#hes such a silly bird doctor i love him

[magpye-xio]

Here's my improved ref of my Medic oc, Amsel Ludwig :3

Some info about this silly bird doctor for those who are intrested:

-Amsel loves birds so much he tried to become one, dedicated to spend almost 2 decades researching and then making the device. He knew that the human body wouldn't be able to handle such transformation, but he was stubborn and ambitious and he did it anyways. He was literally at deaths door before his partner, Miszka (Heavy oc), turned off the device and saved him. (No, unfortunately he can't fly with those wings, they're not big enough and are slightly underdeveloped, he can slow his falls tho)

-He was a very good and actually caring doctor (still technically is), but he lost his licence when he started to yap a bit too much about his whole 'bird project' to his colleagues, who reported him with concerns for his mental health and fear of Amsel potentially experimenting on the patients (he would never actually do that)

-Has 11 pigeons+doves (which I'm drawing refs for) and Engineer had built helped build a loft for them :3

-He's not a danger to others, bros a danger to himself. His partner keeps him grounded in a way, he wasn't in the right head space before Heavy had offered a job to work as the Red Team's Medic.

Ok I'll stop yapping, have Amsel and Archie :3

[n0tamused]

Hello! may i request a dr ratio fic where he randomly turns into an owl and now reader has to find a way to turn him back into a human, while reader finds a way, they take care of dr. owltio! its basically your typical "oh no my s/o turns into something and now i have to deal w it!" fanfic😭🙏 Ive seen silly tiktoks of veritas being an owl bc it resembles him so well🥹💗

A/n: I love those tiktoks sm bro 😭 They're so cute, I went to work on this as soon as I could. I hope I did this prompt justice, enjoy!

Contents: Veritas Ratio x GN! Reader, fluff, Owltio!

Words: 2465

“Quit your back talking” you scold, voice sharp as you whip around to glare at the bird on the table. Poised even in this fragile form, the big owl straightened its back, standing a little taller and letting out an accusatory ‘whooo’ at you. Despite the mild irritation you felt, from almost hearing all he had to say in your mind in human tongue from his irritation of being turned into this, you couldn’t help the way your face crumbled into a grin. Lifting a hand to rub the bridge of your nose, you take a moment to simply breathe and bask in the irony of the situation you find yourself in. Cackling you shook your head, trying to hide your amusement behind your hand, but the sound already reached the bird’s ears and he was already sauntering over to the edge of the desk as if to scold you for ‘not taking this seriously enough’. 

More coos came from him as you offered no response, but this time much less sharp but more defeated as his big wings stood half outstretched - it’s not everyday one gets turned into an animal, and Veritas was certainly not adapting swiftly to the clumsy yet deadly feet of this avian. His walk was awkward as he shuffled across the desk, his feathery back now turned to you as he looked for something.

Audibly letting out a soft ‘awh’, you approach the desk again, muttering an apology to him. Your words are met with his head spinning around to look at you 180 degrees, cartoonishly funny and beyond amusing. “I’m sorry alright.. No need to go  sulking about. Doubt you’d be able to do much like this anyway, and goodness knows I’d burn in hell if I just left you- leaving you like this'' you cackle a little as you reach out to rub the top of his head. He ducks away, so you leave him be. “I will help you out, okay? We’re in this together, but you’ll have to be a little more cooperative with me, Veritas”

He looks at you, clicking his little beak as he swishes his way to another corner of the desk, flapping his wings, and only then do you realize just how hot it was in the room, a warm breath of air making the layers of clothes stick to you like second skin. It must be no better for him with all those feathers. “Lucky you, I’m off work for the rest of the day. How about we get you a bath, hm?”

 Just like before, the owl’s head turned around, but this time its big eyes looked at you in a way they appeared to praise you for such a fantastic idea. Ever the person to not ask for help, had you not asked, the owl would have stayed here to swelter in the heat. “You like that, hm?” you coo at him, unable to hold back the mirth you found in the way he behaved - it is still a mystery for how long he’ll stay in this form, so it’s best to enjoy every moment while you could.

“Sometimes I wonder if you love those baths more than you even love me” you say out loud, holding your arm outstretched so the big bird can hop onto your forearm, you see it’s feathery ears perking, and another angry 'hooooo' went flying out from him, his chest puffing out in defense, scolding you for even posing such a stupid statement while he can’t verbally refute it. Sure, the doctor never directly spoke of his affections for you, but it should be without a doubt he favors you in more ways than one, and he definitely loves you more than his baths.

Nonetheless, you respond to his noise with a small smile as you carry him to the bathroom, a low hum coming forth from your throat as the silence due to the absence of his voice feels odd. You never realized before how much his voice filled your every day, specifically at home, although the silence between the two of you as you relaxed or went about your own thing wasn’t rare either. 

As the water began to fill the tub, Veritas found his purchase on one edge, watching as the water swirled inside, cool and radiating, tempting him to simply hop in right away. Not wanting to risk him drowning, you stopped the water from filling the tub whole, leaving enough water for him to sit comfortably in. “You need help getting in?” you asked as you looked at the big owl who, without a word(well, sound), hopped into the water, big wings spreading across as much as the tub would allow them to go. Water engulfed him from all sides as he splashed and dove his head swiftly underneath the water before coming up to shake the water off his face. Chuckling, you crouched down and rested your arms on the edge, one arm extending lower so the fingers could touch the water and flick some water on your beloved lover-turned-bird.

“WHOO” he says, a light gurgle in his howl as water splashed into his beak, prompting him to give a fast shake of his head. Now soaked and finally cool, he let his wings simply hang in the water with only his head bobbing on the water’s surface. It was like a purr, his next sound, a soft little ‘huuuu’ as he let his big eyes fall shut as the coolness licked up his feathers.

“I suppose this will have to become the new routine, until we can get you to turn back, that is” you comment as you look around for that one thing you never saw Ratio’s bath go without. The little duck floatie wasn’t too far off, standing on one of the shelves beside the bathtub, watching over the precious bathtub like a little guard before you retrieved it to sit beside Veritas. He looked at the duckie, which looked much bigger than he remembered, then up at you, then back at the duckie’s googly eyes. A sigh followed as the bird went back to cleaning himself off, his tail flicking back and forth, spraying water at you. 

Holding up your hand over your face in a frail attempt to shield yourself didn’t deter Veritas from subtly (but not so subtly) trying to splash you with the cool water. From the flap of his wings and down to the swish of his big tail, the water came flying at you. You laugh after the initial splash hits you, in disbelief at his action but no less happy to see it happen. And in retaliation, you cup your hand in the water and splash him back. “Don’t spray your water at me, you reek, you big bird!” you tease, earning a rather alarmed look from the bird before he dove down under the surface, fluffing his feathers as he came onto the surface to ruffle them. He yelled at you, bopping over to where you were and nudged at your hand. 

“You want me to wash you?” you guessed, and you guessed right as the next cry was more urgent as he extended one clawed leg up to grab around your fingers and draw you in. “Oh, yes, we can’t have you stinking up the place, no sir. If we do, then who’s to say we won’t have someone knocking on our doors to ask about the smell” you keep up your playful demeanor, fully knowing you will earn another earful from Veritas once his beak is turned back to human mouth. You giggle nonetheless, reaching your hand to begin and rub into his feathers. “I should go get you some bird-safe soap too, I don’t want to risk it with the soap we have” You tell him, and he seems understanding enough, a soft coo meeting your ears as a reply.

So many thoughts swirled in your head as you thought of the way you carefully had to handle his wings and the ways to help him turn back to his normal self. Ideas fell short from reality, sending you back to square one. Bringing this situation up to some of the higher ups at the Intelligentsia Guild seemed as the most plausible idea, while simultaneously being something that would most likely earn dislike from your lover here. While you took time to think of possible ways to help him, you could only hope that prolonged transformation like this had no dire side effects.

Three days flew by quickly. Books piled up on your desk and around the house, and the Guild has provided quite some solutions to your little problem - they were eager to get the genius back in their midst, but you only wanted to get Veritas out of this form. 

The weird food concoctions you had to feed the poor man(bird) made you feel sick, but he took it like a champion, only sighing, inhaling and then eating the food. Sometimes he’d fly around the rooms to get his exercise in, or to distract himself from the horrid tasting food; sometimes he’d wait for you around the kitchen to give him a sweeter tasting thing to cleanse his pallet, and other times he’d simply nap. You found out he slept a lot during the day, reminding you of cats. Your own sleeping schedule had gone to ruins and that was no fault of his - you simply wanted to help him where you could and spend time with him, entertaining him or feeding him. 

Yet, you couldn’t deny that the poor sleep has quickly caught up to you as you stifle another yawn. Now it was your time to relax in the bath, and the water did wonders to your muscles and mind alike. Suds slid down your neck and dipped back into the water as you sat down the scrubby sponge down aside in favor of resting, submerged up to the chin in the bubbly water.

No wonder he liked baths so much, you think, mind blanking otherwise. A distant flutter barely made your mind perk, until the small clink of claws on the bath’s edge had you flinching. 

“Veritas!- Didn’t I say that you should at least chirp if you fly towards me” With a small sigh you relax again. For all his big wings, he still flew as silently as the breath of the breeze.  You’d never get used to it. “Do you need anything, I'm afraid I can't help you right away, I’m a bit busy now” you mutter, your lower lip touching the water before you tilt your head up at him. His owlish eyes looked at the water, then at you, before he performed a small hop, landing on your knees that barely touched the surface of the water. “Want to join me, huh..? You know, you really shouldn’t, this isn’t that bird shampoo I bought for you” Veritas puffs his feathers in defiance, noting how the water was now deep, but with you a breath away, he let himself fall in. The suds rising and sticking to his feathers.  He cooed and squawked, flapping his wings and splashing the water. 

You quickly dipped your hands underneath, finding his clawed feet and offering him purchase so he doesn’t struggle, even if his big wings did a great job at keeping him afloat. There could never be a lack of caution, 

“Ratioooo” you whined, frowning and preparing to give him an earful before the weight in your hands grew tenfold, a sudden flicker and a flash of light blinding you to what actually happened in that fragment of a moment. Gasping you felt some water splash into your nose and mouth, the chemical taste of soap making your frown and hiss while the water being splashed over the floor alarmed you to no end.

“Ow-!” you winced, pulling your hands back from underneath the weight. Coughing resonated in the room, and this time it didn’t come from you.

“Veritas!?” Without even seeing him you recognized him, the mere sound of his coughs being enough to make your heart spring with mirth and a sense of triumph. You pushed back, the bathtub suddenly becoming too crowded, and looked up at him. Water dripped down his body, and before he could reply, his knee caught onto the slippery side of the tub, gravity pulling him down into the water and over you. Water splashed more, but you could only open your arms to catch him.

One had slipped underneath you, holding your upper back while the other held onto the edge of the tub to keep himself from falling any lower. He cleared his throat, blinking the water from his eyes. As you cheered his name and held him so closely, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, his cheeks struggling to fight the blush from rising up to them. Despite the initial shock and a wave of frustration that the soapy water caused by irritating his eyes, he couldn’t help but bask in the pure mirth you oozed. A childish joy that could stifle even his irritation - especially his. 

“VERITAS!” You cheered, all fatigue leaving your body as you held him again, your fingers not meeting the feathers but smooth and wet skin of his muscled back. His wet hair stuck to his forehead and a few stray hairs poked at his eyelids until he pushed his hair back. His mind reeled at the sudden loss of his much lighter form, and far more complicated one. Although he yearned to be human again for all the time he spent in his owl form, now he found it weird to feel fingers at the ends of his arms again. But what he had missed the most was this hold around his shoulders. 

