#i hope that image description looks alright... there was a lot to describe

[onefey]

prediction/concept for pokémon legends: z-a! it was supposed to just be a doodle but it GOT AWAY FROM ME...

since fantina is french (yeah i know she's american in the jp version) and jupiter didn't get a proper ancestor in legends arceus, i thought it'd be fun if they had a shared kalosian ancestor! plus, of course, jupiter's ace pokémon in fantina's type. lots of purple in this art 🤔

[starsofang]

Dear Angie I think I have scared a lot of people today because of the shriek I made when I saw the update and all the other ones I made through reading the chapter while I was standing in line with my friend so she could have a book signed by an author, some people lokked at me with funny faces and my friend now has a bruised in her arm because I gripped it so hard to shake her.

But we'll to the important part the chapter, first, I fucking hate Graves your description made me freaking gag I hope he dies a horrible death the one that Price said seems fitting.

Now, I can not talk about this chapter without going through it chronologically because so much happened in it. “Dove, it’s okay. Just listen to my voice, alright? I’m right here.” Gaz, being the first one to talk to her, makes so much sense because to me, he seems the most love struck by her. “The telescope,” Ghost said, voice low. “He’s talkin’ about the telescope.” How did Ghost know? Does he know what the poem means? Has he told Price or not? Or maybe Graved talked to him in his head earlier? I hope it's the last one. “Don’t fuckin’ talk to him,” Soap hissed, scowling. You say it to him, Johnny, defend your boyfriend. You instantly shifted your eyes to look at Gaz, ... You knew why he was having a hard time—you gifted the telescope to him, ... It was something he treasured, something he didn’t want to let go of. My poor Gaz, I can't, I'm going to steal it from Graves just to give it back to you, my baby boy. “Attagirl,” he praised, calming your nerves. Price you call me that again and I'm going fucking feral I'm a sucker for that pet name. “It’s my fault she’s marked. So long as she gets fixed up, I could care less about bein’ thrown into a cell. I’m with Price,” he finished. GOD, I'M A SUCKER FOR THESE INTERACTIONS, MY FAVOURITE EMOTIONAL CONSTIPATED BABY IS TRYING HIS BEST GIVE HIM A GOLDEN STAR.

Now now now now the Price kiss is just the best, I cant stand it, all that dialoge, how you described the kiss (I supposed that it was her first so I missed that it wasn't awkward but it was amazing best). “I am not an emotional man,” he murmured quietly, seeming just as unsure as you were. “I make very stupid decisions and take paths I shouldn’t take. One of them is tellin’ me to kiss you, and I’m not sure if that’s alright.” Well, man, let your intrusive thoughts win already. KISS HER PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU. “Gaz tried to when I gifted him the telescope,” yeah... try... I don't know who fault that was right, Angie. “I hope that is okay.” Darling it is, they are all fucking each other. Price broke out into a smile, huffing out a breathy laugh. “So long as he did not beat me to it.” Angie, I know you remark this so many times, so we remember what we could have had, but that you take it away, and I don't know how to feel.

I hope that Gaz and Soap are the first thing that Y/N sees when they wake up. I need some time with them because he haven't had time with the reader.

Now, this fun fact is accompanied by an image of how I imagine Price's quarters. So the fun fact is that the beds in any ship are built in the walls so they don't move because imagine being in a ship with a normal bed, it would end in the other end of the room, so that way is less dangerous. And from the medieval era to the early 20th Century the closet bed (witch is just a bed built in a closet) was surprisingly popular across Europe. I suspect that the fact that the beds in the ships are built like that comes from the closet bed, but I haven't really looked into it or researched it.

This is what a bed in a ship used to look like.

They were normally individual, even the captain's one. But because Price is fucking massive (like the other three) and for future parts of the story 👀 I changed it for a double bed with a more intricate wood work (I headcanon that his ship is his pride and that even if it is small it is really beautiful and gorgeous). So this is the one that I imagine.

And for the layout of his quarters, I imagine it like this.

The bed would be at the right of the desk, and the rest for me is perfect for him. At this point, I'm just going to make a Pinterest board with all my references photos because they are a lot.

To finish, thank you for the early chapter. You feed us extremely well, and we appreciate it, love you so much 🩵💖🩵

PLSSS DON’T TRAUMATIZE YOUR FRIENDS (that’s so me tho, i do exactly that when a fic i love is updated LMFOAOS)

i said this in another ask, but i had to make graves a nasty freak because unfortunately, his game character is one i like even if he’s a bad guy 😫 had to do it for my sanity

gaz is 100% the most lovestruck and much more open about it, he’s a very gentle lover imo. all of them (ghost is a progress) have a very special feeling thing going on, it’s all different but in their own lil ways.

my thought process with ghost knowing about the telescope is that he knows the prophecy like the back of his hand, given that it’s detrimental to him. the verse in the prophecy about a looking glass for ocean eyes is 100% what he first thought of graves wanting, and the telescope is pretty important in the prophecy. it was more of a ‘he immediately knows’ kinda moment since he has the prophecy engraved in his head.

