#honestly if it were me I would have let the dot kill all of them

[anotherdragon]

The people I watched it with kind of interpreted the first half of the episode as 'technology bad' but honestly? To me it felt less like "these kids wont get off their darn phones" and more along the lines of how privileged people will refuse to even take a second to pay attention to how horrible the state of the world is, will continuously ignore and deny and turn a blind eye to anything unappealing to them. I also loved how immediately... strange it was that every character was white with blue eyes and conventionally attractive. Even before the ending it was obvious that these were all privileged rich white people who don't care about anyone but themselves and throw a fit if someone doesn't hold their hand through every little thing. In conclusion the bugs were based as hell

[winchester-girl67]

Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon. 

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader 

Word Count: 902 

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff 

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy. 

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!” 

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door. 

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed. 

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse. 

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again. 

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt. 

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home. 

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest. 

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture. 

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left. 

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow. 

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been. 

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features. 

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled." 

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door." 

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you. 

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to. 

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax. 

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little. 

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest. 

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours. 

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon. 

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy. 

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark. 

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together. 

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep. 

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 18

Staring John Lennon, as that kid I should’ve been nicer to in first grade who always smelled like PB&J and was never to be seen without his pokemon cards

The dancing is really too cute. They’re just absolutely giddy. Making each other laugh AND an excuse to touch? John and Paul’s heaven. 

John saying he was too excited after yesterday to go to bed. Like a fucking kid on christmas.

Everybody is serving today. While the candy-land suit is fun, I actually just love that vivid purple so much that I think it’s better without the coat over it. Billy looks extremely suave and classy.  And those red polka-dots on Ringo. Red suits him, and I think with his very frank, masculine aspect, he looks so beautiful and bold in feminine fits. Paul and John are both just wearing what they wore yesterday. Yeah. But John is still a cutie, and Paul, well, you all know.

The advice chain about finishing a song while you’re working on. Paul → John → George

Paul honestly does a great job being supportive of George and his work. Coming over and grooving with him, then hopping on drums then guitar (right-handed, may I add). Just to give George musical atmosphere to flesh out his song and start thinking of arrangement ideas, I assume. Then letting him bounce ideas around. And the whole time being overly-enthusiastic to build George up. Look how happy George is with the love and attention. 

John helping move some equipment in. We love a man who sometimes doesn’t think he’s too good for manual labor. 

Yes, clean that homeless man’s palm sweat off your instrument. Probably smart. 

TFW you made Paul McCartney jealous of your musical abilities. 

John really knew so well when to be his little impish self and when to be hard and intimidating. Exhibit A, going from, “Can we have our microphones, oh, mister, can we please?” to “And get one for Billy too.” In a matter of seconds.

George Martin stepping in when they’re all getting panicky about the sound and they need an authority figure to reassure them in ways that someone like Glyn Johns never could. Just, perfectly cool and collected, puts everything right as they’re all shouting at him like school children who’ve just had a terrible time in PE. 

“Believe me, when I tell you.” “Oh, I do.” Oh, good. He did put it in. That’s nice. Right, and this is the moment Yoko decides to tell John her divorce has come through and pull him in for a big smooch. Honestly, it just shows how threatened she feels by Paul. Nevermind her whole, “good thing Paul isn’t a girl or he would have been a great threat,” quote. Clearly, he just is a threat regardless of sex.

And then John, “I’m freeeee.” At Paul. Honestly, the amount of things they direct specifically and aggressively at each other that should’ve just been general statements if there wasn’t some weird thing between them. It’s really something. Normally, you’d announce something like that to the whole room. But it seems John specifically wants to impress upon Paul that he and Yoko could get married right now if they wanted to. I mean, it’s a little difficult to make the point, because John and Paul almost aways seem to be talking only to each other. But through the whole discussion of Yoko’s divorce, John does not take his eyes off of Paul. 

Oh my gosh, Ivan Vaughn is here? How many emotional support boyfriends does Paul need to make up for John having Yoko? Glyn, Linda, George Martin, Dennis, Robert Fraser, and now Ivan? Fuck’s sake, Yoko, you’re a powerful woman.   

Paul’s Strawberry Fields piano. Let me be as vulnerable and broken as possible in my singing, since I can’t show you any other way that you’re killing me. Do you remember this song? That you wrote when we were at the height of our partnership only two years ago? How happy we were then? How beautiful the world seemed for that one brief moment? And John can’t look at him, because, yes he fucking remembers and yes he knows he’s hurting Paul. But for whatever reason, (my theory is he wanted something more Paul couldn’t give him. What that was and whether it was ever specifically vocalized I don't have a guess) going back to that time would be more painful to John than this has been.  

So they’ve been goofing off and Paul gives this little speech to get them back on task. “Alright Chawn Love. I’ve gotta call order, John, now, valuable time, here, son. Cool down, son.” But John’s response, “Don’t let me down, babe” completely switches Paul’s gears. He now thinks it’s important enough to get in this little snatch of a *meaningful* cover, “Take these Chains from my Heart,” reversing the course of productivity he’d got them on and ignoring the fact that they were about to do a take on two-shilling-a-foot tape. My interpretation of this moment is a bit tin-hatish and long, but suffice it to say, John is not happy with the message.

Everyone convincing Paul to do another take of his song is surprising, considering everything we always hear about how Paul was a tyrant task-master who just forced everyone to keep doing his lame muzak over and over when they all clearly hated it. Mal, “You can always go back to it.” Paul, “Do you want your head kicked in?” John, “We’ll never get a chance to do it again.” Paul, “Okay, honey bunch. Let’s hit it one time, tutti-frutti.” 

Yoko watching Paul check out her boyfriend’s ass. Classic. Also the fact that she literally copied his outfit? I get so much second-hand embarrassment for her, and it’s not when she’s being a weirdo and a statement-maker. It’s the having to physically stick the gum you were offering your boyfriend into this hand because he won’t take his eyes off his boyfriend for two seconds to look at you. 

Everyone laughing at Perfect Paul being out of tune is so funny to me. Like when the nerd finally gets a question wrong and the whole class is all “ooooohhhh!”

Ringo having a grand old time on the drums. I love that he just knew that’s what he wanted to do from such a young age and he never wanted to do anything else. And why would he? He’s a genius at it.

Paul. “John’s got something at 1:30 and so have I.” Smirk emoji. Side-eye emoji. George is with me. “Yeah we've got something too. I’ll do Ringo at 1:30.” I'm dead.

This moment right here hurts me. Paul’s enjoying a nice cuddle with Ringo until he remembers the camera. You’re not going to get in trouble for having your friend’s arm around your shoulders, Paul. Why are you like this? 

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Okay, okay s/o being part of Itto's gang and Sara is constantly annoyed by the shenningans.

(Genshin Impact) Sara's S/O being part of Itto's gang

Sara regrets many things in her life. The people she wronged during the Vision Hunt Decree. The arrests she made.

And the biggest regret of all, falling in love with a dumbass of immeasurable magnitude.

Whenever they were with her alone, S/O was the sweetest person she had ever met.

They didn't care about who she was supposed to be, they loved her for her. Not as a general, or a daughter of the Kujou family, just Sara.

S/O was always so polite and courteous with her, never failing to put a smile on her face.

But the moment they were with Itto?

====

Sara had received news of a disturbance from the Arataki Gang, specifically demanding for her presence.

She showed up, ready to throw a couple of morons into a holding cell until she saw S/O alongside Itto, and 2 other members wearing-

(Sara) "By the Shogun, what the hell are you wearing?"

They were all wearing matching red and white striped uniforms, with fake mustaches and straw hats.

(S/O) "Back me up boys!" ahem "I may not always love youuuuu-~"

(Everyone) "BUT LONG AS THERE ARE STAAARS ABOVE YOUUUUU!

YOU NEVER NEEEEED TO DOUBT IIIIT!

I'LL MAKE YOU SO SURE ABOUT IIIIT!-"

(S/O) "-God-

(Itto) "-God-!"

(Everyone) "-GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT I'D BEEEE, WITHOUT YOOOUUUU!~"

Their voices were completely out of harmony, and grating to the ears.

Worst of all, it was drawing attention, and everyone was beginning to connect the dots.

S/O had gotten the gang to provide backup vocals for a love song, for her.

(Sara) "Cease this racket at once, or I will throw you into the cells myself! This is a public area, you can't just start bursting into song like this!"

(S/O) "Aw, do you not like the song?-"

Sara shut her eyes as she felt her cheeks intensify in heat.

(Sara) "Do not change the subject on me, S/O!"

She had half a mind to smite them where they stood. Honestly, she was pretty close to doing so.

(Itto) "Ah come on, no one sings better than the Arataki Quartet! Right guys?"

(Arataki Gang Member 1) "Yeah!"

(Arataki Gang Member 2) "Dang right, boss!"

(S/O) "No one's better than us!"

====

S/O was involved in Beetle fighting, specifically making sure to call theirs "Sara" too.

If it wasn't for Shinobu's help, S/O and Itto would have been smacked upside the head by Sara more times than she could count.

And Archons above, S/O argues so loudly about her wings!

(S/O) "No, I won't let Sara make you fly off! Stop asking, man!"

(Itto) "Whaat?! Come on bro, just ONE flight is all I'm asking!"

(S/O) "Those wings are MINE! Back off!"

(Sara) "I'm standing right here! And they're mine, S/O."

