#hi hello yes it's been a hot minute since i was in fandom

[gairfowl]

I have been in The Terror fandom for like five minutes* but in my lurking I have come to identify a number of tropes that I am very fond of:

all and sundry (fic writers, historians, Sir James Clark Ross) taking any opportunity they can to use Crozier's full name, because "Francis Rawdon Moira Crozier" just sounds cool

it's a 50/50 chance in any given fic whether Crozier's dick works, but everyone agrees he's got a fat hog

mandatory sparkly anime eyes on all Jopson fanart

the Terror lieutenants being collectively about as much use as a handful of wet napkins, but desperate for other people's approval

Hickey showing up halfway through a modern AU longfic for the sole purpose of fucking things up

a man can be your wife if that's what he vibes with

*watched it for the first time in October and then have already rewatched it twice, bought several related books and bashed out maybe 30-40k of fanfiction (in draft, I'm waiting on that AO3 account), because that's the effect this show has on people

[emin-folly]

(@ftl-faster-than-life HI THIS TOOK A HOT MINUTE WEH Also thanks Tumblr for eating my asks again smh) oH BOY, WHERE DO I START Oh Barry, Barry, Barry, my sweet babygirl, how you've been so incredibly villainized by this fandom I'm going to take this opportunity to address and debunk as many misconceptions about Barry's character that I can remember, in the case if someone who doesn't really know Barry all that well is reading this or to hopefully change some people's minds~

* "Barry is boring": Well, yes but actually no. That's the beauty of Barry--he is designed to be your average, unassuming everyday kind of guy. Problem is, a lot of people think that's all there is to him, but that's really only just the surface.

He has flaws. He's prone to making decisions without consulting his family if he thinks it's for the greater good. You need to explicitly tell this man if you wanna be his lover because he absolutely can NOT read romantic cues to save his own life, he's a guilt sponge, he's weird, he LOVES science and comics and is a huge nerd!! He gets jealous!

Guys-Guys?? He's aN ELDRITCH HORROR??? HELLO????? He is CONSTANTLY living in sheer and utter denial and is desperately grasping his extremely thin veneer of being human, and yet, because of this, he actually puts his family in more jeopardy. Do you even realize how fascinating that is

Barry is a character who also deeply craves companionship/people. He struggles with depression and suicidal tendencies ever since being resurrected. He tries so hard to be what everyone else wants him to be and meet their expectations while failing to take care of himself in the process. He's so much more complex than just "Wally's nice father figure who died in Crisis". People also tend to equate "boring" with "being good/kind" which, you know...I very much disagree with but that's just my opinion * "Barry is racist!" LOL This one is just so wildly incorrect. The origin of this misconception comes from an out-of-context panel Justice League of America #173) of Barry being angry about Black Lightning joining the JL. If you read the whole page the panel comes from, you'd see that in actuality Barry is NOT angry about a black man joining the League but rather, he's angry that that seems to be the only reason Oliver wants him and Barry is (rightfully) calling Oliver out on that. There has been no other time where Barry has a problem with people of color

* "Barry is a Republican" I don't even know where this fanon came from. I think this may have originated from Wally's run where Wally was a conservative and he just assumed?? Barry was the same??? Which is SO laughably wrong (Wally bby, stop projecting on your uncle challenge) For the major part of Barry's original run (and honestly, the majority of the Flash runs after that), he remained largely apolitical . People see a white guy from the 60s and automatically assume he's right leaning /shrug * "Barry's a cop!" Yeahhh, not quite actually. He's a CSI, a forensic scientist, not a blue collar badge sporting cop. He's the behind-the-scenes guy, the one who studies the crime scene and tries to piece together the evidence and bring the culprit to justice. There IS a difference. But people don't really care about the technicalities, tho, they just want to hate Barry and him being "basically" a cop is a fast and easy excuse to do so. And DC certainly isn't helping matters with them constantly pushing the cop agenda for him (thanks a lot DC) * "Barry is sexually-repressed": This is a headcanon I seen a fair amount of and--okay, I get it. Barry is shy and reserved and blushes up a mad storm when someone compliments him. I can see how that might lead people to interpret that as him being sexually repressed/being a prude. But like....Buddy. Homie. Amigo.

This man had more canon sex than Hal Jordan. He and Iris were getting it on FREQUENTLY in the Silver Age and that's not me exaggerating. Just look at Flash #197 where it was Barry's birthday and he and Iris made out and stayed in bed practically the whole day together. Maybe you could say they just did that in the morning and they did other things later buuuut I don't believe that for a minute lol. Or! In Flash #195 where Barry was late to a ceremony of a submarine departure because (you guessed it!) he was too busy exploring his wife's mouth. Just because Barry doesn't make sexually-charged remarks or cop a feel from Iris constantly doesn't mean he's opposed to sex. I see it more as him just being way more private and reserved about it, but he IS very much down to fuck as she is (or Hal! Whichever your ship may be~)

While we're kinda on the subject, I'm really not a fan of the whole Barry being "shojo-fied/uwu-fied" thing, if I'm being honest?? Like, yes, if you give him any kind of compliment, he will blush furiously and stutter. But that's different from him being totally ignorant on what sex is/being a weak, delicate little flower who needs a "Big, Strong man" like Hal to save him (also, like...can we stop treating Barry as the "girl" of the ship just because he's skinnier and smaller than Hal pls and thank you). He is an mid-20-30 year old adult man. And a forensic scientist who probably seen a lot of sex-related crimes in his line of work. I'm pretty sure he knows what sex is, guys (in fact, he would be the guy who actually hosts Sex Ed classes bc the misinformation out there is staggering lol)

"Barry is weak/one of the weaker superheroes": Ok, I've never seen anyone say this persay, but it is very evident in how people portray him a lot of the time. They see his smaller frame and the fact that he runs fast to mean he's a glass cannon (Honestly they do this to a lot of the other speedsters as well) which hi! Wrong again! Speedsters are actually INSANELY durable little dudes. He could tank a punch from Darkseid. He can drag MASSIVE SHIPS behind him!! Wally once punched Eobard with the equivalent force of a dwarf star. Yeah. Now I get whump, I personally love it, I do, but I also enjoy seeing Barry being the absolute powerhouse he is. He can vibrate through solid matter, he can manipulate frequencies, and he's incredibly smart with how to use his powers, always thinking up on the spot improv strategies and techniques! Please stop nerfing him, guys, speedsters get too much of that from the writers OTL * "He's conservative because of his buzzcut!" Ok this one actually had like, a whole article?? On it?? And it truly is so wild lmao. When the only thing people can find to hate a character on is his haircut, you know they have no basis for their argument lol * "Barry is abusive!" Nope. Not even close. People love to pull this as a "gotcha" to Barry fans, regarding the panels of "Barry" beating up Wally and verbally abusing him (The Return of Barry Allen). Except....that wasn't Barry, that was Eobard disguised as him. You know...if you read the full run, you would know that lol You literally couldn't find a more least abusive person than Barry lol. Which actually leads me into the next one... * "Barry was an example of toxic masculinity!" AH yes, of course, with how he's so openly kind and compassionate, how he loves kids and animals, how he openly cries and shows emotion, how he's super respectful of people regardless, how he chugs Respect Women juice all day everyday, how he's contributing to fundraisers to help impoverished people and further medical progress, how he's so concerned about the state of the environment and is firmly against consumption of fossil fuels, how he constantly tells his son nephew he's so proud of him and that he's his hero, how he runs home after work bc he's genuinely so excited to see his wife, how he loves her SO much and smothers her with kisses every chance he gets UGH. How does Iris stand him /s And since we're talking about Barry and how the fandom treats him, I can't not talk about the elephant in the room--Flashpoint To start off, lemme preface this real quick:

FLASHPOINT WAS NOT BARRY'S FAULT

He DID NOT intend to trade the lives of his family for his mom He DID NOT run back in time because he was jealous of Wally (uhh lmao what???? Yeah, I can't even begin to explain how wack that is) He DID NOT run back in time because he was "selfish" and "wanted his mommy back" (unfriendly reminder that Nora is a separate character and shouldn't be treated as just an appendage of a male character <333) Some actual context for non-comic readers: Eobard killing his mom is actually an aberration of the true timeline. It was PERFECTLY REASONABLE to assume that it would restore itself to its original version!! Barry had also traveled in time before in the comics without any repercussions or ill effects, so there was NO CONCEIVABLE REASON FOR HIM TO THINK ANYTHING OF THE SCALE OF FLASHPOINT WOULD EVEN HAPPEN If people had read the issues preceding Flashpoint, they'd see Barry did all of that for Nora!! Because he despised the fact that she had to pay with her life because of a villain of his!! That it wasn't right for her to die for his sake!!

"But Eobard said Flashpoint was Barry's fault-!" EOBARD is A BITCH ASS LIAR who purposely twists the truth to hurt Barry as much as he can!! Of COURSE he would say that!! What ACTUALLY happened is that Eobard is the one who somehow made Nora's death such a critical and important fixture in time to the point of just tempering with that can cause a catastrophic domino effect. Flashpoint is EOBARD'S FAULT and HIS ALONE (and Idk, Doctor Manhattan's too ig if you wanna include him)

Barry loves his family and cares so, so, SO EXTREMELY MUCH. He could literally not be any prouder of Wally if he actually tried!! Everything he does is for his family, even sacrificing his own mental health and happiness for them and it makes me SO sad to see everyone cling to this butchered version of him in their minds (though it's not entirely their fault, DC is also definitely to blame)

[loquarocoeur]

Hey lovely! I’m back w another anon, at this point I’ll put an emoji so you know it’s the same person saying hi bc I’m not sending this on my blog name but ashshsjsh.

The asks and your responses on the spanking shit have me wanting to send this ask that I’ve been thinking about, but like. After the end of ‘pushing buttons’ I rlly enjoyed the bit where charles was almost insecure, and max responded the way he did so beautifully about how he loves charles the most bc he’s charles and what about it him he finds so loving and hot and how he was mentioning Charles’s pleasure too and that just. Really made me want to have a fic perhaps on the doms pleasure a bit. Not entirely but if you’d want to I’d love for you to get into charles head and thoughts a bit. It’s hard to explain what I mean because I’m being vague bc I’m embarrassed enough typing this as is lmfao but I hope you kinda get what I mean here? How you were talking about charles headspace in the other ask and everything I just got very Inchrested

I just love this verse and the way you write and maybe I die everytime I see another blog post of yours about some smutty shit! Maybe!

- 🦢 (I’ll make myself the swan emoji anon bc why the fuck not. Hi it’s me I sent the asks like max speaking Italian for maybe one line perfectly and made the suggestion about the ‘monza fic having the hotel tifosi chanting. Idk I just wanted to lyk it was me ahahshsjjs)

Okay hi, hello, I'm here with my thoughts now and absolutely YES, prepare for an essay:

Like idk, I've been meaning and trying to get into Charles' head a bit more since forever, but it is just quite hard nailing him down, he's just a very complex character nowadays with that duality between his 'dom persona' I guess and then absolute golden retriever, head over heels, bend over backwards, and jump when Max says jump sweetheart he is outside of that headspace

It's just there's just so many things from Charles' perspective to think of, you know, specifically talking about sex scenes now:

Like, okay, first of all, he's just a man, Max barely needs to take off his shirt. Like he's absolutely insatiable, he goes insane for a glimpse of Max's stomach, the only time he won't even try to start anything in the shower is if he got an orgasm five minutes ago, so obviously there's the aspect that he just thinks Max is fucking hot, just looking at Max does it for him, and also men are men, it feels good getting their dicks wet I guess

But then there's also obviously the thing that we don't talk about enough in fandom and that's that doms like being dominant just as much as subs like being submissive

And you know it's hard to nail it down and elucidate it, because we don't have enough examples for it, because (and this is also totally fine of course) fandom is just usually very focused on the perspective of more submissive people for probably many reasons which we won't get into rn, but the point is like you have to make this shit up as you go, there's not a script and an easy how-to like there is for writing submissive perspectives because we've all read thousands of those of course

Because like obviously Max technically has as much if not more control over the situation as Charles does with safewords and all, but Charles obviously LIKES being or feeling in control

There's kind of this underlying societal belief that we often get where it's just perceived as inherently bad when someone wants or likes to be in control or in a position of power, which is why I feel we hear the dom perspective waaay less than the sub one, because ironically, the doms are too shy to speak up I guess lol

But you know Charles obviously likes that he can tell Max what to do and he does it, he likes how Max, just as a person, is quite dominant in the way he behaves, he's not a follower, when someone says sit down Max asks why, and he's no different with Charles when they're just them and there's no dom/subness going on, but he likes how when they're in that space and Charles says sit down Max sits the fuck down

And then I think the thing I always emphasized most is how Charles just gets off on seeing Max feel good, like he gets off on making Max feel so good he loses all function, and that comes back to Charles having just as much of a praise kink as Max, but he doesn't need Max to tell him he's doing good, he needs to see it

And then it's just how do I fit all this in and consolidate it with the way that of course, Charles is far from quiet or reserved during sex, he won't shut up actually, but there's these times when, from Max's perspective, you have no idea what's going on in his head, because he has this talent for just turning his face blank

And don't think I as the author somehow know any more than you do when it comes to Max's perspective like guys idk either, I was just there

But yes, I do hope to elaborate on it a bit more in the future🥰❤️❤️❤️

[praetorqueenreyna]

Welcome to the PQR gift giving extravaganza!!! I wrote some fics for some of my fandom friends as part of a gift exchange; expect a fic (almost) every day for the next week! This first one is for @goforth-ladymidnight, my co-runner for Tamlin Week and one of my favorite people ever!! She has spoiled me with a Tamlin/Lucien fic, which you should definitely check out! Briar/Tamlin is one of her favorite ships, so hopefully I did it justice!

Read here on AO3, or continue reading below.

Briar’s father practically kicked her out of the shop. “Are you sure you don’t need help?” she asked, even as she was halfway out the door.

“Yes yes, I’m not that old,” he snapped with false irritability. “You go enjoy yourself, and I mean it.” He closed the door to his shop behind her, and she could hear the dramatic thunk of the lock falling into place. She shook her head and grinned to herself. Normally she helped her father clean up and close his shop, ever since his back had started seizing up. But he knew how much she loved the local harvest festival, and was forcing her to go.

On the way to the village square, she combed her fingers through her thick hair. She frowned at the blood caked under her fingernails and stopped at the side of the river to thoroughly scrub her hands before continuing. Music and the chatter of joyful voices reached her long before the festival was in sight. The square was beautifully decorated with dried vegetation, stalks of wheat, and gourds. Vendors lined the edges of the square, offering food and drink and trinkets. The harvest festival was Briar’s favorite time of the year. Especially now that her father was relying on her more and more, and she had less time to socialize.

As she approached one of the stands, the large man ladling out cups of steaming hot apple cider caught sight of her. His face split into a massive grin. “Little rose! Long time no see!”

“Hello Ric,” Briar greeted. She had spent much of her childhood running around the orchard that Ricaud owned with his wife. “How’s Benji?”

Ric rumbled with laughter. “Bigger and feistier than ever. Can barely keep him out of the damn trees.” However much he complained, Ric clearly adored his son. He passed her an earthenware mug full of the fragrant cider, waving her away as she reached for her money pouch. “Don’t even think about it. Just glad to see you out and about.”

It was true, Briar had not been out much since her mother had passed several years before. She tired of the pitying glances from the others, the way they treated her like a fragile piece of glass. Not to mention her father had been overwhelmed by grief and work, and needed her in his shop to keep a roof over their heads. This was one of the reasons she liked Ric so much. He didn’t talk down to her or murmur about what a poor young thing she was. He treated her as he always had.

Briar wandered through the festival, taking in the merry atmosphere with the mug cradled between her hands. She spent a few minutes at a glassblowing booth, where an apprentice was creating a sculpture for an audience. Entranced, she marveled at how the apprentice manipulated the molten glass as if it were clay, pulling and stretching and turning it until a glorious swan was cooling in front of him. The apprentice caught her eye and smiled as though greeting an old friend. A moment later, Briar realized that she did recognize him, though she couldn’t recall his name. They were the same age and had grown up in the village together, part of a group of children that ran and played with little adult supervision. She hadn’t seen him in ages. The reminder of her isolation made her wistful, and she left the booth before he could try to talk to her.

She made her way towards the center of the square. A ragtag group of musicians was playing together, a rollicking cacophony of instruments and foot stomping. A small group had started dancing in front of the musicians. Briar settled herself at the edge of the crowd, content to simply observe. Most of the musicians were somewhat familiar to her, but she had never seen the fiddle player before. He was tall and dressed plainly, though even from a distance Briar could tell that his clothing was high quality and well made. His long blond hair, woven through with flowers, flowed loosely around his shoulders. Although he played along with the other musicians, his talent far exceeded theirs. He played the fiddle like it was an extension of himself, the bow dancing across the strings in an exquisite tune.

Her attention was dragged away from the fiddle player by a tap on the shoulder. The glassblower's apprentice, having extricated himself from his booth, held out a hand in a silent request. There was nothing lascivious in his gaze, just friendly warmth and quiet confidence. Briar accepted his hand and allowed him to twirl her into the growing crowd of dancers. It soon became clear that neither of them had any knack for dancing, which sent them both giggling. They struggled through the song, jumping and kicking in a ridiculous manner. The song ended and they let go of each other’s hands to applaud. Briar was red and breathless, feeling lighter than she had in ages. She looked up at the makeshift stage to find that the fiddle player was staring at her. When he caught her looking, he shyly looked away. Bemused, Briar turned down the offer of another dance and walked away to enjoy the rest of the festival.

********************

Later, Briar was sitting on a bench at the edge of the festivities. It had been a joy to talk to so many people she hadn’t seen outside of the shop in a long time, but her feet hurt and her throat was sore. She had needed a break. It was well and truly dark now, and torches and bonfires were scattered across the square. Soon she would need to creep in closer to the fire to warm up, but for now she was content to wait in the darkness.

“Mind if I join you?” The fiddle player was standing next to her, having approached so silently he might as well have materialized out of thin air. Startled, Briar nodded her head in assent. The musician slid onto the bench next to her with preternatural grace, settling his long limbs in a pose worthy of portraiture. “I’m Tamlin.”