“they’re all fucking each other” goodbyeeee that line had me on the floor

y’all were mad about the almost gaz kiss but price got it instead 😜 a win in my books

the BED!!! hello, i absolutely can envision his bed/quarters looking like. i 100% agree with you on the fact he takes pride in his ship, because that’s ALL he has, that’s his entire life, and hello they’re pirates obviously there’s thievery going on for them to have the funds to do it. UGH those pictures are so pretty, i’m absolutely going to imagine that now every time i write about it. if u make a pinterest board i HAVE to see it.

MWAH I LOVE YOU, THANK YOU FOR YOUR LOVE AS ALWAYS POOKIE

[splattergai]

Hi there. Again. I'm the one who requested the furina pack and the kirara pack. I'm here once again because... idk. It's kinda nice having a larger system (to a extent--we have like 30? Around that), especially with headmates that are more defined because we have a hard time getting defined headmates when we don't use headmate packs a lot of the time for some reason.

Anyways.

I hope it's alright if I ask for two in the same ask. Both are from the same source.

First-- Hyouta Ashikaga from Pretty Boy Detective Club.

https://nisioisin.fandom.com/wiki/Hyouta_Ashikaga

Specifically the Manga adaptation. (At least appearance wise)

You don't need to go digging too far--what's on the wiki page should be sufficient. You're welcome to if you want to though!

Just one thing here: there's a part in there about him being uhhh..... interesting... (in the sense that he likes to look up girls skirts????) Yeah please don't include anything related to that. Just. For everyone's comfort.

Then also-- Mayumi Doujima, also from the same source.

https://nisioisin.fandom.com/wiki/Mayumi_Doujima

Appearance wise, probably the anime adaptation.

Same things apply as before--wiki should give sufficient info.

Please, for both, include at least one alternate name as we may not feel comfortable making a headmate with a Japanese name as we are not Japanese.

And, if you feel like it, including some aldernic labels would be nice.

It's alright if you don't want to do this request though! It's up to you.

Thank you regardless :3

Hyouta Ashikaga (Pretty Boy Detective Club) Fictive Pack!

[ PT: Hyouta Ashikaga (Pretty Boy Detective Club) Fictive Pack! /end PT ]

Note: Headmate may not form exactly as described. Anything can be changed to fit your system.

Dividers by @/anitalenia [ Tumblr ] Left Photo by Anthony Melone on Unsplash Middle Image from the manga Right Photo by Nadine Shaabana on Unsplash

Name (+ Sign-Off): Hyouta, Liam, Kai (⭐️🖊️)

System: Syskid/Systeen

Species: Human

Age: 12-14

Pronouns: he/him

Gender: Demiboy

Attraction: Heteroflexible

Other IDs: Combmardernic, alderstarpupil

Likes: Running, sports, mysteries, puzzles, detective work

Dislikes: Wearing long pants, being babied, authority

Description: Very cheerful and energetic. Very much a morning person, likes to get up with the sun to start his day. Likes to run or jog a lot, and (if applicable either in headspace or in outerworld) often goes on long treks around an area. Watches sport shows as much as he can. Doesn't take to authority figures well, doing typical tween-boy type rebellious acts such as pranks and refusing to take orders (unless bribed). Very friendly towards other people, but if he does not like someone, he will let them know.

Mayumi Doujima (Pretty Boy Detective Club) Fictive Pack!

[ PT: Mayumi Doujima (Pretty Boy Detective Club) Fictive Pack! /end PT ]

Dividers by @/strangergraphics-archive [ Tumblr ] Left Photo by Diego PH on Unsplash Middle Photo from the anime Right Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash

Name (+ Sign-Off): Mayumi, Comet, Lune (☄️🔭)

System: Systeen

Species: Human, galaxykin

Age: 14-16

Pronouns: she/her, star/stars, ze/zem

Gender: Transtidal cisfem spacegirl

Attraction: Bi-

Other IDs: Alderstarzite, univernic

Likes: Space, stargazing, worldbuilding, quiet areas, nighttime

Dislikes: Light pollution, being complimented, beauty

Description: Star can be moody and gloomy most of the time, and has a pessimistic mindset when it comes to most things. While she doesn't mind having others around, ze doesn't mind being alone, either. Ze enjoys worldbuilding in stars free time, and has a whole binder of stuff she's working on. Has an extreme passion in all things space-related, and wants to live in an area where she can clearly see the stars. Sometimes thinks about what other things are out there, and wants to see them someday.

[cipher-fresh]

hi! i hope it’s okay to ask this, but i’m trying to write alt text for pictures i include in my own posts and i’m not super sure how to. i’m just kinda worried i’ll fuck it up lol. i see u write image IDs often, so do u have any advice? thank u!!

Hi! I’m delighted you’re asking, I’m always glad to see more people regularly describe images on tumblr.