(S/O) "Aw come on, I've seen you smile when you let me nap on your wi-"

(Sara) "S-SHUT UP! Don't go announcing that to the entire world!"

(Itto) "Bleh! TMI, nevermind, don't want it!"

Honestly, Sara has no idea how she fell in love with this idiot.

...But she couldn't deny that it did make her feel happy at times.

(Itto) "Goood, S/O never shuts up about you!"

(Shinobu) "Boss, not exactly a good idea to insult S/O to her face."

(Itto) "Psh, it's not exactly false either!"

(Sara) "R-Really?"

(Itto) "GOD yeah! They keep goin' on and on about how sweet you are, it's like, DUDE! I KNOW! YOU SAID IT LIKE, FIVE TIMES NOW!"

Sara lets a small smile escape her lips before clearing her throat.

(Sara) "Hmph. I'll talk to them."

(Itto) "Please do, I'm gonna jump off a cliff the next time they start gushing about you!"

Itto walked off, leaving Shinobu and Sara alone.

(Shinobu) "...So you're going to kill them for gushing aloud how much they love you, right?"

(Sara) "Probably."

Shinobu chuckled, her mask muffling her voice.

(Sara) "I just wish they could express their love in ways that didn't make my veins burst in anger."

(Shinobu) "Psh, we both know you secretly love it."

(Sara) "I do not."

[mymarifae]

jade did nothing wrong

oh yeah she only put aventurine in a new, fancier form of slavery, reducing him to a tool. an asset. a pretty little thing to make her richer that she'll cast aside the moment he's no longer useful to her.

and don't give me any crap about how aventurine "wanted" this - he was literally a slave?? his options at this point in his life were EXTREMELY limited and just killing his "master" wouldn't have been enough to secure his freedom. as we saw in this very cutscene, he was about to go on trial for murder. the ipc didn't give a damn that the man he killed was a fucking slave owner; they were still going to punish him to the full extent of the law, so he would have been going to prison for a VERY long time (or for life), or he'd be sentenced to death. playing off the murder in a way that caught their attention and made them consider his... "worth as an asset", so to speak, was his best bet. he'd be freed from his (literal, at least) chains, and he would have the opportunity to earn money and thus survive in this capitalistic intergalactic hellscape the ipc has been building up for centuries.

ah, and while we're here, should we talk about how she tells him here that his birth name is "destined to be buried in the dirt?" after seeing her interactions with topaz, this isn't a stonehearts thing. they don't HAVE to cast off their birth names and embrace the identity of their cornerstone.

i suppose it's only a coincidence that topaz's name is of slavic and greek origin while aventurine's is romani, and this totally doesn't play further into the (not-exactly-the-most-subtle-anymore) subtext of the ipc's chokehold on the entire universe being an allegory for the racist, white supremacist capitalistic systems plaguing the real world today. which, for the record, is an idea that has existed throughout the game's duration thus far and was articulated a little more loudly in the 2.1 update, with the deep dives into aventurine's past and all, and then was really hammered in with boothill's backstory.

(let's set aside the very valid complaints about hoyoverse's allergy to melanin for a moment - we know aventurine and boothill are not white, and the way their home planets were treated in comparison to, say, topaz's, means something.)

and even if you don't want to connect these two very obvious dots and want to pretend the ipc is more of a neutral force (????), let me just point out how fucked it is for jade to sever aventurine's connection to his birth name. one of his last ties to his culture. topaz gets to keep hers, gets to claim both her past and her cornerstone as integral parts of her identity - but aventurine only gets his cornerstone. the ipc encompasses every part of who he is now. i suppose this qualifies as doing nothing wrong too and not as an act of manipulation and cruelty?

(digressing for a moment to point out a positive because honestly this is a heartbreaking thing to say. aventurine's future self calling him Kakavasha suggests that he didn't truly give in to this treatment and instead fiercely clung to every scrap of his past he had left.)

and just. before i move on from aventurine and topaz completely, i guess we can ignore how inappropriately she touched topaz?

"they're both adults" yeah! thank fucking god! but topaz is said over and over to be Very Young for the position she holds. she, much like aventurine, has been working for the ipc since her late teen years. neither of them were promoted to stonehearts - a position that typically requires a loooooooooot of experience over SEVERAL years with the company - right away, remember that. backtracking to this for a moment:

jade is very much a Grown Ass Woman here. while aventurine is probably like, freshly 18. he and topaz are similar in age. jade is definitely more than one decade older than both of them. maybe you don't care about that; maybe you don't care about a senior boss figure taking advantage of what appears to be a puppy crush born from starry-eyed admiration (which is in turn born from topaz literally being indoctrinated when her home planet was "integrated" into the ipc's system) to make topaz more agreeable to whatever she's told to do. and notice how jade dangles the promise of a promotion right after overhearing how difficult topaz's recent demotion has made her life...?

also if you want to argue about me referring to jade as a senior figure that's quite literally what topaz says about her, so...:

but whatever, right? not a thing done wrong here. Nope.

and we can definitely overlook the way she runs bonajade exchange, right? surely it's of no significant note that she shows no mercy in the contracts she writes up. people come in, trade away their most valuable possessions, and almost immediately find themselves in a hard place with no options... except for another visit to bonajade exchange. consequences of their own greed, sure, but i really want to point out how she doesn't try to help. she doesn't try to include a clause or two that may work in their favor if they're clever. she doesn't leave any loopholes. she forces them to be completely dependent on her, and takes, and takes, and takes... to what end? i don't know, and i'm scared to find out.

i'm not saying she has to or should show mercy to the people that visit her pawnshop. i'm fine with a character who just does evil things, and some of her customers probably deserve whatever end waits for them in the jaws of the snake. but if they were going to show that she has a softness about her, a hint of good intentions... this is where they would have done it. the fact that this is completely absent says an awful fucking lot about the kind of person she is, yeah?

and on that note, i'm guessing you want to just ignore how numby is TERRIFIED of her?

because yeah i'm sure that has nothing to do with the very common trope of animals being able to tell when a person is actively malicious and dangerous. everything is fine, isn't it?

[anonymous-dentist]

A snippet from the Star Wars AU:

-

Cellbit, first off, doesn't even know what the Force is. It's an abstract concept, like childhood. Or peace. Or the moons.

Cellbit's home planet of Favela had five moons. By the time he was launched across the galaxy into the war, Favela was down to three.

Now, as Cellbit slits yet another throat under the too-warm Favela sun, there is only one moon left, and it's set to be demolished by the Empire in a week's time.

Grimacing at the smell, Cellbit powers off his knife and tucks it away. He drops the corpse unceremoniously, wrinkling his nose at the way its fingers limply cling to the front of his jacket. He brushes them off; gross.

The job was supposed to be a simple one: meet up with Forever and drop off a ROM for him to deliver to the Resistance he definitely isn't part of. From there, Cellbit would pick up Richarlyson and get him off-planet just in case the Empire's laser causes more destruction than anticipated.

But, well, news travels fast, especially when it comes to Cellbit. Because everybody on Favela's heard all about the young Jedi apprentice who went to war a child and came home a Sith Lord, and Cellbit really doesn't know how to tell them that he's never even held a lightsaber. Honestly, he doesn't know how the rumor started, but it's fucking annoying because he can't so much as breathe in his home planet's direction without getting a laser rifle pointed at his face.

Cellbit picks up the dead man's rifle off the ground and slings it over his shoulder. It's empty, but Forever's a bit of a collector; if he doesn't want it, his "friend" The Demon will.

There's a rustle from behind a nearby building. At the same time, Cellbit's comm rings.

A simple man, Cellbit opens the call in his earpiece.

"Gatinho!" he hears, and he smiles despite the gun starting to peek its way into the street aimed towards him.

Cellbit pulls his knife back out and powers it back on. It hums in his hand. His fingers start to tingle; he needs to get Mike to reseal the handle again, the laser's starting to leak through.

"Guapito," he cheerfully responds, "how are you?"

"Fine, fine, I just had a question about the flowers."

The flowers, right. For the wedding.

In two months, Cellbit is going to get married to the love of his life. He and Roier already have the venue booked, and now they're working on the rest of it. Cellbit has a suit fitting booked for a week from now, and Roier supposedly already has his picked out.

The color scheme is red and white. That being said...

Click!

"What about amaranths?" Cellbit suggests.

He ducks just as the rifle fires. Its bullet singes his hair, fucking asshole.

Scowling, Cellbit charges the bastard and swings at them with his knife. They just barely dodge out of the way. The knife cuts through their pristine white helmet, revealing a scarred smile and blank, empty eyes.

"I mean, yeah, obviously," Roier scoffs. "But what else? Roses, maybe?"

The soldier butts the end of their rifle into Cellbit's stomach and pushes him away, and then they pull their rifle back and level it at his face and they pull the trigger and-

"I don't know, aren't those kind of cliche?" Cellbit asks, tumbling to the side and just narrowly avoiding a laser to the face. He falls into a roll and ducks behind a wall. "Like, they're fine, but I think your dad would kill me if we went with something cheap."

"Roses aren't fucking cheap, man. In this economy?"

Cellbit lets out a labored breath, and it's just a bit too loud because Roier goes deathly quiet on his end of the line.

"Fine," Cellbit pants. "Roses are fine. I said they were fine."

Another volley of bullets pepper the wall behind him. A few go right through the wall and mark the building opposite with smoking black dots.