“IT WORKED! You’re back, finally!” Your voice rang in his ears, reminding him of the ugly taste on his tongue and the shame he felt when you brought him into the HQ of the Guild, him perched on your shoulder and standing taller than the others - as always. 

“I told you- I-” he sputtered, but only groaned as words failed to form on his tongue. Has he gone mute from only cooing and howling?  “Pftt..” he chuckled, low and raspy as he pushed himself back, reeling you back with him to properly sit in the bath. He watched you lean back for only a few moments, your big smile forming the apples of your cheeks while your wet palm cupped his cheek. It made his breath hitch, and he’d be damned to admit, but he was sure his heart skipped a beat as well. Not wasting another moment, he pulled your back into his embrace, his face hidden away over your shoulder.

“You’re enjoying this far too much” Veritas spoke, even as a smile stretched across his features.

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[avis-writeshq]

04 — you are in love

summary: “you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.” in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn,  warnings: drug mention, alcohol (reader gets a little tipsy), vomit (not in detail) wc: 3.4k a/n: thank you again to the wonderful amazing @astrophileous for beta-reading MWAH zara you're a real one <3 SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Falling in love is something that Spencer thought he would never get the luxury of doing. It’s a fairytale. After all, his parents were supposed to be a perfect example of what love should be like and look how they ended up. Yet despite it all, he always seems to find himself going back to you. You, who makes it so easy to love but he doesn’t deserve it. He refuses to believe he deserves it. He feels so horribly broken that it doesn’t make sense why you would love him, or why he deserves to love you. 

It takes Spencer another three months to actually properly come to terms with the fact that he’s in love with you. He’s spent most of his free time attending Narcotic Anonymous groups upon your insistence and he hates to admit that it helps. He didn’t think they would at first, despite the swirling statistics of their effectiveness but he figures that it wouldn’t hurt. The other times when he’s not doing something drug related, therapy related or work related, he’s with you. Your apartment is almost like a second home to him and you’d given him your spare key (he went home with a ridiculous grin on his face and had to chug several cups of water to calm himself down). 

Since your leaving the BAU, he’s left a series of trinkets on his desk that remind him of you. A little ceramic blue bird beside the animal skull models. It’s no bigger than his pinky finger and when he asked you why you gifted it to him, you told him that it represents hope and renewal. He thinks he needs a lot of that.

In the first drawer of his desk is a framed picture of you and him at a Doctor Who convention with him dressed up as the Tenth Doctor and you in all blue in an attempt to dress up as TARDIS. It was a fun and silly day but it was enjoyable and that was what mattered. After a series of unfortunate events, Derek happened across the photo, claiming that there was no platonic explanation for it. 

(“Care to explain this?” He had asked, holding the frame with a grin on his face. He was looking into Spencer’s desk for a specific file on the Benson murders, only to be met with a very familiar face.

Spencer immediately lunged for the photograph, grabbing it and securing it back in his desk with a heavy slam. “Don’t.”

Derek put his hands up in mock surrender, although his eyes were sympathetic. “There’s nothing platonic about that, kid.”

He huffed in response, rubbing at his eyes and taking a seat at his desk. “I know.”)

The first time he came to terms with the fact that he actually wanted to be with you was after a specific realisation. Some cases are harder than others. It’s a given; some cases are just more difficult to deal with and therefore harder to compartmentalise. Each person is different, especially when you factor in trauma. Derek struggles when pedophilia is involved, and JJ finds suicide cases the worst. Hotch can barely function properly when children are targeted, and Emily hides behind a mask so effortlessly that the most mundane things can get to her. After a period of thought, Spencer realises what he struggles to deal with: bullying.  

“You should have– you should have heard what they were saying!” Spencer insists, pacing his living room floor while throwing his hands up in the air in frustration. 

He had just returned home from a case in West Bune, Texas, and it was probably one of the most difficult cases he had to go through. The UnSub was a teenager named Owen and after a very tense confrontation with him outside the police department, he was taken into custody. The entire nature of the case irked him. So many deaths could have been prevented if people just did something but now a boy is in custody with a body count nearing the double digits. 

“They didn’t even try to deal with the bullying,” he continues, running his fingers through his now long hair. He can’t bring himself to get it cut; especially not after the incident with Hankel some moons ago. 

You don’t say anything, sitting on his couch and sipping your tea, your eyes trained on the way he paces back and forth. 

“People are dead because of them. I’m not saying that they didn’t deserve it because they did, but something should have changed.” His words are harsh as he continues to walk, clenching and unclenching his hands. 

“You can’t change anything about it now,” You say gently, your gaze shifting from his hands to his arms to his face. “What’s done is done. All we can do is hope that the school board learns from their mistakes.”

“But they don’t!” He exclaims, turning to face you. He swallows thickly before sighing, slumping into the seat beside you and pressing himself into his side. “It’s just so… frustrating. They never learn.”

You nod, running your fingers through the knots in his hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“That could have been me,” he says quietly, burying his face into the palms of his hands. He presses the pads of his fingers into the corners of his eyes, stars dotting his vision.

“But it’s not,” you say firmly. “You’re a good person, Spencer. You’re saving people and putting the bad guys away. That’s a far cry away from being an UnSub.”

You’re looking at him now and he tilts his head to meet your gaze. You’re so close to him and Spencer can hear his heart pounding in his ears. 

Kiss her.

The words that enter Spencer’s mind are enough to give him whiplash and he pulls away, pretending that he doesn’t see the hurt in your eyes when he does. 

What?

“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning up at him. 

“Yeah,” he murmurs, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He offers a smile. “I’m okay.”

*** 

“Emily doesn’t blame you, you know.”

The words hang in the air as you sit on the floor of your bedroom, the thundering storm pounding against your windows. Spencer shrugs, sitting next to you. The power is out across Washington and the flickering of candles helps to light up the room. Spencer fiddles with the rug on the floor and your brows knit together. 

“Walter.”

“I know.” He buries his face in his hands and lets out a groan. “I know, I know. It’s not my fault. It just feels like it, you know? We knew that it was a cult but we didn’t know that it was… that bad. God, angel, you should have seen her. She was beat up and everything and it feels like I could have done something.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” you chastise, brushing your shoulder against his for a moment. “You really need to take better care of yourself.”

He doesn’t respond, simply moving so that he’s lying down on the rug in your room. It’s a soft tufted rug that goes from a dark purple in the middle to white around the edges. It’s one of his favourite rugs in the world. You’re sitting cross legged beside him, leaning against the bed. The soft glow of the candles illuminate your face and you truly look like an angel in this light. 

He just came back from a case in La Plata County in Colorado and he was ordered to take a week off by Hotch to deal with the traumatics of the case. What started out as an undercover investigation in an underground cult led to a gun fight and a bombing, all while Spencer and Emily were inside the compound. The way Emily looked so in pain after the whole ordeal would haunt him forever; the black eye she suffered from, the bruising to her chest… he doesn’t even want to think about the rest of the things that could have happened. 

“Stop.”

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he sucks in a breath.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says meekly, playing with the rug underneath him.

“It’s not your fault.” You smile at him before hitting him lightly with one of your pillows. “Stop that.”

He laughs loudly, grunting a little from the impact of the pillow colliding with his face. “Hey!”

You grin teasingly and hit him again with the pillow. He retaliates quickly, gripping the pillow and trying to tug it out of your hands. Your grip is a lot stronger than he thought it was and his tug sends you flying towards him, a shriek leaving your lips as your forehead bounces off his. 

A hiss of pain leaves your lips but you’re laughing as you clutch your forehead. “Spencer what the hell?!”

“I’m sorry!” He says, not really meaning it, and rubbing at his head. He’s laughing along, his cheeks warm as he smiles up at you. His hands move to your face, one to your cheek and the other to brush the hair on your forehead to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You laugh again, smiling a brilliantly beautiful toothy smile. The candlelight dances in your eyes with a warm orange light as you do. “Are you?”

His gaze meets yours, watching the way you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and the way your eyes crinkles when you smile. He watches the way you lean against the side of the bed, tilting your head back with your eyes closed. God. He swears you’re trying to kill him.

“Spencer?” You ask with a soft chuckle, and the sound is so pretty that he doesn’t mind the fact that you find amusement at his expense. “Are you okay?”

He nods, his throat dry and his cheeks hot. He blames the candles. 

*** 

The couch is never comfortable. You are well aware that the couch feels strangely lumpy and you’re pretty sure one of the springs is broken but for some reason you keep insisting to take it whenever you stay at Spencer’s apartment. The blanket he lets you use is thick and cosy to make up for it and the pillow is always fluffed. 

“Good morning.”

Spencer’s voice is raspy with early morning vocal fry and it makes your heart lurch in your throat. 

“Morning,” you murmur, eyes still closed in an attempt to calm yourself down. Maybe if you don’t see him you won’t embarrass yourself.

“Still tired?” He asks, and you hear him start the coffee machine. There’s the sound of rustling in the background along with the flicking of a switch. Too many sounds for too early of a day.

“Mm.”

He chuckles, deep and rumbling, before sipping some water. “Yesterday was fun.”

Yesterday involved fourteen hours of watching Doctor Who and passing half way through the nineteenth episode after stuffing yourself full of junk food. Yesterday involved passing out on Spencer, forcing him to move you to the couch and into a position that wasn’t going to destroy your neck. Yesterday involved the most platonic and innocent activities known to Earth, despite the way his words insinuated something entirely differently. 

“You fell asleep before the best part,” he says, pouring himself a cup of coffee. 

“You could have watched without me.”

He shakes his head as he stirs the sugar. “That wouldn’t have been right.”

A hum leaves your lips as you get up from the couch, stretching your arms and making your way over to him from behind the kitchen island. You’re wearing one of his old Doctor Who t-shirts that he let you keep, the sleeves reaching just past your elbows. Your hair is a mess and your eyes are half closed but you look so…

Cute. Seeing you in his shirt drives him wild. There’s something possessive about it and for a second he feels gross. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you but he’s obviously not; you’re the one who stole that shirt from him many moons ago and you’re the one who chose to wear it that day. Regardless, he can’t help but be transfixed as you walk around his kitchen like it’s your own home. Spencer’s eyes follow your figure as you pull open one of his cupboards and grab your mug (a really stupid avocado mug that’s bright green with a lid) before pouring some coffee into it. 

“You’ve been going to your NA meetings, right?” You ask him, sipping your drink.

He nods immediately, his gaze never leaving you. “Yeah. Once a week.”

“That’s good!” You tell him, the caffeine slowly beginning to wake you up. “That’s really good, Walter.”

He smiles at you, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Thank you.”

For a few moments, all he can think about is you. Your hair smells like your special vanilla shampoo that Penelope got you hooked on and your skin smells like lavender and orange blossom. He remembers JJ giving you a sample in the office and you went and ordered a whole bottle during your lunch break right after. The compliments you got that day were like no other, and he remembers the way your eyes would light up every single time someone commented on the perfume, as well as the way you would excitedly talk about the different notes. Now, whenever he smells lavender or oranges he thinks of you. He doesn’t think it’s a problem in the slightest.