“Briar,” she introduced herself. “Do you live in town?”

“No, just visiting.” Tamlin didn’t elaborate on where he was from, and Briar didn’t push.

“I liked your music,” she offered instead. “You’re very talented.”

Tamlin smiled, a warm, shy smile as if he weren’t used to compliments. “Thank you. I haven’t been able to play in a while. I was worried I’d be rusty.”

“Not at all. Why haven’t you been able to play?”

He paused, as if considering how much to tell her. “The work I do is exhausting. And boring. It’s not fun to talk about.” That only raised more questions, but Briar was too polite to push him. “I’m curious about you, though.”

“Me?” Briar was taken aback. Nobody was curious about her. “Why?”

“You seem to be a normal village girl. But you smell like death.”

Well, she certainly hadn’t been expecting that. “I smell? Like death?”

Tamlin’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way! You don’t smell, and even if you did, it wouldn’t be bad.”

Mother above, the awkward stammering was cute. “What did you mean, then?”

He spoke slowly, carefully choosing his words. “It’s more of…an aura, that I can sense. Of blood. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“I’m a butcher.” She decided to put Tamlin out of his misery. He was right, after all. She reeked of death. “I work with my father. We provide meat for this town, and all the surrounding villages.”

She understood why Tamlin would be surprised. She was a frail, willowy young woman. When she was younger, she had been prone to bursts of tears when she was overwhelmed. When her mother had been alive, her parents had run the butcher shop together. With that void in their lives, Briar had had to step into her mother’s place. She didn’t cry very much anymore.

“Oh.” Tamlin seemed relieved that he hadn’t insulted her. “You don’t like it very much.” A statement, not a question.

Briar shrugged. “I don’t have to like it, I just have to do it. It used to be harder. I used to dislike all the blood, and the dead animals. But I’ve gotten used to it.” The hundreds of rabbits and chickens she had skinned and dressed no longer phased her. Seeing them no longer made her heart ache for the life lost. Instead, they were her family’s next paycheck.

“I understand. I don��t much like what I have to do either.” He gave a shy smile that melted her heart. “You know I’d rather be a musician. What would you rather be doing?”

It didn’t take long to come up with an answer. “I like flowers.”

“Really?” Tamlin smiled again, bigger, with a flash of perfect white teeth. “Me too. You want to be a florist?”

“Not exactly. I like collecting them, learning about them. Finding the ways they are similar and different.” It was hard to explain her hobby to others. Most people assumed she wished to sell flowers, but that wasn’t exactly it. Her most prized possession was an encyclopedia of all the known plants in her area, divided up by their attributes. She had a notebook where she was making her own encyclopedia of sorts, filled with notes and drawings of all the flowers she encountered. “Right now I’m working on drying them out, so they can be preserved for longer periods of time.”

“What do you mean?”

It was easier to show than to explain. She pulled a leather folder the side of her hand out of one of her pockets. Inside was a small bouquet of flowers, dried and pressed and perfectly preserved between two panes of glass. There was no real reason that she carried it around, other than the foolish belief that someday she would meet somebody who cared about it enough to want to pay her to make more.

“It’s amazing,” Tamlin breathed, handling the glass carefully between his large, calloused hands. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Briar glowed at the appreciation for her craft. “I made that three years ago.”

“They’re perfect.” Despite the passage of time, the flowers hadn’t lost their color or shape. “How much do you want for it?”

Caught off guard by her fantasy coming true, Briar stuttered, “Oh, I don’t know. It’s not really for sale.”

“Please, I would love to have it. Money isn’t a problem.”

Staring into his earnest green eyes only flustered Briar even more. “You can just have it, I don’t think it’s worth anything.”

“I can’t just take it, I have to give you something.” Seeing that she wouldn’t be swayed, he reached into his hair and pulled out one of the flowers. “What if I trade you for this?”

Briar accepted the flower. Despite her knowledge of local flora, she had never seen anything like it before. It looked like a pale blue rose, with silver leaves. The petals had a glossy iridescence and appeared to change colors as she shifted it back and forth in the low light. “What is it?”

“It’s a rare flower, from my home,” Tamlin explained. “From my mother’s garden. She loved flowers too.”

Briar caught the past tense in his wistful words, and conceded. “Very well, I’ll trade.”

Tamlin beamed at her. He carefully wrapped up the pressed flowers and slipped them into his tunic. “I’ll take good care of them for my journey home.”

It sounded like he was preparing to go. “Are you leaving?” Briar found herself saddened by his loss. “The festival continues all night, all the way into the morning. I’m sure you could find somewhere to spend the night.”

“Thank you, but I must go. I have people at home expecting me.” Tamlin rose to his feet, and Briar followed suit. “Thank you, Briar. Talking with you has been a gift I will cherish. Apologies again for my clumsy small talk.”

“No need to apologize.” Briar gazed up at him, taking in all of his features. He really was a beautiful man. She had never seen anyone like him before. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

Tamlin leaned down and brushed his lips against her cheek. “I think I will,” he murmured into her ear. Before Briar could embarrass herself by begging him to stay, he was gone. She blinked, wondering if Ric had spiked the cider again. There was no sign that the fiddle player had ever been there, except for the exquisite rose cradled in her hands. She made her way back to the main part of the festivities, all of her attention on her gift. It was only when she bumped into someone else that she broke out of her reverie.

“Sorry,” Briar said to the young woman with silver bells on her wrists. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“All is well, sister,” the woman bobbed her head in greeting. “May the—” she cut herself off as she caught sight of the flower in Briar’s hand. Her eyes widened. “Where did you get that?”

“Someone gave it to me,” Briar answered, uneasy. “Why?”

“Tis a fae rose,” the woman breathed. “Nothing like it grows in the human realm, and it can only be picked by a High Fae.”

“But he…” Briar’s head spun. Her mind replayed everything that had happened that evening. Tamlin’s musical talent, his preternatural grace and beauty, how he claimed to sense the death that followed her like a dark cloud. Could he really be a High Fae? He had appeared human, but everyone knew that faeries were capable of disguising themselves, pulling the wool over naive mortal eyes. Everyone also knew that fae were wicked, deceitful creatures, who did nasty things to the humans they encountered.

Tamlin hadn’t been wicked. He had liked her. It was impossible to reconcile what Briar knew of faeries with the sweet man who had kissed her on the cheek.

The woman boldly hooked her arm with Briar’s elbow. “Come with me, sister. Tell me everything that happened. It sounds like you have been gifted with a visit from the High Fae. Are you familiar with the Children of the Blessed?”

“No.” Briar was taken in by the woman’s calm confidence. She clearly knew more about the fae than Briar did. And maybe she knew a way for her to see Tamlin again. “Show me.”

“Very well.” The woman lead Briar through the festival to a small group of others clad in pale blue robes. They greeted Briar warmly and gasped when she showed them the flower. They welcomed her into the fold, called her “sister”. She was home.

[hiraethwa]

hello Ave!!! What lovely weather we’re having <3 welcome to inbox infiltration season 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

On today’s menu I have *checks clipboard* ah, yes I see now. Hq analysis of my favorite? That seems right. where to begin with the anomaly that is Oikawa Tooru??? I’m so in love with this man omg (okay, this isn’t a yap about how hot I find him goodness). He’s such a good character, I mean they’re all good characters. But I especially like his character. If given the chance I will yap about him <3

he spends his early years in love with volleyball but over time grows to hate the sport. he would never see it as hate though, he doesn’t see it as anything other than love. but his love for volleyball turned into an obsession with being number one. that’s fairly common with athletes i’ve heard !! but he makes me so sad oml. he never sees himself as good enough.

there’s always someone he perceives as being in his way </3 when really the only person stunting his growth is himself…he’s holding himself back by not taking proper care of himself. he trains for hours on end to the point of injury (ankle injury. fandom i will never forgive you for gaslighting me into thinking he hurt his knee). he trains and trains and trains to exhaustion and the only person who sees it is Iwaizumi :( and he tries to help his friend but it’s hard to help people who don’t want to be helped.

he has so many challenges that he perceives but the time he does his best is after losing. (correct me if i’m wrong chat </3) he won his first set against Shiratorizawa after having a huge personal loss (being benched <//3). he needs to trust himself and i believe that’s similar to what Iwaizumi tells him lol. (it’s been a minute since I’ve watched this part of hq go easy on me chat :( ) once again we see him try and fail at something but it’s not the same as it was before.

he allows himself to learn from his mistakes instead of obsessing over them. he’s such a good side character to me hehe, i love how hq deals with side characters. everyone’s story feels complete. Seijoh wins the first match against Karasuno but he doesn’t feel happy. he doesn’t feel like he did his best. :( bcs he doesn’t think he beat Kageyama at his best so he looks down on himself for only beating Kageyama (someone he sees as better than him by leagues) when he’s at his perceived “worst.” omg I’m sorry love this is getting really long haha— I’ll try to cut it down now!!! when he loses to Karasuno he cries. but he also learns that he’s okay with the fact that he lost, that volleyball isn’t a sport that’s only him there’s five other people out there with him. he learns that “talent is something you make bloom” that he’s not a genius but he is talented and he needs to work on making it bloom in a healthy setting.

I especially love the panel (spoilers duh) where he learns that volleyball is fun again. it makes me bawl my eyes out every time. I can’t tell you why, it just makes me so happy and emotional that he finds love for a sport he had grown to hate. and then WE SEE HIM AT THE OLYMPICS. and he faces a team of everyone he’s perceived as better than him over the years and trained by his best friend. Everyone is at the best they will be and he gets to play against them again. ahhh—I love him so much. The story of not feeling good enough -> him finding that he doesn’t need to win to feel good enough he just has to have fun. that’s what his job is about lol, having fun (I’m heavily simplifying lol). I love that he found satisfaction with himself and he’s so <333 I love him :((

OKAY DONE. THAT’S A WRAP FOLKS!!! enjoy my analysis Ave lol <3 I hope this wasn’t too long :p <3

-kai <3

please find in your askbox that i will be matching your freak!

i love oikawa's complex villain character (he would singlehandedly defeat sukuna, fight me)

he's soooo UGHHHHH perfect angst material

fic ideas include but not limited to:

tooru breaking your heart because he doesn't have enough time for you/prioritise you

tooru leaving you behind for argentina

tooru's obsession with volleyball impacting your relationship

tooru not pursuing anything with you because he will never have enough time to treat you like you deserve to be treated

tooru falling out of love with you because your paths no longer align

tooru putting himself before you

oops

ILY KAI

match my freak! askbox event

[imgoingtofreakoutnow]

these hands of mine are clumsy, not clever

Summary: 4 times Hob touches Dream + 1 time Dream touches Hob

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Robert 'Hob' Gadling

Fandom: The Sandman (TV series)

Words: 850

Tags: Hob's POV, fluff, a sprinkle of pining, touch as the sexiest form of affection, touch-starvation

A/N: Hello there! Here is a small thing I wrote a bit back. I have already posted it on AO3 (yes, I have AO3, you can find me here) but I wanted to also share it here. Hope you enjoy! <3

The first time Hob touches Dream, it’s an accident.

Their fingers brush on the table as he’s passing him the sugar (he was not really sure if “one such as him” needed it in his coffee, but he didn’t decline his offer).

It’s a mere second, maybe less, but Hob notices how cold his skin is. Not the kind of cold that haunts you, though. Not the kind of cold that bites your skin and wounds your soul, a beast that he has seen crawling in trenches and through many streets during his lifetime.

No; Dream’s skin is a sip of a fresh drink on a hot summer day, soothing and leaving you begging for more.

The second time Hob touches Dream, it’s still an accident. Partly.

Hob didn’t plan to get drunk (which is already difficult in itself, considering that he has been working on his alcohol resistance since 1368), however when he leaves the New Inn with Dream that night, he hardly manages to put one foot in front of the other. So it's no surprise when he almost falls off the pavement and in the track of a taxi.

Almost.

Dream catches him by the arm as the cab runs past them in a hurry.

“You should be more careful, Hob.”

Hob nods absentmindedly, his thoughts focused on Dream's grip – stronger and firmer than he expected.

He wishes the pressure of his fingers didn't disappear so quickly, but the moment he opens the door of his flat it's gone, together with its owner.

The third time Hob touches Dream is not an accident. More like a first try on Hob's part.

As they're walking in the park, side by side, he lets his hand swing on his side, dangerously close to Dream's. And their knuckles brush.

He waits for Dream to move. To avoid that connection, as he has so often done in the past. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t mention it, nor does he flinch. He stays right where he is. And their knuckles keep brushing with each step they take.

Hob feels it again and again, the cold and light reflect in the former stranger, and it’s as intoxicating as the first time. They keep talking – Hob does most of the talking, as always – but everytime his hand swings back, everytime they brush, the lump in his throat gets harder and harder to swallow down and to ignore.

The fourth time Hob touches Dream is anything but an accident.

The first lights of a Sunday dawn are slowly painting the sky of soft pinks and yellows and Hob's starting to feel the sleepless night spent with Dream wandering through London heavy in his bones. He’s immortal, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s immune to tiredness.

“You should go to sleep,” Dream points out the obvious after he yawns for the third time in less than two minutes.

Hob shakes his head, pushing back the fourth one. “Not yet.”

He takes Dream’s hand without really thinking about it and drags him excitedly near the Thames. His cold skin is still there, his touch almost exhilarating, but Hob manages to forget it and keep his cool until they reach the river bank. The normally dark and dirty water shines as the sunrise lets his light reflect in the small waves, as if they were liquid diamonds.

“Over six hundred years and it never stops to amaze me.”

Dream turns to him, his expression softer, prompting him to continue.

“I know it’s nothing out of the ordinary, but it’s also never the same.” Hob instinctively tightens the grip on Dream’s hand ever so slightly. “Especially when you share it with someone else.”

And that’s when Dream touches Hob, when he places his empty hand softly on Hob’s cheek, his thumb stroking just below his cheekbone, his slender fingers reaching just behind the back of his neck.

His cold touch this time starts a fire just under his skin, flames that quickly spread to his entire body and lighting up every inch of his being. Setting his heart on a race against time itself.

“Six hundred years and you never stop to amaze me, Hob Gadling.”

Hob savours for a moment the way his name falls out of Dream’s lips before he’s able to speak again.

“I didn’t think you were interested in me,” he manages to utter, even though his breath gets shorter with every stroke of Dream’s thumb.

“And if I was?”

“If you were,” Hob stops for a second, taking one brief breath before the jump, “I would hope you’d let me kiss you.”

Slowly, at the same speed of the sun rising, a smile appears on Dream’s face. It’s small – Hob’s never seen a wide smile cut his face – but reaches his eyes, and for a second they also shine with the thousands flickering stars sprinkled in the sky.

“Quite a bold request.”

Hob tilts his head towards Dream’s hand without ever lowering his gaze, mustering a confidence that’s slowly slipping through his fingers. “May I, then?”

Dream’s smile grows slightly wider as his face inches closer to Hob’s. Their noses touch, their lips are barely apart. Hob’s barely breathing.

“You may.”

[argisthebulwark]

Hi yes hello just stopping by to say that I'm obsessed with everything you write. Every time you post something new I literally drop everything to read it immediately. Your drabbles about Farkas, Vilkas, and Brynjolf always leave me smiling, swooning, and pining. How you fit so much perfect characterization into so few words yet make it so spot on for them each individually leaves me in awe. Especially for the less popular characters! Like Balimund – love that big cuddly blacksmith man! And Thrynn! I flipped out when I saw you had Thrynn content, he's one of my absolute favorites and there's so little about him out there. I'm absolutely obsessed with your headcanons about him! But anyway, that's all, I love you and hope you have a lovely day.

Thank you!!! I wish I could type thank you a hundred times because this is so very kind, I am always so relieved to hear that people enjoy the things i write. I work really hard on characterization so it's awesome to hear that it comes across!!! Thrynn!! I know I haven't talked about him in ages but it's so exciting when people get interested in niche side characters, it feels like there's so much freedom with them since bethesda gave them a handful of repetitive lines and called it a day lol. I was soo into him for a hot minute idk what happened. I keep a sheet of paper with a running tally mark of how many times I've used each dude, I guess he just never made it on there lol. I am so so so grateful that we have this shared fandom space. It's so fun to create things and hear from folks that enjoy them, tesblr is the nicest place I've been on the internet. Thank you again for your message, it made my day <3

[winderlylandchime]

I love logging onto tumblr to learn that we are now discovering that Randy is poly and has a fun little podcast where he is outgoing and fun. Been a fan of that man since 2010 and in a span of a day, I learned more about him from a 40 minute podcast than I ever did before from all interviews and other stuff I ever saw with him in it. And now I have a lot of thoughts and feelings. I just realized that I actually can’t remember if i saw the podcast stuff from you or one of your mutuals omg, this is embarrassing, sorry if this is random and i got it all mixed up

Hello dear sweet anon!

I was posting about Randy’s podcast yesterday, but I didn’t start the ripple through the fandom. And I haven’t yet listened to any other episodes beyond the Poly Pocket episode (I will though!). I have so many thoughts, so buckle in.

First off, Randy’s voice is… idk it’s a little different from Justin’s. Which makes sense because he’s 20+ years older. But his voice sounds so so much like my friend’s voice. My friend who happens to be in an open marriage (like with hookups and boyfriends). So it was wild to hear him talk about things both pop culture and queer culture and relationships with many of the same opinion’s my friend has (also, just realized my friend’s initials are JT). I would love to get coffee with Randy and talk to him about drag race, I hope when I listen to other episodes I get to hear more of his hot takes on it.

Anyway, I adore Randy and Jordan’s opinions about monogamy and non-monogamy. As @phil-lester-is-my-sunshine has said Randy is so Brian Kinney-coded. His rejection of compulsory heteronormativity and all the trappings that go along with it (putting a romantic relationship above and beyond all other relationships, the need to get married, etc) and the idea that one should sacrifice oneself for a romantic relationship, I absolutely agree with. I thought it was interesting how both of them discussed how not having sex education (in the US) discuss sex beyond procreation in the context of hetero relationships and that created space for them as queer men to have a more analytical and nuanced approach to sex and relationships, I think is very true. Speaking as someone in a queer relationship (and previously in relationships that as a cisgender femme presenting woman were perceived as straight) I can speak to how much more freedom I have felt with my current partner/spouse to create a relationship that works for us compared with previous partners/spouse.