A beep from the comm marks the end of the call. Fuck.

Cellbit adjusts his grip on his knife.

"You know," he calls, hoping the Empire soldier can hear him, "you're going to want me to kill you now."

No response. Figures. It's kind of hard to speak when you were born without a mouth.

One more round of gunfire, and now they need to reload their gun and-

Cellbit leaps out from behind the wall with an animalistic snarl, pouncing upon the soldier and knocking them to the ground. They twist in his grasp, kicking and punching with the hand not holding their rifle.

He presses his knife to their throat, and they freeze.

"You know who I am," he says. "Nod for 'yes'."

The soldier nods. Good. So they can hear.

"You're one of Cucurucho's," Cellbit says. It isn't a question; he could recognize one of Cucurucho's personalized clones from a light-year away.

Another nod, this one more frantic.

"Is Cucurucho on-planet?"

A shake of the head.

"Did Cucurucho send you?"

Nothing.

Cellbit presses the knife in enough for it to start cutting through the soldier's armor, melting it. No response. Seems they've accepted their fate, then.

There's no higher honor for a soldier than to die in the heat of battle. Cellbit may not respect the Empire worth a damn, but he respects the art of war enough to let a soldier die the way the universe intended.

Cellbit drags his knife across the soldier's throat and watches the little life left behind drain out of their eyes. Once they're dead, he stands, and he pulls out his comm to call his fiancé back, his back turned to the dead soldier.

Roier doesn't pick up, but-

PEW!!

Cellbit gasps a scream as a laser shoots through his shoulder. Instinctively, he drops his knife to clutch at his arm, spinning around to face the soldier he had just killed with wide confused eyes, what the fuck?

"You're dead," he tells them. This is new. "You're- hold on."

Entirely disregarding the rifle pointed at his chest, Cellbit struggles to pull out his camera from off of his belt. He could use this! Maybe it's just a fluke, but maybe Cucurucho finally-

"Get away from my husband, you piece of shit!"

Cellbit looks up just in time to watch a red beam of light stab right through the soldier's chest. Over their shoulder, he can see the messy, annoyed face of his very handsome fiancé, who was supposed to stay on the ship to finish getting it ready for Richarlyson.

Roier pulls his lightsaber out and spins it once in his hand before powering it off and tucking it away. He spits on the soldier's corpse as it falls, and then he kicks it for good measure. His eyes almost seem to glow gold for a moment, for just a second, but then he looks up at Cellbit and his face melts into a smile.

"Gatinho!" he cheers.

He jumps over the body and tackles Cellbit in a hug, picking him up and spinning him in a circle before setting him back down and proceeding to lightly smack the back Cellbit's head with a frown.

"You said you would be fine on your own," he pouts.

"I was fine!" Cellbit protests. But he can't hide the wince as Roier's hand brushes against his shoulder, and he can't hide the scent of burning flesh.

"Uh-huh," Roier flatly says.

Cellbit rolls his eyes and shrugs his way out of his fiancé's hold. He bends down to pick his knife up and frowns at the new dent in its handle. Mike's gonna kill him...

"I guess you'll just need me to protect you from now on," Roier sighs.

"My knife..." Cellbit whines. He looks down at it sadly.

"Fuck your knife, it couldn't even kill that guy!"

"It tried its best!"

"Just get a new knife. That way you won't get shot like an idiot the next time you go out on a job by yourself."

Roier grumbles and swoops Cellbit into another hug, this time not letting go as Cellbit squirms in his arms. He mutters loving insults into Cellbit's hair and pinches his ear once before letting go and taking his hand, allowing Cellbit to put his poor dented knife away.

It's only then in that moment of quiet that Cellbit realizes something.

He looks down at Roier with a wide grin. "You called me your husband."

Roier's cheeks redden just slightly. Just slightly, barely noticeable under the red Favela sun.

"I was just practicing, you know?" he says. "For later."

Cellbit's heart skips a beat. He can't help it. He kisses Roier, and he laughs into Roier's mouth as Roier starts swearing at him about PDA and not kissing in front of dead bodies.

"I love you," Cellbit whispers.

Roier pulls his face free from Cellbit's and puts his lips next to Cellbit's ear: "I know."

And that's all Cellbit needs to know.

[tashacee]

You said Warriors found Wild the morning after most of them met in Master Mode. How did that meeting go? Please! The curiosity is killing me!

Master Mode: Meet Wild

Warriors needed a break. He didn’t think it was too much to ask, not really. After all; for the past day he’d done nothing but be the responsible one. When he was thrown into a strange forest in a different world, he’d followed his training and got his bearings. When he ran into the sailor for the first time in four years - the kid looking barely a day older and delighted to see his big brother again, he’d grinned and hugged him back, but had also taken charge of looking out for him.

He thought that he’d shown admirable restraint for not attacking the literal living tree man and was glad of that restraint now because Time, as he was called, seemed to be a bastion of sanity in this bizarre world of fairytale creatures and barnyard animals he was now living in.

Still. It probably was foolish of him to think that he could go and take a whizz in peace. He was a Link, after all, and peace just wasn’t really on the cards for him.

Well, he at least got his business done before anything happened. He had time to spare - he’d asked Time to keep an eye on the other heroes while he was gone and the larger hero had agreed. Well. He’d said something that sounded like “bru-ra-hroom”, but Warriors figured that meant “sure no problem.”

So he figured he had some time. He sighed and closed his eyes as he leaned on a tree, breathing deeply and counting to ten in his head. It was okay. He could do this. It was just another weird ass journey. He could do this.

Behind him came the sound of someone clearing their throat, and then a distinct, low, ‘meow’. Warriors jumped, opening his eyes and turning around, fully expecting to see a cat. Honestly, he probably wouldn’t have been very surprised if it was a cat-hero.

And. Well.

He wasn’t WRONG.

Uhhhh.

The person before him was clearly, in some way at least, related to cats. But he was not by any stretch of the imagination anything like the tabby that lived in the guards barracks back home.

This person was at least seven feet tall, with greenish grey fur dotted with tattoos, long, red hair, a tail, snout, and claws, was covered in scars, and was wearing a sarong.

He was awkwardly waving a hand and looked deeply nervous, shifting from foot to foot where he stood still half hidden behind a tree. One wrong move and warriors was sure he would bolt.

The captain sighed.

“Are you Link?” He asked

The cat man blinked. Meowed. And nodded. He looked even more embarrassed.

Warriors ran a hand through his hair. Welp. This might as well happen. He looked over at the cat man and frowned; there were leaves in his fur and his white sarong was mussed and slightly dirty, as if he had been curled up in the undergrowth.

“Have-“ he cleared his throat. “Have you been out here all night?”

The cat man seemed to shrink even further as he nodded. He gestured to the camp and then to himself, shrugging. Huh. So the big scary cat man had been nervous.

…okay that was fair. Diverse as their group was, there were no other giant cat men and there was no telling how they might have reacted to him. Someone might have even shot him in a panic!

Warriors sighed. The poor guy looked like he hadn’t slept and was clearly nervous, his tail pulled in close as he picked at the skin around his fingers.

“Alright. C’mon, you must be hungry. I can’t promise gourmet cooking, but we have food at least.” He reached out and put a hand on the guy’s arm to guide him back to camp.

The cat man purred softly and then made a gesture - was it a sign? Wars didn’t recognise it but it seemed… vaguely like stirring.

“Are you… you know how to cook?” He hazarded.

The cat man meowed again, apparently pleased as he nodded. Well. That was something!

Warriors smiled. “Well, okay, you can absolutely cook if you want. Let’s get you introduced first, yeah? Okay.”

Wars smiled and led the giant cat man into camp, feeling positively saintly. So much for a break: he’d gone for a whizz and come back with another giant brother to add to the pile!

But, well. Seeing how his new brother - Wild, the sword called him - settled in with the rest of the heroes, how he immediately bonded with time and Twillght, how he gave a grateful rumble to Warriors when he passed over a fresh cooked breakfast - the captain couldn’t really say that he minded the interruption.

After all- what are brothers for if not for keeping him on his toes?

[yeeterthek33per]

New Beginnings and Interesting Reads

Mary Fowler x Reader

Requested by Anon

Honestly, she'd thought she could get away with not stopping to check on the little red light on her dash. It was just blinking so incessantly that she wanted desperately to have it just go away.

Who would have thought the great Mary Fowler, Australian Matildas Footballer, was one to ignore her car screaming at her until it forced her to pull over.

So now, she was stuck on foot, walking around a tiny ass town on the outskirts of Manchester after having it towed to the local mechanic. It wasn't tiny tiny, after all, there was, in fact, a mechanic.

There were a few dotted shops here and there, and there was a main street with a couple of grocery stores and various goods and services fronts. One that, for some reason, stood out to her was a rustic little two storey building. Standing out from the modernised concreting of the other stores surrounding it.

As she walked up to the door, she could see it was a bookstore. Books were lining the windows of varying conditions and colours.

The Rugged Pages.

Huh. Seems like something from a fantasy universe. Perfect way to kill time.

A little bell chimes when she steps in the store with a little push of the door. It's only a few seconds before a smiling employee greets her from behind one the many book laden wooden shelves.

She greets the employee back but doesn't really get a good look at them because she's too preoccupied looking around at the interior of the place.