You sip your coffee again, the sound of the toaster dinging in the background, accompanied by the thick smell of char. In an instant, Spencer jolts from his place and places two very burnt slices of toast onto the plate, his nose scrunching up in frustration. 

“I was gonna make you breakfast,” he tells you lamely. “I think we should get croissants.”

You laugh, dumping the pieces of toast into the bin and nod. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

*** 

The rare occasion when Spencer drives is when you’re not fit to. He picks you up at two in the morning at a bar and you’re sitting in his passenger seat. Your hair has a few tangles here and there and you’re wearing the prettiest purple dress. 

“You really didn’t have to pick me up,” you tell him tiredly, rubbing at your eyes. “I could have gotten a taxi.”

Spencer rolls his eyes, leaning over the console to buckle in your seatbelt. “You called me, I’m here. I’m not going to let you get into a stranger’s car when you’re drunk.”

 “I’m not drunk!” You protest, your head leaning against the car door. “I had one drink.”

“Which can lead to a blood alcohol level of 0.01 to 0.03,” Spencer says, shooting you a smile. “I’d rather not risk it, angel.”

You groan and lean back on the chair. “I swear I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t your friends take you home?” He asks, starting the ignition. “Didn’t you say you were going to hitch a ride with them?”

A hum leaves your lips and you nod. “That was the plan. But one of the designated drivers couldn’t come last minute and the car wasn’t big enough.”

Spencer frowns, backing out of the driveway. “How long were you waiting outside of the bar?”

“Um…” your brows furrow as you think of the answer and you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. “Ten minutes?”

“(Y/N).”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would have been that long,” you huff, rubbing at your eyes. “I promise I was careful.”

Spencer shoots you a frustrated look, sipping at his lukewarm takeaway cup of filtered coffee but keeping his eyes on the road. “You should have called me sooner.”

“I felt bad,” you respond sheepishly, offering him a guilty smile.

Spencer hums, running a hand through his hair. He hasn’t had the time to get it cut so for the time being it’s left slicked back and out of his eyes. He’s wearing his glasses now, too, because he didn’t have the time to put in his contacts. He looks a lot better than he did eight months ago, and he feels it, too. The white t-shirt he’s wearing is filled a little better now that he’s gained a little weight. Happy weight you had told him, pinching at his sides, it means you’re healing.

“Can you pull over?”

Your voice comes out small and Spencer snaps his head to look in your direction. “Yeah. Yeah, of course– hold on.”

He parks at a random McDonald’s on the side of the freeway and you immediately get out of the car and hurl in one of the bushes. He grimaces, getting out of the car to rub your back comfortingly.

“You okay?” He asks, continuing to rub circles on your back. He holds your hair away from your face, watches as your necklace dangles from your neck and catches the light from the 24/7 fast food place.

“... I might have had a little more than one drink.”

He can’t bring himself to get upset at you. Instead, Spencer just sighs and brandishes a bottle of water from the side pocket of his car. “Sip it slowly.”

You do as asked, taking small tentative sips of the cold water. He holds your hair in place, brushing a few strands away from your eyes and forehead. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you taking a taxi,” Spencer says with a hum, satisfied when you finish drinking half the bottle. “What if you threw up in their car?”

You groan, wiping a hand over your face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, angel,” he says sympathetically, lifting your chin with his index finger so that you’re looking at him. “I just worry. You should be able to rely on me, too, you know.”

“Okay,” you say through drunken stupor. “Didn’t mean to worry you, Walter.”

“I know,” he repeats softly, running his fingers through your hair. “Hey. Look up.”

You do, and you stare up at the sky. Stars dot and litter the navy sky, and if you squint you could see a faint blue star.

“That’s Venus,” he explains, gesturing to the little dot. He points to a smaller, redder light just below it. “That’s Mars.”

Even amidst the light pollution, the planets shine brightly. Your gaze is fixed upon the little planets and stars, enjoying the midsummer night’s breeze, the nausea you felt moments prior beginning to subside.

“Do you know what Venus represents?” Spencer asks softly, brushing his shoulder against yours, smiling when you shake your head. “Venus represents love and beauty in Roman mythology.”

You laugh, pressing your nose into his shoulder. “Do you believe that?”

“Scientifically? No,” he admits, “Venus is a planet. It doesn’t really represent anything but a giant ball of gas. But people place significance on insignificant things because it gives them meaning so I understand why they do it.”

It’s quiet for a little while, aside from the occasional sound of a car passing by and a cicada chirping. A cool breeze blows past but it’s more comforting than anything as the two of you sit on the hood of his car: an old 1965 Volvo Amazon in the colour blue horizon with paint chipping off at the inner fenders and bumper ends. He lets you sit on his jacket, your dress and legs protected from the dirty car bonnet. Your head is on his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his and you’ve traded your heels for a pair of Spencer’s spare mis-matched socks.

“(Y/N),” he whispers, rubbing his hand on your arm. “We should get you home.”

You nod, wiggling your toes in the socks. “Yeah.”

Spencer pauses and looks at you, watching as you yawn and hop off the car. He says your name again, chuckling a little bit when you look up at him a little dazed. The words get caught in his chest as he takes a tentative step closer to you. You’re so close. Just one small move. That’s all it would take… he dismisses the thoughts when he can smell the liquor on your skin. 

“You’re my best friend,” he says quietly after several moments of silence. 

You smile at him. “You’re my best friend, too.”

He drives you home that day with more regret than necessary. He wishes he kissed you. It would have made his life so much easier.

← previous part || next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

[itgirlgyu]

WHAT'S YOUR BIRTH TIME?

txt!ot5. ︵you ask them for their birth time.

장르 : fluffy / humor. gen!r. w☆rnings: basically the entire thing. wordc𝐨unt—1338..

YEONJUN.

his eyes glaze over like the pupils of a crow in front of the shiniest object the bird has ever laid its beady little eyes on—the brightness of it almost blinding you.

it would be an understatement to say that he was cooperative with you, considering how he fast he fished his phone out of his pocket and immediately dialled up his mother's number in front of you and parroting the question you had asked of him to his mother, following a few minutes of intense listening as you tried to figure out the time by the expression on his pretty face.

“6 pm? you guessed hopefully, only to welcome a vehement shaking of his head.

yeonjun corrected your assumption.

“oh and apparently the doctor who delivered me was beaten to a pulp because his infidelity was caught by his wife and his boyfriend right outside the operation theatre.” he added nonchalantly, as though that would somehow align the stars a bit differently affecting his chart.

the entire evening you two spend looking over his chart to the best of your abilities—he was a bit too much into it if you were being honest—and having a great time with the love of your life—not for long though. after the course of your relationship had run its course, you find out that he was dating an actual astrologer now.

SOOBIN.

“my birth time? what are you going to do with it?”

the look beneath his glasses is innocent, unalarmed—until it is not. suddenly as though the realisation had finally finished processing and made a ding! noise notifying him that he was being asked about his personal information; one which he wasn't even aware of.

“just,” you drawl, wary of his judgement that would follow the real reason behind it, “can't a person be curious?”

“of someone's personal information?”

he is right of course, but you'd be damned if you let that stop you.

“i just wanted to check your chart.” you chose honesty. perhaps it was soobin's good nature or the fact he is a sagittarius sun, but the figurative ominous lighting casting upon the two of you had begun to wane gradually and finally you could see the light behind his dimpled cheeks.

“oh you should have said so!” soobin giggled, sipping on his iced americano,” i don’ know that silly.”

you can't tell if he's lying to you or he really doesn't know.

“wait I think my mother said the sun was casting a rose gold glow when she was crowning, does that help?”

BEOMGYU.

you want to check whether we're soulmates or what?”

“whaaaaaaa—” you interrupt yourself by pressing the now damp tissue on your face trying to make it seem as though you're only gently dabbing away the bit of precipitation on your face that appears like dew on the grass blades during the effervescent winter morning whilst in reality it was more like swiping away a tsunami that your pores had decided to spit out at the thought being found out about your real intentions.

you really were trying to figure out whether he was compatible with you or not.

to be honest, this was the last attempt to give this relationship a chance. the few weeks you had begun to hang out with beomgyu with the intention of dating, he had been doing everything possible to confuse the hell out of you. at one point you wanted nothing to do with him, perhaps even change your phone number and cut off the friend that tried to set you two up whilst the other times you wanted nothing more than to be with the man—driving you to believe in superstitions such as this.

“nope!” you lied, swiping away the astrology website you had pulled up on your phone underneath the table without appearing suspicious.

“okay ill tell you,” he leaned into the table, showing off the dimple on his cheek trying to tempt you, “the time when i just popped out apparently a lightning has struck that hospital, but especially the theatre where I was being birthed in, hitting the digital clock on the wheel forever making it stuck to the time when i was born.”

the moment he finished narrating his story a distant rumble could be heard as dark clouds begun to swoop on above the two in the outdoor cafe, a nun’s veil was trampled on by a fumbling toddler causing her to fall whilst a kid was incessantly wailing on the table to the right of you two.

“it was 4:44 am.”

at least you both turned out to be 65% compatible.

TAEHYUN.

“you believe in that?”

rather than a judgmental tinge in his tone as you had expected, it was the concern that surprised you. gleaming round eyes brimming with apprehension in a way that suggested he was ready to escort you to a mental hospital in a wheelchair depending on your answer.

“It's not more so about believing totally, “ you tried to play it off cool but his arresting gaze was making it a tad bit hard to do a roundabout with your intentions, “ it's more about fun and some things are sometimes accurate based on your belief, and the methods of checking charts.”

“so would you tell me now?” you pressed on. the cat was out of the bag anyway, he either way had started to question your sanity and you might as well be judged with his birth time in your hand than without.

“fine ill give it to you, but you have to show me how accurate it is when it is mostly proven to be pseudo science. “

and so you did, pulling up his vedic chart you two spent the night away traumatising him with certain specific things about him from mole on the special place to the destination it would lead him to from your limited knowing about interpreting the chart but the reception wasn't as bad. taehyun hadn't turned and given you the look that assured you that the relationship was over yet.

but you could have never expected what was about to come: a few months after the relationship had ended naturally, you could never even imagine you'd see him on a twitter live debate with a famous astrologer about how much truth there is in chart reading and how much is it just basic behavioural tendencies.

HUENING KAI.

he blinks once; and then twice with his polite smile glued to his lips as he processes the question you had just asked him. it was the first time someone had inquired about such a mundane yet invasive question about his life; asking if he had all of his 32 teeth intact was a more common topic in his books than someone asking for his birth time, which he in fact was not aware of.

“i don't know, “ he chuckled awkwardly, hoping you'd let go of the topic naturally.

“can't you ask your mother?”

kai was not ready for you to bring up his mother so soon into the conversation—considering it was just your first date with him. although a side of him did enjoy how passionate you were about your belief and whether that related to the percentage of seriousness she was looking forward to with him. it almost made his heart skip a beat.

kai excused himself to the washroom to satiate his frenzied heart and finally asked google what it meant when a person really badly wanted to know your birth time. the array of results that turned up had kai sitting on the seat of his toilet in shock and scrolling for minutes—just long enough to kill any suspicions of him causing stomach issues. frankly what turned up had kai rattled to the core.

he had only one conclusion to this whole fiasco: to run the fuck away.

although he paid the bill before he slipped away from the front gate after he realised he was a bit too big to slip away from the washroom window.

﹙ 𓇼⃝ ∗ ﹚this is a manifestation post like pls drop your birth time like kai did.