That said, I felt the conversation, while acknowledging differences for women (the pressure society places on us to be married and have children), didn’t fully take into account the experiences of *queer* women, where the expectations that are placed on women in relationships with men are sometimes the same and sometimes different but ultimately involve people who have consciously rejected heteronormativity. And, look, I’m glad that Randy and Jordan did not presume to speak for queer women (hi, Trixie and Katya, I adore you but your takes on lesbians during the I Like to Watch: Ultimatum Queer Love were not it).

I have found that lesbians/queer women/queer nonbinary afab folks are more open to non-monogamy than straight women (and I’m not talking about bisexual women in relationships with men, they are not straight). But it often doesn’t look like Brian and Justin going out and sleeping with a different trick every night. When Randy and Jordan spoke about the importance of platonic relationships (and YES THIS because our ace/aro siblings are a part of our community), I see often that queer women (as a shorthand for the identities listed above) have far closer and more intimate relationships with each other than straight women. There’s also less jealousy about being friends with exes, in my experience (and there’s some research to back this up). I don’t see as much (as much, so not zero) open relationships around sex as perhaps among gay men. Maybe that has to do with women being subjected to hormonal shifts through the “month” (loosely defined, for menstruating women) that impact our interest in sex and several days during the month (for menstruating women) when,frankly, I don’t want anyone touching my body because I’m in pain. Maybe that’s because sex with partners who each have a vulva is like… well one person I know described it as being on single-camera shoot and sex when (at least) one partner has a penis is more like a multi-camera shoot. That’s a very Hollywood analogy but there ya go. I don’t know. I do know that my spouse and I are sexually exclusive but that has far more to do with laziness and tiredness and chronic illnesses than a stance on sexual exclusivity. I also know that we more freely talk about people whom we find attractive than I see happening with my straight partnered friends. I don’t have any ex-girlfriends but my spouse does and I’m friends with many of them. I know that our concerns about being physically close with friends (sharing kisses, cuddles, etc) are nonexistent compared with the straight friends I have. I do know that when we have spoken about the future with our close friends, we talk about moving into a compound together and living as a large family. I also know that lesbians are known for falling fast and falling hard emotionally (aforementioned Ultimatum Queer Love - c’mon lesbians are MADE for reality tv dating shows, who else is falling in love in 3 weeks?) and that doesn’t always include sex. So the emotional intimacy of friendships has a large overlap with the emotional intimacy of our romantic relationships.

I hope that all makes sense.

I love Randy’s triad (they’re raising a kid together!) for him. I love Jordan’s open romantic relationship for him. I love their discussion about relationships. I just wish there had been even a teensy tiny acknowledgment that queer women may have experiences and thoughts about relationships that align with neither queer men nor straight women. That’s all.

Fun fact: there was a brief (very brief, trauma-induced) period where my spouse and I seriously considered having a child. Our friend (JT) was the only person we wanted as the sperm donor. And, when we discussed it with him, we talked about him moving in with us and all three of us raising the kid together. We would not have all three had a sexual relationship, of course, but we would have been a triad emotionally. Obviously, that did not come to fruition. But had I had a kid, I would have wanted no fewer than three parents. Per child. And this is, perhaps, why it was wonderful that I chose to not have kids.

[workingonit-currently]

League of Gentlemen fic 2

This time with a Chinnery fic. (Check out the last fic post for a Ross one)

Promise the Ollie one is coming but for all of you who prefer to read fics on tumblr click 'read more'.

Enjoy my small contributions to the fandom.

Finally, finally, you could hear the vet's car pull up.

You'd called him about half an hour ago because your cat was limping, since then you've been staring out the window at every car that passed by. (Most of which were just Barbara in her hot pink taxi.)

"Hello?" A voice calls as someone you hope is the vet knocks on your door.

"Hello." You respond with as you open the door, smiling as a blond haired man stands there in a sweater and long coat.

It strikes you as weird for a vet to not wear sterile lab clothing but what do you know, vets can wear whatever they want as long as they have a tightly strapped watch.

"Where's the patient then?" He asks as you turn to lead him further into the house, silently thanking him for closing the door behind him.

You eventually lead him to a cat-carrier with your little kitty in.

"This is Miro, he's been limping." You start, opening the cage and scooping him out to present him to the vet that you fail to remember the name of.

"Oh that's not good is it?" He mutters, reaching out for you to place Miro into his arms, cradling the cat so carefully, "What is wrong with you then Miro, aye?"

If he acts this sweetly with all the animals he encounters you can't see why your brother was reluctant for you to contact him. Practically begged you.

"I'm just going to put the kettle on, do you want something?" You ask to pass the time. There's nothing you can do, it's all out of your hands now.

"No thank you." The vet says as he slowly puts the cat down and holds it in place, feeling along it's hips for any kind of crack or break.

.

".....You know, sometimes there is no logic...things just die, sometimes there's nothing you can do. You did everything right and still it goes wrong." Matthew Chinnery murmurs as he rubs you back.

You'd only been gone a couple minutes and poor little Miro had gone in that time, died. You couldn't explain it if you tried but you supposed that's what Mr Chinnery is trying to say.

"I don't know why I'm crying, you're the one who saw Miro die." You confess, trying to pull yourself together and look at the poor vet. Gosh he must feel so useless, an animal dying under his care.

Chinnery offers a small smile at your distraught face as he continues rubbing your back, "I'm used to it."

Reaching out you place a hand on his arm before sighing, "It doesn't make it easier though."

Matthew doesn't say anything to this but you do spend a couple minutes just in the moment before he claps his hands together and rises.

"Well, I best be off, animals need attending to. Call me again if..."

"Miro was my only pet Mr Chinnery but I might see you again. Are you local?" You explain as you both walk to the door.

"Oh yes, I cover the whole of Royston Vasey." He answers with a smile and a nod as you open the door for him and let him go through.

"On your tiny little bike?"

He chuckles at that but doesn't answer as you wave him goodbye before closing the door.

Only then realising you have a dead cat to think about disposing of now.

.

It's only the next day you see the veterinary again, biking past with a lead trapped in his back wheel.

"Chinnery!" You shout half-way through a friendly wave, dropping the bags of shopping you were holding.

It's unfortunate but at least it startles the vet enough for him to screech to a stop, stumbling a bit.

"God, Matthew, your bike." You wheeze, your mind flashing with the worst case scenario. You'd just lost a dear cat yesterday, you're starting to suspect you might be cursed if this dog dies.

Chinnery looks at his bike while still on it before his eyes widen at the dog and lead attached to it.

"Oh dear." He mutters as he unties the dog carefully. You watch on with a minor bit of worry but are thankful, just this once, that there are seemingly no cars in this town driving about.

"I suppose that's why people are starting to give their pet's breakaway buckle collars now..." He muses as he looks up at you, finally having untied the dog from the bike, "Now, do you happen to know who's dog this is?"

You shake your head before cautiously taking the lead Chinnery holds out for you, the man slowly shuffling his bike onto the pavement.

It's a sweet dog, though of no recognizable breed, brown, black and white with a square muzzle and short stubby legs.

"Can you take them for me? I was just on my way to a call-out." Matthew asks as he starts waddling the bike along the pavement, yourself picking up your bags to walk with him, the dog's lead still in your hand.

"...That was troubling."

"Not at all, call-outs are completely normal. I can't be everywhere at once." He admits with a light tone.

"I mean the dog. Imagine if you had ridden all the way to some person's house, the dog would probably be dragging behind you, dead."

The vet nods in agreement before sighing, a hand rubbing his chin as his smile falls.

"..Oh well, I'll be seeing you." He announces before pushing off with his bike, the cheerful look back on his face, leaving you with a random dog and your hands full of shopping.

You watch him go before taking a deep breath in.

"I'm going to call you Alex, after a friend of mine." You state to the dog as you look down at him before restarting your walk home.

"I don't think your near-death was an accident Alex, something strange is going on."

Something strange is going on. You are almost completely sure now. After wandering around, a random dog following you, and asking the people of Vasey, you keep getting similar answers.

"Oh Matthew's wonderful, he did kill *insert any animal here* though."

Could it be that Matthew Chinnery is cursed? Does he secretly hate animals?

Looking down at Alex, the dog, you press down that last thought. Chinnery is too sweet to kill animals on purpose, though training for years as a vet is really not the most efficient way to kill animals, even if he is fooling you.

"Good job Alex." You mutter, processing all you've been told today as your feet lead you home . . "Hmm, doesn't make sense..." You breathe, squinting at your notebook.

"Any clues Alex?" You ask the unhelpful pooch to your right, earning you a long yawn in response.

You haven't got a dog bed, on account of you having not owned a dog before today, so little Alex had had to find a place to sleep on your bed.

"Fair enough pup, fair enough."

It's late for the poor dog and it's late for you. Far too late to be staring at scribbles and drawings that would make very little sense to most awake brains, never-ending your exhausted one.

Rubbing the dog's head before getting up from your position on the bed to prepare for bed, you decide tomorrow you will approach Chinnery anew.

It's fair to say it wasn't an easy sleep. You're not used to the added weight of a dog lying on your legs and more than once you awoke to the sudden impression you were being held down, trapped.

Nevertheless the morning still comes and with a warming breakfast, so does your research on Chinnery.

Your finger trails over the writing on the notebook, the ink deep ingrained to the page.

It's all rubbish, fear-mongering on the supernatural about curses and curses, ailments brought on by psychic energy and blood harvesting.

Still, it's good for getting an idea of what you're dealing with.

"You don't think Matthew fell into a bog as a child, do you?"

Alex the dog doesn't respond, still pacing around the kitchen and sniffing under the cupboards.

"No, me neither."

You run a hand through your hair before sighing, closing your eyes for a minute to clear your head.

"Okay Alex, time to call in the original Alex. Classic Alex."

You reach for your phone before pausing. Stopping yourself as you think.

"No..." You conclude. Why bother original Alex when it's none of your business.

Matthew seems to have operated for years without help, perhaps he doesn't want the curse to end. Perhaps he wouldn't know what to do if it did.

Luckily you don't have to stay too long on those thoughts as your phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Ah! Sorry, is this the right number?"

You pause before answering, locking eyes with Alex.

"Depends Chinnery, did you mean to call me?"

Suspicious that the one person you were thinking about just so happens to call you.

More than that, it's stranger as you have only Alex the dog left as a pet and you don't think there's anything medically wrong with him yet.

"Matthew?"

"Yes?"

"Did you need something?" You slowly ask.

"Yes," He pauses as you imagine time wetting his lips quickly to prepare himself to continue, "Would it be okay to make a house visit after work today?"

You almost ask why but push it away, not wanting to say the wrong thing and spook the poor vet.

Chinnery must have interpreted the silence as reluctance anyway though as he quickly adds, "For the dog. From yesterday. Want to check on him, make sure he's okay after that scare."

"Of course Dr Chinnery. Come around any time this evening, we will be waiting." . . A storm starts after six. Dark and heavy, thrashing against your windows and sending a chill throughout the house.

If you didn't know better you'd think it was atmospheric. You think Chinnery is going to reveal his curse, whatever that might be, and you think the night senses it, putting on the performance fitting of such a reveal.

"Any minute now Alex, it's okay." You comfort the whining dog in your lap. You aren't working, haven't found anything yet, so you've stayed home, faced the storm with your new companion.

"Any minute..."

You hope that's true.

You also hope that's a knock on the door and not the wind hitting it.

Just as you suspected, Mr. Chinnery is standing there in the pouring rain, drenched and staring at you with pleading eyes.

"You look like you've been crying."

It's a simple statement to ease the tension before you step aside, ushering him in and looking out into the wet black one last time, shutting the door.

As you spin around your heart breaks a small fraction. Matthew Chinnery looks lost.

He's standing in your living room, dripping onto the carpet and trying to suppress his shivers. He's still got his large green coat on, though it is undone as always and seemed not to have made a difference with the storm.

"Sit Chinnery, sit." You instruct as you breeze past him and sit on your sofa, watching as he looks down, his mouth forming a small line.

"Matthew." You start, focusing his attention on you and not the sofa behind him, "My furniture has survived worse than a soaking veterinary on it."

Finally Chinnery relents and sits, only cringing slightly as he does so, knowing he's sodden the sofa now.

You nod at him before sitting yourself, carefully inspecting the room for Alex though thankful when you can't find him.

He's hopefully hid somewhere. Smart dog.

"So.." You're unsure how to start, "Animals die around you a lot?"

"Yes...any animals..until you came along.." Chinnery mutters, rubbing his chin again before glancing at you.

"You...you see, it's a...curse." He adds, voice quivering as he looks anywhere but at you.

"Or it's supposed to be!" He clarifies, obviously nervous to admit his family might actually have a curse despite the fact it's the only thing that makes sense of this nonsense.

"You are cursed?"

Slowly but surely he nods, glancing at you.

With a sigh you take out your phone and press call, "Alex, it happened again."

Chinnery looks at you like you're insane while you hum and nod along to the person you've just called.

"No, vet this time. Makes a change doesn't it." You explain as you look at the poor man, giving him your best reassuring smile, "You're going to be okay Chinnery, Alex has been through this before."

"The dog?" He asks, looking at where Alex the dog has entered, staring up at him with curious eyes.

"Okay. I'll bring the lighter." You ignore him before ending the call and focusing on Matthew.

He looks confused, concerned and overall out of his depth. It makes you want to hug him.

"Don't worry veterinary, we'll have you uncursed by tomorrow evening."

Chinnery blinks.

"...And what am I suppose to do until then? I have a full day tomorrow."

You hadn't thought of that. Real life doesn't time-skip and you need him uncursed now. (Or Alex the dog is going to die.)

"Call off sick?"

Matthew looks at you with wide eyes, "Excuse me?"

"Say you've got a rare sickness, can't see any animals or you could pass it on to them and..."

"Kill them. Yes." He nods before sighing, ducking his head into his hands.

You let him stay like that until a few seconds pass without him moving. It starts to get concerning, him sitting hunched over and not saying a word, soaking wet and shivering. 

So you decide to do something.

Standing up from the sofa, barely acknowledging Chinnery's glance at you, you head to the kitchen and put the kettle on.

"How many sugars do you take?"

.

Matthew's a lot better now, with a warm sugary drink in his hands and his coat stripped off.

His top and jumper are still soaked, along with the rest of him, but there's nothing you can do about that.

"Better?"

"Yes, thank you." He hums as he sips the tea, still hunched over.

The storm hasn't relented, still battering down your door and windows, as you realise there's no way in good spirits you can let Matthew head back home tonight in this. Meaning you'll somehow have to convince him to stay with you.

And hopefully change out of his sodden clothes lest he catch pneumonia.

"Well, I should be heading off." Chinnery starts as he places his cup to the side, smiling warmly as he intends to leave you politely and swiftly.

"Oh no Mr Chinnery, I don't think you can leave tonight." You start, quite aware it could sound like you're trapping him here forever.

"Pardon?"

"I mean..." You pause to draw his attention to the storm outside and the sound of heavy rainfall, "In this storm I can't allow you to go home alone. Staying here would be much safer."

He has the common sense to at least think about it, lips pressed together into a line, before answering.

"I can't, I'm not equipped to. I haven't got nightclothes or anything."

"No worries. I steal my brother's clothes all the time and he's around your size, you can have those." You say, dismissing his concern with a little wave.

A second passes again as he considers this before sighing.

"Fine. One night couldn't hurt."

And so, you set him up in your spare bedroom and give him a pile of your brothers clothes before shutting the door.

Breathing out a sigh of relief you walk to your bedroom and are happy to find Alex the dog waiting for you, sleeping.

"What a night Alex."

The dog, of course, doesn't respond, not even stirring from his slumber as you sit next to him and absently stroke his fur.

"One night can't hurt." You mutter to try and reassure yourself, the fear of waking up to Alex being dead tragically or Matthew having left to brave the storm alone, both twisting in your head and making you sick to your stomach.

"I think we might have a problem!" Chinnery calls from his bedroom. It's a welcome distraction from your worries but does mean you sprint to him faster than you would normally.

When you open the door to the spare bedroom you do find Chinnery in a situation.

"I might have misjudged how similar your sizes were."

The vet is half drowning in your brother's clothes as you attempt to hold back your laughter to not awake the dog.

"At least they're not too tight." You offer, approaching Chinnery and carefully try and take his hand, pulling him upright.

When he's standing up it's not too bad, the trouser legs just present a tripping hazard and the top could fall off if he shuffled his arms around but it's not too bad you try and tell yourself.

"Has the storm subsided yet?" He enquires fruitlessly.

"They say it's going to be with us all night."

Carefully you help him to his bed so he doesn't trip, before sitting next to him.

"I mean it Matthew, by tomorrow evening you won't have this curse anymore."

He doesn't respond and when you look at him you see he's just staring at the carpet with glossy eyes.

"Thank you." He manages with a quiet voice that scarcely carries the same image of the happy-go-lucky vet he presents.

"Like I said, I've been through this before." You remind him, waving away the praise. You don't think you deserve it, not until the job's done and Chinnery can rest easy.

"No, I mean thank you. For...believing me."

You huff before leaning against his shoulder.

"You deserve it Matthew, you're a good person."

.

You leave him after that, the image of a veterinarian drowning in pyjamas not quite leaving you yet. It brings a warmth to your chest despite the chill the storm is trying to enforce.

Despite the warmth Chinnery brings, you attempt to push any thought of him down until tomorrow, snuggling in bed with the already sleeping Alex the dog. It's successful until an hour later there's a quiet knock at your door as it slowly creaks open.

Standing there, silhouetted by the hall light, is Chinnery.

His head is bowed and his shoulders slumped as he slowly approaches, unsure if you're awake and unaware you watch him.

"Hello."

The voice that leaves him is barely above a whisper and yet feels so loud in the silent and dark room you almost feel sorry for him.

"Are you awake?" He calls again, approaching further and unaware that you still watch him.

Once he reaches the top of your bed he pauses, taking a moment of quiet contemplation as he seemingly decides something to himself.

"If you are, I can leave. I just...I just wanted to talk.."

As he turns to leave you finally decide to speak up.

"Stay."

It's like a dagger that pierces the heart of the darkness but it does it's job as Chinnery stops his retreat, looking back at you frozen.