You don’t need to know every single detail about a post to give a good image ID, just the gist so people understand is fine. I describe a lot of images from TV shows where I don’t know the locations or characters, but usually the dialogue is the most important thing so I focus on what the point of the image is when transcribing.

Phrasing posts can usually feel awkward, I’ve started a lot of IDs like “A screenshot of people standing by a table talking, dialogue reading [something]” but it gets easier to phrase it over time.

One image ID is better than none, even if you’re not describing posts super often, looking through a post’s comments for an ID and reblogging that is really nice. If you want to reblog from a mutual who is reblogging a thread of a post without an ID or want to preserve another comment, you’re welcome to copy and paste other people’s ID’s.

If you’re putting a description in alt text, it doesn’t need an ID introduction, but if you’re putting it in the body of the post (generally preferred), having an ID introduction like ‘image description:’ is suggested, or the ID may look like a comment on the post instead of what the original image says.

I’ve made occasional mistakes when doing IDs, but my other image describing friends usually help me out and tell me when I make typos.

Since I’ve started writing image IDs I’ve tried to be on top of making sure I don’t post undescribed images on my original posts. I usually hold off on posting images to my own posts if I haven’t described them. I didn’t start describing posts until a year and a half ago so I have a lot of old original posts with undescribed images that I’ll find and add descriptions to if I feel they’re worth a reblog.

Asking the OP of a post for details about how to describe an image is also advised if you’re not sure. And it’s alright if you’re not able to get to every post, I know I haven’t.

There is a Google doc of image descriptions for popular meme templates floating somewhere around here, if I find it I’ll link it in a reblog.

Thank you for asking!

[alonfic]

second nature

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x reader genre: college + bff to lovers au | fluff, pining pining pining wc: 4,767 description: love is complicated; it tends to bloom in desire, in impulse. sometimes you just need to stop the overthinking and just do. in other words, you’re hopelessly in love with your best friend and decide to take matters into your own hands. author’s note: completely self-indulgent. i just wanted a scene where mc jumps into kuroo’s arms and kisses him after a win. sue me.

People do stupid things when they’re in love. You don’t know who said it, if this is some universal conclusion, or maybe Hercules’s Megara is a love genius who you should take notes from. Then again, she did twice, and was saved by her destined lover the second time around. You aren’t all that sure this is a fate prescribed to you by the stars nor is it one that you want for yourself, but it makes you wonder if your love life would be easier if it could have that Disney-esque theatrics just for a happy ending.

Then again, you don’t think Disney has any love stories about best friends turning into lovers, just strangers to lovers. But how do you fall in love with someone you haven’t spent years together cultivating memories with? How do you not look back and smile at the stories of chasing fireflies in the summertime or running from the ocean’s kiss because it’s just a tad too cold even in the late spring? Could it be possible to imagine a love built out of the blue?

Perhaps that part of unexpectedness could be the suspect. Being around him is comfortable; easy as breathing. He’s always been there, always a faint image in the back of your mind as you walk down memory lane, and still there as you walk down this strange path of adulthood. He’s never one to push too hard or let you fall without reaching a hand out to hold you steady.

In truth, you don’t think about loving your best friend. At least you try not to at first. It isn’t something you’re supposed to do or anything that could proceed painlessly, and you’re no masochist. Maybe you are. Wouldn’t you have extracted yourself from the situation sooner if you weren’t?

Then again, you didn’t choose to love him one morning, it just happened.

/

You consider ignoring Kuroo when it happens. Or if there’s any chance of going back.

It isn’t anything against him because you obviously wouldn’t feel the way that you do if you considered him a shitty person. But that’s the problem. Well, not the problem, more like the reason. The heart of your pining has always been a consistent figure. A loving one that has always had your back even when you both were kids; him the notoriously shy boy who clung to his father’s leg when you and your mother first stopped by, and you the painfully hard-headed one who lacked control when you came bounding up to him with the intent of friendship.

Funny how things seem to take on a reverse effect as he approaches you in the same confidence. His smile unaltered by the slight changes in you, how you tense up ever-so-slightly and squeak affirmations when he mentions going out later that night as a treat for surviving midterms. It shouldn’t mean anything more, really, these are normal interactions for you both. The small celebrations are your favorite things to do, so you hope it doesn’t feel weird when you say yes and he looks at you like he’s over the moon kind of happy.

You don’t say a word when his hand is on the small of your back in the slightly crowded ramen shop. It’s been a longtime favorite of your and his, and surviving the quarter is a celebration in and of itself. Everything is normal. These things, like guiding you to a table, are normal. Your hyperfixations on them are hardly normal though.

Was he always this touchy? Of course, you ponder this. It’s your brain wondering and hoping to figure out what the motivations of these actions are even if he’s done them before. He’s always been keen on physical touch with you. Ever the one to wrap an arm around your shoulders while you two walk around shopping centers or the park to keep potential intruders away and to keep you from getting swept up in the crowds. Sometimes holding your hand when things get tense and he wants you to know he’s there. They’re normal for him by all accounts, and there hasn’t been a time where any of that has felt out of place, at least until now. And it isn’t because of him, it’s you.