© ITGiRLGYU⠀⠀. feedbacks and reblogs are appreciated! TAGLiST @ox1-lovesick @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @forever-in-the-sky2 @beoms-sugar @gyuletters

[genderqueerdykes]

TW: Transphobia, intentional misgendering/mentions of abuse, gaslighting, and generally gross behavior. You asked for experiences from transmasc people, so, here I am. I'm a transmasc person. Still figuring out what kind of person that is, but... I'm transmasc, which is what matters here. I've been told a LOT of harmful things in the community, both from abusers and from friends(who I no longer talk to). This is my experience. My first real experience with all of this was from a shitty ex, who at that point controlled my life and had identified as bi since he was 12. He denied me the ability to transition (I couldn't drive myself to the doctor and had no money to pay for more than the prescription), saying that I would turn into a monster and break up with him, abuse him, become violent, etc. He pressured me into using she/her pronouns along with he/they. I used genderfluid transmasc at the time as my labels, and he used this as an excuse to proudly call me "his wife in training", saying that because I didn't bind half the time, I was practically a woman. I'm now in therapy because while the term genderfluid fits, I legitimately get panicked when I try to use it because not only did he use it against me, but people used it to... detransify me. De-masc me.

Now, I'm a feminine person in some respects. I like a good accessory and bright colors and cute things. But because I wasn't performing hypermasculinity to become "a true man", people used genderfluid as a term to say "Well, clearly you're fine with female pronouns and terms because you wear earrings/paint your nails, and genderfluid falls in the scale of woman, so I'll just call you woman." People used the term so often to de-transify me, ESPECIALLY in the community.

When out and about, it does not matter if I have he/him or they/them pins on- people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

I'm nervous about top surgery sometime this year or next year. I want to keep a little bit of my chest, because I'm a larger person- but I'm legitimately worried my doctor will go against my wishes and give me a bird chest or carve out too much. I want top surgery not only because it will make me feel more like myself, but because my stupid chest is what EVERYONE points to- queer or non- and says that "but you have that, shouldn't you enjoy it?"

Being labeled a faker, a potential monster in the making, as someone who's just confused, and worst of all, being labeled as someone who didn't know what my own label meant... it's worn me down. I'm not sure what to do with myself, and am in gender therapy to unpack the trauma of what other people have placed onto me, both queer and cishet alike. I have quite a few understanding, loving friends in the community- but there have been just as many people who haven't understood and try to fit me into a box until I bled.

This stuff isn't just "oh silly transmasc! That's part of the experience! You just have to deal with it!" I don't, actually. And I refuse to. I refuse to give up the things I love for other people's assumptions of my body, label or identity. Even if it hurts to fight back, I'm tired of letting transphobes inside and outside our community harm me based on what THEY think I should be. This is my story. Sorry if it's bleak, but... that's the truth. I hope it helps others see that blaming us for all the harm the community faces, and making us into your blank dolls to play with, breaks us. It's awful. Please, treat us better. We deserve better. We always have.

Thank you for letting us share our stories.

thank you for taking the time to type this out and share, i really appreciate it. this is very insightful and important. i can't believe how awful people are to you. that shouldn't be happening. i don't want to take away from your story so i'll keep it brief

people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

this happens so often. this is what i mean when i say that trans men and mascs are also affected by transmisogyny. many people mistake trans men and mascs for trans women and transfems. it's a real thing and we need to acknowledge it.

[itaipava]

— daniel ricciardo being a simp for you.

he has such a unique and pure way of making you laugh; with silly jokes, exaggerated imitations of characters or people you don’t like, tickling you until you’re out of breath, leaving kisses all over your face while holding you as close to him as possible… he’s a ray of sunshine in your life.

he always makes eye contact with you as you speak; it doesn’t matter if you’re just rambling about your day or telling him some funny story from your childhood, he looks at you intently while caressing your hand. he wants you to know that he is paying attention to everything you are saying, that he is listening to you and everything you say is important to him.

when he needs to leave early because of work, he tucks the blankets around you and leaves a kiss on your forehead, then lightly caresses your cheek. he prepares your breakfast and leaves a note beside it; an explanation of why he needed to leave early and when he comes back. (he also draws two birds on a tree branch with a heart around them both. the biggest bird - that’s him - has heart eyes as he looks at you)

he buys all your favorite things; he ensures that your house always has those favorite beauty products of yours or those sweets you love the most. and he also likes to spoil you; he buys things he thinks you’ll like and things you’ve looked at in the shop window or on the internet. you think he forgot about it, but you’re delightfully surprised to see him with a bright smile as he hands you a gift package when he gets home; he just hugs and kisses you, saying that you deserve so much more than this gift.

he writes important things and puts them on a magnet on the fridge; like birthdays of your mutual friends, date nights —and he puts a heart around the date to demonstrate that it’s your day — and even appointments with dentists or doctors so you don’t forget.

he always plans a date for the two of you to have some time together. he plans everything perfectly because he wants you to feel as happy and comfortable as possible, so everything you like and admire the most will be there. and he doesn’t let anything or anyone get in the way of this night, because it’s all dedicated to you and only you.

he loves spending time with you and moments like that are so precious and unique to him. he doesn’t care if you’re just lying down caressing each other while watching some bad movie on netflix or going for a fun walk around town, any time with you is perfect for him.

when you go out and you’re carrying lots of bags, he’ll take them out of your hand and hold them for you until you get home.

he is the type of boyfriend who will use your purse as if it were his and he loves that. but when you go to buy a new purse, he wants you to buy one that suits him.

he has a space in his backpack that are just things for you; meds, band-aids, your favorite candies etc. and he also always has a hair elastic on his wrist just in case you need it; and in fact it is he who ties your hair for you - he loves taking care of your hair.

he always comes home with something for you; your favorite flower, that book you’ve wanted for a while, your favorite food or candy.. he always wants to please you.

before leaving the house he hugs you tightly, leaving a kiss on the top of your head before taking your face with both hands and kissing your forehead and finally your lips. you have to remind him to go otherwise he will be late; he just can’t stop leaving soft kisses all over your face. and, with a smile, he says “i love you, i’ll be back soon, love” before finally leaving.

he has a necklace with your initials and he never takes it off - or hides it. in every photo or interview he appears with your initials and his proud smile says enough.

[beddybites]

Chop chop Hashira girl, i want the backstories of the 3, 30 episodes and 15 seasons for tomorrow (i love them so much sobs)

first of all , honored u see me as the hashira girl

the story is still very much in development but since ur interested ill at least tell u a bit about them!

im so sorry this took so long :,D none of my drafts about this post ever saved so i lost the strength

Huntwoe Hill is a dark fantasy story with central themes on family and relationships and the dark forces that can harm them— whether it be from outside the family, or inside

i recently had to make a comic page about them, so i’ll share that here!

the first novel focuses on Wren Bishop, a sensitive and witty 18 year old girl who struggles with depression and left home as a result of her family’s treatment of her. as the “black sheep” of the Belladonna family, she has a habit of being really hard on herself. she specializes in photography and poetry, and loves birds

her closest friend is her older cousin Russel Rook (23), an elementary school music teacher and the golden boy of the Belladonna family. he’s a very kind hearted man who has been by Wren’s side since she was born. he’s dating a woman named Daisy, and volunteered to help chaperone her students on a field trip

Russel, Daisy, and 28 children go missing during their stay on Huntwoe Hill, a giant mountain that hundreds and thousands of people have died or gone missing in. because of this, the teachers and their students are almost immediately deemed to have not survived the harsh conditions of the mountain. Wren senses something is wrong, and goes on a one-man search for them

along the way she encounters their Uncle Foggy, who she had not seen in over eight years, as he was kicked out of the Belladonna family for reasons she was never told about. he’s a jaded and silly thirty year old man who used to tell his nieces and nephews all sorts of stories about the mountain. estranged and distancing himself, he sought to protect his family and uncover a curse inflicted upon them

Uncle Foggy reveals to Wren that the mountain serves as a doorway for all kinds of creatures and ghouls, and he works for an organization that hunts them

Wren, of course, doesn’t believe him until she encounters these creatures first hand

i can go into more depth about them in the future! this story has been years in the making and it’s still heavy in development, and i dont typically talk about my own oc’s, so we’ll see …

there is a much much larger cast, i’ve only designed three of them though haha

main sources of inspiration for this story stem from Demon Slayer, Haunting of Hill House, Midnight Mass, Soul Eater and the Doctor Strange comics/movies from MARVEL

thank you for being interested in them ahhhh! apologies again for how long this took :,0

[cyborg-franky]

I read that you don’t do stories with kids. But I was just wondering if you do one if they were just turned into a child. Like Toshi Toshi no Mi has the power to alter the ages of people. Example “Like if WB or Marco was turned into a child but they were still adults on the inside and how the crew would react.” It’s fine if it’s a no I just wanted to ask. Thank you.

Oooh these are fun. I can have a good time with these : D

Marco

He’d been around longer than most of the crew so seeing a tiny little pineapple with fluffy hair and wide-open eyes caused many different reactions.

Ace can’t stop laughing at how silly he looks and how high-pitched his yoi’s come out. His clothes are so big and baggy on him like he’d stolen from a much bigger person.

Thatch can’t stop laughing either and just calls him little guy and baby bird alot which causes Marco to huff and stomp around the deck irritated.

Pop’s thinks it’s cute, he remembers when Marco was a young boy. Izou met Marco when they were both young so it doesn’t really phase him.

Everyone is either shocked or highly amused at him.

However, Marco is still the ships doctor and must carry on his duties until the effects wear off.

It’s surreal seeing Marco needing a pile of cushions to sit at his desk. It’s an incredibly bizarre scenario to have to talk to someone who looks like a child about medical issues.

Marco doesn’t like being in this form and his normally cool and calm attitude is challenged with some of the crews reactions.

The nurses adore him though.

Kid

Well, his arms back at least? Everyone just stares at this small spikey-haired kid whos screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs, already pissed off that everyone is gawking at him.

“What are you fuckin’ idiots lookin’ at?” He snaps, stamping his feet on the deck, hands on his hips as he narrows his eyes. It looks so silly seeing his enraged brat in an oversized coat as he starts to throw punches at the legs of his crew.

Killer feels his small fists against his leg, sighs, and just picks him up. Letting Kid get a piggyback ride because he likes to be up high. 

Kid is furious about the change and even uses his skills with metalwork to make himself big shoes to walk in, hating feeling so emasculated. 

He’s still loud as all hell and his crew is smart enough to hide laughter and amusement behind their hands.

“If any of you tell that shitty doctor or straw hat about this, it’ll be the last thing you do,” though it was hard to take a threat from a 6-year-old very seriously.

Zoro

He couldn’t give a fuck if he was turned into a kid, he knew it would wear off in time so he just shrugged his shoulders. 

Until Sanji said something, going for the kill [and by kill I mean he smacks at Sanji’s ankles or bites his legs] 

Everyone either sighed, laughing, or just stood in pure bewilderment at Sanji screaming and shaking his leg as hard as he could while a small Zoro held onto his leg by his teeth for dear life.

Nami is the second biggest problem to Zoro’s current predicament though. Every time he tries to drink booze she slaps it off the table or out of his hand [typical orange cat behavior] and starts to wave her finger in his face telling him he’s too young to drink.

Luffy tries to play with Zoro like he’s actually a kid, swinging him around and yelling happily.

Buggy

Ever seen a grown man have a total breakdown? I mean, if you know Buggy that’s probably daily.