"What...What did you want to talk about?" You ask.

He continues to pause before reapproaching, silently asking if he can sit and sitting once you give him a nod.

"Nothing."

You give him a look in the darkness.

"What if...If it fails?"

"What?"

"What if it fails?" He looks at you as he asks this, he really looks at you. It means you can see how his eyes shine as they catch what little light is entering your room, you can see the tears threatening to spill.

"Oh Chinnery." You sigh before bringing him into a hug, your heart dropping as his body sags into the contact.

Gosh, how long, you wonder, has this man been carrying this. It was hard enough for him to admit this evening he thinks he has a curse but what more is he holding in?

His shoulders shake as he buries his head, the tension in him betraying how much he is trying to hold back.

If he was a dam you'd visualise the dam creaking, groaning under all the tension. All the tension he's subjecting himself to just to try and not be heard.

If you strain you can even make out soft whispers of apologise from Matthew in between sniffles and whimpers.

He doesn't deserve this.

You hold him close, willing all his pain away as he struggles to not break down, muscles tense as they fight his sadness.

"You're going to be okay Veterinary"

You keep holding him, brushing his hair until he starts relaxing.

This was not how you thought the night would go but you're not complaining. Not when you have an admirably cute vet hiding against your chest.

.

So, you slept with the vet.

You're rapidly realising that now in the increasing morning light as it shines through your window and on the face of Matthew Chinnery nestled up in your duvet, in your bed.

He looks peaceful like this, the lines on his brow softened and his mouth slightly parted in a silent snore, extremities neatly curled into his balled form.

You suppose it's not the worst thing to have happened and it is explainable, with you two being further tired from Chinnery's breakdown last night, you both slipped right off in the embrace of your bed without a thought for how it might be in the morning.

Making the most of the situation you slip out of bed and downstairs, shushing Alex the dog as you put the kettle on.

Making tea and toast you hum as Alex circles your feet in the morning sun.

"Want to go out, Pup?" You ask him and receive an enthusiastic smile.

At least you think it's an enthusiastic smile as you put a lead on him and change clothes, making sure Chinnery is still sleeping.

Sneaking out of the house before locking the door, you go on a walk with Alex.

The air is wet and silent as it is the early hours but you don't mind. You like the silence as you can hear the paw-patter of Alex and your own crunching of your boot.

You appreciate that it's not warm, it is never warm here. Alex, the real Alex, doesn't like the warm and you suppose, looking down at Alex the dog, he wouldn't appreciate it either.

Shops are opening as you walk past, nodding your head to anybody who catches your eye before being stopped by Alex refusing to move past a certain shop.

"Alex." You warn but he still doesn't move.

Groaning before giving in, you enter the butchers.

Having been here for a short while you hadn’t had the chance to enter the butchers before but now that you do, you see it's very similar to the ones back home. The same counter and set-up of meat, though the butcher is different.

"Hello." You greet to him, regretting not reading the name of the shop outside.

"Hello. Who do we have here?" He greets before crouching down to look at Alex the dog who barks happily at him.

You laugh awkwardly.

"Alex. Sorry, I haven't had him for long, haven't trained him not to bark yet." You explain before holding the lead tighter as the butcher laughs and focuses back on you.

"It's no problem, what do you need?"

You offer a smile before eyeing the meats on display, trying to figure out what you can buy.

It's all neatly labelled but eventually, as you stare and think, all the meats blend in to one pink colour.

"Umm...What would you recommend for the dog?" You eventually look back and enquire of the butcher.

He blinks at you for a moment before looking down at Alex, facial expression not changing from a neutral one.

"Liver I should think." He mutters before grabbing what you assume is liver and bagging it.

You smile before biting your lip and finally asking.

"Do you know the vet, Chinnery?"

The butcher pauses at this, eyes looking you up and down before slowly answering.

"Yes, why?"

The air has suddenly got a little thicker as he stares at you. Was he always this scary or had he suddenly become strangely threatening?

"Oh, he..umm..." You stammer before taking breath and pulling yourself together, "Is he a vegetarian? Do you know?"

His eyes narrow at you, chin rising as he doesn't answer.

You swallow as you hold his gaze, hoping maybe someone else will enter the shop and take the pressure off you. You're not that lucky though. Not even Alex takes pity on you as he continues to stare, clueless at the butcher who is staring you down.

"What do you know of Mr. Chinnery?" He asks slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he reaches down and grabs some meat with his gloved hands.

If you think it's a rude question, you dare not comment.

"Not much, I haven't been here long." You answer somewhat honestly as the butcher huffs and finally breaks eye contact to turn and wrap the meat he's picked up.

You glance down at Alex who is still staring at the butcher, mouth open and tongue lolling out.

The smell you might have thought interesting, of blood and meat, has turned rancid in your nose and yet you can't leave without paying. Even if the butcher is making you squirm, you will not falter.

"A word of advice, if I may?" He starts, turning with a bag and a smile, "If you care for your little pet's well-being, stay away from Chinnery. Strange things happen to animals around here and it's mostly his fault."

You smile back at him, taking the bag before clicking your tongue at Alex to indicate you should go, handing over the money needed before turning and walking to the door.

"Have a nice morning." He calls as you leave.

.

You return to a slightly more musical house than when you left. Chinnery's in the kitchen, cautiously trying to find breakfast, turning to face you as you enter.

He looks awkward but not anything more as you stare at each other, yet you feel the need to break this off quickly.

"Just...stay where you are." You instruct, looking down at Alex before moving away from the kitchen to take the dog to the safety of the bedroom.

"I'm sorry pup, you're going to stay here. I can't risk it."

Alex doesn't understand. Yet Alex stays in the bedroom as you close the door, moving to sit on your bed.

"Everything okay?" Chinnery asks as soon as you get downstairs. He's abandoned his search for breakfast and instead is now focusing on you.

You wave him off, "All good."

You can't tell him you're starting to doubt yourself. You've only known about this curse for less than a day and he's had to experience it his entire professional life, you can't let him know you're afraid.

So you just put the bag on the table and reach inside, surprised there's two packages instead of one. They both look innocent enough but in one there is an unknown meat. A meat packaged by a strange butcher who warned you about the dangers of a seemingly nice enough vet.

Still, you put both away in the fridge and smile at Chinnery as he sits down, a mug of tea in front of him.

"I thought it would be okay to help myself to the teabags," he explains.

It looks like he takes it with only a drop of milk, the liquid being a deeper colour brown than you have.

"You thought correctly. As long as you're a guest here, you can help yourself to anything."

He smiles up at you, ducking his head as he sips his tea.

"You called someone yesterday?"

"Yeah, my friend, Alex."

He pauses at this, looking upwards to the ceiling where Alex the dog is sleeping above him.

"The man you named the dog after?"

You nod, glad he got it in one.

He doesn't say anything after that, humming before going back to sipping his tea. You suppose it will continue like this, waiting with nothing to do for the rest of the day.

.

It's just about to turn the afternoon when you stand waiting at the train station.

Matthew had suggested you bike but you didn't have a bike and Alex, the dog, could do with more walking.

Due to the 'dog' predicament and the fact Chinnery can't interact with an animal butting it in the way of Damocles' sword, the vet had walked a few feet behind and is now standing far away from where you're stood in the station.

You'd glance at him every now and then, just stood there. It's a sad sight but one both of you agreed was for the best.

Luckily you can't continue to take pity on the poor vet as a train arrives at that moment, a cloud of steam you think is highly unnecessary and your friend is here.

You don't blame Chinnery for falling over, at least you assume he's fallen over due to the clanging sound behind you. Alex, the real original Alex, is a little intimidating.

"Alex." You greet with a smile, looking up at him as he scans the station, eyes narrowing at Matthew.

"Hey." He eventually greets back, looking away from the vet and back at you, a softness to him.

"This is also Alex" You introduce the dog as Alex kneels down to greet him.

"And he's the reason we kinda need this sorted."

Pointing with your head in the general back direction seems to do the trick as Alex hums.

He then marches up to Chinnery, you trailing behind and advising him that maybe that's not the best, glancing down at the dog Alex.

Alex, the not-dog, looks at Chinnery for a second, towering over him before asking, "Is this him? The cursed vet?"

You hum before Alex narrows his eyes, Matthew shuffling under the gaze.

"What kind of curse?" He enquires towards the vet but isn't surprised by you answering. He is putting on his best intimidating persona. (Which you do not thank him for. Spooking the poor vet.)

"Blood curse. Kills all animals he interacts with."

"Mhm, tricky one." Alex admits, rubbing his hands together.

Glancing over at Chinnery, you try not to chuckle. He's hunched over a little, almost making himself seem smaller so he can go unnoticed. You assume it's unintentional but you wouldn't fault him for purposefully curling in on himself, Alex does that to a lot of people.

Seeing the predicament the vet is in, you take pity on him.

"Why don't you go and get settled in my house and we'll leave you be?" You suggest to Alex as you pat his arm, smiling and guiding him towards the house.

He looks down at you with a raised brow and a smile, silently asking if this is really what you want to do.

Your refusal to answer tells him exactly what he needs to know as he rolls his eyes, takes the dog and walks to the house.

"Chinnery." You greet as you're once again alone with the vet.

It's amusing, to think you and him had waited all day just for Alex and now he's here, you've dismissed him just to be alone together again.

.

You begin your wander, taking in the town with Chinnery.

"So..." He starts as he falls in pace beside you.

"So." You repeat back to him.

"What is Alex, the real one, going to do?"

You shrug.

"Form a plan. A concrete one."

Chinnery hums as you continue, reaching the main road to the town now. In a couple of minutes there will actually be buildings and shops around you.

"And do you know what that plan might entail? I don't actually know how one goes about breaking a curse..." He admits, a little sheepish as in your peripherals you see he dips his head.

"Hmm.." You mutter before thinking, slowing your pace, "Probably passing the curse on. That's much easier than breaking a curse..."

At this the vet stops dead.

"Pardon?"

You stop just a few steps in front of him, looking back concerned.

"I think he might suggest we pass on the curse instead of break it." You repeat, not worrying yourself about the method of curse removal as you see Matthew's face fall.

Not once in your limited time of knowing him have you seen the face he's wearing right now. It's what you would imagine annoyance on his face to look like. His eyebrows are down, mouth in a tight line as his shoulders tense.

"No."

His eyes are fixed sternly on you.

"Okay."

You lie. You know your plan involves passing on the curse as well. You just agree to keep Matthew happy, let him believe no one else will get hurt.

Someone always has to get hurt though.

.

It turns dark before you return to your house, having wandered the streets for a significant amount of time. Enough time to run out of things to easily discuss.

"Another night in my spare room for you Mr Chinnery."

He huffs at this with a smile but doesn't comment as he holds open the front door for you.

"Lads! Come get dinner and a drink!" Alex, the original, calls through the house as you both enter.

You shrug at Matthew before walking towards the kitchen to greet Alex. He really didn't need to cook dinner but you're not going to complain.

You also see Alex must have gone out to buy drinks because you don't remember having this many alcoholic beverages in your house before he arrived.

"Alex, are you trying to get us drunk?" Chinnery asks, curious rather than judgemental.

He smiles before asking the vet what drink he wants.

"I'll go set up the supernatural movies."

You assume you're watching something supernatural. It fits the theme of this entire undertaking, plus it'll give you an excuse to see if Matthew is squeamish.

.

You're half way through the second movie, you don't know what it's called, when you notice Chinnery's head bobbing.

Perhaps bobbing is not the right word.

It's falling before he jolts himself awake. It's amusing.

"Matthew." You call, nudging his side just to see how awake he is.

It takes a handful of seconds before he realises what happened and turns to you with a goofy smile and half lidded eyes.

He hums as a response.

"Tired?"

He yawns slowly but doesn't respond for a couple more seconds, eventually muttering, "No...Just under stress."

You tut but don't comment, letting him go back to blankly staring at the screen.

He's got a constant grip on his bottle of drink that he sometimes drinks from but the head lolling doesn't stop and you're making your peace with letting him fall asleep down here.

It's by the third movie you take pity on him and inform Alex you'll be dragging the inebriated vet up the stairs.

"Good news, if he falls, you won't have to worry about the curse."

You roll your eyes and hook an arm around Chinnery.

He's pretty tired by the time you get him to bed, the drink making him quite the dead weight.

"And here we go!" You announce as soon as he manages to sit on the bed, shuffling to lie under the covers and get into a sleeping position.

He smiles wide at you before closing his eyes and sighing loudly.

"Good night." He breathes, eyes flicking open before they close again as he shuffles into a different position on the bed, head lying deep back on the pillows under him.

"Good night Matthew." You warmly sigh as you slowly walk away and close the door, leaving it open just enough to look in a crack.

He drifts off soon after, tossing over once and then staying there.

You watch him sleep, duvet slowly rising and falling in the non-existent lighting.

Then you whisper a small apology.

.

You're in a new town, one town over from Vasey.

You're here to pass the curse on and save Chinnery, whether he wants that or not.

It's the middle of the night and there's practically no one around, just you and Alex.

You'd taken the bus. (A less dramatic mode of transport than a car but Alex loves public transport and supporting it so you'd taken the bus.)

The dog Alex was also here as you needed an animal to call a vet and you were not dressing up as a cat again for one of Alex's schemes.

"Are you sure the vet we want is here?" You asks Alex as you hold the dog's lead.

He nods before taking out his phone.

"Five accounts of malpractice, multiple complaints by owners of inappropriate comments and touching. One account of assault."

"And that's just counting the ones who've come forward." You mutter.

If you are going to potentially ruin a person's life, you want them to have ruined it already themselves.

One scared phone call and a few fake tears leads you to the vet's office.

"Hello, oh, I haven't seen you before?" The vet introduces and addresses just you, not addressing your friend, instantly setting off alarm bells.

"Um, yeah, we just came from Vasey." You explain, a little cautious as usually people will address the six foot man before you.

The vet continues to just focus on you as he ahh's, eyes widening.

"I understand." He nods with a tone of amusement, "Didn't want to risk your pet with Dr. Damocles."

You are taken back by this.

"Pardon?"

The vet pauses as he looks you up and down before speaking again.

"The vet in Vasey, Mr. Chinnery, he kills as many animals as he saves." The vet explains simply as if he thinks you might be a bit slow on the uptake.

You bite your tongue at this, thinking there's no use in getting defensive for the sake of Matthew, not when you have a job that will benefit him more than defending his honour right now would ever do.

You don't speak much as the vet continues to inspect the dog Alex. You'd complained about noticing some internal issues with him, something that couldn't be seen easily.

Since Alex technically shouldn't have anything wrong with him, you just wanted to waste as much time as you could.

"You know," The vets starts as you strap yourself in for another unneeded comment.

"It is pretty hard to work with you breathing down my neck...Would you mind stepping away?" They ask, directing their comment towards Alex.

Alex glances at you, exchanging a silent note before nodding and stepping away.

You both know what this is. Why Alex was told to step away but you were not.

Alex is stood away, as recommended by the vet but he is keeping a keen eye on you. You can practically hear the sizzling of the back of the vet's head.

"The dog seems fine." The vet explains as he looks at you, smiling just a little too wide.

"Oh, thanks."

"You know, now we're alone, here's my private card."

You slowly take the card before remembering to force a smile. Your view is painted, due to the aforementioned list of charges against the vet, but right now, they just make your skin crawl naturally.

"Um, thanks. Actually..." You glance behind you to Alex, "Can we go somewhere a little more...private?"

"Oh. What do you have in mind."

The vet falls for it. They are reasonably attractive so you assume they must be use to a little flirting.

You bite your lip before forcing yourself to take the vet's hand, leading them out into the street and looking for some place dark.

You just pray Alex is somewhere close. .

.

"Oh hey." Alex greets behind you as you adjust your gloves again.

"Wha-" A familiar voice starts as you smile and turn.

"Shh, don't make a sound, you'll ruin the atmosphere." You interrupt as you place a hand over the vet's mouth.

You see, in their eyes, them trying to put together what's happening. Last they remember they were in a dark alley, about to force themself on you.

"Alex, look, confused." You laugh as you take your gloved hand away and look at your friend.

He's happily taking a box out of a suitcase but does glance at you with a smirk.

You're currently at your car, the vet tied up and sitting in the boot. You're far enough away from Vasey, though you were worried taking the bus back and driving all the way here would mean the vet would wake up while you were gone. Lucky for us, that didn't happen.

"What do you want?"

"Straight to bargaining." Alex mutters.

"Very nice, but there's nothing you can do to stop this I'm afraid." You inform the vet with a mocking frown. Their confusion and annoyance is quite satisfying.

Matthew told you both the tale of how his family inherited the curse, you just had to get a few drinks into him.

He doesn't half talk when he's emotional.

Cautiously you watch as Alex takes a withered item out of the box, holding it up and slowly approaching the vet.

"What...Is that?"

Despite their question, their eyes don't move from the withered necklace.

How curious, it must have some kind of hypnotic effect on vets. Curious indeed.

"I don't know." Alex starts, bringing it closer still, "Shall we find out?"

He stops in front of the vet, dangling the item so it's just in front of their face.

"Go on. Touch it."

They do as instructed, though since their hands are currently tied up they just bring their face closer to the item to inspect it.

"What is it?" They ask.

You don't have the heart to tell them.

But you do swear that same heart feels lighter the second they touch the item and Alex laughs.

You find yourself joining in, amazed at the ease as the vet looks between you two, confused and snapped out of whatever hypnotic daze the monkey's nuts put them into.

"What the fuck."

You ignore them, you smile at Alex as he puts the item away. You've written a note in the box, something to tell any who find it what it is and what it can do. You know this vet's descendants might be good, might not deserve the curse, so you have made plans.

"What did you do bitch?" The vet demands.

That breaks the atmosphere for you as you turn and glare at them.

You don't get to glare long, a forceful punch knocking the vet out as they fall backwards and Alex rubs his knuckle.

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

.

Chinnery wakes up with a hangover. A throbbing in his head as his eyes water. God, he wishes he didn't drink so much.

This is not his home and he doesn't remember going to bed, yet that's the least of what's on his mind as he stumbles down a flight of stairs and into a kitchen.

Water, that's the main thing on his mind, he needs to wash the buzzing out of his mouth. So, obviously, his solution is to stick his head under the sink and turn the tap on.

