay, what was it that you wanted to talk about?" You asked sweetly.

"I uh- just wanted to apologize for the way I acted earlier, you don't deserve to be talked to that way." He said feeling lots of guilt building up. He doesn't want to come off rude to you, he knows that you are a kind-hearted person, but then again you're a Kook and they're all the same in the end, right?

"Hey it's okay, I get it. You think Kooks are assholes and trust me some check that box off but we're not all like that JJ. I mean look at Sarah, you like her, don't you? And she's dating John B, they seem to be doing really good despite being from different sides of the island. "

"I guess what I'm trying to ask is, why do you treat me like this?" You look up at him directly in the eyes.

He looks away from you and sighs. "I-I don't know. I feel really bad right now and I can't give you a real answer. I mean you're so kind to me, I guess I'm just not used to a pretty Kook like you being so kind. Based on the people I've seen you hang around, just didn't think you'd be like this.."

"You think I'm pretty?" You ask, crossing your arms with a big smile.

"Yeah, of course. You're beautiful Y/N." He looks at you smiling back.

You let out a small giggle. "Come here ya big dope." You go in to hug him. He's hesitant at first but after a few seconds, you feel him wrap his arms around your waist.

"So am I forgiven?" he asks still in the embrace.

You force yourself to pull back. "Yes JJ, of course." Looking at the time, you still have a good amount of time left. "Wanna walk around for a bit? I still have another 10 minutes."

"Sure why not?" You wrap your arm around his and walk around the beach admiring the sunset. Talking about the most stupid things ever until your break is up.

You still can't believe the reason he was so mean was because he actually had a crush on you? Definitely something you're not used to.

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© natnatscorner - please do not copy, repost or translate my works on here or any other platform!

[rom-e-o]

MW!Rook: I never took advanced classes. Got too... busy.

Now I'm intrigued by the thought of a Rook who ends up deciding to continue their Watcher studies after defeating Elgar'nan and Ghilan'nain, taking the advanced classes and realising that Emmrich Volkarin himself was to be their professor in advanced necromantic arts. Imagine how awkward that must be, trying to maintain a sort of professional distance with a man you saved the world with???? Who you have

Also on a semi-related note-

Just imagining the aftermath of defeating the gods if you chose Harding to lead the other group and just... the Veilguard ends up having some grand celebration for it (with nobility involved because of course they want to have a piece of the pie, to say they were involved, just like the Inquisition after defeating Corypheus)

And Cassandra is there. Maybe Leliana.

And one of them is most certainly pissed at Rook for letting three Inquisition members die. Dorian tries his best to smooth things over, and Rook just feels so, incredibly guilty over what happened. Nothing they say or do will ever make it better, will never change the fact that they lost Varric, Harding, and the Inquisitor all at once. And these were their closest friends.

I feel like it's Josephine or even the Iron Bull who tries to comfort Rook, to tell them that it wasn't their fault (though Iron Bull would be more along the lines of 'they died a warriors' death' sort of thing)

I honestly love that idea. I mean, let's face it, it makes perfect sense MW! Rook in this universe wouldn't have time to devote the study needed to join the more elite Mourn Watch ranks. Even from their talks with Myrna ("Back straight") and Emmrich saying Rook has "advanced adequately", I very much get the vibe that Rook's studies are not their strongest bargaining chip.

But hey, between the War of the Banners and two blighted elven gods, who has the time?

But then, you dive back into your studies after a little final boss-reprieve only to find that your beau is your handsome professor. Unlike Johanna's arrangement, this one is a favorable one. Needless to say, many lessons are tentatively guided with should squeezes, intimate guiding of the ceremonial hand gestures ("raise them higher, darling, just a bit more for me...") and ... desk sex. I don't know if Em could SWEEP everything off the desk like Cullen though, haha. ("That chalice is a relic from the Storm Age! Here, let me put it over here.")

Ohhh, yeah. Harding's death would hurt. Dorian, of course, tries to swoop in, but that's not enough. Same with Varric, even though Rook really can't be blamed for that one. OH GOSH, imagine losing the Inquisitor too. CULLEN, MY MAN. ;;

Leliana and Cassandra ... it would be hard, but they would know their leader did what they had to do. They could honor that, I think. Cassandra would cry, I think. In secret, of course. That was their best friend.

Inky's spouse/lover? MUCH more pissed. Now THAT is a confrontation I want to see - very bittersweet.

I can see Josie doing it (Emmrich and Josie actually have the same writer, so it's poetic that it's her). It just suits her personality so well. But I LOVE it being Bull as well.

"It's hard to lose good men, but they chose to fight. Be proud that you rallied a team that believed in you that much. Who stuck their necks out. That doesn't come around every day."

Some extra Trespasser foreshadowing with that. Just a smudge.

[cleverthylacine]

The TikTok Migration to RedNote

On TikTok, I lurk, and now I'm lurking on RedNote. (I'm not searchable yet. Will let those interested know when that changes. Still figuring out the settings.)

A bunch of people got mad about the TikTok ban and decided that they would take their cookies and leave and go to an ACTUALLY Chinese app. I'm not sure why they picked RedNote rather than DouYin, but I think it was a good choice. I'm following other lolitas there mostly, because I don't need any Mandarin to like people's outfits. I did have a semester of Mandarin and am wondering how hard it would be to pick up some more, though, especially since I'm seeing all kinds of Americans from every imaginable background type doing so.

All over YouTube there are videos now of TikTokers on RedNote crying because we have been welcomed onto the app and treated kindly.

There is a lot of very expected anger about people discovering that no, in other countries it's not normal to pay more than half your paycheck for rent and half of what's left for food. Chinese people are saying that they thought it was government propaganda when they were told that Americans are expected to pay for ambulances, and healthcare, and that a $200 grocery bill for the week is not unusual.

I'm glad to see people getting radicalised about the class system in this country, but that's not actually the main thing I'm talking about in this post, though.

There are people who are deadass shocked that they haven't been insulted, trolled in a mean way, or been exposed to explicit unsolicited come-ons (there's one guy who posted shirtless selfies who is a little @@;; that he has 16000 gay male Chinese followers, but he's not getting spammed with raunchy photos).

So I value freedom of speech on political matters very highly, but there are two things I think are going on.

The first one is that yeah, a lot of Chinese people probably are better socialised than Americans, BUT

The second one is that Americans put up with a lot of shit in the name of freedom of speech that we shouldn't and after the changes on Meta last week I will only be using IG to communicate with Japanese brands and Facebook not at all, because they're going the other direction.

I think that if some chode did send me a nasty DM on RedNote and I reported it, something would be done about it. It's not that I don't think people will be nice and kind if they're not forced to be.

It's that chodes and Nazis and frankly racist and misogynist people will run everyone else off a platform if they are allowed to, and this app has somehow stopped that from happening, probably by not letting people be completely predatory bullies and assholes to one another.

English-language social media probably needs to stop letting people do that. It is not a violation of your free speech rights to tell someone they can't use a platform to be abusive.

I saw a video of a person of mixed race and unclockable gender who was wearing loose, oversized clothes sobbing because nobody was insulting them horribly, everyone who had commented on their post had been genuinely nice. Their experience of every other social media platform has been unchecked bullying everywhere. I don't know whether they'd ever been here, but we all know bullying does happen here, too, even if we're loads better than any of Meta's products.

People should not EXPECT to be viciously harassed every time they join a new site. That's horrible. It's also something I never really questioned before.

And I still think (always will) that you should be able to post any content that you want on AO3 in the works, but it's not okay to bully people in the comments.