It's a much bigger interior than she expected. Instead of a full second floor, there's a balcony that wraps around the outer walls and a set of what looks like mahogany stairs leading up from the far left. The centre of it opens up to peer into the upper ceiling and the walls of bookshelves that line the balcony.

There's dozens of shelves downstairs, with varying genres of books and age grouped stories. Starting with the kids' section towards the front and the more adult esque reads towards the far wall.

The oak counter is sat towards the far right of the back wall, a doorway just set in behind it leading in to what Mary assumes is a back/storage room.

"Is there anything I can help you with, miss?"

The accent is shockingly familiar to the aussie. A smile creeps onto her face as she gets a full look of the person behind the australian accent.

Shoulder-length hair pulled up into a high bun with a midlength undercut that looks like it hasnt been shaved down in a few weeks. A pair of plastic framed country road glasses sit on your face, and you're wearing a loose-fitting red flannel shirt tied at the waist with a browny looking red shirt underneath. It's paired together with some black jeans and a pin tacked to the outer pocket on your flanno. The pin has your name on it surrounded by intricate metal flows and vines.

It reads "Hi! My name is Y/n."

"Hey, no, I'm all good, just browsing."

You nod softly with a small smile. You tilt your head back towards where you're loading a big box of books onto some of the smaller shelves designed for kids towards the front of the store.

"Let me know if you need anything."

Mary nods softly before moving to peruse one of the shelves in with it marked 'LGBTQIA+'.

The shelf is lined with varying titles and fronts. There's markers every few books. 'MLM' 'WLW' 'Bisexual Romance' 'Chaotic Ace' (That one makes her snicker a little) 'WLW Mystery' and many other categories. She picks out a title that sticks out to her. 'The Shattered Lands' by Brenda Nation. Perfect, that will do.

She peruses a bit longer in other sections but eventually makes her way to the counter where you pop out from your spot, loading books up.

"Ah, the Shattered Lands, that's a good read. From tiktok?" A little confused, Mary shakes her head.

"No, I.. I just thought it might be interesting." You raise your brow slightly. A smile pulls at your lips.

"I'm glad then. The only time anyone buys this one is if they're fans of the author from tiktok. It's nice to see someone pick it up for the genuine interest. It was a good one to read. If you have the time, there's a little reading corner just by the window if you like."

Mary glances over. It's a comfy little nook with couches and multiple cushions, both on the floor and on the seating. She is killing time at the moment, and she mentions as such, agreeing to stay for a bit to read the book. It was gonna be a few hours before she had to go get her car again. The mechanic said she'd call Mary when the car was fixed. She's lucky. She's got a few days yet before she has anything she needs to do urgently.

"Actually, I might take you up on that offer, I'm stuck here til my car gets fixed, so I've got plenty of time to kill."

You nod in understanding, "Make yourself comfy." As you gesture to the lounge area.

She manages to bury herself into the book for about an hour, various people coming and going, some regulars that she hears you greet with a warm smile and playful tone, most new customers travelling through looking for some quick picks to read on their travels, which you greet with a bright smile and help guide them to what they're looking for.

Eventually, though, she's left feeling a little stiff and eventually gets up to wander the shelves. She finds you reading a book yourself at the counter, having completed stacking any new deliveries for the day. You look up at her as she does so, eyes following her over the top of the pages.

"So what's got you coming through here? Travelling from home? Doesn't sound too much like you're from around this area."

Her eyes crinkle with a laugh as she approaches and sits on one of the stools placed underneath the countertop.

"No, I'm just in from Manchester, I live and work there for eight months out of the year, I am from Australia though, just moved for the job, I take it you were too?"

You nod, "Little podunk set of towns in NSW. Moved up north for the opportunity with a business partner of mine. Ended up owning this place instead. Plus, the women's soccer is nice to have available to watch."

Mary blushes a little at that. Did you know?

You chuckle a little, blushing a bit yourself, oops. "Yeah, sorry, I didn't wanna call you out like that. I knew who you were, just didn't wanna bring it up on you, keep work at work, that kind of thing."

She laughs at that, shaking her head.

"Honestly, thank you for that. It's nice to have a little time to myself without any professionalism. Don't worry, though. You had me fooled for a good bit."

Your eyes sparkle with a little playfulness. "Happy to be of service, m'lady." Before continuing. "How're you liking the book so far?"

Mary, to her credit, actually had been enjoying the book, but she couldn't sit still long enough to read anymore.

"It's been pretty good, I got up to the bit about Sapphire going to find the red-haired witch in the forest to ask about what she might know about her origins."

"Ah, you're in for a treat then. The book keeps you on your toes, though."

"Right? There are so many twists already."

"But I'm guessing you're getting a little fidgety there?"

Her nose scrunches up a little, and she sheepishly nods. "Not much of a sitter I've come to discover."

You nod, biting your lip a little. "Would you wanna take a walk around town for a bit? I've got a lunch break for an hour or so. I figured, since you've time and all."

You pause to wait for a bit before backtracking again, a little flustered. "Not that you have to, I just thought you might wanna get out of here for a bit. Come look at some of the cafes with me."

Mary smiles and nods a little more enthusiasticly than she likes. "Absolutely, of course, but I wouldn't want to take up your time."

"Absolutely not, I'm offering. I kinda wanna learn more about you."

She smiles back, nodding, and you begin grabbing your stuff before leading her out of the store and locking the place up temporarily with an "on break" sign posed in the window.

You walk beside her for a few blocks, chatting idly about the town and its aspects. "There's a few places I go to when I forget to buy food for work, which today happens to be one of those days."

You lead her to a cozy little coffee shop. Inside, it's a bit warmer, and the smell of brewing liquid life permeates the air. You nod at the barista working the register. "That's Em, my most likely future best man."

Emily looks up at you as you enter. "Look who it is, ratbag. In for the morning usual?"

You shake your head amused, "Yeah, Em, and another one for the new girl."

"Hi, how are you? I'm Emily."

"Hey, nice to meet you, I'm doing pretty good, keeping this one busy, it seems."

"I'm showing her the good places to hit up in town, just getting coffee first. How do you want your coffee?"

Mary gives her order to Em, who starts working on the two beveridges right away. As you wait, she asks about the reason in particular for this town.

"Cause she can't get enough of this!" Emily yells out from behind the machine.

You roll your eyes at the barista. "Nah, you're a pain in the ass."

"You love this ass."

"Too much sometimes, honestly, why are we friends again?"

She gives you a mock offended look, clutching at invisible pearls.

You chuckle and turn back to the striker beside you. "The opportunity was there. The place was cheap, and a quick fix. Plus, the people here are okay."

Emily interjects, waving you both over.

"Actually, the people here are really nice. This one's just an asshole." She winks at Mary as she says it.

"Don't listen to her. She's just jealous cause she can't get a date in a town with a population of two hundred."

Mary raises a brow at that.

"A date?"

You flush quickly realising what you said. "I mean, it was more of a-"

"Nice going sweetheart'."

You whip your head around at the girl behind the counter. "Shut up."

Mary's head tilts back in a laugh. "If you wanted this to be a date, all you had to do was ask."

Your mouth drops open at that, and Emily laughs at your expression. Mary smirks as she picks up her drink and walks to the door, gesturing for you both to keep moving.

"I like this one, keep her around for me!"

Em calls after you, and you turn to glare at the blonde.

This woman certainly has you on your toes.

Your cheeks are basically pinker than they've ever been but you follow regardless, a little sheepish if anything.

You rub at your neck as you both slowly stroll around the corner, away from view. "Sorry about that, I just kind of assumed and I-"

"Ask me."

You look up at her confused.

"Ask me, you want it to be a date, ask me."

Your bite your lower lip trying to hold back from a massive grin.

"Will you join me in this fine, fine hour and go on a date with me?"

"Nah."

Your head does a double take before the girl chuckles and shakes her head.

"I'm kidding, of course I will."

You sigh in relief. You didn't wanna miss this opportunity. She's gorgeous, she plays your favourite sport for a living, she likes to read and she lives relatively close to you. It's nice not to have to be stuck in a one sided long distance relationship. Woah, hold your horses, hasn't gotten that far yet.

"Great, then I've got a great place we can go to, just give me a few minutes while I go lock up for the day, a half hour isn't long enough to be honest."

You're gone for about ten minutes, and you come back to Mary back inside the cafe, chatting with your friend.

"Hey, sorry about that, ready to go?"

Mary nods, and Emily waves you both goodbye.

She slips her arm around yours. You're slightly shorter than her, so it's a little weird at first, but you eventually settle into the hold.

You both walk to another section of town. There, you bring her to a place that looks like a little sandwich shop with a massive arcade attached to it. You tell her about your first encounter here. The place looked decent and turned out to be pretty good. Good enough that you were back on the regular.

"Hey, Y/n, usual today?"

Georgie greets you from behind the register.

"Not today, I'm with someone for a few hours."

"Ah, gotcha. What would you like love?"

Mary hums for a second, browsing over the menu. You watch as she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth for a second, and you realise you're staring when she looks back at the cashier. "I'll have a number 12 and a water, please." "Coming right up, hon, and for you L/n?"

"I'll take a number 5 today, please."

"No mayo, extra pickles with a sunkist?"

"You got it."

"16 pound 50 today love."

You're quick to jump in and tap your card before Mary pulls her phone out. She pouts at you, and you chuckle. "I asked you out."

"Only because I told you to." You stick your tongue out at that cheekily. "I wanted to."