It's glorious for all the two seconds before the realisation strikes him, in time with the water, that he's drowning himself.

"Having fun?" A voice booms as Chinnery tries to quickly extract his head from the sink and look at the person the voice belongs to.

Alex, the human, is standing at the entryway with his arms crossed, staring with a smile at the vet. He, Chinnery assumes, looks nowhere as bad as the vet looks.

Chinnery wipes what he can of the water, unsuccessfully, off his hair before responding.

"Sorry."

Alex snorts at this, approaching Chinnery as he reaches behind the vet to open a cupboard and grab a glass.

"Don't apologise to me, apologise to the owner of the house. You're dripping all over their wood flooring."

Chinnery looks down at the floor as more droplets fall from his face and onto the waxed flooring. He can't exactly bare the thought of trying to clear any of the water up, if he thinks about anything he might throw up.

"Drink this, it'll help." Alex instructs as he places the glass under the tap and fills it before taking out a packet of something and dropping it in the liquid.

The poor vet watches as the water fizzes before becoming cloudy.

He's not sure he wants to drink that...

He doesn't get a choice though, Alex shoving it in his hands and taking a step back, observing.

Matthew gulps before moving his gaze down to the glass.

After a few sips Matthew has to place his head back in the sink, though thankfully not with the water running this time.

Alex silently rubs his back and takes the glass away. It is hard for the vet, in-between spasms, to guess what the man is thinking as he watches him throw up in a sink.

"We will cure you today." Alex mutters slowly as the heaving comes to its end. It's not much but it's hope.

.

How amusing to have an elaborate plan for today that is completely unnecessary. Matthew is cured, he should have been since the other vet touched a monkey's cock and ball's last night, and yet here you three are dancing to get rid of a curse already gone.

So far you've had him bike once around town, quizzed him on veterinary practices and shown him pictures of animals.

It's not the most scientific but neither is a curse.

"Okay, time-out." Alex announces as Chinnery finishes warming his hands.

You suspect the trial by fire Alex recommended as their last exercise was more to do with him wanting to use the grill he brought than "burn the curse out" as he claims.

You don't let Chinnery know that though, though he could suspect it as you hand him a bottle of water and smile.

This entire day has been to fool the vet, you can't help but feel bad.

Still, there was no other way.

A vet must be cursed.

And Matthew had bared the curse enough for twelve lifetimes.

"How goes the trials?" You ask, having seen them all and yet still enquiring of Matthew.

He hums before answering, his hair a little untidy due to the aforementioned trails.

"Confusing."

"Yeah..." You mutter before taking a sip of your own drink, "But so are curses and magic."

"Who said anything about magic?" He asks, concerned from beside you. The slight upturn in his lip clues you in that he's just teasing though.

Rolling your eyes and slowly walking away, glancing at Alex who is reenergising himself in his own special way, you head towards your loyal dog.

Kneeling down and giving Alex the dog a small cube of liver you whisper to him, "You're doing great pup, you still might be needed."

He doesn't understand, of course he doesn't, but he gladly takes the liver cube.

You could ignore it, but the butcher's words echo in your mind as you stand up. Chinnery could cost you the pup, he could possible cost you more than that.

Is that really a chance you're willing to take?

A strong grip on your shoulder stops your thinking though as you glance up at Alex, the original.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." You nod and watch as he doesn't look convinced.

"I..." You start as he raises a brow, he already can see through you, "I'm heading to town, need supplies for the 'after'. You okay to take care of the vet?"

"Sure."

"Alex." You call as he goes to turn, "Don't torture him."

Alex doesn't respond, giving you the answer you need as you sigh and sneak one last look at Chinnery before he is seemingly tortured by your friend for no purpose other than entertainment. .

No one will know why you went to town, you made sure of that, and no one will know what you did.

Heavy is the head that bares the crown, but heavy is the soul that holds secrets.

....You're not making any sense. You know this. Perhaps this is the reason why you strived so hard to cure the local vet. He seems the most normal person in this silly little village. If you remove his curse, he'll be similar to you when you originally came here. Maybe you were just looking for someone like you, to help you hold on.

.

You return to Alex laughing with Chinnery, a drink in both their hands.

"He is surprisingly fit." Alex comments as you sidle up to him, taking a sip of his drink.

"Well what did you expect, he cycles everywhere."

Alex stares down at you.

The day has carried on, not caring that you still have 'tests' to perform, and so Alex's face, stern and serious, is shaded by the drop in light.

"You did not tell me that."

If you knew any better you'd think you saw a spark of warmth in Alex's eyes at the information. A kindred spirit.

Swiftly the spark is gone as Alex downs his drink and nods to himself. You briefly wonder what his rush is until you see his eyes fixed on your dog.

"Is it really time?" You can't help but ask. You know, logically, you must perform the final test now or the sun will get too low to do it today, but you had hoped this moment would never come.

You keep it a secret from the poor vet, who is still casually sipping his drink, but you still have doubts he is cured.

"It is now or never. I think you will be okay with now rather than never."

So you steel yourself to participate in the last act in the curing of Matthew Chinnery.

.....

"What are they doing?" Chinnery asks as they watch you walk away from them.

Alex doesn't answer. You both have faith the vet will figure it out.

"You could be cured." Alex states to the vet, a small smile on his face as he looks down at him.

Chinnery doesn't want to get his hopes up but he can't help but smile back at the idea.

The sky seems clearer now.

"Okay, final test." You announce, carrying the dog Alex towards the pair.

Matthew steps back as you approach, eyes wide and focused on the small dog.

"Are you...sure?" He says.

He doesn't ask, it's not a question, he's far too scared for it to be a question as he watches the man Alex is named after ruffle the dog's head and prays the animal doesn't approach and suffer a terrible fatal fate.

He can't do this. He can't take the risk. He can't be responsible for another death.

"Matthew?" You call as you finally notice him backing away, eyes fixed on the dog.

"Go reassure him he's cured." Alex instructs with a flick of his head to you as he takes a hold of the dog Alex.

You nod before carefully stepping towards Chinnery.

"It's okay Chinnery, you're cured."

"But...how do you know that?" He asks as he steps back again.

Alex the dog barks at him.

"Matthew."

You hands are up, you approach him, ironically, like a spooked animal.

"I..I..I can't."

"Matthew."

"Not again...not again."

"Please."

"Never again. Never. Please don't make me go through this again."

Finally you reach him, quickly grabbing on to his coat before dragging him against you.

"What if I fail?" He starts, voice trembling as his face is hidden in your shoulder.

"What if you are cured?" You argue back as he sobs.

The situation mirrors the first night he spent with you. Just like then, you stay silent and give him time.

It is only human to fear the unknown but you intend to turn his fear into certainty as you pull away.

"You can do this. Surviving with this curse wasn't easy but you did it. Now, Matthew, it is time to live without the curse."

He can't help but stand still for a minute, his eyes finding the dog as his mind focuses. You understand.

He doesn't speak, for fear of the words giving him time to change his mind as he approaches both Alex's slowly and carefully.

He slows as he gets closer but he does not stop, he can not stop now he has come so far.

And eventually he reaches the dog.

He touches it and smooths its fur. He smiles and waits.

He waits for ten minutes before it becomes fifteen. Until eventually death doesn't come and Alex the dog is thoroughly confused.

With a smile so wide and a heart so light, you could forgive Chinnery for taking a flight of fancy for a moment as he realises what this means for him.

And all because of you.

That's the only way you can explain reasonably why the second it click in the vet's head that he's officially and unequivocally cured, he rushes to you and kisses you.

It's quick and stupid and oh so bright.

The sun couldn't outshine Matthew Chinnery that day.

[dcoolettes]

I posted 2,701 times in 2022

That's 2,383 more posts than 2021!

33 posts created (1%)

2,668 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@joey-wheeler-official

@crtter

@chaoticportalfan

@twisteddelusion

I tagged 231 of my posts in 2022

#ask to tag - 16 posts

#tis my ramblings - 15 posts

#ensemble stars - 4 posts

#enstars - 4 posts

#me - 4 posts

#dragonlance - 3 posts

#supernatural - 3 posts

#what - 2 posts

#holy shit ohhhhhhh my god oh my god - 2 posts

#hiiro amagi - 2 posts

Longest Tag: 92 characters

#jesus christ please let your kids go to the park. play in the backyard. throw plastic blocks

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ohhhhh my god I’m genuinely so sick of people saying “the eng translations are so bad!!!!!” Yes theres issues but you can still. Fucking read the unofficial translations. The games more accessible now and Thats a win since not everyone can download Qooapp or whatever it’s called or change their Apple ID! You can. Still enjoy the game.

Bonus I fucking love the jokes and updated shit this is great. #Hornton for the win it’s so stupid

9 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

#4

13 notes - Posted January 5, 2022

#3

those screenshots were fake you can check Misha's twitter for proof

Anon this is by far the best message I’ve gotten in my inbox. Thank you.

So looking on Twitter it just seems that someone donated an NFT in his name instead of like, him creating them himself. It’s out of his control, but also oh my god.

AGAIN I APOLOGIZE FOR SPREADING MISINFORMATION IT WAS LIKE MIDNIGHT AND I DIDNT BOTHER TO CHECK. LMAO.

15 notes - Posted August 5, 2022

#2

hi!!!! i've almost never talked to someone on tumblr but i saw your raistlin post and i think its cool because im in the dragonlance fandom and i've never seen anyone else in it

Hello Anon!! I’ve legit been into dragonlance since ~2019 I just haven’t posted actively in a hot minute. Once the new module drops I will be so annoying.

21 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Love these guys so much. Turrets always make me smile I will love these guys eternally.

103 notes - Posted February 17, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lotusthewriter]

Ultraviolet (baby, light my way)

Fandom: The Owl House

Rating: G

Relationships: Romantic Luz/Hunter

Characters: Luz Noceda, Hunter

Summary: “Will you promise not to laugh?”

Word count: 1.167

AO3 / Fanfiction

A/N: Yeah, this is based on the season 3 poster. At first I admit I hated Hunter’s new haircut, but it eventually grew on me because 1) the fanarts made it look good and 2) it looks a lot like Luz’s debut haircut, so I had Lunter feelings.

Hate comments will be deleted and blocked.

--

Ugh, her head hurts.

Ever since her abrupt return to her home, Luz hasn’t been getting the best sleep. She’ll go to the bathroom and find dark bags under her brown eyes, something she never thought she would struggle with. Though it makes sense since Luz has been trying everything to find a way back to the Boiling Isles nonstop. It’s been months by now.

Today is a different day. Her mother and her friends united to help Luz sleep better, and so they let her stay home for the day while they handle the groceries and other duties. Luz took quite a while to fall asleep, so she wakes up late in the morning – roughly 11 AM –, with a headache bothering her rest. Luz would have to take a painkiller, and that’s what takes her outside of the room, the light albeit too much for her senses. Eventually, she makes her way to the bathroom door, trying to open it… only it’s locked?

She also hears a little gasp coming from inside.

“Hello? Who’s there?” Luz wonders. Wasn’t she supposed to be alone for the day?

“Um… j-just a second!”

“… Hunter?”

She hears quite a few noises, like something has fallen.

“Is everything okay?” Luz asks.

“Y-Yeah, just give me a minute!”

Huh, weird. She wants to go inside and see what’s happening, but she doesn’t want to knock the door down to scare the boy. The shuffling eventually comes to an end, but Hunter makes… a request:

“Will you promise not to laugh?”

Luz raises an eyebrow, but she gives in.

“I promise.” Why does he sound so nervous?

There’s a beat, then the door opens slowly. Luz doesn’t know what she’s expecting…

… especially not a haircut.

“It’s bad, isn’t it,” Hunter blushes, his hands hiding his short blond hair.

“N- No, it’s not bad. I just… wasn’t expecting that?”

Hunter seems guilty and ashamed, and so small and vulnerable that Luz almost wants to wrap him in a blanket and give him hot chocolate.

“I… I couldn’t stand looking at the mirror and… seeing him,” he explains.

At that, Luz isn’t surprised. They were together when Hunter saw the statue of the Wittebane brothers, the older one his spitting image. Hunter was found staring at the man made of stone with a horrified look on his face. He’s been… more tense and distant since. Everyone tried their best to comfort him, but none of them knew the truth behind him, his origins, his nature. Only Luz knew.

Clearly, she could never blame him for feeling that way.

“It looks good,” Luz reassures him. Only she spends a little while analyzing it and comes to a conclusion. “Wait… did you cut it like my hair?”

Hunter’s cheeks redden even more than what it’s possible.

“Oh my god,” Luz smirks.

He hides his face. “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“I’m not laughing.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Okay, maybe,” she giggles. “It’s cute, though.”

Hunter pouts at her, and Luz almost wants to squish his face. You’re cute, she wants to say.

The migraine reminds her why she’s here in the first place, so she goes inside and takes the painkillers from the cabinet, while there are hair strands everywhere in the sink and the floor.

“Are you okay?” Hunter wonders.

“I just have a little headache,” Luz tells him, “I didn’t sleep very well last night.”

“Hm.”

He’s probably the best person there is to know about sleep deprivation.

“I thought you were going to join the others?” Luz questions him.

“Yeah, well…” Hunter is blushing again. “I thought I could make you some company.”

Luz feels something fuzzy and warm in her heart, that she hasn’t felt in a while.

“… you really do like me,” she jokes to deflect it. “How embarrassing.”

Hunter glares at her, but then he’s looking serious.

“Well, what if I do like you?” He asks. “What if you make me feel okay, and I want to help you feel okay, too?”

Luz is taken aback, not expecting the questions, the certainty in his words. She is probably the one blushing right now, unsure how to react. Hunter has been more vulnerable in general, yes, but they haven’t been alone together, open, honest in quite some time.

Hunter is… approaching her, slowly. They’re close enough to see the little details of their faces, their eyebags, the depth of their eyes, their very souls. Human. Grimwalker. Magicless.

“Would that be so bad, me liking you?” Hunter wonders.

Luz gapes, soon shaking her head.

“No.”

She doesn’t know what he’s going to do next, but she’s not scared. She doesn’t reject his closeness.

Suddenly… he’s wrapping his arms around her. He’s the one initiating the contact. Luz has never hugged him, mainly because she thought she should respect his space. After all, he seems to be on better terms with Gus and Willow, who openly hug Hunter and show him affection.

Luz really likes hugs, she is like a sponge absorbing her friends’ energy, their love. She realizes she needs it the most right now, with this one simple hug. She sinks her head in his shoulder, her migraine silenced for the moment.

Hunter is going to keep holding her forever, and as much as she wants him to, she knows she can’t have everything.

Luz pulls away, patting him on the back.

“… we should probably clean the bathroom before my mom gets back.”

“I’ll clean it.”

“I can help.”

“No, you’re sick. You need rest.”

Luz scoffs, “I’m not sick—”

“You have a headache, therefore, sick.”

“That’s a pretty simplistic conception of sick.”

“Luz, I know what I’m talking about. If you don’t get rest, it’s going to get worse.”

She figures she must end the stubborn competition, so the girl complies.

“Alright, fine. But I’m not staying in bed,” Luz argues.

“Okay, then you stay at the couch.”

“Fine.”

Hunter goes to her room to get something, and it turns out it’s her blanket and her pillow. Once they head downstairs, Luz is pretty much tucked in. The curtains are protecting her from the bright sun outside.

“Will you be quick?” Luz asks, then feeling guilty at how needy she probably sounds.

Hunter doesn’t mind. If anything, he smiles at her.

“Yeah, sure.” He hands her one of her stuffed animals, a little rabbit. “Until then, here’s a little friend to keep you safe.”

“Gee, thanks.”

They’re gazing at one another for quite some time, Luz getting used to his new haircut. He looks more like himself now.

“Be right back,” Hunter says, and Luz really thinks that’s it, but then…

He plants a kiss on her forehead.

Apparently, improvised. Because Hunter immediately freezes and he’s basically a tomato again.

“Um… yeah, I’ll…” the magenta-eyed boy covers his face and walks away a little fast, but he doesn’t run off.

Luz still feels the warmth left by his lips.

She buries her face in her pillow and screams.

In the good way.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 322: IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all, “Kirishima please take Hagakure and Aoyama and put them away somewhere out of sight until we’re finally ready for the U.A. Traitor Plot.” Shouto was all “HEY DEKU DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU WANDERING THE STREETS LOOKING LIKE A GOTH PRAYING MANTIS IS EXACTLY WHAT AFO WANTS.” Deku was all “I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CRUSHING MARTYR COMPLEX AND ACCUMULATED TRAUMA.” Mineta was all “HEY DEKU YOU SWEET THANG, IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT ‘U’ AND ‘I’ TOGETHER, ANYWAYS HMU 💖”, or at least that’s what fandom apparently thought he said. Everyone was all “WELL SINCE WE’RE BACK HERE IN KAMINO WE SHOULD DO THE THING” and did the whole “launching someone into the air to save someone by dramatically grabbing their hand” thing that everybody fucking loves to do in Kamino so damn much. Iida was all “[bombards me and Deku with feels].” Deku was all, “ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू).” I was all, “(;*△*;).” Horikoshi was all, “my work here is done.”

Today on BnHA: 

oh my god.

so I finally went back to look at what I wrote up for 321 last week, and it’s a hot fucking mess lol, and I really don’t want to deal with that right now, so we’re just gonna skip it and go back sometime in the next few days or something because I really want to read the new chapter and I have no self control. I’M SORRY IIDA

oh my god he’s breaking out the narration word bubbles oh my god. shit is about to get epic isn’t it

has there ever been a chapter that opened with these that WASN’T epic? serious question. anyways all aboard the Feels Express I guess

YEP

I saved a bunch of other crying kaomojis when I was looking for ones to use in the “previously on” summary, and right now it’s looking like that was a good fucking decision you guys. if I’m going to be an emotional wreck I might as well do it in style ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

AND BY THE WAY!!