If you had an allowance to dream and believe in your idealistic side, this would be a new beginning and his way of easing you into intimate gestures. You don’t though. Your realistic side won’t let you. He just doesn’t make it very easy on you as he sits in front of you under very grainy incandescent lighting—the very non-ideal kind to consider one’s love for somebody—and still manages to get you feel the same things you had when you awoke to him cooking breakfast in your kitchen after a late night study session. The very stupid morning that brought you to this conclusion.

When he says your name, you realize the server is there. You’re naturally a little embarrassed because you haven’t even had a chance to glance at the menu, still a little more spaced out than usual, though it shouldn’t be that big of a problem. You already know what you want, and so does Kuroo. 

He jumps in and asks if you want your usual choice, to which you simply nod so he can tell the server who leaves just as quickly as they had come. Kuroo looks like he wants to say something, probably ask about what’s going on with you, but instead something else catches his eye.

He leans over the table and his fingertips find some stray locks of yours dangerously trying to kiss the corner of your lip. His fingertips graze your cheek rather slowly. Painfully slow, even. It doesn’t help the sweat on your palms or the pounding of your chest. Hell, your heart feels like it might fall out if he continues going at such a snail’s pace, but eventually he gets the strands behind your ear.

He smiles at you again, and this time you know it’s all over.

There is no going back.

/

“You’ve been ignoring me.”

You almost deny it altogether, almost. But this is Kuroo. You know better than to try and lie to the boy you’ve known since middle school, the same boy who knows when something’s wrong before you even have a chance to register that something’s wrong. It sometimes makes you want to curse at him and wish this whole thing would just come to a halt instead of continuing on this weird precipice of change. But you stop yourself and step aside so he can enter your apartment, making his way through the long hallway and turning right to take a perch on the barstool at your kitchen isle.

He’s right anyway. It’s been days since you realized your feelings and even more since you two went out to get ramen together. But you’d be damned to admit the truth.

“Been busy.” You settle on this because it’s a safe answer, at least relatively so, though he hardly looks even the slightest bit convinced. The fact that you lean on the opposite side of the granite countertop is enough to solidify his doubt, but you decide to play the fool anyway. “What?”

“Are you alright? Have I done something to upset you?” Kuroo asks this genuinely, and you can tell most definitively by the slight crease in his brow and the small line his lips have become. It isn’t a frown by any means, it’s his pensive expression. He must be trying to think back on anything he’s either said or done in the past couple of weeks, but you know he wouldn’t be able to guess it.

Not that “it” is all that major. How do you even describe the sensation of falling in love with your best friend? How do you even dare face them after you’ve done it? And where do you even go from there when it’s happened? These are the things you’ve mulled over; they’re also the things that have stopped you from immediately treating your friendship with Kuroo like business as usual. You don’t think there’s any going back once you say something. No matter the times you’ve imagined what could happen or what it would be like to cross that bridge, a bit of reality grounds you from all impulsive acts.

Of course, you would love to just kiss him and run your hands through his beautifully soft sable hair. You wouldn’t hesitate to finally tell him your feelings if you didn’t think there was anything to lose or if you weren’t in the right state of mind, at least there’s the cushion of not caring and simple selfishness in all of that. It takes a lot to shake it all out of your head, at least to just try to, as he watches you in that unnervingly analytical way.

“Are you sure I haven’t done anything?” You can tell he’s trying to probe now, perhaps hoping for an opening to atone for any misgiving he might’ve done without realizing. His voice is soft, comforting. “If I did, I really am sorry.”

You shake your head again, this time for him and his question. You’re starting to feel a little bad for keeping this from him. “You haven’t done anything, I promise. I’ve just been preoccupied with some things. It’s getting better, so really, no need to worry.”

You hope the half-truths are enough to keep his interrogative questions and inquisitorial stare at bay. At least enough to change the subject, he’s the one who called about coming here, after all.

“If you’re sure?” He tries once more, just to give you an out. It isn’t like you to keep anything from him, and he knows this, but you can’t help but want to keep this one thing under lock-and-key. At least for now, or forever.

You nod. “What’s up anyway?”

“Well, I’ve been missing my best friend like crazy since someone’s been ghosting me for the past two weeks.”

The emphasis on ‘someone’ makes you snort, just a little and only for a moment because he shoots you a playful glare. You hold your hands up in surrender in hopes of spurring the conversation forward. Just because you wanted to avoid him to keep the truth under wraps doesn’t mean you haven’t missed the cheeky bastard.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, with a faint smile. “Has it been that hard without me?”

“The hardest! Kenma’s sick of me, you know. Him, I’m used to wanting to keep me away. But you? That’s a different playing field.” It’s all in a playful jest, of course, and whatever the case may be for you, you know that Kuroo doesn’t mind. He knows it would be for a good reason, even if you don’t think this is all that good of a reason to try and push him away. It’s a hard thing to do when it’s clear that he has no intentions of being set aside, and how can you, given the history here?