He’s small and he’s flapping his arms and screaming but everyone is just crouched down and looking at their beloved captain in complete awe. He’s so adorable, everyone who tries to pick him up either gets a foot or a fist square in their face as he hisses and curses.

Galdino and Alvida sigh, they look like single moms who just got back from the school run as they drag Buggy away from everyone. They already felt like a babysitter and they didn't need it to be literally.

All his crew are completely besotted with how adorable their captain looks as a kid. Buggy half loves the attention and half wishes everyone would take a long walk off a short plank. 

It’s not like people take him super seriously anyway but he didn’t need to have people trying to pinch his cheeks.

If Shanks finds out about this Buggy will never hear the end of it. Maybe Alvida snuck a few photos for some blackmail at a later date when Buggy was being his unreasonable self.

[serendipityandbenevolence]

Baizhu x Reader (Arranged Marriage)

I know this is a bit (lot) different to what I normally post on this account, but I am a SUCKER for arranged marriages in fanfic, so I am choosing to disregard my sagau roots (not permanently dw) It’s a bit out of my comfort zone, but I really hope it comes out well :)

Contains - You getting injured, you and baizhu having beef (enemies to lovers fr), you and baizhu not realising that you are engaged to each other, arranged marriage (duh) your dad kinda sucks tbh

It took you rolling your ankle to realise how bad an idea climbing a mountain unprepared was. Granted, when you had started climbing the mountain, you had thought you were prepared. Your clothing was (somewhat) practical, you had stolen a pair of your father’s shoes that he used when hiking and you had found a nice leather satchel to hold your snacks and hand shovel. 

It had been fine at first, nothing more than a pleasant hike, with bird chirping and a soft breeze whistling through the trees. But with every step you took, the path became steeper, the sun became hotter and the god-damned shoes you bothered from your father hurt more. They had seemed a bit large when you first put them on, but now it felt like you were going to trip over them with every step. 

Your clothes weren’t faring much better. Your good, practical clothing had caught on nearly every single branch and shrub you passed. You would have to hide them when you got home, because you did not want to have to explain to your parents exactly how your clothing got so tattered and torn. The only things that hadn’t let you down was the satchel and your snacks, although the snacks were long gone now, despite not even reaching the top of the mountain.

Looking back on the moment, it seemed almost like one of those comedy performances, that wandering artisans performed in the town square. It was ironic, truly, how quickly everything fell apart. A single stone in your path, that you hadn’t even noticed until you were stepping on it. Your father’s shoes skidded off it, causing your ankle to twist painfully and send you careening into a nearby bush, your shirt tearing even more as the branches scraped your skin. 

And there you lay, facedown in a bush in the middle of nowhere, close to the peak of a nearly abandoned mountain trail, with nothing but a satchel and a sprained ankle. 

All of this for a fucking flower.

It was silly, you were aware of that. Your mother had told you stories about a kind of flower that only grew on this particular mountain, whose petals formed a distinctive heart shape, and which was said to bless whoever received one with true love. It was cheesy, yes, but that didn’t stop many young men and women from climbing the mountain in order to pick them for their fiances. But as the years passed, the flowers became more and more sparse, thanks to the droves of hopeless romantics picking them all. And now, they are said to only be found at the very top of the mountain, where the lovers were too scared to climb.

You didn’t even know if Baizhu liked flowers. 

You’d never met him, which was surprising considering how long he’d been a client of your father. Your father, a renowned supplier of medicinal herbs, was thrilled when Baizhu first began working with him. Prior to that, all his business had been to local doctors and healers, but having a client in far-away Liyue Harbor excited him, especially a doctor of such a stellar reputation. 

You almost felt like you did know him, with how much your father talked about Baizhu. Every shipment of goods that was requested meant another long monologue over the dining table about how fortunate he was to have such a consistent and well-paying client. You almost asked your father if HE wanted to marry Dr Baizhu, but you thankfully refrained. 

You knew your father had been dropping hints to Baizhu for a while now, about how he hoped his child would be married soon, about how Baizhu surely must be so lonely without a spouse, about how Baizhu really just felt like he was part of the family already. What you hadn’t expected was for Baizhu to accept.

And now, here you were, a week out from your wedding and nearly passed out on the side of a road, trying to get that god-damned flower. 

There was no way that the situation could get any worse.

“Oh dear! Are you alright?”

Or maybe it could. 

You truly had the worst luck. How was it that during the most embarrassing moment of your life, a person had to appear? This was an abandoned trail! 

“Please … just leave me here. I’m already contemplating my life choices and regretting the actions I’ve taken to get here, my pride can’t take another hit.”

“I really… can’t just leave you here, you know that, right?” The voice, which you could now identify as male, sounded like it was trying to hold back laughter, while also truly sounding concerned.

“I assure you, you can. Please do. Keep continuing on your way.”

There was silence for a moment, and you almost allowed yourself to hope that whoever this man was had left, until you felt a pair of hands grab your shoulders and pull you out of the bush, depositing you in a rather undignified heap on the ground.  

“My sincerest apologies about your pride. Are you injured?”

You sighed and made your best effort to fix your hair, attempting to look less like you just fell into a bush. Your saviour had the audacity to look perfectly put together, with barely a hair out of place, despite having just hiked the same distance as you. Though he also looked far more prepared, with shoes that actually fit and an entire bag filled with supplies.

“Only the aforementioned pride and my ankle,” You sighed, looking down at the already bruised and swollen skin, then up at the nearly vertical path ahead of you.

“I truly hope you don’t plan on continuing to climb with that ankle of yours?” He questioned, squatting down to get a better view at your injury, laying a gentle hand upon it.

You chose to ignore the question, still hoping to find a way to get to the top of the mountain, instead taking the opportunity to stare at the man. He had the most intriguing golden eyes, with slitted pupils like a snake, which were sharply fixed on your ankle.

“Your lack of a response speaks wonders, so let me rephrase. You will not be continuing to climb with that ankle of yours.” His eyes met yours, looking for any argument.

“And how do you plan to stop me?”

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

For a man who initially seemed so polite, he sure had a way of getting on your nerves. You’d spent the first 10 minutes of him carrying you back down the mountain (over his shoulder!) trying to convince him to put you down and when that hadn’t worked, you’d settled on silent treatment. But even that was testing your patience, you’d become tired of watching the sun creep towards the horizon, of listening to the birds singing up above, of resisting the urge to ask him what hair products he used to make his hair so silky.

“So…”

“Oh, you want to make conversation now? Finally given up on ignoring me?” He laughed at you, making you grit your teeth.

“Alright, I get it! You’re acting in my best interests by not letting me continue climbing the mountain, you don’t have to act all high and mighty about it!” You cut your angry tirade off with an annoyed huff, turning your face away from him.

“Why were you even climbing up there to begin with? It’s certainly not a beginners trail.”

“Oh, uhm, you know…”

“I certainly don’t know, which is why I’m asking you, but I appreciate the faith you have in thinking I can read your mind.”

You smacked his shoulder once, then a second time when you noticed he was laughing.

“But seriously… why?” He turned to face you, eyes searching your face for some sort of answer, before sighing and turning back towards the path.

You were silent for a long moment before remembering that this man had seen you half-knocked out in a bush on the side of a road. Your dignity was long gone.

“Don’t mock me for it, but I was going to try and find one of those flowers…”

“The True Love’s Bloom?”

“Yes and don’t you dare make fun of me for this, I get married in a week and I’m emotionally sensitive.”

“I wouldn’t dream of hurting your feelings and anyway, that’s what I was looking for as well.“ 

It took you a moment for it to sink it, before you turned to look at him.

“Really? I didn’t take you for the romantic type. Which poor soul got roped into marrying you?”

“I could say the same to you. Here I was, being nice to you and you repay it by insulting me? I’ll have you know, I was the one who got roped in. I think I would’ve had assassins sent after me if I refused one more time.”

You laughed and turned back around, but as you did, a small alcove in the nearby rock caught your eye. It was becoming darker by the second, but even with the fading light you could make out the shape of…

“Over there!”

The man paused and gave a sigh.

“This better not be a ploy to get me to put you down, so that you can do something potentially life endangering again.”

“The flowers! Over there!”

He turned his head and gave a small laugh of surprise as he spotted them too.

“Well, what do you know? Maybe being forced to carry you back down this hill was a blessing in disguise?” He wandered over to the sheltered patch of dirt, where, hidden from most prying eyes, were two perfect flowers.

He placed you down next to them and began rummaging through his bag, pulling out two shovels.

“I’ll have you know that I actually brought a shovel, I don’t need your equipment!”

“Really, how surprising. Did you bring a pot as well?”

“...”

“...”

“... can I borrow one of yours?”

“Well, I’ll have YOU know…”

And as your bickering echoed across the mountaintop, bringing life to the abandoned trails of a once vibrant mountain, the flowers almost seemed to grow just a little bit more.

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

“Baizhu, what’s that flower sitting over by the window? I’ve never seen anything like it before?”

“Ah Traveler, you have a good eye! It’s called True Love’s Bloom. However, those are actually two flowers. My spouse and I planted them in the same pot when we got married all those years ago and they have grown together over time, becoming so intertwined we can’t separate them. I like to keep them close to me at work, to remind me of my dearest.”

“Your spouse? I didn’t know you were married!”

“You didn’t? I could’ve sworn I had mentioned it? Well then, I shall have to tell you the story of how we met. It all started with them stupidly trying to climb a mountain…”

Guys, this was so much longer than I intended wtf. This was supposed to be a SHORT STORY to go with two other arranged marriage stories. I seriously need to throw my plans out the window at this point. Anyway, I love writing sassy characters, even though im shit at banter, so hopefully this is good/funny?

[pruneunfair]

My feelings on cry or better yet beg and the utter wasted potential for a psychological tragedy of the imbalance of relationships between noblemen and their mistresses

First off, if I was told I could only kill off one male lead, it'd be him

Lot of people rn especially on tik-tok probably would flame me for this with the "at least he loves Layla! He's so protective of her!"

"it's a dark romance! It won't be sunshine and rainbows you snowflake!"

"He just doesnt know how to express his emotions because he's so sheltered!"

No, just no, I don't care how "hot" he is, I don't care if he's your protective little bad boy. I don't care about his supposed character development, That's a straight up abuser who started off killing birds knowing it would damage to Layla to straight up assaulting her. (I don't know if that will stay in the webtoon, but it was in the novel) no character development can make me like a fucking rapist

Like how in the hell is Claudine considered worse than Mathhias, sure she isn't so peachy herself but goddammit to think of the fiance who if anything would be supported had she been the main protagonist, yes she's pretty demeaning, a bit shallow, and only views Matthias as the perfect Duke, but at least she's not going around mentally torturing a boy who can't do anything against her. I haven't gotten to her ending yet but from what I hear, it isn't a good one. She such a wasted opportunity since she is such a perfect example of a woman prepped and groomed to just be a Dukes wife would come out feeling that her worth only comes her husband.

Justice for Claudine, I just know there's a fanfic out there where you get with Riette, grow as your own person, and live a pleasant life.