Your food comes quickly, and you find a table in the corner, away from the door and any large windows.

The food is amazing as per usual, and the look on Mary's face agrees with that from her first bite. The food is always good here.

"Good, right?"

She groans, "You're kidding, right? How do they make sandwiches taste so good?"

You chuckle and shrug, "No idea, must be that southern English love."

"I swear my nutritionist is gonna kill me, that and my bank account."

"Yeah, I tend to avoid this part of town most days because if I even get close to this place, I can't resist a good teriyaki chicken club."

You finish your food and drinks, and you pull her up with a giddy grin as you lead her into the arcade and grab a loaded up card from your pocket.

"The food is amazing, but the games are pretty close. Come on, I wanna see what we can win today."

You spend the better part of two hours in there, ranging from a basketball hoop shooter to the Mario Kart racer. Turns out, Mary is really good at arcade games. And it turns competitive quite a few times.

In the end, you come away with a combined 2000 tickets.

Which is honestly pretty good for two people in that amount of time. With that, you both pick out a few lollies and a stuffed bear in a soccer uniform, which you all too happily hand over to her. (*It may have cost a few thousand more than you actually earned, but she doesn't need to know that you dipped into your saved tickets for it*)

In the end, the date slows down to a slow stroll around town in the late afternoon. And it's only when she finally gets a call from the mechanic that it has to come to an end.

You walk her back to just outside the mechanics while she picks up her car and pays for the repairs. She's parked it just on the street outside the bookshop while you two talk for a bit.

"Guess this is it for the night, then?" You ask tentatively, shuffling a little.

Mary smiles softly and nods a little.

"Yeah, I have to get back to Manchester with this stuff. And I've got teammates waiting for me to get back as well."

You nod in understanding. You're a little upset about the date ending, but you don't show it.

"Thank you for agreeing to come out with me today."

"Hey, pretty girl asks me out, I'm not gonna say no. Besides, I'm definitely gonna be back. I wouldn't wanna miss out on a second date. And a chance to pay you back for the bear as well." There's a twinkle in her eye that says she damn well knows how much you spent on her earlier, and you blush a little.

"So there's a second date?" You ask with raised brow.

"If you'll have me."

"Without a doubt." You answer without hesitation. Mary grins and grabs your hands in hers. She pulls you into her, and you grin, leaning up. She meets you halfway with a soft kiss to your lips.

It sends tingles down your spine, and her hands running up and down your arms leave goosebumps in their wake, making you shiver a little.

It deepens for a second before you take a step back, stopping yourself from holding her hostage here any longer and going any further than you should.

"You're amazing, you know that?"

It has her grinning, and she scrunches her nose adorably. Her hand finds yours to squeeze it a few times before she presses one last kiss to your lips and bids you farewell.

"I'll message you soon, pretty girl, I want that second date I was promised."

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, drive safe, cutie."

She waves goodbye and drives off, heading in the direction of the highway, going back to Machester.

You can still feel the tingle of lips against yours, the feel of her fingertips on your skin, and it leaves you keening for more, despite her being long gone. You'd have to keep an eye out on your phone now.

As Mary's cruising along the highway, all she can think about is how your lips felt against hers. How you'd grinned at her when she'd pulled you in to meet her against the side of her car. How easy the two of you just settled into easy banter and how open you seemed to be with her. You were definitely someone she didn't want to let go of just yet.

[withacapitalp]

Seventh

Read it on ao3 here!

“You wanna tell me what that was all about?” Steve asked, sliding the glass door shut and cutting off the noise from the rest of the party inside. 

Erica stubbornly shook her head, crossing her arms and continuing to stare out into the wide open space of Steve’s backyard. Her jaw was clenched up so tight it hurt, and the concrete was cold against her legs. But she couldn’t move or go inside, because then she would have to face all the people she had just screamed at. 

Steve sighed softly behind her, a familiar sound that Erica was almost immune to hearing. Almost. It still kind of hurt to hear that disappointment sent her way. Normally he was just mad at the boys or annoyed by whatever bullshit Max wanted to pull that day. 

Today he was mad at Erica. Which was fair, seeing as she had just made a big fucking scene at his house. 

“What happened?” Steve asked softly, lowering himself down onto the ground and sitting cross legged on her left side. His tone was gentle, coaxing, like Erica was a child with a fever who needed to take medicine, and not a young adult who was completely overreacting. 

Not mad then. Worried. 

Even worse. 

Erica would have honestly preferred Steve was mad, because then they could both just blow off steam, and she wouldn’t be forced to explain the completely embarrassing reason she had just had an outburst. 

“They kept saying I was Seven,” She grumbled, hating Steve for being so fucking easy to talk to and making her open up. Steve didn’t immediately respond the way the rest of them would have, and when Erica glanced over, she saw he was deep in thought, trying to work out exactly why that might have upset her. 

That’s why they all liked talking to him. Steve always considered what was going on before making a snap decision. 

“It was just teasing. You never let that get to you. Besides we all know you’re twelve, Erica, not seven,” Steve finally said, clearly not understanding what exactly had set her off. 

He hadn’t heard the whole conversation. 

“They weren’t saying I was seven years old. They were saying I’m seven.” Erica paused here, hoping she wouldn’t have to say anything else. But, when it was clear it still hadn’t clicked, she gave a short irritated sigh and continued, “As in the seventh. Your seventh kid,” 

“Okay? Did you not like that they were saying that you were my kid? Cause I know we joke about me being mom a lot, but I know that you guys have actual-“

“No,” Erica cut him off, not even wanting Steve to start down that particular train. She bit her lip, closing her eyes and gathering up the courage to say what she actually needed to say.

“You wanted six. I’m the seventh.” Erica stated. 

An uncomfortable and heavy silence stood in the air between them as Steve registered what had been said and put the dots together. Erica waited, staring at the trees and willing herself to stay where she was. It would be easier to just get up and bolt, but no doubt Steve would chase her down and make her listen to whatever mushy thing he was going to say. 

“I’m gonna kill past me,” Steve groaned, burying his face in his hands and dragging his fingers down his cheeks, “Okay, first of all, that was something I said to Nancy in confidence, assuming there wasn’t eavesdropping,” 

“Stupid thing to assume. It’s us,” Erica replied, needing to put some of her armor back on. This was already too raw for comfort. 

“Second of all,” Steve pressed, ignoring her little interlude, “That daydream I had was for three boys and three girls. As far as I know I have three girls, so one of the boys is the extra. Let’s say Mike. Mike can be seventh,”

A giggle slipped out of her mouth without permission, and Erica pressed a hand against her mouth to hide her smile. Mike would be the one Steve would pick to be seventh in a lineup, just because they all knew how much it would irritate his stupid inflated ego.  

“Third of all,” Steve started, trailing off. His voice was soft again, low and sweet.

It was the same voice he had when he spoke to her in the hospital after the gates closed, when she had been sitting alone in the emergency room waiting for someone to show up. Steve had taken both of Erica’s hands in his own, neither of them fully able to ignore the blood sticking to their palms, and he told her everything was going to be okay. 

And everything was okay now. She was the one having a problem that wasn’t actually a problem in the first place. 

“Erica, I had that daydream when I was your age. My parents had just started leaving, going on business trips for days or weeks sometime. And I, well,  I was lonely,” Steve admitted. Now it was his turn to stare at the trees, a muted but deeply set pain sitting in every word. 

“I told myself when I got older that I wasn’t going to do that. I came up with this whole fantasy where things were going to get better, so I could focus on that instead of how shitty things were then”

Erica wanted to respond, wanted to say something, but she couldn’t get her mouth to open. She could see a young Steve sitting right where they were now, on the concrete by the pool. That Steve didn’t have someone to come out and check on him, someone to reassure him that he was loved and cared for. 

He had just had to deal with it all alone, and dream that maybe life had something better in store for him somewhere down the line. 

“So, if you think about it logically, that twelve year old kid who only ever wanted a big family who loved him just as he was got exactly what he was looking for,” Steve said, scooting a bit closer and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. 

Erica went easily, letting herself get wrapped up in a warm hug. Steve hugs, the best kind, cure for any and all problems. She would never say that out loud to him, she’d die of embarrassment, but thinking it was enough to make her bury her face against his chest.

“And getting to have a seventh kid that was his- a really special, really funny, kinda a smartass, but genuinely good, kid,” Steve said after a moment, pulling away just enough so that he could make sure she was looking him in the eye, “Well I think that twelve year old would know how crazy fucking lucky he was to get to love that seventh kid,”

A blooming warmth settled in Erica’s chest, slowly overtaking her body until she felt like she might be glowing. She knew that Steve loved her. That was obvious. Steve loved all of them. But knowing it and hearing it were two different things. 

“Wow…..that’s a lot of nice things to say about Mike,” She said, falling back into herself and leaving the safe little cocoon they had created. She didn’t need it anymore, she had her reassurances. 

“Mike?” Steve asked, not putting things together. Erica huffed out a soft laugh, grinning like the cheshire cat as she stood up and stretched. 

“Yeah, Mike,” Erica replied, “Seeing as, according to you, the seventh is Mike, not me.” 

A beat of silence, and then Steve was throwing himself backwards, falling flat on his back as he tossed his hands into the air

“Why do I even bother with you brats?” He groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes. 