“Is there anything I can do to make it up to you, o’dramatic one?” Of course, you’ll play it off, just to see the toothy grin on his lips, and watch the light dance in the hickory of his eyes as he considers his next quip. You wonder if he’ll have you do something stupid just to make up for the sudden separation, although you’re grateful that he’s a more benevolent schemer where you’re concerned. You expect him to charge you a free coffee or something.

“Come to my game on Saturday, please,” Kuroo coughs the last word, as if it might be painful for him to say, or maybe he’s trying to play off sounding forceful, which has never been his forte.

You can’t help but smile albeit confused at the sudden news when it feels like it’s been ages since his last high school game. “A game? With who?”

“It’s just a reunion game against Karasuno, since it’s a rare occasion where we all happen to be free at the same time, and you know us. We’re always hankering for another Battle at the Garbage Dump.”

Before you can say anything, he adds, “If you love me, you’ll come!”

You probably miss the way he looks at you a little more longingly than he once did, as if there’s something he means in these cheeky words. They should mean nothing more than provocations, a mild itch of guilt tripping, but only in good nature. It couldn’t possibly mean anything in the way that you’re hoping. No, not at all.

You know he only means it all in a lighthearted way, but you can’t deny the way your heart seems to rumble with a very distinct sound of early springtime thunder and you feel the back of your throat go dry. Of course, you can’t deny this truth, not even when it’s disguised like this. And anyway, who would you be if you missed out on one of his games?

Of course, you’ll go. 

/

When Kozume calls you over, you already know it’s a mistake to oblige.

The moment you get there, he’s playing a game though he pays a little more attention to you when he sees how much you tense up at the sound of Kuroo’s name. It’s enough for the conversation to completely focus on the former Nekoma captain, and you’re almost certain you want to go home already. If anything, you might be able to cite that you had some homework you need to sort out before the big game.

“You shouldn’t keep lying to yourself. Plus, I know you finished all your homework so you wouldn’t be distracted for the game,” Kozume points out, shooting you a brief pointed look. “You’ve been avoiding me too, you know.” 

And this is why: visiting Kozume means speculations, and speculations means hopes, and those mean disappointments because reality is just that cruel. You tell him so in your apology, even when he pointedly ignores the question and instead asks you one.

“When do you think you’ll tell him?”

You look at him incredulously. “Why would I do that?”

The sheer idea is preposterous; confessing to Kuroo might invite trouble for the two of you and the state of your friendship. Sure, you tried ignoring him and seeing if that could help, but that was a bust. Telling him would probably be even worse. Probably the worst thing you could do in this situation. Is it even possible to be okay after confessing to your best friend?

“You’re both idiots who deserve to be together. Why else would I ask?”

He isn’t even looking at you as he says any of this, instead focusing his attention on the characters in his game. His own little fantasy. A part of you is envious of the escapism, wishing for a bit of that for yourself at the moment. At least you can forge a love story from camaraderie there, and in a game world like that, it’s acceptable. Loving your best friend in the modern reality? Not so much.

You’re a little confused at Kozume’s wording. What was he trying to say? Kuroo liked you back? The thought makes you shake your head.

“Easier for you to say,” you roll your eyes at him, certain he hasn’t seen it, but he clicks his tongue at you anyway.

“If you did something, or let yourself do something, life would be so much easier for the both of you.”

“You say this with the assumption that he feels something too,” you point out, still in disbelief. After all, why would Kuroo love you back as more than a friend?

“Why do you even love him anyway?”

You can’t help but reply so nonchalantly when it’s the first thing that comes to mind. “Why not?”

There are many answers to that question, probably more than you care to admit, let alone to Kozume. Even without meeting his eyes or saying a word about any of it, he seems to know already. It’s unnerving. Have you always been this easy to read? Does Kuroo know too?

“Why don’t you just tell him?”

“It’d make things too complicated.”

In other words: it’s easier to tell the truth when you’re not speaking to Kuroo about the whole thing. Hell, it’s easier to address it when it isn’t directly to him. It happened, and obviously there’s no way to strip the power from it now.

“Is that what’s really stopping you?”

You take a moment to consider this, and maybe the large part is the fear of consequence, if there will be one, what it will be, that sort of thing.

“Yeah…”

“Then stop thinking and just do something about it. I’ve never known you to take things lying down. Talk to him after the game or something.”

You don’t say anything, but you consider it.

/

The day of the game is supposed to be simple. It isn’t like it’s supposed to bloom into anything, and yet you find yourself thrumming with excitement when Kuroo easily finds you in the crowd before he’s set to enter the gym.

You don’t care to admit how much you enjoy this or the sight of seeing him in that vibrant shade of red. The same way you’ve seen him in countless games. It stirs something in your chest as you’re reminded of those days, like this revelation of your feelings might have bloomed sooner than you realized.