You wanna know what really hurts me about this manhwa though? The fact that's it's so unintentionally accurate to how horrible it truly is to be a mistress in an era where women, especially women with no royal titles or status, were often treated by rich and powerful men. They would mostly have no right to say no to a man who decides he wants her, Layla romanticizing her abuse is not just heartbreaking but also unfortunately realistic as it's a coping mechanism for those who had endured nothing but abuse their whole life so they tend to shove their feelings in a box and pretend everything is okay (obviously this isn't the same for all victims of abuse, it's one of the many coping mechanisms people could develop)

In a lot of historical manhwa, there's usually the obligatory mistress character designed to be a dumb trashy bimbo to uplift the lead. Most of the time, the mistress in question is either a daughter of minor nobility that was chosen by a Emperor, crown prince, or Duke, or the mistress lived her life as a poor farm girl and in some situations lived a life where no one cared about her and was likely abused, the latter is often rare for these mistress characters since authors of those stories only want you sympathizing with the leads but in rare cases, the mistress did have a hard life but it ends up being undermined to further damage the mistress as torture/revenge porn or in Laylas case: used as an explanation to give a disturbing reason to why she ends up falling in love with Matthias which wouldn't be wrong if the story was written in a way that was a tragic one, not a romantic one.

you would think this kind of glamorouzation of abuse would only exist in the authors mindset and the degeneracy that is a junior high girls mind, but no, the ides that Layla is somehow the one in the wrong for her own abuse and reluctance of Matthias and there is even an Instagram post claiming she has BPD for being too "difficult" they sound like those 1950s doctors that find any reason to lobotomize a patient.

Laylas character does open the truths of what it's truly like to be practically owned by a nobleman, she's not like Rashta or Aisha from divorcing my tyrant husband where she's portrayed as a silly and cute strumpet with ulterior motives, she is genuinely upset but she can't do anything about it so all she can do is convince herself that Matthias loves her so she can keep her sanity, but where it goes wrong is that instead of portraying this as an unhealthy yet sole coping mechanism for an abusive relationship, the story just chalks it down to "silly Layla! You'll see that he's just misunderstood and you really do love him deep down!" Its frankly atrocious that the one time a story has a realistic pair of the typical women in this trope, the first wife who is classy and refined and the mistress who is young and free spirited ends ultimately destroyed yet again with a case black and white writting. One woman must be good and the other woman must be bad.

Frankly these characters are well written for the most part and until I realized I supposed to see Matthias as the love interest and not Kyle, I was fine with who Matthias was since he was presented more so as a villain, the art is also one of the prettiest cottagecore artstyles I've ever seen to the point where the 3D models look really good since it blends in perfectly, it's just sad that cry or better yet beg is a sick twisted tale equivalent to the average Colleen Hoover book.

[perfectlysunny02]

i neeeed a snippet(s) from any of your angsty fics!!! to fill the gap of the missing episode 😅🫶🏻

i haven’t been writing lately, hold on let me check😭 you said any so i’m going to use this as a shameless plug for all

more than miles in my rear view

This is Evan’s dream. He can’t stop him from going after his dream. This is everything Evan has ever worked for, and he’s the only one who doesn’t seem to want it for him.

“I love you,” Tommy says, his throat aching as he forces the words out. “I love you.”

“This isn’t forever,” Evan tells him in return. “I’ll be back soon. I promise. This isn’t forever.”

It might not be forever, but it feels like it. He doesn’t understand how people do this, he doesn’t understand how love is enough to withstand this pain. He already wants to throw in the towel, to say he gives up, he can’t do this, to beg Evan to stay, but he can’t. So he grits his teeth and bears it, and if he makes their goodbye kiss last a little longer, that’s between him and whatever God has decided that he doesn’t deserve to be happy.

i’m bleeding out, i’m bleeding out for you

He was in here with someone important, Bobby or Eddie, he can’t remember. He should be more worried about not remembering, he knows, but he can’t bring himself to focus on anything but shifting through the rubble. Blends of CapCapCap and EddieEddieEddie bleed through his subconsciousness. He has to find them, he has-

He has to get free. He’s trapped, and he can’t breathe.

“Please,” He begs the universe out loud, the word slipping out pained into the settling dust. “Please, please, please.”

He thinks of a brown-haired man, with blue eyes quite like his, he thinks about kissing his cleft. His stomach hurts at the thought. He clutches at his middle and sits down on a slab of rubble. He’s alone here.

signed the man who loves your son

Evan stands there, blinking away tears, as he watches his parents leave, and it absolutely breaks Tommy’s heart.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Tommy whispers, pulling Evan to him. “Come here, baby, you’re okay.” Evan goes willingly

haven’t forgotten my way home

“I’m not really looking for advice here. I’m doing my job, I’m not making any mistakes. Anything beyond that is not your business.”

“Really, Ev?” Tommy scoffs. “It’s not my business? It’s my business that my boyfriend is upset and grieving.”

“Can you stop trying to doctor this, Tommy?!” Buck snaps. “Okay? I need a minute. Can you handle the exam?”

when you love someone

“He’s okay,” Tommy whispers into Evan’s curls as he holds him tight. “He’s okay baby. We’re okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”

so long cowboy, you’re so cool

“My dad owned the farm,” Tommy says, the only sound in the room is his deep drawl and the clank of his fork against the porcelain of his plate. “I spent most of my childhood in these very fields, running as fast as I could away from him. Told myself the moment I turned eighteen, I was out of here, was going to join the army and fly far, far away like a bird.”

“Did you?” Evan asks, his heart in his throat. He has a feeling this isn’t a happy story.

“I did. Was gone for four years. Wasn’t ever going to come back.”

“What happened? What made you come back?”

“My mom asked me too. Dad died at the end of my contract, and I loved my mom, could never tell her no, and she knew that. So, I abandoned my plans to re-enlist and came home. Haven’t left since.”

using this as my fuck it friday. tagging:

@theotherbuckley @diazsdimples @laundryandtaxesworld @tommyscone @tiltingheartand

@runicnotation @rainstorms-by-june @sweaters-and-silly @marvelousbuckley @kinkley-are-adorkable-flirts

@bambi-buckley @ghostbucksters

@ikkesola @desert--moonchild @mythicalamity @kinardsevan @cafe-con-letty

@hyperfocusthusly @bibibibuckleykinard @bidisasterevankinard @cinderellarhea

@wikiangela @geniusjester @raethethey @racerchix21

@drcloyd @gallavenjiam @kinkykinard

@herrmannhalsteadproduction @itsametaphorok @kinardiaz

@mintedwitcher @tevankinkley @whentheresidentsareevil @actuallyitsellie @sunnywithachanceofbi

[gunpowderraven]

critical role: by someone that hasn’t seen any of it

hi so we recently got into dimension 20 and our friends have been tugging us towards critical role for a very long time at this point but we still haven’t watched any of it nor do we know all that much about anything that actually happens in it. however we do intend to actually start watching soon so we decided it was the perfect opportunity to make one of those ‘all the things i know about this thing i haven’t watched’ posts, show it to our critrole friends, and then actually get into critrole and be able to look back and laugh about it later

also the images are all sourced via friend so this is all one hundred percent no wiki no google knowledge, just from tumblr and discord convos and stuff. and some cast compilation videos that were very funny

update: we are now watching cr3! liveblog tag for silly lb -> #cr3 lb

vox machina

from left to right:

- i have literally no idea who the two halflings are. i’ve never seen them before in my life. what. uh. paladin and bard? im literally just guessing. who plays these characters. what

- grog? grug? this is travis’ pc maybe. also hypothesizing hes a half-orc barbarian or something similar? ive seen like one clip of him

- percival frederick von something something de rolo i think there’s a iii in his name as well, his name is long and very german but he does not have a german accent. or a french one. at separate times i have thought this character was german and french and then i heard him talk and was like. What. anyway i know he’s taliesin’s pc and he invented guns and is also possessed sometimes by big bird demon, and he has a nifty plague doctor mask. also tragic backstory. his entire family is dead i think. no mercy percy! he has a thing with vex? also his hair did a wilbur. the gay people on tumblr love this twink. i also think i love this twink

- vax’ildan! i think i may have actually spelled that right! half-elf? vex is his twin? and he’s... liam’s pc i think. yeah that’s it. he gives me angsty boy energy tho. not as much as percy but this boy has seen some shit. also he might be a rogue or a ranger who even knows. he looks like gay jon snow

- vex’ahlia which i definitely didn’t spell right. i think the next one is marisha’s pc so this one is... uh... laura? i think she’s the ranger actually. i think she has a bear. not like a gay bear like an actual animal bear. though it could be gay too i dunno. she has a think with percy. or everyone wants her to have a thing with percy. i genuinely can’t tell. anyway get that traumatized twink girl

- keyleth... marisha’s pc. some kind of spellcaster? maybe sorcerer? wild magic? she Also has a thing with percy maybe. or vex. or both. who even knows. everyone wants that twink. one time she threw herself off a cliff and turned into a goldfish and almost died and it was hilarious

anything else i know about this:

- there are evil bitches called the briarwoods and they might be vampires

- this is the one that got a tv show and might have also been the first critrole campaign idek

- d. ragons? chromia something. dragons. i hope i haven’t been lied to about the dragons. i hope there are actually dragons in this. there’s like a chromium something with dragon symbols tho

mighty nein

from left to right:

- mollymauk! ...tealeaf? another taliesin pc. the trans people like this one. i don’t know what their pronouns are. but theyre slaying every time i see them at any time. no idea what class but maybe a spellcaster?

- ...beau? i know her exclusively through lesbian ship art so i know her name is beau something bc that’s the ship names but i don’t know if that’s short for something. monk? no clue. also no clue who plays her either. maybe marisha?

- i have seen this character but i do not know their name. or anything else about them

- oh this is the sad wizard boy caleb widogast. he’s gay for essek thelyss (or something. i didnt spell that right) who is a npc i think. yeah. sad wizard. every time i see him he’s just being a wizard and sad. the gays love him too but he’s more of a distraught otter than a sad twink. maybe he and percy should start a club tho. also i think he’s played by liam

- i KNOW this character’s name i think it starts with s but i can’t remember for the life of me. scriv? scrat? no thats the rat from ice age. possibly a menace? i think im getting them mixed up with someone else. they look cool as hell though

- jester!! laura pc i think perhaps. i want to get drunk with her and tell her about all of my problems. yeah. i dont know anything about her actually. beaujester exists tho i know that

- YASHA. CRUSH ME HOLY FUCK. sorry im normal ? her voice makes me a little crazy insane. ive seen a few clips of her. mostly gay shit with beau. uh she’s played by ashley and she could kick my ass very easily

oh my god there’s another photo

- i think there’s only one character different here and it’s caduceus clay fun fact i hated this mfer for really dumb shitty personal reasons for a while before deciding it was very stupid to blame a fictional character for interpersonal drama and now im fine with him. wait does mollymauk die or something. wait a second. no, wait, fuck—

- ALSO WHO’S THAT FUCKER IN THE BACKGROUND I JUST NOTICED THAT

anything else i know about this:

- yeah i got nothing. no idea about the lore or the plot or anything bc i pretty much exclusively see gay ship art of these pcs. love wins i support it

bells hells

from left to right, one more time:

- look my brain is just saying gertrude from dungeons & drag queens but obviously that’s incorrect. so i don’t know who this is

- or this! but she looks very pretty and i love the little... monkey... bird? pls tell me these two characters have some kind of wild opposites dynamic they look like they do

- LITTLE ROBOT GUY . fcg? fgc? i think it was the first one. uh. liam pc? ?????? i think he gets bitches

- orym...? i know one of these characters is named orym. and i think it’s this one. i also see gay fanart of him

- i don’t know who the guy underneath him is

- or the lady with the purple hair god i really don’t know shit about this campaign sorry

- ashton greymoore, taliesin pc, my friend luna loves this guy, he’s. rocks? he’s rocks. groovy.