“Because you love us,” Erica shot back, still all warm and wanting to just get to hear it again, “I’m gonna go inside now, tell him you said all that nice stuff about him,” 

“Don’t even think about it,” Steve said in a warning tone. Erica hummed, rocking back and forth on her heels for a second before shrugging. 

“No, I’m gonna. Bye Steve!” 

He was up in the blink of an eye, taking her bait and falling hook, line, and sinker. Erica ran farther into the yard, laughing with glee as he chased her around and around. 

[hetaliahyperfix]

Hetalia Headcanons: Nation Physiology- Immortality

There's been a lot of interpretations of the nations' immortality over the years. Some people believe that nations will permanently die from a regular mortal wound like any human would while others believe nations cannot be harmed at all.

Canon seems to indicate that the latter is more of the case, with the Hetalia Horror Show stating that Finland was unable to drown when he fell into a freezing lake, but was instead suffocating endlessly, unable to die (which is pretty horrific, if you ask me).

I personally have my own headcanons as to how their immortality works. Some of it aligns with canon, and some of it deviates a little. I figure its fine since everyone kinda picks and chooses which parts of canon they like.

So, here are my headcanons (tw: violence, death, disease):

Nations cannot die the way humans do. At least, not permanently. Honestly, the idea is kind of absurd. It is impossible for them to have survived as long as they have if this was the case. China alone is over 4,000 years old and has fought in tens of thousands of battles, yet I am to believe he has not once sustained a mortal wound? What happens to the PRC if its nation persona dies from being hit by a car while being distracted by playing a mobile game on his phone? In my interpretation, nations cannot permanently die from fatal wounds, diseases, old age, and whatever other stuff that kills regular humans.

Nations can temporarily die. While they can't permanently die from mortal wounds, they can temporarily. For example, if they are shot in the head, it will kill them. However, they will heal and revive.

Nations have supernatural healing. This actually seems to be canon, based on the comic of Prussia lying about when he injured his hand, saying it was recent instead of the real answer which was a week ago, implying that healing tends to be faster for nations. In my headcanon, the nation's ability to heal depends on how strong their nation is economically, militarily, and through their overall cultural influence on the world. Currently, America and China heal the most rapidly, both being superpowers, being able to regenerate entire lost limbs in mere moments. On the other hand, Iceland has a very small GDP, no military, and very little cultural impact on the world, so he would take at least 20 seconds to heal a simple stab wound. Naturally, this healing fluctuates with the nation's power. When America was a colony, it would have taken him several minutes if he wanted to regenerate a limb. Better to just reattach the limb and heal it that way.

If the body cannot heal, a new one will be created. For example, let's say a nation fell into the ocean and is drowning. They keep dying and reviving in an endless cycle. Eventually, either through their own choice, or the supernatural natural nature of their existence, that body will permanently die and a new body will be reborn on their nation's soil. This process takes at least 24 hours and depends on how strong a nation is. America and China could probably revive 24 hours on the dot. Meanwhile, Monaco could take several days. Nations do all they can to avoid this type of death because it is, at best, highly inconvenient and it can, at worst, single handedly screw things over for them majorly. Imagine being a nation at war and having your body blown up by a bomb. By the time you revive and then travel back to the battlefield, it may already be over. This was especially awful when travel was not fast and it would take months to get somewhere.

Nations do not scar the way humans do. A nation's healing, no matter how weak they are, is perfect. It may take a while, but their bodies will go back to the way they were, meaning no scars. For a nation to receive scars, it would be based on injuries received during significant national events, especially if they are violent. For example, the French Revolution was very significant in French history so, when France was beheaded, he had a permanent, faint scar around his neck even after he healed. When the Romanovs were shot dead, ending Imperial Russia's rule, one of the bullets that bounced off the jewels they were wearing hit Russia and left a permanent bullet wound scar. Basically, a nation can end up with a permanent scar by receiving the wound during a significant, usually violent, event in their history.

Nations do not get sick the way humans do. Nations are immune to getting illnesses the way humans do. If they are around people with colds, they'll never catch a cold. They also never get terminal illnesses like cancer. There's only two things that can get a country sick: poor economy and epidemics. Honestly, this seems to be canon. Basically, if a nation's economy is doing poorly, like during the Great Depression, they will get cold/flu-like symptoms. The other way they get sick is through epidemics. Essentially, if enough people in their nation are sick, their own bodies will reflect this illness. However, since they didn't catch the illness naturally and got it though their nature as a nation, they can only stop being sick when the epidemic is over. When a nation is sick, they cannot be cured through ordinary means, they can only use medicine to alleviate the symptoms. During the Black Death, the European nations all had the bubonic plague to varying degrees for years. In fact, the bubonic plague made various resurgences over centuries. Many of them have scars from when the pustules burst and just about every one of them was extremely traumatized by it.

Nations can be effected by other types of "epidemics." For example, during the Red Scare when everyone in America was living in fear of their neighbors being communists, America became very paranoid. During the Opium Wars in China, his body began to crave opium like an addict before he even touched the stuff because nearly all his citizens were addicted, causing him to be addicted before even using. India went through at least three major famines killing over 10 million people each time from 1769-1793, so he was always underweight and hungry even if he ate during this time period.

Nations are resistant to poisons and chemicals. It takes far more poison to kill a nation than a human, although you can do it if you use a strong enough poison. I read a headcanon once that China would calmly drink a poisoned drink in front of the person who did it, just to freak them out. He 100% would do this, no debate.

Nations are vulnerable to radiation. One of the few things they are vulnerable to. While they can endure it better than humans, it is still not good. Radiation works by killing cells, via preventing them from dividing. This disrupts their ability to regenerate, so they heal slower with it.

Nations age based on economic and cultural development. This one is kinda canon. Regular humans age by the year. Nations seem to age based on the development of their country. For example, America's economy grew far faster than Canada's, and there is even a strip showing a nearly adult America next to a baby Canada despite both being born around the same time. On the opposite side of the spectrum, we see that North Italy did not age from infancy for over a 1,000 years. He was alive to have known Ancient Rome, which means he would have been born, at latest 476 AD. He did not begin to age until the Renaissance in the 1500s. As an aside, could you imagine being a baby/toddler for 1,000 years? That's honestly sounds horrific. And, based on England's shocked reaction to America's growth, it seems spending several hundred years as a baby is the norm.

So, with all of this being said, how do nations die? Well, that will be my next post. This one is already long enough so I am going to continue in another post. I hope you enjoyed my first major headcanon post! Let me know your own thoughts in the comments below.

Next Part

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Fontaine archon quest has come and gone and I need MORE MOTH sob

NO BECAUSE ME TOOOOOO I NEED FOUL LEGACY TO HAVE MORE THAN LIKE 5 MINUTES OF SCREENTIME AUUGHHHH

imagine if you jumped into the Primordial Sea with the Traveler and Neuvillette, not to fight- the starving narwhal would consume you without a second glance- but because Ajax is in there, Foul Legacy is in there, and you're not about to let them go off and get themselves nearly killed like they have so many times before- honestly, what were they thinking?! your feet land on congealed water with a light splash, everything oozing and swirling and dotted with stars. it sticks to your shoes like gel, and your lip curls in disgust before your gaze wanders to a familiar shape lying in a heap, all violet and charcoal and night-colored with a pop of deep, rusted crimson

Foul Legacy whines as you dart over, gashes and wounds leaking dark, starry blood through his armor and stained on every talon. he claws at the quicksand water, forcing himself to move forward and collapse into your arms with a choked whimper, clinging to you like a lifeline. all you can do is drag him out of range when the narwhal bursts forth from the sea, silently watching the Traveler take up their sword- somehow it's not the most terrifying thing you've ever seen, but being a Harbinger's significant other often means life or death situations. Legacy jolts in your arms every time the narwhal lets out an echoing cry, hooking his claws on the edge of your shirt as he trembles, dry sobs coming from his throat when you kiss his forehead and tell him that everything's going to be alright, your fingers tracing over the rough, worn patches on his palms from days and days of grasping his polearm in desperate battle

[captain-mj]

i know you haven't written anything for them in awhile but i still love kraken!price and sailor!graves... could you maybe write price's mating season ending but graves wanting to stay with him? angst with a happy ending maybe

It's been like six billion years since then but you know what?? Fuck it.

Link to the Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Also, I could've swore I put this on ao3?? I went through everything I've ever posted and apparently not??? This has been bothering for hours now but it's clearly not there??

It ended. Price knew rather quickly when it did. He woke up and his insides no longer ached. The raw need to be fucking someone, anything, now nothing more than a faint want.

Two months. On the dot.

Which meant he no longer needed Graves.

Graves no longer needed to stay.

Price's heart hurt so fast and so much it almost knocked him down. He didn't want to let go of him.

He peered from the water to watch his lover Graves fixing up the little hut he stayed in. It was pretty nice honestly, especially after two months of him working on it. He also had softened a little, not longer needing to do the hard labor of being a sailor. His figure also had just softened and he had tanned so much.

Price wanted to wrap his tentacles around him and kiss his face and lick all over him. Maybe put him in his mouth like a piece of candy.

Did Graves want to stay though? Yes, Price could force him. Could never let him escape. He spoiled him anyway.

Graves turned around and beamed when he saw him. He quickly got in the water and started to swim out to him. Price started to back away immediately and Graves paused, bouncing in the water.

"John?"

Even the way he said his name! He said it with so much love. So much care.