SHOULD I JUST THANK HORIKOSHI NOW AND SAVE MYSELF SOME TIME LATER. THE MAN ALWAYS FUCKING DELIVERS WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING SAY GODDAMN. IS IT TOO EARLY TO DECLARE THIS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER? I SHOULD PROBABLY READ FURTHER THAN ONE PAGE BUT I’VE JUST GOT A FEELING

(ETA: it’s like. maybe my second favorite lol. A HUG WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN FIRST, I’M JUST SAYING.)

anyway so Ochako is releasing Iida, which is actually hilarious, because idk if you all know this but Iida can’t fucking fly you guys

like, I assume Ochako released him because she already knew that Kirishima was in place to catch him, but I really love this split-second of panic on Iida’s part where he’s all “HMM, IS OCHAKO TRYING TO KILL ME, ACTUALLY”

LOL THERE’S A THOOM AND EVERYTHING

that’s some plus fucking ultra on Ochako’s part right there. “IF THEY DIE THEY DIE” goddamn girl did you leave your chill in the same locker as Momo or what

now poor Kiri is all “DAMMIT DEKU ARE YOU PASSED OUT OR WHAT, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU MY THING GODDAMMIT”

oh my gosh he is curled up so small you guys oh my fucking lord

RESIDUAL “LOST CHILD” FEELS FROM LAST WEEK COMING IN FOR A LANDING!! PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR SEATBACKS AND TRAY TABLES ARE IN THEIR UPRIGHT POSITIONS OMG ( ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ ₍₎ ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ )

LMAO IIDA IS TRYING TO CONFIRM THAT OCHAKO PLANNED FOR KIRISHIMA TO CATCH HIM, AND KIRISHIMA IS ALL “NOPE I’M JUST HERE BY CHANCE BRO”

Ochako is the U.A. Traitor confirmed. Hagakure I am so sorry I doubted you. Ochako get over here. so are you Toga now or what

anyway so now everyone is running over before Iida can react to this casual announcement of his attempted murder. and now Mina is taking her turn, and Horikoshi is all “HEY BTW IS MINA CRYING ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY?” and of fucking course it is, you bastard. I’m not made of stone

( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SLDKFJLSDKJ:LKWEJ

IS THIS THE PART WHERE I JUST START SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY FOR THE REST OF THE CHAPTER LOL. SURE FEELS LIKE WE ARE GETTING TO THAT TIME

OH MY GOD KACCHAN AHHHHH

I CAN’T OMG LOL I ALREADY GLANCED AT THE NEXT COUPLE OF PANELS, AND HE’S STARTING A WHOLEASS MONOLOGUE ABOUT ALL OF HIS DEKU FEELS AND OH MY GOD

“HERE YOU GO MAKESTE, A WHOLE CHAPTER OF ALL YOUR FAVORITE META TOPICS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM” THANK YOU HORIKOSHI YOU’RE A BRO (っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ

SLKASODIFALWKFLKJ

THEY’RE JUST DEKU AND KACCHAN. holy shit you guys. because oh my god, but it’s like when Deku was talking to the Vestiges about saving Tomura, and he turned into his little child self because his heart and intentions were so pure?? and it’s like that again, except that we’re seeing them as their child selves because that’s who they are to each other?? like, not that they actually see each other as children, but just, they can see past all of the stuff on the outside and see each other to their cores, to who they are inside, and when they look at each other they each simply see the other boy that they’ve known their whole entire life. idk?? does that make sense??? DOES ANY OF THIS EVEN MAKE SENSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORDS ARE ANYMORE I’M JUST SWIMMING IN FEELS OKAY. I’M TRYING HERE

they’re just boys, is what I’m trying to say, I guess. just Deku and Kacchan. all the walls are down, all the gaps are bridged, and all it is is the one boy reaching out and connecting with the other, and just,,, (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

OH MY GOD [GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS AND POINTING WORDLESSLY] !!!1LK1

DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS YOU GUYS

HOW PERFECTLY FUCKING RAD. WELL LET ME JUST ENJOY THESE LAST FEW SECONDS BEFORE MY LIFE IS FOREVER CHANGED, I GUESS

OH

MY

GOD

CAN HE EVEN SAY THAT??? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? IS HE EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO SAY THAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

─=≡Σ((( つ ◕o◕ )つ

GET IN HERE, EVERYONE!!

Y’ALL HE REALLY DID IT. “BAKUGOU IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE HE HASN’T EVEN APOLOGIZED” WELL GUESS FUCKING WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT, YOU GUYS!! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO ((((／￣∇￣)／＼(￣∇￣＼)))) AHHHHHHHHHH

OHHHHHHHH

HEH. I’M ALREADY DEAD, HORIKOSHI, YOU BASTARD. DO YOUR WORST. GO ON

YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON “US”, HE SAYS. ALONG WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF OMG. KACCHAN, YOU STUDIED!! YOU UNDERSTAND!! PREACH!!

OH NO!!

OH WAIT!!!!

LOL I GOT SCARED THERE FOR A SECOND BUT ANYWAY! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!!! GROUP HUG!!! OR WAIT, NO, WHAT ABOUT -- [GRABS YOUR COLLAR URGENTLY] YOU DON’T THINK -- COULD THEY POSSIBLY -- !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ARE YOU GONNA HUG!??!?!?!?! I AM NOT OKAY!!!!!!! !!!hgk

REACTION PANELS LOL EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS TOO WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

LOL OCHAKO

I KNOW THAT IN REALITY THIS FACE IS JUST BECAUSE SHE’S CONCERNED ABOUT DEKU’S FRAGILE STATE RN, BUT I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED IIDA COLD THOUGH, AND I CAN’T HELP BUT FEAR FOR KACCHAN’S SAFETY LMAO. THAT FEELING WHEN THE CLASS PERV AND THE CLASS BULLY BOTH BEAT YOU TO THE LOVE CONFESSION. KACCHAN WATCH YOUR SIX

OKAY BUT LOOK, IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS, OKAY, BUT CAN WE PLEASE!??!?! HELLO?!?!? MOMO, JUST -- COULD YOU JUST FOR A MINUTE --

NOOOOOOOOOOO

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I HAVE TO SAVE SOMETHING FOR THE FINALE” HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, I’M COMING FOR YOU WITH A TWO BY FOUR!! NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL!! BUT JESUS CHRIST, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT, AND THEN ALMOST DO THAT, AND THEN NOT!! OMG I HATE YOU

sure let’s cut to Thirteen then, yay. I mean I’m glad they’re alive lol, don’t get me wrong

(ETA: I think that might have sounded a bit sarcastic so I just want to clarify that I really am happy Thirteen is alive and on the job again lol.)

it’s just that if your name doesn’t begin with Baku or Deku I honestly am not interested for just these next five minutes okay lol. like I’m just gonna be completely honest. I am too invested lol, please, they were having a moment, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE

OH DAMN U.A. GOT SWOLE AF

THIS SCHOOL HAS BEEN JUICING WTF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE TARTARUS LOL

I’m literally not even reading the speech bubbles though omg I’m so sorry. I really hope there is not a quiz, I promise I will come back to it later scroll scroll scroll

okay so they brought him back to U.A. and he’s all tired and out of it yes

oh goody Hagakure knows all about the security system

(ETA: is it just me or is Horikoshi really laying it on thick with the hints about these two guys lately? I’m on to you sir.)

THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD THIS CRITICAL KNOWLEDGE IS SAFE IN THE HANDS OF THE PEOPLE THAT WE TRUST

ffs Deku

WHAT WILL IT EVEN TAKE TO CONVINCE YOU THEN?? SWEET JESUS

-- holy shit, what??!

they know?? how did they find out??! holy shit???

I’m about to cancel the whole of Japan lmao. fucking try me dudes

-- THE PRINCIPAL!?

NEZU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK

“a ticking time bomb” tell you what, this man is just asking to be punched in the face. literally begging for it omg

(ETA: I have been advised that I misread this part; Rat Principal told everyone how safe U.A. was, but he’s not the one who ratted out Deku; that was “the rumors”, apparently. which, if I had to guess, were probably started by AFO.)

oh I see, so it’s to be Feels, Part II then

he looks so sad and tired and lonely and she goes right for the hand, god bless. though if Kacchan’s not gonna hug him, you’d think someone would at least. or is it because he still smells bad. hmm

AND THE CHAPTER’S ENDING ON HER LOL WELL OKAY THEN

I MEAN IT’S GREAT AND ALL, I LOVE OCHAKO REALLY I DO, BUT WE WERE PROMISED GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GODS, WHAT GIVES SOB. I WAS ALL READY TO BREAK OUT INTO SONG AND EVERYTHING. SURE, HE DID THE APOLOGY, BUT WHERE IS THE FOLLOW-UP GODDAMMIT

(ETA: just to clarify the reason for my rambling here, I was really waiting for the hero name reveal and the presumed deeper meaning behind it lol. but I guess that is a conversation still to come! and we still need Deku’s response to the apology too for that matter. lots to look forward to still.)

WELL WHATEVER, SO THAT IS THE END OF THE CHAPTER! SHOUT OUT TO MY BOY RAT “LET ME JUST TELL EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD ABOUT DEKU’S SUPER SECRET IDENTITY, I GUESS THAT’S ALL RIGHT NOW, NOTHING BAD COULD POSSIBLY COME OF THIS” PRINCIPAL. listen here you little shit

anyway but if you’ll excuse me... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME. IF I COULD FIND A WAY. I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, AND YOU’D STAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THE THINGS I DID. I DON’T KNOW WHY I SAID THE THINGS I SAID. PRIDE’S LIKE A KNIFE, IT CAN CUT DEEP INSIDE. WORDS ARE LIKE WEAPONS, THEY WOUND SOMETIMES. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO HURT YOU. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T WANNA SEE YOU GO. I KNOW I MADE YOU CRY, BUT BABAY, IF I COULD TUUUUURN BACK TIIIIIIIIIIIME...

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Red Wine

Character/Fandom: Jerry Schilling - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes - @shelbysbitchh i hope you enjoy it boo!

Prompt: You're a production assistant for Paramount and are working on the set of an Elvis Presley Film. As an assistant, you have to take care of the shit no one else wants to, which includes dealing with Elvis' producer, Jerry Schilling. But maybe he's not so bad, after all.

TW: None!

Rating: Pg-13   ||     Word Count: 3060

A/N: okay jerry is so hot in this dude. this also definitely has inaccuracies because i have no clue how hollywood or the showbusiness industry works fhuwhfe

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You tap your foot as you wait for the phone to stop ringing and for this, you glance down at your notes, Jerry Schilling guy to pick up. You’re the production assistant on an upcoming film starring the one and only Elvis Presley. As an assistant, it’s your job to handle a lot of the stuff your co-workers and fellow directors and producers don’t want to do. Apparently one of those things is calling up Elvis’ producer, Mr. Schilling, to sort out some of the musical numbers and requirements. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the line clicks on.

“Hello?” answers a deep, raspy voice.

“Mr. Schilling? Hi, this is Y/N from Paramount Studios. I’m calling to discuss some of the musical numbers Mr. Presley might perform in his upcoming film, Blue Hawaii.”

“Oh, sure. He has a few ideas for some songs, but he requested to see the script several months ago and still has not actually received it.”

“Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Schilling. I’ll connect with my writers to see what we can do about that. In the meantime, could you just give me a general idea of the songs he’s thinking about?”

“Well, I guess. Although, this would be a lot easier to discuss in person,” he responds with a sigh.

“I understand that Mr. Schilling, but-”

“Jerry, please. I’m not concerned with formalities.”

“Jerry, then, I understand your concerns and frustrations but I’m afraid that we do things very specifically around here at Paramount. It’s not really appropriate for me to set up an in-perspn meeting, especially considering that I’m just the production assistant.”

Your eyebrows raise as you hear him laugh on the other side of the line.

“Is something funny?”

“I’ve just never met a production assistant who’s such a stickler for the rules,” he responds and you squint your eyes in annoyance. “I’d really prefer to meet in person to discuss this sort of thing, especially if it's going to involve so many regulations.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face.

“Alright, Mr. Schilling, are you available tomorrow at 10 a.m.? We could meet at Paul’s Coffehouse and come to some kind of conclusion then.”

“Tomorrow? Why not this evening? I know a nice Italian place with a great atmosphere. Say eight o’clock?”

You run a tongue over your teeth and roll your eyes.

“I’m afraid not Mr. Schilling. That’s after work hours, and-”

“Gimme a break. I’m offering you a free meal and nothing unprofessional is going to happen at this meeting. I'd like to meet sooner rather than later since Mr. Presley would really like to get this sorted ASAP. Plus, why shouldn’t we at least have some fun and good food while we're at it?"

You're silent for a minute, considering his offer. It’s totally and completely unprofessional and you should decline immediately. But something stops you from doing so. You aren’t sure why, but your brain has been dancing in circles to try and construct an image of what this man might look like. His voice paints a very specific picture in your mind and you're curious to see if your imagined version of him matches up with the real thing. Plus, a free Italian dinner is never a bad thing and you really would like to get this headache settled as quickly and quietly as possible.

“Alright, fine. Eight p.m. Sharp. Where is the restaurant?”

He gives you the name, and you recognize it immediately as a nice five-star restaurant. Now, you’re sort of glad you said yes considering that you’re getting a free five-star meal out of this meeting.

“I’ll make a reservation. See you tonight.”

Before you even have a chance to say anything in response, he’s hung up. You grip the phone and huff out a frustrated breath before hanging up yourself. The most unfortunate part of your job was having to deal with so many pig-headed, irritating, stuck-up men. As far as you can tell, Elvis and his producer are just two of the same. Unfortunately, the rest of the day finds you extremely busy as you rush around to check things off of your list.

By the time the clock hits five p.m., you’re so exhausted that the thought of getting all dressed up to go out again makes your head ache. You give yourself an hour to relax after getting home, watching some tv while you snack. Then, you sigh and hop up to get changed and do something with your hair before you have to leave to meet Jerry Schilling. You start to feel more anxious the closer it grows to eight.

What are you doing, going out to dinner at night with a man you’ve only spoken to once on the phone? You don't even know him, for God’s sake! Not to mention, the pure unprofessionalism that you’re displaying by even considering the idea in the first place.

You stare at yourself in the mirror with wide eyes and heave a deep breath.

No, as far as your boss and everyone else on set are concerned, you and Mr. Schilling met for coffee at 10 a.m. That was it.

As you’re putting the finishing touches on your outfit, your phone begins to ring. You dash into the kitchen and lift it from the receiver.

“Hello?”

“It’s Jerry. I’ll be there to pick you up in five minutes.”

“I thought we were meeting there. Wait, how…how did you get my address?” you ask, now feeling like maybe you shouldn't go to dinner after all.

“Relax,” he replies with a chuckle. “I asked the secretary.”

Relief floods through you. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re kind of excited. It’s been a long time since you’ve been on a date. Not that this is a date, of course. Just that it sort of feels like one. And with the way your love life has been going in recent years, that’s good enough for you.

“Oh, uh...well I’m ready so I’ll just wait on the front porch. See you soon.”

And this time it’s you who hangs up before he can respond. As petty as it is, you enjoy feeling like you’ve gotten him back. Like you’ve won this round of your game. After glancing into the mirror one more time, you grab your bag, shrug your coat on, and head out the door. Jerry had been right on the phone; you only wait about a minute or so before a long black Cadillac pulls up to the drive. You descend the stairs on the porch and click open the passenger door.

You glance over at Jerry and your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. He doesn’t look anything like you’d thought. He's a little older than you’d imagined, with lines around his mouth and by his bright, shining blue eyes. His sandy hair is very stylish, worn long and wavy. It compliments him. The way it curves down his face draws your attention to his angular jawline and handsomely shaped lips. You haven’t even realized you’ve been staring, sizing him up, until that familiar voice breaks through your thoughts.

“Uh, hello?”

“Hi, sorry,” you blurt out in response as Jerry waves his hand in front of your face. “You’re just…not what I was expecting.”

You chuckle nervously, shutting your door and turning to face the front windshield. You hope to God that you can just move on without having to explain what the hell just happened to you.

“Yeah, you’re not…what I was expecting either,” he replies and pulls the car into the street.

“What do you mean by that?" you ask, your hands starting to sweat.

“Just that you’re…well, sexier than I thought you’d be,” he responds with a shrug and you feel heat creeping into your face.

“Mr. Schilling, you guaranteed me that this was a professional meeting only and that it would be remain so throughout the evening. If you are going to continue to flirt with me, then I suggest you turn the car around immediately.”

“Hey, you said it first. And if this meeting is so professional, why’d you wear that red lipstick?” he shoots back.

When you open your mouth to defend yourself, nothing comes out. You glance down at your outfit, feeling embarrassed and ashamed that you'd spent so much time putting your outfit together. You cross your arms over your chest as Jerry pulls into the parking lot of the restaurant. He turns the car off and comes around to your side. You frantically try to pop the door open on your own, but Jerry snags the handle from the outside before you can. You huff and climb out, neglecting to take his outstretched hand.

“I am perfectly capable of exiting a car, Mr. Schilling. But thank you.”

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jerry?” he asks as you walk into the building.

“As many times as it takes, Mr. Schilling.”

“Challenge accepted.”

You toss a quick smirk at him as the hostess confirms your reservation and leads you to a secluded booth in a dimly lit part of the restaurant. You sigh as you slide into the booth across from Jerry. You take the menu, immediately flipping it up to hide your face. You already want this meeting to be over. Perhaps in another life, you might be interested in Jerry as a potential romantic partner but you’re quickly realizing that he’s just like every other horny, sexist man that you’ve worked with. Show business is full of them.

The waiter returns to take your orders and, although you simply order water and some pasta, Jerry insists on wine for the two of you. You swear not to touch yours. While everything you're doing feels unprofessional, drinking alcohol on the job is a step too far and one that you can't see yourself justifying.

“Now that we’re all taken care of, let’s get down to business,” you start, pulling a notepad and a pen out from your bag.

“Elvis wants to do seven original numbers. We’ve already got one written up that I think will be particularly great.”

“Mr. Schilling, I’m afraid we have fourteen numbers slotted for the film. He’ll need to select an additional seven or the production company will assign them.”

“Fourteen? The film is not even two hours long, and they expect him to perform fourteen songs? That means most of the movie will be Elvis singing as opposed to acting. I don’t think he’ll like that at all. Can’t you adjust the number somehow? You know, lower it?”

You shrug as the waiter returns with your drinks and the wine.

“I’m not sure what to tell you, Mr. Schilling. I have no say on that sort of thing. I’m just the assistant. I run coffee and fix problems. That’s my job.”