- someone in this campaign is named like dorian or something and im guessing its this one bc idk who they are either

anything else i know about this:

- flying.......... ship?

- this is the ongoing one i think

thank you for coming to my ted talk, i can’t wait to look back at this in a few months and laugh my ass off. hope u enjoyed this mess

[adashoflavendermelancholy]

Nicknames

Thatch has a little habit. One that no one really minded. Unless they were new to the ship. No matter who you are, there was no getting out of being part of it. Thatch would give you a nickname, and the more you struggled with it, the more nicknames you got. When he first joined the crew, he called Whitebeard; Pops, Daddio, Dadmister, Cap, The tain, The old man, The adopter. All that was just for their captain and father. If anyone thought they were getting out of a nickname of equal annoyance, they were wrong.

On the surface, Marco hated these nicknames. Always getting the ones that were bird themed, or worse, doctor themed. Mother hen was Thatch’s favorite to use for him. But that didn’t make it any easier to not glare a little at him. If Marco was being honest with himself, he loved the nicknames. It made them feel more like a real family. As silly as it sound’s, because they are a family. Just the small thing about having a nickname was something Marco never thought would happen.

Haruta was always called something to do with their height and pension for the arts. Jozu had something frilly and sweet to offset her large look. It was just something they got after being around Thatch long enough. Some of the names stuck more than others. Getting more of the crew to use them rather than their real names. It was all just fun.

By the time the first Halloween with Thatch on the ship, almost everyone had a nickname. It was something he enjoyed doing. Seeing his friends and family light up with happiness or annoyance at one of his nicknames. If they were really bad, he would crack up with laughter from the look on their face.

There were only a few people left on the ship without one. Those that kept away from Thatch so they wouldn’t get a nickname. But he was slowly working his way through to them. Well, there was also one patiently waiting for their nickname. One that hasn’t shied away from Thatch, more often than not picking small fights with him. Just so they could talk for a little while.

Izou swears they weren’t pouting while watching the party. Thatch is busy running around with plates of food and drinks. Not that he minded doing so for his family. “If you want one that bad, you should just talk to him.” Marco said, leaning next to Izou.

“No one else had to ask,” Izou muttered back. They had been talking to Thatch every day for two months now. Yet, they still had not gotten a nickname. Not one single nickname. Was their name hard to make one? Jozu’s name was just as short, so it couldn’t be that.

Marco shrugged, going back to watching the two again. Knowing what was going on. Thatch hadn’t been all that subtle about all this. Izou only missing it because they were too busy with their own feelings. Usually, Izou was on top of things like people having crushes on them. Almost all the crew did for a moment. Izou’s beautiful, confident, and oh so icy. Not that they gave anyone the wrong idea. “I still think you should ask him.”

Izou glared at the other. It wasn’t fair. “Is that your professional opinion, or you being a Mother hen?” Izou asked.

“Is he worrying again?” Thatch asked, putting a couple of plates down in front of them. Izou looked over and saw the smile on his face. It’s so rude that he looked that happy while they were struggling. “How many times have we told you to relax? At this rate, you’ll be the first to die.”

“Yeah, worrying.” Marco rolled his eyes. This was getting out of hand now. Izou was going to start throwing things soon if it wasn’t solved. “Thatch, how many more until you have nicknames for everyone?”

Thatch looked over the crowd, counting heads and nicknames. He gave a small laugh at the really good ones before moving to the next. “About six or so… Why?” He turned back to Marco, “Already want a new one?”

Marco shook his head. No way was he going back to letting Thatch workshop his nickname again. It took weeks before it settled down. Finding the one that Thatch liked more than the others. But by then, everyone else had picked their favorite. Not heading the warning of being thrown into the sea for some of them. Thatch being one of those people who weren’t afraid of being thrown over for a nickname. “What’s Izous?” Marco asked.

A hiss of pain left Marco as Izou slammed their elbow into his side. It shouldn’t have hurt, but Izou used Haki to make a point. Making Marco glare at them. Thatch watched this with a slight smile on his face. “Izou’s nickname? It’s uh-“

“THATCH! Hurry back!” One of the fourth division called. Saving Thatch from making up a nickname on the spot. He was definitely not telling Izou of the nickname he’s been calling them to Marco, and only Marco. Not wanting the name to get out to the others.

“Look’s like I got to get back to work.” Thatch said, smiling at the two. Marco’s eyes were calling him a coward, and Thatch knew he was right. Izou looked more curious than anything else, which did not bode well for Thatch.

Later that night, once people were drunk enough and full of different kinds of food. From meat that was colored to look green and rotten, to candied apples. Everything decorated to look as haunting as Thatch and the others in the kitchen could make. Izou made their way to see Thatch. Leaving the deck to see where the latter had gone. In the kitchen getting Thatch washed dishes as he hummed to himself. A form of comforting himself.

Izou slipped into the room, leaning against the counter, watching him. Thatch finished up and turned around, leaping in the air with a short yell. “Izou!” Thatch said, clutching at his heart. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“What was Marco talking about earlier?” Izou asked, getting to the point. They spent all night thinking about how to bring it up. In the end, this seemed like the best option.

Thatch tensed a bit. “What do you mean?”

“He asked what my nickname was. Sounded like you already had one picked out.” Izou tried not to sound too worked up about this. It wouldn’t do to get heated just yet.

“I, uh, well,” Thatch said, looking away from Izou. “I have an idea but I don’t know-“

“What is it?”

Thatch looked into their eyes. The deep brown meeting their dark eyes. He didn’t say anything for a moment. “I can’t choose.” Thatch muttered, a small bit of red on his cheeks. Taking a step forward to box Izou in. Izou didn’t move, just lifted their chin a bit to keep eye contact. “Beautiful. Ice queen or king, depending. Doll...” Thatch said, getting a little close. “Darling, if I could get away with it.”

“You might.”

[3grey-morals5]

hcs-scp/035x049😎😎😎(hc3)

I decided to set aside my other headcanon list last minute (it being alagadda) just due to it not feeling right or interesting. In it's place I will be writing up this. Sorry to anyone who followed me for art or sarkicism, I promise that will be back shortly I'm just in a writing funk.

DO NOTE. this is a ship/pairing hc post! If you do not like it, do kindly leave. Something else to know is that this will include both healthy and more unhealthy relationship segments. If that is something that upsets you, don't feel bad to stop reading. This is only because I feel that in the modern scp setting they do not have the most healthy relationship and wish to comment on it, not that I condone any toxic behavior.

And aswell,

THESE ARE ALL JUST MY IDEAS FOR IT. NO IT MAY NOT BE TRUE TO THE CANON.

Anyways, starting off with past. This is more detailed info on the start of their relationship in Alagadda, as I have already covered some in my last hc post.

good/healthy

-Alagadda

Starting off in the past with Alagadda, something i went over some in my last post. This was before 049 was fucking over obsessed with his cure and before 035 had multiple hosts and was just one (very sad, but decent) consciousness. Due to these circumstances, they were far more stable overall both in their own lives and in their relationship.

Serious relationships were fairly rare in the city, mainly because most citizens were more into silly flings at pound town establishments than an actual commitment. Ofc, where doc came from that wasnt very well known and most relationships were just arranged marriages. Bl was like the middle ground of deciding who you want to be with for the rest of your life, not just one night.

Who'd he choose to try and court?? DING DING DING. Some gothic bird doctor guy!! Ah the thrill of breaking the rules set by bitchass ambassador~ why can't you even date foreigners anyway? These "lord guidelines" can suck it.

In media first loves are usually depicted as messy and uncaring, but I like to think of these two as the opposite. Well minus messy, it probobly was just because they didn't really know what they were doing. Like number 1 how do you even ask someone out. He has a bird mask...maybe he'll like this little cool rock I found! Yes that should get the point across.

Jolic try not to depict the BL (black lord not boy love) as a silly lovesick teen HARD EDITION like look at him. who read all the libraries' tragedies and comedies of romance? That gotta be bl. Rest in peace Anguish...you would have adored ao3 cringe...(this is a joke. Please trust I take serious characters seriously and haven't drawn him over that one purple haired emo guy picture once)

share hobbies such as ...idfk..dissection. except bl dissects literature and doc will dissect anything that's died or maybe is still alive. What are those scars on Anguish's tentacles you may ask? Oh yeah doc just needed to do a few snips to take notes of how the sludge anatomy is (a blatant lie. He was bored and his partner let's him do practically anything. Daww look he trust..so cute)

They may not fully understand eachothers hobbies, but they will still pay attention to info dumping (haha just like me abt scp I yap ALL DAY) from the other and try and to ask relevant questions. No doc may not care too much for rip van winkles 69 chapter long poetry book, but he will forever listen to bl belt his heart out about how it touched him so deeply just to see them excited and happy. And bl may be slightly disgusted by the icky wet specimens in docs bag but as soon as the birdie needs help with them or begins his rants about new graphic medical practices he read abt u bet bl is lending 4 hands or is LOCKED IN listening.

Even when their lives were on the line when the secret got out, Anguish didn't break things off to save himself and doc didn't flee to avoid certain death. They stuck together and that got them out alive and well..back to the dimensional back alley that is earth.smh.

-Earth time before the start of deterioration 😔

By now doc was far more anxious with his hallucinations back, but 035 was still with him every step of the way. Being worn by his partner, they had a symbiotic relationship and still 035 was just one pure consciousness snug with 049's. It sure took some adjusting to not having a body, and foe doc having your bf just IN YOUR MF MIND ALL THE TIME but it was a relatively calm experience.

Sorta not ship related but lemme tell yall...fat theory coming up. Yknow how. 049 make the bodies move but they have no mental really..who does cognitive stuff? 035. IM TELLING YOU THEY WORKED TOGETHER TO FULLY REVIVE PEOPLE WITH THEIR BRAIN AND ALL LIKE ARE U GETTING THIS. that's why 049 can't do it on his own bc 035 ISNT THEREEE. Anyways 🥰

Oh BTW they're actually married haha. They scared some fuckass priest into doing the ceremony in the middle of forest lavender clearing. Was the first time 035 had a host, a nice looking kindhearted fellow he found in a nearby town.(we don't talk about how terrified the bl consciousness was the first time he got a new consciousness. But they hit it off and are still besties in the hive mind. His name is Winfred.)

Not my hc, BUT I once saw someone say that they were married with flower crowns instead of rings and and OH MY GOD that has stuck with me ever since like Jesus christ you're SO RIGHT. Dyo's was oleander and Doc's was lavender ofc.

At this time 049 could still remove his mask, and he had it off for the kiss kiss and learned from the village how to braid his hair. Doc's robes were back to being plain and normal after coming back from Alagadda, but he tried his very best to fix them up nice with bits of lace and flowers. 035 just found the best clothes he could around the houses he.. Ahem..totally didn't sneak into..

Yes 035 was absolutely bawling during the ceremony.

035 traveled along with 049, either with the rare very hardy and longlasting host, on him, or in his bag. With very little hosts, the bl was able to keep them mainly in check and in control. Something that would become basically impossible in the upcoming centuries.