"John! Don't make me swim out to you." He called to him, sinking deeper into the water. So trusting. Even though Price could rip him to shreds, especially since he didn’t need him anymore, Graves still trusted him.

Price started to back up more, retreating. His cycle was over. He needed a clear head.

“Thank you, sailor, for your assistance. It was greatly appreciated.” Price rose up, towering over Graves.

“Oh.”

Why did Graves sound so… small? Is it because he’s nervous about Price’s height? Did he feel the tension? The need to claim?

“I suppose you’ll be bringing me back then?”

“Exactly as I promised. Whole. Unharmed.”

Graves shook his head slightly, as if disagreeing. Price felt his worry spike and he immediately dissolved back down into proper Human size as he grabbed Graves.

“Did I harm you?” He had considered himself so careful. That despite the size difference and how fragile humans could be, it was fine.

Graves smiled. “No, lover boy. I’m unharmed. I just do not think I’ll return whole.”

Price frowned and pulled him a little closer. Their bodies fit together well. No matter how much Price shifted and changed, Graves always fit perfectly like be changed as well. Or maybe, Price always changed with him in mind. Funny thoughts.

“Let me return you.”

Graves grabbed him hard. “Wait. Were you planning on swimming all the way to my home? It’s across the ocean. I’ll either drown from going under or die from the sun. Maybe it would be better we wait? I’m sure a boat will pass by eventually.” Unknown to Price, Graves was fishing for more time. He needed to find a way to convince Price to let him stay forever. Or at least the courage to ask so he could be respected and move on.

Price nodded immediately. “Of course! I wouldn’t want to kill you after everything. It wouldn’t be upholding my promise.”

“Exactly!” Graves smiled, something about it fake. “Can I hold on to you for a bit? I’ll miss floating like this. I know the sun is out so it’s fine if I have to wait.”

Price would never deny him. He wrapped around him tight. It wasn’t like he was a vampire, the sun just made him itchy after a while. Relaxing into the gentle waves, they lulled them both. Price was careful not to ever fall asleep before, but he did this time. He made sure Graves was secured to his chest, face in his neck, before doing so.

Huge mistake.

Graves was fine of course but the itchy painful sensation was everywhere. It hurt and even though a boat came by, Graves insisted he stay to help him because he was a pain to take care of himself. When night came, he’d gently rub some kind of leaf that brought great relief to the worst of the places and kiss his cheeks.

“It’s called a sunburn.”

“Sunburn.” Price repeated.

“Exactly! It’s awful but we humans have plenty of remedies.” Graves gave him another kiss.

Price huffed. “Is the kissing part of it?”

“No. I just know I’ll miss kissing you.”

His heart hurt again.

They were stargazing. Between the two of them, they had a name for every star and constellation. Stories woven by friends and ancestors alike.

“That’s the Big Dipper. I’ve also heard it’s a bear with a long tail.”

“I’ve heard it’s a stingray that’s carrying the universe on its back.”

Graves loved that version. Price was rewarded with those giant blue eyes staring at him. Smiling. Soft.

It hurt.

A boat was coming, but Price needed more time. Maybe he could convince Graves to stay. So when Graves was asleep, he forced the boat to change her path and go else where. No where near his human.

And then he wrapped himself around Graves, ignoring his sleepy protests about the cold water. He kissed him until Graves was awake and took him on the soft sands of the beach. Didn’t stop until Graves was sobbing as the sun came up. Body spent and over sensitive and broken.

Graves made sure he kissed him before Price sank back into the depths of their little sanctuary. He didn’t go inside immediately. His legs shaking too much. Instead he made designs in the sand until he could stand up and limp back in.

Price watched him silently. Watched the quiet smile even as his body clearly hurt. Graves couldn’t properly mate him. They’d never be right. He didn’t even know how long humans live.

Still, he was perfect.

The third ship was undeniable. It sailed right to them and Graves spotted it immediately.

There was a quiet between the two.

“How should I handle this? I could bring you there and then put you on deck?”

“I’d be accused of devilry and killed.” Graves bluntly spoke.

“I put you near the ship and you pretend to be shipwrecked?”

“No other survivors? Suspicious.”

Price frowned. “You’re being… combative.”

Graves glared at him for a moment before sighing. “It’s nothing. I’m just being… i loathe to say it. I’m being sensitive. I knew this was two months. I just wished it was longer.”

“Oh?” Price glanced at him.

“Don’t worry. I know the deal. I won’t ask for more. But yeah, I wish I had more time with you.”

Price reacted fast. His tentacles wrapped around the incoming boat fast, crushing it. He crushed their lips together next and Graves kissed back just as roughly.

“Even though you weren’t in heat and therefore didn’t need it, I let you wreck me and it never occurred to you maybe I wanted to stay around??” Graves muttered into him.

“Never occurred to you that I fucked you outside of my mating season?”

Graves paused and recalibrated before biting Price’s lip. “Bastard. I hope they have those candies I like.”

“I’m going to spoil you.”

[charmac]

speaking of things that were brought up in the show once and then never spoken of again, im honestly astounded that the revelation that luther was sending letters to mac and dennis was destroying them has seemingly had no impact on the characters beyond tggth. ik the fans probably discussed it more when the episode came out (which i wasnt there for) but its such a huge reveal like…mac who is ignored by his father 99% of the time was actually receiving letters from him and both of his best friends knew and didnt say anything. id love to see that revisited.

Tbh I think that one’s definitely a dead and buried event as spoken between Mac and Dennis, but I definitely wouldn’t say it’s had no further impact on the characters.

Mac’s internal struggle with his dad loving him certainly continued, and from what I see, it was pretty heavily built off the basis of Dennis destroying the letters:

Mac’s ‘PTSD’ nightmares are between him killing his father, just as he hopes he’ll say he loves him, and Dennis making a move on him, finally returning physical affection. I’d say that’s a good idea of how Mac processed/was processing what Dennis did. Mac’s mind seemed to be rationalising that he would kill his father by his own hands if he had access to him. Dennis physically destroyed the possibility, ‘proving he loved Mac’ (and further in Mac’s mind, Luther would kill Mac, given the opportunity).

But then, Mac does ‘kill’ [his relationship with] his father by his own hands when he comes out to him. His father doesn’t want Mac’s true self, and won’t listen. So when Mac does have a way to express himself in return, it hurts him. (Again, further affirming himself that Dennis cut off a potential relationship to protect him).

Now what’s really interesting is that they chose to go with letters again, in connection with Mac’s father, they further cast GSC to play his Uncle, made him gay, and weaved the idea of Mac having kids into the play. Isn’t that just all, a lot to chew on…

Honestly it’s hard for me to properly space it out, so I hope the following makes sense (and I am responding to this while on NYC transit, but what better place to dump my brain out):

I think the letters from Luther to Mac being destroyed by Dennis was a solid base they continue to build around through now. I mean, it’s certainly no coincidence that they decided on letters to be his family legacy, letters his mother destroyed before Mac could read. And then it can’t be a coincidence that the last time Mac spoke to his father, the first time he spoke to him since he found out about his letters, he expressed he wanted Mac to have children, and now Mac is telling his Uncle who looks like his father that he wants these new (old) letters for his children (alongside the theme of ignoring a shared sexuality). That’s not a coincidence, I really hope it’s not.

So I think it remains unsaid between the characters for a few reasons. 1. The confessions from TGGTH went down with the ship for all of them (stuff it down with some brown, bury it under the booth, kick it under the kegs). 2. Mac sees it as a twisted act of love from Dennis, so why teeter with that? 3. It’s a base plot device they continue to build off of for now that, maybe, eventually they’ll address, if we ever work back around to another Mac finale (We can see a theme of things being unburied… Or they’ll just let the insane analysts like me draw dots and connect lines and spout my shit through the rest of time.)

Though those are just my thoughts, certainly RCG will have to talk about it when they get to Seasons 11-13 on the Podcast, so that’s something to look forward to in 2.5-3 years!

[constellations-gift172]

Feathers and Fur pt.1

Everything had always been normal. A normal world. Normal life. Normal toddler. Though by now that toddler barely remembers when things had ever been normal. The last thing he remembered outside of this hell he lives in, was his mother's screams when she saw the wings that sprouted from his back. He wasn’t normal. So they took him away. They were hidden. There had to be hundreds of them, but no one knew. All the kids inside knew was the treatment they had been given, and the training. They were meant to be super weapons for war. So when one was too weak, They would be killed off. This was all Zee had ever known. He had learned to get used to it. He got used to barely knowing any knowledge about the outside world, or even how it worked. Only being learned how to kill in the most effective ways, while nearly being killed himself.