“I’m sure you do a lot more than that, Y/N,” Jerry responds, pouring wine into your glass. You watch as the liquid flows freely although you don’t plan on touching it with a ten-foot pole.

“Hardly, but my role at the company isn’t the point of this meeting. I-”

“You mean you have no say in the actual writing or producing of the movie? I thought that’s what production assistants did.”

“In theory, yes, but in reality, assistants are there to help around set with anything that needs to be done. I mean, what do you do? It can’t be that different.”

“I suppose solving problems is a part of the description, yes. But I certainly do more than refill coffee machines and copiers. How come you don’t do more? What is it that you wanna do anyway?”

“Well, I always wanted to edit film. I’m fascinated by the production side of things, of course, but the post-production is where I’d like to be someday. I was told that the fastest way to get there was to start here, so that’s where I am.”

“Really?” he leans forward, placing his elbows on the table. “You know I’m pretty interested in film editing myself.”

“But you’re a music producer?”

“I can’t have hobbies? I’ve considered quitting managing for a while, actually, and trying my hand at it.”

“Why don’t you?”

“Ehhh,” he waves a hand dismissively. “Elvis needs me. I couldn’t abandon him like that.”

You nod, biting the bullet and reaching for your glass of wine. You bring it to your lips and taste the sweet alcohol as it flows over your tongue. It’s excellent wine, probably very expensive.

“Anyway, back to this,” you continue with a shake of your head. “I’ll see what I can do, but I can’t make any guarantees that the production will budge on this. Like I told you earlier, they’re very strict about these sorts of issues.”

“Trying is more than anyone else has done. I’d appreciate it. Did you want to hear more about the song that I mentioned earlier? The original?”

“Yes, I think that would be helpful, Mr. Schilling.”

“For the love of God, please call me Jerry, darling.”

Your head snaps up at the pet name and you just nod slowly.

“No one from the office has to know. I think we’re close enough now for first names, at least. And if we’re not, I’d like to know how we could be.”

You suddenly feel your heart slamming into your chest. Flustered and taken aback by his forwardness, you stutter and nod.

“No, no you’re right. It’s perfectly acceptable, Jerry.”

“That’s a good girl,” he replies, a handsome smile curling across his lips. “I have the lyrics here.”

He pulls out a piece of paper and slides it onto the table. When you reach out to take it, your fingers brush against each other. You glance up at Jerry to see him already gazing over the table at you. You nervously chuckle and take the paper. You can feel Jerry’s eyes on you as you read over the words.

“Beautiful song. I love it. I think it’s perfect. He must have been thinking of a very special woman when he wrote it.”

“It’s not hard to imagine how he must have felt,” Jerry says.

Your breath hitches in your throat and you look up to meet Jerry’s eyes. They’re sparkling under the soft light of the restaurant and you feel your body moving forward unintentionally. Your eyes flick down to his lips, tracing over the gentle Cupid’s bow. You feel his warm hand slide over your fingers, propping them up and sliding through each one to hold onto them. As your fingers curl over his knuckles, you gulp.

“Will that be one check or two?” The waiter’s voice beaks through your thoughts and you quickly untangle your fingers.

“Just one,” Jerry answers.

You avoid eye contact with him for the rest of the meal until he's paid and you're walking out the door. He helps you put your coat back on, and you don’t miss the fact that he lets his fingers tickle the skin of your shoulders as he pulls the fabric over your body.

You climb into the car and ride in silence as he drives you back to your house. When he slows to a stop, you turn to thank him but stop short when his door slams in your face. To your surprise, your own passenger door opens, and Jerry holds his hand out for you again. This time, you accept it. He walks with you up your walkway.

“You know you don’t have to escort me. It’s like five feet from the car. I think I’ll be safe.”

“I’m not doing it cause I feel obligated. I’m doing it because I want to.”

You smile, biting your tongue excitedly. The butterflies in your stomach are doing triple flips, a feeling you haven’t experienced in a long time. When you reach the top of the porch, you turn to face him.

“Um, thanks for dinner,” you say. “I had a really good time, actually.”

“Yeah, no problem. I, uh, had a good time myself.”

You nervously pull at the straps of your bag as you avert his eyes. An awkward silence settles between you and you gnaw at the inside of your cheek. Jerry clears his throat. You glance up at him, your eyes finally connecting for a moment. He leans forward, resting his arm beside your head and tilting his head, impossibly close to you. You place a hand on his chest to push him back.

“Jerry…we can’t. It’s not appropriate.”

“Who said I wanted to be appropriate?”

He reaches down, sliding a finger under your chin and tilting your face up to his. You know you should fight him harder, but could you really get in trouble if he’s the one who kisses you? I mean, to be fair you didn’t do anything…

He runs his thumb over your lips and then closes the gap to press his lips to yours. You kiss him back, your eyes closing immediately. He pulls away for only a second before leaning back in to kiss you again. Your hand drifts up to wind around his neck while the other pulls at the lapel of his jacket. He draws closer to you, walking you back until your back hits the wood of the front door. His body presses into you, nestling you against the doorframe. His body is warm and taut on yours. When he bites down on your bottom lip, you moan softly and tangle your fingers into his hair.

Just as his hand begins to slide down your thigh, a car horn beeps as it passes in the street. You both jump, separating with breathless chuckles. You reach up to fix your hair while he readjusts his clothes. You wait for him to speak.

“Yeah,” he says with a smile and you giggle. “Well, I think we got some real good business done today. I’ll um…”

His eyes trace up and down your figure and he bites his lip.

“I’ll look forward to doing business with you again.”

You laugh and wave as you disappear behind the door to your house. You lean over to peer out of the windows and see Jerry fist pumping into the air. You giggle, thankful that you decided to break the rules just this once.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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[bimney424]

365 days ago. 525,600 minutes (yes a RENT reference) in the past. It seems like so far away, yet for many in the Critical Role fandom it was just around the corner. On this amazing day, this time last year, Beau and Yasha had their amazingly wonderful date in the tower. This was the post I wrote the next day.

“That’s why you’re my favorite.”

“Who, me?”

There was no way I was not going to write about THE DATE!!!!!! I mean, hello gay person writing here. BUT. I do want to mention two things before I get into it. First, Veth & that damn flower & her convo with Beau. It was cute & was all the right things for her to say. For Veth being a dick early on after the asking of said date, that made up for it. It has been a hot minute since we have seen these two members of the Chaos Crew spend any significant time together. The way that Sam & Marisha are is almost magical. Not to mention the fact that the group tries really hard to not bust out laughing at certain times. Second, handing off the note to Caleb & their interaction. It hit me right away after the date started what Caleb was saying the “Why?” to. He is not a dog guy at all, but Yasha loves them & Beau wants to do whatever she can to make this date perfect. *** Watching this part as I am writing this, the look on Matt’s face says that he knows what’s on the list, but NO ONE else outside of Marisha & Liam do. Their reactions through this whole thing are so genuine & I love it*** There are a million things that Beau does not know about Yasha, but the few that she does, she tries to make sure that Caleb uses them. The flowers, dogs, certain foods, drinks, & even ninjas are all important to Beau in this moment. Caleb, for all of his quirks, will forgo his own uncomfortableness to make sure his “schwester“ gives her love the best first date ever. Now if he allows for dogs to be there after, that is another story.

THE DATE!!! There are not words in the English language that could possibly describe how shocked I was that this was happening. Like many others, thought it was going to be later on or maybe even next week, not then. Here it was though & it was all that was hoped for & more. Even though they were obviously nervous in the beginning, not just as Beau & Yasha, but as Marisha & Ashley, it made the entire experience watching that much better.

Starting over by starting over in a recreation of the place they met was the best way to begin this relationship between. It was perfect on so many levels. Even though they will both still have their doubts & insecurities, they have the chance to deal with these things together. After the nerves wear off they speak with each other with such reverence & clarity. Making sure to say just the right words for the feelings that they want to convey. It’s a conversation that in itself seems so natural & forthcoming. Watching it, you know that these two people trust each other not just in the characters they portray, but also in real life. Speaking about Molly & the things of the past flow without hiccup & it’s beautiful. When Yasha says that she fell in love with Beau when they were in Kamorda, Beau’s entire demeanor changes. She starts to breath a little more heavily, an indication that these are words that she has been wanting to hear & everything that Yasha says after that only affirms that those feelings are not fleeting or just infatuation. **** It has come up a few times when did Beau actually fall in love with Yasha. I feel it happened from the jump. But because Yasha kept leaving, it was not something that Beau wanted to hold on to. There are moments though that you can see how Beau feels. One of my favorite is her finding Yahsa chained up after the fight with Lorenzo. But after Obann, all bets were off on both sides. The flight at Rumblecusp proves that.*** Beau, finally telling Yasha that she loved her too & Yasha’s reaction was something that it beyond words. For both of them, having their own relationship issues, they finally find someone in each other that sees them for who they are, faults & all. Despite that, they love each other deeply & have for quiet some time. Again, it was something that was amazing to watch.

Ashley & Marisha are unbelievable people who have brought these two characters to life, bringing them to this point in their relationship where they can finally be free to be together. Watching them at the table, RPing the date showed just how special they are to each other as friends. It started when Ashley wrote a letter, not only from Yasha to Beau, but from Ashley to Marisha. That in itself speaks volumes on them both. The other thing is that, the group allowed them almost an entire hour for this date. Just the two of them. Giving them the resepct & support that they deserve to allow for this for their characters. If Jester & Fjord want to have a date, it won’t be a glorious as this one, but would be there for it as well. I love this show & these nerdy voice actors. And am very happy that the betrayal of this relationship is so pure & so genuine & so amazing.

[chicgeekgirl89]

The Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: T.K. Strand, Carlos Reyes, Nancy Gillian, Tommy Vega

Warnings: Vomiting

Summary: A day of work at a festival takes a sudden turn when a certain policeman succumbs to the heat of the day. It's a good thing his boyfriend is a paramedic. Written for the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt: Dehydration.

All the love in the world to @bluenet13​ who beta reads everything, comments on everything, and is just the actual best.

Read on AO3

“It feels like we’re standing directly on the surface of the sun,” T.K. griped as he reached for his thousandth water bottle of the day. “How has this entire state not melted off the face of the earth yet?”

“Yes because being buried in four feet of snow sounds infinitely better,” Nancy shot back as she handed a cooling towel to a teenager.

“It does right now,” T.K. told her. “I would pay a lot of money for a blizzard to roll in and dump snow and ice and mayhem on us all.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Tommy said, prepping a bag of saline for a middle aged man on the cot next to her.

“Cap, it’s Texas,” Nancy said. “When is it ever gonna snow in Texas?”

Tommy smiled enigmatically. “Just saying, you never know.”

They had volunteered to take a shift in the medical tent at the Austin Chronicle Hot Sauce Festival on what was turning out to be the hottest day of the summer yet. The thermometer read 110 degrees and even in the shade of their tent they were feeling the effects. They were handing out water and cooling towels and taking care of a steady stream of fallen event goers who were succumbing to the heat with everything from sunburn to heat stroke. 

“I think my shoes are melting to the asphalt,” T.K. said, picking up his feet to check.

“Ugh, Cap, seriously I’m going to strip off and go naked in a minute,” Nancy said, pulling at the collar of her sweaty t-shirt. 

“Drink some water,” Tommy advised, immune to their childlike shenanigans and whining. “The sun should start to drop in an hour and that’ll cool things down a bit.”

“By a bit do you mean like forty degrees? Because that’s about what it’s going to take to get anyone comfortable,” T.K. told her. 

“Hey,” Nancy caught his eye and nodded toward something outside the tent.

T.K. followed her gaze and his complaints about the heat vanishing as he spotted his boyfriend across the way. Carlos was working security today, but T.K. hadn’t seen him since they’d arrived. There had only been time for a quick hello and then they were busy setting up their tent. Carlos had disappeared into the crowd and now T.K. watched as he knelt beside a little boy who had dropped his cotton candy and appeared inconsolable, the sweet sugar melting immediately into a sticky puddle on the ground.

“Whew, I think it just went up another few degrees in here,” Tommy teased. “The way you two look at each other could melt an iceberg.”

T.K. rolled his eyes at his boss’ teasing, but the silly smile he was wearing stayed in place. He loved being able to spot his boyfriend when they were both working. There was something comforting about seeing the little pieces of each other’s days. 

The little boy’s dad appeared, a new cotton candy in hand and Carlos rose as they walked away, putting his hands on his hips and looking in the direction of the medical tent. T.K. sent him a wave, but Carlos didn’t seem to notice. T.K. watched as his boyfriend pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. A wisp of concern threaded its way through T.K.’s center. “Does he look weird to you?” he asked.

“What?” Nancy said, distracted by a stack of ice packs that had just gone tumbling to the ground.

“Carlos, he doesn’t look right.”

“It’s like a thousand freaking degrees out here. If Carlos looks slightly less god-like today than usual, that’s not his fault,” Nancy huffed, wiping a strand of sweaty, limp hair from her forehead.

“No, I think something’s wrong,” T.K. said, taking a few steps toward the edge of the tent. 

Carlos leaned against the side of a food stall and T.K.’s concern doubled. “Cap,” he said, turning to ask for permission.

“Go,” Tommy told him with a nod. “We’re good in here for a couple minutes.”

He didn’t hesitate, moving quickly through the crowd, sidestepping the puddle of cotton candy and weaving past a man carrying a large cloud of balloons to reach Carlos’ side.

His boyfriend didn’t look up as he approached, eyes closed, his face pale, breathing labored. “Hey,” T.K. said when he reached Carlos’ side.

Carlos opened his eyes slowly, like it was taking him a lot of effort. “Oh, hey,” he said, giving T.K. a lopsided smile.

“Are you okay?” T.K. asked, putting a hand to Carlos’ forehead and reaching for his wrist to take his pulse.

“I’m uh, I don’t know,” he admitted, eyes squinting against the light. “I feel a little off.”

T.K.’s felt his own pulse quicken. It was very unlike Carlos to admit he was unwell, especially when he was working. “Off how?” he asked, although he already had a creeping suspicion. At the very least his boyfriend was dehydrated, and based on his symptoms it seemed like he was quickly heading downhill toward something more serious.

“My head is…” Carlos kind of trailed off, swallowing hard again, a hand going to his stomach.

T.K. cupped his cheek. Carlos’ eyes were slightly glazed and he seemed unsteady on his feet. “Let’s get you out of the heat, all right?” T.K. said, sliding an arm around his waist and pulling him close.

“I need to get back—“

“Not right now you don’t,” T.K. said firmly. “Just a few minutes okay?”

Carlos nodded and leaned heavily on him, both of them walking slowly toward the medical tent. T.K. felt the moment his knees gave out, sending both of them sagging toward the ground. “Whoa, Carlos hey!” he shouted, struggling to keep them both upright.

Nancy vaulted over a picnic bench and came running toward them, putting her arm under Carlos’ other shoulder so they could walk him toward the tent and deposit him on a cot. “I’m okay,” he mumbled as they got him situated.

“No babe, you’re not,” T.K. said worriedly, reaching for his stethoscope.

“Carlos, I’m about to get a little frisky with you, but I don’t think T.K. will mind, all right?” Nancy said as she began unbuttoning Carlos’ uniform.

His Austin PD t-shirt underneath was soaked with sweat, which was better than the alternative in this case, but still not great T.K. thought grimly as he took his boyfriend’s blood pressure.

“T.K. what do you need?” Tommy called out from the other side of the tent where she was dealing with a woman in a similar situation.

“I think it’s borderline heat stroke,” T.K. called out. “Pulse is rapid and weak, skin is clammy.”

“Get him started on saline,” Tommy directed. “And if he can keep some liquid down we’ve got Gatorade over there.” She nodded toward a large Igloo cooler, full of ice, water, and sports drinks.

“I got it,” Nancy said, grabbing a bottle as T.K. prepped a line and deftly inserted it into his boyfriend’s arm. 

“Let’s get some wet towels too,” T.K. said. 

“On it.” Nancy was already moving, reaching for a stack of folded towels brought for just this purpose. 

They put cool cloths on his forehead, into his armpits, around his groin. Carlos shivered eyes tightly closed in discomfort, but he didn’t complain. 

“How you doing babe?” T.K. asked, hands cracking open a water bottle and pouring it over another towel until the entire thing was damp.

“My head’s spinning,” Carlos said, eyes closed, breathing shallow and fast, causing his chest to heave. 

“I’m sorry,” T.K. said sympathetically, sparing half a second to press a kiss to his forehead, frowning at the heat rolling off his skin. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise. This IV is going to help with the dehydration and we’re going to use these wet towels to cool you off. Just hang in there.”

Another volunteer medic arrived at the tent, a gurney in tow. “Got another one for you Gillian!” he called. 

Nancy looked at T.K. who nodded. “I’m good,” he said. “Go ahead.”

He settled onto a folding chair by Carlos’ head. “Let’s see if you can drink some of this, okay?” he asked, opening a bottle of Gatorade.

He helped Carlos lift his head and take a few sips. Carlos winced as the flavor hit his tongue. “Sorry,” T.K. said. “I know it’s not your favorite, but this is what they gave us.”

“It’s fine,” Carlos said, his voice breathy and strained.

T.K. took a wet towel and ran it gently across his forehead, over his cheeks, down his neck. “Feeling any better?” he asked, glancing up at the IV to make sure it was still doing its work. A quarter of the bag was gone so hopefully Carlos would feel the effects soon.

“Maybe?” Carlos said, his face still tight with discomfort. “I just feel weird.”

He grimaced and stiffened. “What’s wrong?” T.K. asked.

“My stomach.” He swallowed hard. “I don’t feel good.”

T.K. grabbed an emesis bag just in time, propping Carlos up so he could empty the Gatorade from his stomach. He groaned as he laid back down and T.K. began replacing the now warm towels with cooler, wetter ones. 

“Deep breaths,” T.K. encouraged as Carlos swallowed and frowned at the acrid taste now in his mouth. “This is going to pass, I promise.”

He resumed running the cool cloth over Carlos’ face. “What happened babe? You’ve clearly been feeling like crap for a while. Why didn’t you say something?”

“I don’t know,” Carlos said, closing his eyes. “It’s been busy. Lost kids, lost purses, teenagers looking for trouble.”