When he had hosts, Dyo would venture out and find little trinkets to give his bird husband. There were always very thoughtful and doc ADORED them. He still keeps them in his bag (well at least the ones he hasn't found in the depths of the bag yet, he didn't remember them in modern times and would just toss them :( )

Examples include: pressed flowers, coins, poems on scrap papers, colorful feathers, jewelry, LAVENDERRRR, a fucking truckload of handkerchiefs of various designs, quilt squares he'd snatched, old broken ceramic or porcelain peices, one singular tiny statue of a horse, a pipe or two, pretty rocks, sketches he'd done, ect.

-Start of deterioration (starts delving into a more unhealthy relationship. Stop now if you don't wish to read!)

049's mask was now firm on his face, and the lack of mental link connection only further pulled him away from his partner, aswell as the worsening of hallucinations, put strain on their marriage. He was withdrawn, no longer had time for "silly things" such as being a present partner. The addiction to his work only further feuled this tear in the relationship.

035 still did his best, struggling through the now horde of hosts to try and be the best husband possible despite his mistreatment. He'd push for breaks, clean him up after surgery, hold him close in night terrors, fix teas and dinners to try and get 049 to eat and drink.

But it was never enough.

At some point, you just can't hold on. Trying to manage 10 consciousness was enough but with the constant stress of his situation(causing more humor leakage->quicker host expiration) he needed more and more hosts to keep a body, thus, gaining more conciousnesses. They began to overpower him, causing more erratic behavior that did nothing to help the already tense situation.

This hurt them deeply, knowing he could do nothing to help them. Or himself. There was no right option. Try to save his partner? Try to save himself? Keep some control? It festered inside of him, more and more black bile bleeding from him.

docs issues didn't let up, soon viewing one he once held dearest just another block in the way of his quest of life. He had to get rid of this...pest.

Why keep him around...how was he ever of use to me. They must go. I have better things to do.

After centuries of being together, he snapped. The mask viewed their little trip as a step in the right direction...he should have known something was up. Led into a crypt, his glee was cut short at the clanks of the gate. The click of a lock. By the time he made it back to the crypt door he was already walking away, eyes glazed over ignoring the pleas from his husband.

Wait.. what are you doing..doc? Doc where are going? What's going on? DOC?! ARE YOU LISTENING? GET BACK HERE! PLEASE?! (wailing and pleading)

Dont leave me...!! please...(thud)

(Dramatic much 🙄)

-modern day. (This is toxic. 5hwy are both terrible and I hate them. For this reason I have an alternate scenario where they remember eachother and it's sweet)

In containment, they both have issues with vices. 049's being curing..ofc. while 035's is getting free (hosts as a whole) and finding his husband(bl consciousness alone.)

Do note, mentioned in earlier hc posts, the hivemind as a whole recognizes 049, but they don't know how he is important. This is due to bl explaining him, then those who heard explaining, and those who heard second explaining. So if you've ever played telephone, that's how it is. Something gets repeated so many times a bit different, so the differences at up. This as a whole creates a recognization, but unsureness how. This then morphs onto an unhealthy obsession.

Meanwhile, 049's perception is so warped due to hallucinations and his obsession with curing, that he dosent even recognize him anymore. Merely their meets are a possible useful interaction with info pertaining to the cure, and as soon as 035 isn't of use...dropped. then he is forgotten once again. The cycle restarts when they meet.

035 is the opposite, absolutely head over heels for this guy he dosent even really know. It grips at him, an itch that can ONLY be scratched by being in contact with him. An unhealthy obsession that can't be quenched no matter what. Like he NEEDS him to survive, pitching a fit every time he dosent get his way and trying to force himself upon them to get attention. Even if it hurts 049.

Want a snippet of sweetness in these trying times? Thought so. When exposed to lavender, 049 is calmer and in a sort of woozy carefree state. A daze where his only hallucinations are of happier days...curled up with a loved one in flowing lavender feilds...sun shining warm above them, clouds dappling the pale blue sky. Life is calm, life is good. But right when he turns to gaze at whomever he's laid with.

Snap.

He's back in a cell. Cold and damp. Or led by guards, feet thinking aimlessly on the metal floors. And that haze clouds his eyes yet again.

.

.

. ☀️ ☁️ ☁️ ☁️

. ☁️ 🕊 ☁️ ☁️☁️ ☁️

. '°•~-\_🌿_🌿🌿_💜🖤_🌿🌿_🌿_/-~•°'

.

.

.

.

Maybe in another life. :3

Hope yall enjoyed it! I sure did (the good ones at least) this took longer than expected, but I think it was worth it. I plan on making a short story of the future, I won't spoil too much, but I've thought it over a while and I think I'm happy with the idea. Why wait for another life when the afterlife is right there?

Thanks for reading! Love yall<3/p

[differenteagletragedy]

I'm imagining that even in a poly relationship between MC, Cove, Derek, and Baxter that Derek would still want a lot of kids. That house would be very packed.

Me too! I get why the whole thing is that Derek wants kids if MC does, but in his heart of hearts, I think he'd want to be a dad. There is no quiet space in that house lol. Derek's gonna have to build a shed out back where everyone can take turns having a moment to themselves.

-- If you can and want to get pregnant, then that might be the way to go! Just you pregnant with your three guys to dote all over you, lol, what a big ol lovefest

-- Cove is glued to your side for the whole nine months (well, he's always glued to your side, but he's going to be extra close now just in case you need anything)

-- Derek has the prenatal care under control. He's got your vitamins, all your doctors appointments memorized, he's reading the baby books, he is prepared.

-- Do you need a massage because being pregnant hurts? Baxter's right there.

-- But somebody is gonna have to keep an eye on Baxter too because he is Very Emotional at the prospect of starting a family. He is very tender.

-- Derek's building the crib, Baxter is designing it. Cove is watching, eating snacks and rooting them on.

-- Does the hospital not want to let all three of them into the delivery room? Baxter would like to have A Word.

-- Of course adoption is another option! You had a great experience with it and your moms can maybe help you figure some stuff out.

-- Either way, you are parents now!

-- Cove, Derek and Baxter are all going nuts shopping. That kid has more clothes than all four of you put together. More toys than you could possibly believe.

You: Cove, the baby already has like five teddy bears.

Cove (quietly): But this one sings a song.

-- Cove and Derek are early birds and Baxter is a night owl, and you're there too, so looks like some of you might get to rest sometime!

-- Derek's in charge of installing the car seats in all the cars. Don't test him on this, he read the manual ten times and watched a couple of hours worth of youtube tutorials.

-- Cliff is going to be over all the time, hope that's cool.

-- Cove is so excited to take the kid to the beach, but he's going to have to wait because Baxter ordered the baby sunscreen with the highest ratings online and it'll need time to get delivered.

-- Baxter is making his own baby food. You can call him silly for it, he doesn't mind.

-- Derek and Baxter at least will definitely want at least two kids.

-- Derek bought a minivan.

-- Cove cries a million times more as a parent than he did before. He just loves his kids so much and that love unlocked all sorts of new feelings. And they are very big feelings.

-- Baxter really loves being a dad, but he's worried he won't do it right because his own dad wasn't great. He'll do everything to make sure the kids feel accepted and appreciated and seen like he never did.

-- Derek is thrilled and confident and having the time of this life. Maybe a third kid would be fun!

[werewolfgenesis]

Headcannon dump PLEASE PLEASE PLAss

Ohh a headcanon dump, you say? Glady!!

I will say this took me quite a bit to figure out how I want to,, format?? This?? Whatever the word is LMAO but ultimately I've decided: fuck it we ball

Now for headcanons :3

Ghost has a knife collection! He doesn't remember where some of the knives came from, but he likes them anyway, he has a display case in his room for all his knives. Strangely, the ones he doesn't recognize have the initials J.C. carved into them. Wonder what that's about. Probably nothing. Ghost also enjoys photography and film making, similar to another individual very close to him!

Toast is extremely good at engineering and mechanics- his prosthetic arm is something he created and designed himself. He also has quite a bit of medical knowledge due to how much research he had done after losing his arm and creating his prosthetic. Other than creating his prosthetic, he's also created a multitude of ghost-hunting devices that PIE uses reguarly missions, as wacky as some may be

Spooker is an artist! In particular, he likes doodling flowers and small animals like cats, birds, squirrels, etc, writing poems, and he LOVES scrapbooking. He also knows how to sew!! Though, only a little. He also loves flowerpressing, he has multiple journals full of so many different little art projects and so many photos he and Ghost have taken and flowers and plants he's collected and so much more

Colon loves the ocean and space, but ESPECIALLY the ocean. Ask him about aquatic life and he'll tell you all about it, especially stuff that's in the deepest parts of the ocean, like the bigfin squid. He could spend hours or even days talking about the ocean and the wide expanse of space. He used to want to be an astronaut or marine biologist as a kid, though life led him somehow to being an athlete and then a ghost hunter. He's happy as a ghost hunter though, it's a very exciting and interesting job

Jimmy is a lot more than just some unhinged murderer, he used to be a human before he turned into the spirit he is now- however, he no longer has any memory of his life before "merging" with Ghost and his soul becoming attached to his, his real last name isn't even Casket- he just stole that from Ghost's family since he forgot his own last name. He's almost unrecognizable from who he used to be

Gavin, like Toast, is also extremely smart, just in a different way. His expertise lies more in chemistry rather than engineering. He used to not really care about sciences, or anything really, until the "Back From The Dead" pandemic, if you will, started to really, really become an issue, leading the state of the world in shambles with the constant revivals of all living things, and fueled by his jealousy towards Toast and desire to replace him, he started researching how to create a "perma-death" serum to "cure" this form of immortality plague and to get rid of Toast

Spencer is a huge fan of Vocaloid. Posters and merch, his computer is themed around Hatsune Miku and Gumi Megpoid (they're his favorites) one of his happiest memories is when he got to go to Miku Expo for the first time. I also think he was scene when he was in middleschool/highschool, he still owns a lot of clothing items and jewelry from back then, and still wears a lot of them still, even if now he dresses more "proper" with collared shirts and sweater vests

Sally was 100% an LPStuber wannabe as a kid, she owned a huge collection of LPS toys and would make silly LPS videos on Gertrude's phone and upload them to YouTube, sometimes her siblings would help her make them too. Another headcanon is that she loves clowns and the whole aesthetic of them, scary or cutesy, she loves it and definitely has clown themed LPS customs

While on the surface, Billy seems a bit airheaded and out of touch when it comes to social situations, he's actually very intelligent and knows a lot more than he lets on. He's a very skilled doctor and when it comes to his Back From The Dead ability, while he can't control it, he knows a lot more about it and how it works. It's an inherent knowledge he was born with, and he knows to keep a secret

Sue is a complete disaster when it comes to her love life. She sees a cute girl and she fumbles HARD. Sue is rather clumsy and mispeaks a lot, often accidentally tripping and accidentally bumping into other people, she really does those kinds of things a lot anyway. She doesn't beat herself up for it though, she's just a bit clumsy is all! Also she loves Fluttershy from MLP that's her girl right there

Stardust Sprinkleshine, when his human disguise, plays the role of a prophet and a disciple under the Love Cult, preaching to his followers the beliefs and virtues they follow, and condemning the non-believers, occasionally becoming "possessed" by Stardust to speak to his followers directly

Barnacle is the elder sister of Spooker, however her name and face has long since been forgotten due to the nature of Hell's Island after her "death." Her family no longer remember her, neither do her old friends, and she's unable to escape that haunted, old ghost town. She used to wear a gasmask to protect herself until she realized that it didn't matter, she was already dead