“Come find me after the game,” Kuroo tells you with that beautifully toothy grin of his, and you find that you can hardly breathe. “I have something to tell you when I win.”

When did he get so damn good looking? You want to wonder, though that would only be one of many ponderings. You don’t know what his words mean, or why the implication makes your heart react the way it does, but you hope against your own ideals just to remain in reality. At least you try to.

It’s hard once the game begins.

/

Watching him play feels like falling in love again.

You don’t know what it is in the way Kuroo carries himself or how he seems to dance across the court with a hitch in any of his movements, but it’s addictive to watch. How easily he remains himself even on the court. The very cheeky grin flashes at his opponents, particularly Tsukishima, who looks more and more fired up as they contain their rally. They don’t look much different than when they first played against one another in high school, though they all seem to carry a newfound sense of wisdom in this game they’ve been destined to play time and time again.

Each rally feels like it goes on for longer than the last, as if everything will be gone in a single drop, and perhaps it’s true to say that this mirrors that of love. How you may try as you might to keep the secret of loving away from reality, but it all comes crashing down eventually. It feels that way when you see the final round reach a neck and neck standstill. Neither side wants the ball to drop, to allot victory to their opponent, of course.

It’s Kuroo’s determination that stands out to you. The way he seems to cheer his team on even without words as he tries his best to keep the orange, green, and white ball in play. He’s never been one to give up no matter the circumstances. He’s always found a way to move things in his favor, and he’s never once wavered, even in the beginning of his time with volleyball, he’s always tried, even with losses under his belt.

It’s strangely beautiful to bear witness to this play once more. You don’t know what it is when he looks back at you before his notoriously accurate block with a small, yet triumphant smile, like he knows this’ll win the game, or even so, bring them closer to it, but it rouses something even stranger in your chest as you cheer alongside everyone else in celebration of the first point of two needed to finally win the game. This is by no means a big game like the Inter-high or anything, but it feels that way. Maybe that’s why everything seems to stand out to you. It feels like something big might happen.

Simple as this game might be, it feels like everything when they reach the end of the rally.

They win, and you rise from your seat without a second thought. 

/

You don’t think about what you’re doing.

Your limbs seem to move on their own accord as the rest of the team does a final bow to the audience. You don’t bother stopping to wonder if Kuroo’s searching the crowd for you as you make your way down the stairs, or what the little frown on his face means when his gaze lingers on the spot right behind the banner as soon as you reach the hallway across from the court. Your spot.

No, you don’t stop to think about it.

You don’t even stop moving as you call his name or as you see the light come back to his beautiful hickory eyes. You don’t stop to consider what that might mean either.

Instead you run to him at full speed without bumping into anyone, truly a miracle in and of itself, and instead of stopping right before him with your feet planted firmly on the ground like any other person, you choose to jump. You don’t know why. You don’t think about why either. You just believe that he won’t drop you because he’s never given you a reason to believe otherwise. In fact, you absolutely trust him to catch you now more than ever, and to no one’s surprise, he does.

There are so many things you want to do—reasonable things that any normal best friend supporting their best friend would do. You want to say congratulations. You want to just hug him and jump down because you want to believe that this will be like any other hug you’ve shared with this man you’ve known for years. And maybe it could’ve been that simple if you had just stopped to consider what your actions would mean to him, you, and everyone else. But you don’t bother with the frivolities, you don’t want to yet.

Because when you really look at Kuroo, you catch sight of something beautiful. A sight all too familiar to you and the years of memories you’ve shared together. It’s him in his most purest form; little drops of sweat falling at the sides of his face, an elated grin in all its toothy glory, and the little crinkles at the corners of his eyes becoming more and more prominent. And yet, there’s something a little too new in the way that he looks back at you, the way his gaze lingers on your lips and only snaps back up to your eyes when you say his name. 

Your grip around his shoulders tightens and his lips fall a little closer together like he might say something, but you don’t give him a chance. It’s hard when you find yourself on a roll of impulses, like you’re untouchable from consequence.

Maybe you’ve watched too many romance movies, or maybe read too many stories where the best friends finally get together after years of pining and being called idiots by everyone around them. You know it’s all too silly, and you and Kuroo have spent evenings mocking the theatrics of boombox accompanied confessions and singing over the loudspeakers with the marching band as the main male lead’s instrumental track. They’re endearing in the moment, but so painfully unreal, you almost wish this world was entirely fantasy for just a taste of what could be with Kuroo. That’s the true villain, maybe. You can’t stop yourself now.

Everything everyone has ever speculated about you two flies over your head, and for once in a great while, you stop caring enough to just do what you’ve always wanted to do, to finally actualize the fantasies you’ve played out over and over in your head.

Fuck it, you decide. If there’s any time to do this, it’s now. The extra shit can wait.

So, before any words, you kiss him.

You take note of the way he responds so gently to the initiation. It’s a tentative pressure, as if he’s testing the waters to see what you can handle before you pull away. But you don’t. You remain, and maybe part of that has to do with the adrenaline coursing through your veins or maybe it’s the part of you that seeks this wish fulfillment and wants to bask in it before reality sinks it.