“I know, but you still have to take care of yourself,” T.K. said.

“Save the lecture T.K.,” Tommy said quietly as she walked by with a box of mini sunscreen bottles. 

T.K. closed his mouth. She was right. Carlos wasn’t in any shape to be told he’d messed up, the consequences were enough of a reminder. 

T.K. threaded his fingers through Carlos’ sweaty curls. “How’s the stomach?” he asked.

“Better,” Carlos said.

Color was coming back to his face and his breathing had slowed. “Let’s try some more Gatorade okay?” T.K. suggested.

Carlos wrinkled his nose but nodded. This time the liquid stayed down and T.K. left him to sip it on his own, while he tended to a few other patients who had begun to trickle in.

He dealt with a skinned knee, a teenager who’d overindulged on corn dogs, and a man who thought he was having a heart attack but it turned out he’d also overindulged on corn dogs. “Heartburn’s a bitch,” T.K. told him sympathetically as he doled out Pepto Bismol.

“Dude, where do you think you’re going?” T.K. heard Nancy ask from behind him.

He turned to find Carlos re-buttoning his uniform shirt, his legs hanging over the edge of the cot. “I’m still at work,” Carlos was telling her. “I need to get back.”

“Buddy you freaking passed out in your boyfriend’s arms like a woman in a regency novel half an hour ago. He’s not going to let you leave,” Nancy told him, arms crossed.

“Nance, come on,” Carlos said, flashing her that charming, sweet face that usually got him whatever he wanted. “I’m fine. You’ve got other people to worry about, let me get out of your hair.”

He stood up and T.K. watched in amusement as Nancy bodily blocked his path. “Don’t give me that look Reyes. Those eyes only work on your boyfriend,” she told him. “Sit down or be sedated.”

“Nancy—“

“You heard me.”

Carlos sat back down on the cot. Nancy nodded. “Good choice.”

She moved toward T.K. who sent her a grateful smile. “Thanks for the assist.”

Nancy thrust her chin up at him and gave him a fist bump. “I got your back.”

T.K. finished up with heartburn man, stripping off his gloves to put on a fresh pair as he walked back to Carlos’ cot. “Smart to stay on Nancy’s good side,” T.K. told him with an amused smile. 

“Yeah she’s kind of terrifying when she’s working,” Carlos said, peeking around him to make sure she wasn’t listening.

T.K. took Carlos’ pulse and his temperature, before reaching for his stethoscope and a bp cuff. “How’s your headache?” he asked.

“It’s fine.”

“Fine? Or gone?” T.K. asked.

Carlos avoided his gaze. “It’s fine,” he repeated.

T.K. sighed and leveled him with a look. “Babe.”

“It’s just a headache,” Carlos said. “People get headaches.”

“Well between that and the fact that your blood pressure is still low, I’d say you’re still dehydrated. Which means you’re not going anywhere.”

“T.K.!”

T.K. cupped the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads together and dropping his voice so only Carlos could hear. “I am not sending you back out there today. You’re dehydrated, tired, and have heat exhaustion bordering on heat stroke. It’s not safe. You wouldn’t send me into a firefight unarmed, so please don’t ask me not to do my job for you, okay?”

He felt the fight go out of his boyfriend, another sign that he wasn’t feeling up to par. A clear headed and healthy Carlos Reyes would not have backed down so easily. “I have to radio my boss.”

“Okay. We can do that,” T.K. said. “I want you on another bag of saline.”

“Seriously?”

In response T.K. cupped Carlos’ chin in his hand. “I love you.”

Carlos closed his eyes. “I know. But another entire bag?”

“And a bottle of water,” T.K. said, releasing him and putting a bottle in his hand. “And then you’re going home.”

“I want a second opinion,” Carlos grumbled as T.K. detached the empty IV bag and started a new one.

“In case Nancy didn’t make it clear, we’re all of the same opinion in here. And that opinion is that you shouldn’t die at a Hot Sauce Festival. Not a good look my love.”

[moodymelanist]

One Thousand Followers Celebration

okay I’m honestly kind of shook that we’re even here but thank you to everyone who’s a part of our little corner of the fandom. I love you all so so much and I’m so happy to be here ❤️ most people requested something cute and fluffy so here’s Cassian being drunk and and Nesta comes to get him. I hope you all enjoy!! 💘💘💘

feel free to read it on AO3 here too!

word count: 2975

—————

Nesta was halfway through her latest read when her phone started buzzing incessantly. It was just getting to the good part, where the main couple started to realize maybe there was something more between them than burning hatred, and she didn’t want to put it down. Frankly, it reminded her of her own love story, but she’d never admit that to anyone out loud.

She was forced to look away when her phone was vibrating so constantly with texts she thought someone was calling her. Sighing, she reached for her phone, unlocking it only to see her husband had sent her almost twenty messages.

Cassian, 11:52 PM

Nesta

Nes

I love yiu sooooo muche

Youe so pretty

I weish u were here

everyons laufghint at me but i miss u

wyd

nesssssssssss

are u ignoringme for a book agwain

:(

Swethearft<3

did i tell u i luv u td

wait its ok I ddid

i want a kiss when i see u ok

The remaining messages were a jumble of Spanish and English words mixed together, and while she had a working knowledge of Spanish, she didn’t know it well enough to even attempt to decipher what he was trying to tell her. Still, she couldn’t help but smile as she read through them all, affection blooming in her chest for her favorite person in the world.

Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel had gone out to their favorite bar for guys night, and Cassian was clearly drunk off his ass. It was really hard to keep a straight face with him normally, but when he was drunk, she thought it was one of the most adorable things she’d ever seen.

Nesta, 12:01 AM

I love you too, you big goofball

I’ll give you a kiss and a hug when I see you how’s that

Her phone was ringing within seconds, a picture of Cassian filling her screen before she answered.

“Hello?” she said, marking her page with a bookmark before closing it.

“Nesta!” Cassian exclaimed. She had to pull her phone from her ear for a moment, but she smiled again anyways.

“Hi, Cassian,” she replied, trying not to laugh. He was just so cute. “Are you having a good time?”

“Leave me alone, I’m talking to my wife,” he said, his voice sounding slightly further away. He must have been talking to Rhys or Azriel, but the way referred to her made her want to melt. They’d been together for years and married for just over one, but it still sent a thrill through her to hear him claim her out loud.

“Nes?” he said, his voice back to normal volume.

“I’m here,” she said, getting off the bed to begin looking for her shoes. He normally called her and started getting ridiculously affectionate when it was getting close for him to come home, so it was only a matter of time before he asked her to come get him.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Looking for my shoes,” she replied, spotting her boots on the floor. Leaning her phone against her ear, she bent down and put them on over her leggings before walking back to her dresser.

“Are you coming to find me?” he asked. She couldn’t help but smile at how excited he sounded by the prospect.

“Yes, baby.” Nesta hit speaker and put the phone down on their dresser as she took off the oversized shirt that she’d borrowed from him, slid a sports bra on, and put on a plain tee shirt over it.

“Oh thank God,” he said, and then dropped his voice to a loud whisper. “You’re much more fun than the dumbasses I’m with.”

She’d opened her mouth to reply, but then Cassian began talking to someone else nearby. “Tarquin! Fancy seeing you here! Are you still mad about your windows? Nes, I gotta go. Love you.”

It was a cool September evening, so Nesta grabbed a denim jacket before throwing her hair up into a bun and leaving their apartment. Once she got to her car, it was a short fifteen minutes to get to The Sidra. Thankfully there was ample street parking around the corner, and the bouncer let her in with a quick flash of her ID.

Nesta walked inside, spotting her husband and his friends immediately. They took up a ridiculous amount of space in one of the booths, and she couldn’t resist smiling as Cassian visibly brightened by her appearance.

“Nesta!” he shouted, grinning widely as she got closer. So much for subtlety, she supposed. She offered repeated apologies as she walked over to where he was sitting, but thankfully most of the people there seemed to think his behavior was too cute to be a serious nuisance.

Once she was next to the side of the booth he was sitting on, he pulled her in for a hug, wrapping his muscular arms around her waist and laying his head on her chest.

“Cassian,” she said at a normal volume, endlessly amused as he snuggled into her. She leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head before turning to greet Rhys and Azriel, both of whom looked seconds away from breaking out laughing.

“Don’t you dare,” she told them, tightening her arms around Cassian as she gave his friends a look. They both hold their hands up in surrender, Azriel raising his beer at her before turning back to Rhys.

“I missed you,” Cassian said against her chest, his voice muffled. “So much.”

“Every minute without you was excruciating,” Nesta said, playing along. He looked up at her with a pout.

“Stop teasing me,” he told her. He was frowning slightly now. “I did miss you a lot, you know.”

“I’m sorry. You’re just so cute like this, it’s hard not to tease you a little bit.”

“Not as cute as you.” Cassian smiled up at her, pleased with himself. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes good-naturedly and let him tug her into his lap.

“Sorry to crash your guys’ night,” she said to Rhys and Azriel now that she was facing them.

“He’s not as much fun when he gets like this anyway,” Azriel replied, chuckling. “In his old age, he’s turned into a sappy drunk.”

“Hey! We’re the same age!” Cassian protested from behind her, tightening his grip around her waist. Azriel and Cassian had both turned thirty earlier this year, while Rhys’ birthday wasn’t until November. Nesta had turned twenty-eight back in April.

“Good thing I like sappy drunks,” she said, twisting around to face him. He gave his friends a smug look as she pressed a kiss to his warm cheek, his stubble scratching her face in a way she loved.

“You two are the worst,” Rhys groaned.

“Like you and my sister are any better,” Nesta shot back as she turned around. Feyre and Rhys had been together since their college days and had tied the knot once they’d both graduated.

“Speaking of her, I’d love to get back home to her,” he replied. He pulled out his phone and began texting, and Nesta guessed he was asking if she was still awake.

“I guess that’s it then, huh?” Azriel asked, raising an eyebrow at Nesta.

“I’m sure Gwyn is dying to see you too,” she teased, smiling softly at him. She and Emerie had colluded with Cassian and Rhys to set the pair up on a blind date last year, and everyone had been thrilled when they’d agreed to keep seeing each other.

“She has a performance tomorrow, so she’s probably already asleep,” Azriel answered, raising a hand to catch the closest server’s attention.

“I told you my wife was hot as fuck,” Cassian said suddenly, shifting to point wildly at Nesta as their server – a young woman named Nuala – came by to bring them the check.

“I’m thrilled,” she replied dryly, raising an eyebrow as she looked at Nesta. “He hasn’t shut up about you for the last half an hour, you know. Thank God he wasn’t making you up.”

“Thanks,” Nesta said, her lips twitching from trying to hold in her laughter. Rhys put down his card to pay for all of them, waving off Cassian and Azriel’s attempts to give him money for their share of the check. Within a few minutes, the four of them were getting out of their booth and beginning the walk to the exit.

Cassian immediately went for Nesta’s hand, intertwining their fingers before bringing their hands to his mouth so he could kiss the back of hers.

“That is so unhygienic,” she said, exasperated. “I haven’t washed my hands since I left our place.”

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he said, grinning at her. He kissed the back of her hand one more time before lowering their hands to swing them between the two of them as they kept walking.

“Who’s that guy glaring at you?” Nesta asked, noticing a tall Black guy staring Cassian down from a booth near the door. He had silver curls that stood out brightly against his dark skin, but he couldn’t have been much older than any of them. It had to have been natural, since his eyebrows and lashes were the same color.

“Oh, that’s Tarquin,” he replied, waving at Tarquin with a sheepish grin from where they stood. Tarquin flipped him off before turning back to his companions, who both shared the same dark skin and silvery hair.

“Why is he glaring at you? Do I need to talk to him?” Nesta asked, frowning. She was the only one allowed to glare at her husband like that.

“No sweetheart, it’s fine,” Cassian replied, laughing as they walked by the table. “It’s our inside joke. He threw a party senior year of college and I might have gotten drunk and broken a few windows in his house.”

“You what? Cassian, that’s not an inside joke.”

“It’s fine, Nes. I paid him back for it, but his parents were pissed. I’m banned from his neighborhood, actually.”

“That is not fine.”

“I might be drunk, but I know when I’m right,” Cassian said, just before walking right into the door. Azriel had accidentally let it swing behind him and Cassian hadn’t grabbed it in time, and it got him right in the face.

Nesta burst out laughing before she clapped her free hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have laughed. Are you okay?”

“The love of my life just laughed at my pain,” he whined, yanking open the door. Azriel and Rhys were absolutely losing it on the other side, making it hard for Nesta to keep her composure in solidarity with Cassian.

“Let me see it,” she said once they were outside. Cassian had pressed his hand to the side of his face, but Nesta got him to move it with her free one. His cheek was red from the impact, but she was sure it’d be fine with some ice once they got back to their place.

“It’s not so bad,” she reassured him. It was hard to keep a straight face with his friends – mostly Rhys – still howling in the background, but she got on her toes to give him a kiss on his face.

“It still hurts,” he said, pouting at her. “Can I get another kiss?”

“You big baby,” she said, but she leaned in and kissed his cheek again. “That’s all you’re getting. When we get home, I’m putting ice on that.”

“I love it when you boss me around,” he said dreamily, letting her tug him past his friends. “It does things to me.”

“Please take him home,” Rhys called from behind them. Nesta flipped him off before Cassian could, earning another wide grin from him as they walked towards her car.

“Thanks for the best thing I’ve ever seen!” Azriel added, both of their laughter fading the farther Nesta and Cassian walked.

“They’re so mean,” Cassian grumbled as she dug into her pocket for the keys.

“You want me to yell at them? Hurt their feelings a little?” she offered, unlocking the doors.

“No,” he said, pouting again. He got into the passenger seat as Nesta walked around to the driver’s side, and he immediately reached for her hand once she sat down.

“I’d do it if you wanted me to,” she told him, shooting him an amused look before starting the car.

“Maybe a real kiss would make me feel better,” he suggested, leaning towards her and puckering his lips.

Nesta leaned in and brushed her lips against his, but he wasn’t having it. He cupped the back of her head as he deepened their kiss, warming her up inside from the cool September air.

“Come on, let’s go home,” Nesta said, pulling away even though it was the last thing she wanted to do. He huffed and pouted but thankfully put his seatbelt on.

It was a quick ride back to their building, and thankfully Cassian managed not to walk into any more doors on their way upstairs. He wrapped his arm around her as they got off the elevator, which Nesta thought was as much for balance as it was to hold her close.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” he said once they were back in their apartment. He immediately walked into the bedroom and flopped on their bed, somehow managing not to knock anything over or hit Nesta’s book.

“You’re welcome,” Nesta said back, taking the time to take off her jacket and shoes before walking to the freezer to grab a bag of frozen peas. She wrapped it in a paper towel before coming to lay next to him, taking down her bun so that her hair was down around her.

“Can I tell you a secret?” he whispered, turning to look at her. His eyes lit up when he noticed her hair was down, and he reached over to play with it. She handed him the peas instead, making sure he pressed them to the side of his face.

“I thought I knew all your secrets,” she whispered back, smiling softly as she indulged him. She loved that she was the one who got to see him like this, that she was the first person he saw in the mornings and the last person he saw when he closed his eyes at night.

“You do,” he confirmed, pulling the peas away to smile at her. She gave him a disapproving look and he quickly put them back before continuing. “I love nights like these.”

“Why’s that?” she asked. She reached out to brush some of his loose waves away from his face so they didn’t get in the way of the peas.

“I never thought I would be as happy as I am right now,” Cassian said seriously. His other eye was blocked from the position of the peas, so Nesta just held the gaze of the one she could see as he moved his hand to cup her face.

Sometimes he would say things like this that made her feel like her heart was going to burst from how sweet he was. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shifted closer to her, and Nesta inhaled deeply at the lingering scent of his cologne. “I remember when you wouldn’t even say my name out loud. Now you’re here with me and my peas.”

She laughed before answering. “It was the peas that really sold me, you know. I should have written them into my vows.”

“And you’re telling jokes? Tonight must be my lucky night.”

“Shut up before I take the peas from you, Cassian.”

“You love me too much to do that, Nes.”

“Stop using my love for you against me. It’s unfair and you know it.”

“Never,” he said, running his thumb across her cheek. “I love you too much not to use every advantage I can get.”

“I taught you too well,” she said, smiling softly at him. “Come on, let’s get ready for bed.”

She turned to kiss his palm, as unhygienic as it was, and then got up and started changing into pajamas. He groaned as he rolled off the bed, stretching as he stood up to reveal a strip of golden-brown skin at his abdomen before walking towards their bathroom.

Nesta joined him to brush her teeth in another one of his oversized shirts and no pants. He finished first, squeezing her hip as he walked by her and went back into their bedroom. She quickly brushed through her hair and pulled it into a loose braid for sleep before turning off the light.

Cassian was waiting for her under the covers, laughing as he examined the back of her book. “Is there smut in this one?”

She rolled her eyes before grabbing it from him. “You’re insufferable.”

“That’s a yes, then,” he said, grinning. She turned the lights off and put the book on her nightstand before she slid under the covers, snuggling up next to him anyway.

“I’ll let you know when I get to the juicy parts,” she grumbled eventually. He laughed under his breath, pulling her tighter against him as he maneuvered them so her back was to his chest as usual. His heart was beating its usual steady rhythm against her, a familiar baseline that let her know she was safe and everything was right in the world as long as she could curl up next to him every night.

“I love you,” she whispered, not sure if he was asleep yet. He could fall asleep anywhere, and ridiculously quickly at that; she wasn’t too proud to admit she was jealous.

“I love you, too,” he replied, tangling their legs together.

It didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep after that.

tag list (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @live-the-fangirl-life​ | @nessiansimp | @bookologist | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @sayosdreams | @dealingdifferentdevils | @rowaelinismyotp | @arinbelle | @swankii-art-teacher | @angelicvoice19 | @teagoddess99 | @dontgetsalmonella | @champanheandluxxury | @chloepereyra | @bookstantrash | @houseofcalores | @lysakirova | @generalnesta | @gwynberdara | @sv0430 | @catplayinvioline | @julemmaes | @secretlovelybeauty | @flora-shadowshine | @imsointobooks | @sophilightwood | @lemonade-coolattas |