Zee sighs softly as he enters what he was told was his bedroom, but it was more like a cell, after a longer training than he had hoped. Everyone else was already asleep. He sat on what was called a bed, but was just a mattress on the floor, with a few thin sheets as blankets as he looked at the blinding white of the rest of his room, that matched the uniform he was given, and his wings drooped ever so slightly.

then suddenly, a portal opened in the middle of his room. it was see-through, but slightly obscured what was on the other side. so he saw the blurry outline of a bedroom, and... a girl. she stepped through, who appeared to have.. wolf ears on the top of her head... she had two differently colored eyes, the right was white, with an odd, star-shaped pupil, and the other was blue, and a wolf tail to match her ears. freckles dotted her cheeks like stars. she tilted her head at him carefully, a curious, playful look in her eyes. Zee's eyes furrowed, and his wings puffed out slightly. cautious about the girl, though not hostile.

the girl only smiled and offered her hand for him to shake "Hi! I'm Chi. what's your dar??" her tail perked up a little, friendly, and curious about him. Zee's eyebrows furrowed slightly

"Sorry, my what..?" he backed away from her carefully.

she furrows her eyebrows, tilting her head slightly, one ear flopping as she did so. "your dar? gift from the stars..?"

he shakes his head quickly "Gift? No- no these are a curse!" he lets out a soft, dry laugh.

she blinks, before furrowing her eyebrows more, looking around, starting to realize how absurd the surroundings were. this- blinding white room, with nothing but a dirty, years and years old mattress on the floor, with old, ripped sheets... locked secure door, and a large window as the wall for the outer wall, showing a hallway full of rooms just like it, with more kids. most sleeping, getting ready for the long days ahead of them, dreading they aren't good enough to be kept alive.

she looks back at him "What is this place?"

Zee quickly shakes his head "Whoa- back up. Where did you come from?" he was so incredibly confused. he had never seen another person his age so cheery. the most cherry was the kids around 5, old enough to have almost forgotten how they were taken, but too young to really understand the gravity of their situation. plus, he had no idea where she had come from. for all he knew, this was a weird hallucination. he also still couldn't wrap his head around the whole "dar" thing.

the girl shrugs "Fair enough." she smiles "Another universe! I was in my high school dorm before now."

he shakes his head "No- no- that doesn't make sense. how is there... another... universe?"

she hums softly "It's hard to explain? honestly, I'm still new to it myself.."

he whines and looks down, shaking his head ever so softly.

"do... you want to come back with me?" when she said that, it shocked him. there was a slight hope in his eye, that this could be better than what he had. but also... if things were this bad here, how much worse could they be out there? but... what could be worse than this? maybe.. he would just check things out. see if things were safe for everyone else. he would have to come back for them though...

he nods, ever so carefully. She grins and offers her hand, her tail wagging.

he takes it softly, and the first thing she notices is how rough, and callaced his hands were. like he had been a blue-collar worker for 40 years. "I'm... Zee.."

she smiles warmly, and takes him through the portal, which feels like walking into the freezer section at a Costco. a cold chill across his body.

stay tuned for pt 2!!

[alexanderlightweight]

hello hello

I know you only posted it to a03 last night, but I would love to see more from "marriage of inconvenience." 💛💛💛

you're not the only one <3 and i'm glad so many people like it! I realize now that I could have just combined all the prompts for more marriage of inconvenience but that honestly didn't occur to me.

so I'm writing separate ones for each! i hope you enjoy and thanks for the prompt

so there is a piece that goes before this in alec's pov

there and now this

--

Magnus is seething especially because he suddenly realizes that Alexander doesn’t know who Clary is, not as much as he should for someone he was expected to marry.  At the very least, Alec should have had a dossier. 

“Do we need to pick up your things? A go bag? Anything for my handsome eloping shadowhunter?” 

“Ah-” And under him Alexander is blushing but he’s grinning as he says, “I may have burned most of my wardrobe. In a completely accidental fire that took out my wall and caused Clary and I to be moved to opposite sides of the Institute.” 

Alexander looks smug as he says it and Magnus rewards them both with a kiss. Because every time Alexander opens his mouth he gets more and more delightful and Magnus needs him to stop before Magnus doesn’t let either of them leave bed.

Ever.

“It sounds horrendous.” And Magnus wants to know every bit, especially since Jocelyn conveniently never mentioned a word that she was returning to shadowhunter life and the shadowworld.

And neither has Dot.

Alexander seems to get that because he gets this distant look, like he’s going over something only he can see. Magnus gives him time, smoothing out the little creases on Alexander’s brow when he thinks too hard for a moment.

“Jocelyn Fairchild arrived at the Institute six months ago. She requested to speak to Hodge Starkweather who is a known Circle member and when I alerted the clave, the entire Institute was put on lockdown. When we came out of it, Jocelyn had a position of power in the Institute. Not a commander, but high enough and my parents came back to make sure she wouldn’t make a permanent grab for power. And then Jace and Clary found out they were siblings and ruined my life. Because Jocelyn and my parents decided to consolidate power and Clary was apparently so heartbroken over Jace being her brother, that she agreed to it.”

“Ruined your life?” Magnus asks, because Alexander really does look and sound incredibly frustrated.

“After they forced the engagement I had to play nice with Jocelyn because of the clave and because of my family. But Clary is an impudent, disrespectful, reckless, insubordinate toddler. Magnus three of my personally trained people were injured because of her antics. And Jocelyn and Jace would dress me down, like it's my fault Clary throws herself at danger. Because the only thing that Jace and Jocelyn can agree on is that Clary is perfect and needs to be protected and nothing is ever her fault and I’d better be a good husband or else.”

“You’d better only be my husband, or else.” Magnus promises and Alexander grins up at him in delight.  

“You’d kill anyone who looked at me?” Alexander asks, like it’s even a question.

“Obviously.” Magnus says and then he’s saying nothing much for a good few minutes as Alexander sloppily but eagerly kisses him.

“And what do you think I’d do if you looked at someone else?” Magnus asks when Alexander finally drops back to the mattress, breathless and hazy eyed.  Magnus finds that he’s curious for the choice in criteria and Alexander scoffs and gives him an incredulous look. 

“Magnus, why would I look at anyone else when I can look at you?” 

And Magnus finds himself flustered as he looks down into earnest, soulful eyes that are gleaming with overwhelming sincerity.

[crazylittlejester]

Coming over here to bother you about my EAH AU thoughts because I want to write but this stupid fatigue wall let me write my daily prompt and nothing else today. Spent a good chunk of time staring at the document file.

I'm thinking about the Zeldas. Obviously most of them will fit in as the miscellaneous princesses for their respective Links, but not all of the stories even have princesses in them.

Artemis/Athena: Obviously I could just have her be Athena, but I feel like she could also do a Mulan story. She could match with Warriors, they could be Greek mythology buddies.

Flora: I think the thing that really sets her apart is her role in TotK, but there aren't any old fairytales about princesses that turn into dragons, so the best I've got is this book by E. D. Baker that I read when I was a kid. It's probably close enough? I'm already going to have to fudge things for Wild anyway.

Sun: Her whole thing is being the reincarnation of Hylia, so I feel like she should be either a full-on mythological goddess or the avatar of one. I feel like there aren't really any good real-world mythology equivalents because LoZ lore has such a distinct vibe to it. Since Sky's story is going to be about fighting the Jabberwocky, she's probably also from Wonderland, I just need to figure out her role.

Fable: I feel like she'd fit into one of the Charming families alright. Alternatively she could be one of the princesses from Oz, most likely Gayelette if she's related to Legend because they both would inherit magical abilities and Gayelette was both a princess and a sorceress. No clue how that's going to work with Camelot. Maybe Legend could have dual citizenship or something. Although I could be mean and say she's a human princess who fades into obscurity because he outlives her.

Dusk: I can't find any good old fairy tales about princesses that involve puppets or wolves. I'm probably going to have to fudge the entire thing. Which shouldn't be horribly difficult since TP is literally just a fairytale anyway, but I was really hoping to find something.

Tetra: Definitely a pirate. Probably Blackbeard or Bluebeard. Maybe one of those lady pirates that were 100% lesbians. (Side note: The Great Sea could totally be the ocean that Atlantis is under. Wind's divine parent could be one of the gods that sunk it or something.)

Dawn & Aurora: I feel like being miscellaneous princesses actually works in their favors because that's pretty much what they are in canon. I can probably just gloss over the details a little bit and say they're cousins and that Hyrule helped rescue them while he was out killing giants.

Dot: I'm just going to say she's the princess from the story about the four brothers since it fits perfectly. Least amount of work to give her a role. Honestly sort of wish she could be Dorothy from The stories about Oz because of her nickname, but that wouldn't work. She deserves a QPR with Four so that's what she's getting.

Lullaby: I don't think she really does much in OoT other than be Sheik? So my best idea is Mulan, but with the whole ocarina thing she could also be a type of magical princess like Fable, but those are in surprisingly limited supply.

Honorary mention of ST!Zelda: She should be a ghost. A victim of train assassination, maybe Orient Express style. Ends up befriending ST!Link and they get along like a house on fire and she helps him get used to being a ghost after he dies in a tragic train accident.

- A MULAN STORY OH MY GOD THAT SOUNDS AMAZING FOR ATHENA/ARTEMIS

- I am still so so so so so obsessed with Sky and the Jabberwocky I am absolutely just eating that up dude, and I can’t wait to see what you end up deciding for Sun

- A PRINCESS SORCERESS FOR FABLE GOES SO HARD and you’re right that is mean >:( im eating it up tho

- I suppose red riding hood wouldn’t work for Dusk? There’s gotta be SOME fairy tale about wolves out there, I dunno the rules of EAH but there’s gotta be at least some vague one

- YEAAAAAAAH LESBIAN PIRATE TETRA MY BELOVED 😭

- Dot as Dorothy would be soooooo good, and slay her havin a qpr with Four

- Any Mulan story I see I will absolutely eat up and encourage, that’s one of my favorite Disney movies

- ORIENT EXPRESS STYLE. I LOVE IT.

dude i am so excited for all this I love it soooo much!!! please come bother me about it whenever!!