The whole thing is indescribable. Of course, it is. All of your fantasies have never gotten you as far as the real deal. You wouldn’t have guessed just how close to peppermint he would taste, or that there would be a slight hint of honeyed lemons in the aftertaste. Like the treat promises, you feel invigorated, rejuvenated, and maybe even worst of all, hungry for a little more.

This is why you readjust your grip around his shoulders as you attempt to deepen the kiss. In response, his grip on your thighs tighten, as if he might be afraid you’ll disappear. And to your surprise, he kisses you back with just as much fervor, like it might be the last time.

You don’t remember what draws you apart, whether it’s one of his teammates jeering at you two or if it’s your respective needs to breathe, but you’re inclined to etch this new sight of him to memory. The way his chest heaves, his pupils dilated, and his lips all pink and swollen. It’s new and beautiful, and you wonder if it’ll happen again.

And then it hits you.

What you’ve done. Your head spins just a little.

“I’ve fucked us up, haven’t I?” Your words are no louder than a whisper, but it feels like it’s only you two right now. Nothing else to cut into this moment, though you almost sort of wish for an opportunity to sink into the ground because what the fuck did you just do?

All you can do is try to shake yourself away from him, back down to the ground, back to reality.

Kuroo keeps you in place and takes the chance to really look at you. His eyes scan your face for a trace of truth, not that this would be a hard feat anyway. You’ve never been good at hiding anything from him, not when you were kids, and most certainly not now. You wonder if he can read, “I’m totally and utterly in love with you” from your eyes or if it somehow materialized across your forehead like Kozume and Nobuyuki have always teased you.

“That’s not entirely fair,” he says, still faint with his usual teasing.

“Huh?” Your eyebrows knit together, and your lips seem to pull into an involuntary frown.

“That implies that you were the only one who compromised our friendship…” he pauses for a second as his bottom lip trembles and he gives an inaudible swallow, “right?”

“What are you getting at?” Simply the implication is enough to bring lightning to your skin, as if to resuscitate you back to a more serene state. Your heart can’t seem to handle this overload, however. You wonder if he can hear it.

“I think you know what I’m getting at...”

His cheeks have gone pinker than the cherry blossoms in spring. Of course, it should’ve been enough to confirm your suspicions. You could’ve left it at that, but for your sake, for your very own heart, you tell him what you need.

“Say it.”

One more look at you and it’s enough for him. Somehow you know that without being told.

“I love you.”

Your heart trembles, even louder now, like a thunderstorm. That strange calmness remains. The kind only he can elicit in you.

Kuroo looks at you in wait, in wonder, as if your answer wasn’t as clear as day already. You laugh a little and the corners of his lips turn upward.

“I love you too.”

He lets you drop down, of course, but only after another kiss.

You hold his hand and walk through the double doors you entered through.

This time together.

[antigonick]

hi! sorry if this is super weird or annoying, but i wanted to ask you smth. im an english lit major (not an anglophone tho), im a bit more than halfway through with college but i know im falling behind. but that's not the question is it! haha. well, my woes aside, this past semester i got some feedback on two (very rushed :() final papers and both times i didnt get a bad grade but i was told that my essays were descriptive, rather than analytic or critical. how do you think i can improve this?++

++ im scared of just being stupid lol :( i honestly got super bummed out by the feedback, although i was expecting those exact comments :/ i struggle to give my papers that critical twist (which is kinda the entire point), and i guess my question is how can i incorporate more critical sources and theory into my papers and not spend pages upon pages describing things? i can never even get a good thesis statement, i realize now i am totally venting over here and im sorry i just dony know what  to do or how to improve and i feel like im running out of time and i know i SHOULD know these things by now :( i come to you with this sad story made even sadder by my pms (rip) because i love your analysis on texts and i think you are so smart and eloquent and precise!!! again, i hope that wasn't super annoying or overwhelming and i'm sorry if it was! Anyway, I hope you're doing amazing, I love your blog and your mind!! Thank you so much :)

Alright! So first of all, don’t be scared of being stupid—you’re not and it’d be crippling to think so, because that mindset gets you running around in circles. You know your situation is completely normal, right? In analysis, there’s one shitty little fucker of a porch-step where every student will stumble, and it’s exactly this: climbing from the merely descriptive to the involved critical.

At one point it clicks into place and you feel the difference in your brain.

You say you never have a good thesis statement, and I think that might be where your thinking process jams a little. Of course you’d remain descriptive if you don’t have a pointed question at the moment of writing.

It’s not about either/or between critical and descriptive. The way I see it, description is fundamental: it comes back several times during your analytical process. It’s the basis of it. First you look at the text, or a phenomenon, or what have you, and you become aware of its cogs—this is exploration, description. By becoming aware of said cogs, you excavate how they work together—mechanics, motifs, recurring techniques. This is where descriptive meets criticism. Why are these effects/devices/topics here? What do they offer? How do they make me feel, and what are my bias, so why am I feeling that way specifically? Is it the same for everybody? What could they hint at? How are they working now, and do they evolve later? What genre, or theme, or overarching idea do they develop?

You’re not merely looking at them anymore, you’re questioning them. You’re building your own interpretation of them. And careful—it’s not an opinion. You’re not reviewing it. It’s a study, an examination, subjective because it’s yours and you’re the subject who is critically thinking, but rooted in the reality of the text, in the intellectual or emotional pathways it opens.

When you’ve pinpointed the main ideas and dynamics you want to explore, that’s when you get your thesis statement/thesis question. I can’t stress this enough, you need one before you launch into writing. It’s what will make you go further than just describing, and it’s what will orient your argument. And remember, it doesn’t have to be (no: it won’t be) exhaustive. It’s much better to focus on something tiny and contained at first, actually. Pick a lane and stick to it. 

Random example, but the only thing I’m reading with happiness these days is Fallen Hero: Retribution, so let’s use this. There’s a lot in there, and a lot of insights going in a lot of directions, notwithstanding the analysis you could make of the style itself. Out of the thousand questions you could ask about it, let’s focus on one: “How does this work modelise gender?”

With this question, you can explore a lot of aspects: stylistics—how words depict gender, how pronouns are used, how bodies are described; societal—how the characters interact with the idea of gender, how gender and gender image are dealt with in the world the text inhabits, and in the story itself; narratology—how does gender impact the story, is it an agent of it?; and much more. But these are descriptors. These are the signs and symbols and tools you’ve already garnered, consciously and unconsciously, when you read and analysed your text.

Here comes the little fucker of a porch-step. You have all of these descriptors, these facts. You know how to describe them well and most likely interpret them at surface level. But they’re means to an end, not an end in themselves. They’re just your tools. Now that you know they’re there, you have to use them to go further and explain what they’re doing. With our example, that means explaining not only how gender works in the story, but why. What might it mean for the author and their own world-view? What might it mean for the reader and what impacts can we expect? What might it mean for the characters and what effects does it lead to? Why is it important? Why is it groundbreaking? How does it differ from other works like this, where does it go further than most? Are there blindspots, pitfalls? What do those mean too?

Of course description makes a comeback in your arguments, in your examples: it’s not left behind. The analytical process is not a pyramid or a hierarchised structure, it’s a circle/cycle. You use description to reach criticism and you use criticism to explain description and you use description to justify criticism. 

I think that’s it? I hope this helps and I hope this makes sense. Good luck!!

PS: I find that reading critical works helps a lot, just because you get the hang of it through seeing analysis in practice rather than just hearing about methodology. Obviously, before you write an essay about a text, read a few critical works about the text itself! More about this here.

[fbfh]

magnus chase relationship and intimacy hcs

I genuinely found zero magnus hcs and it made me really sad

Also might not be as in character as my hoo posts cause I haven’t finished the series my library is closed don’t come for me-

As with all steamy/nsfw works, all characters are aged up to 18+

Warnings: moderate descriptions of ptsd symptoms and emotional recovery,, also like boinking and dicks obvs

1.6k words uwu

‘,:)

So he absolutely definitely has ptsd 

I don’t remember norse demigods being mentioned as having adhd and dyslexia so correct me if I’m wrong lol

I mean his mom was brutally murdered, he was fucking homeless, then he was killed and taken to valhalla

So yeah

Ptsd

He’s really defensive and jumpy at physical contact for a while

But he’s also incredibly touch starved

He’s super whipped for you

So it makes him really frustrated when he wants to be affectionate and vulnerable with you but he just,,, can’t

He has a lot of emotional walls up too for obvious reasons

You have to have really clear communication with him 

Which you do,, and he appreciates it a lot

You baby step into affection and intimacy

And let him take the lead a lot

It takes a while

But after a bit he gets these bursts of affection where he’ll cuddle and make out with you for like

Five minutes or less

Then it starts to feel weird again

You try to do small stuff like hand holding or blowing him a kiss or putting your head on his shoulder to help melt that ice

And it works

It goes from feeling weird, to weird but nice, to nice but kind of weird, to nice enough to ignore the weird part

As soon as he can be,,, he is an affectionate fiend

He likes to bear hug you a lot

He keeps a hand on your cheek or jaw line or the back of your neck when you kiss a lot

He still gets a little weird about his back or stomach or neck being touched which you totally understand 

So you kiss his shoulders and collarbones and run your hands over his chest and arms a lot

Once he had a really bad dream and couldn’t sleep cause he didn’t feel safe bc

~‧₊˚; *‧.₊˚ flashbacks fucking suuuuuuck ~‧₊˚; *‧.₊˚

So you played some home renovation show and spooned him and whispered

“It’s okay, I’ve got your back”

He didn’t have anymore nightmares that night

He really likes back hugs after that, as long as he knows it’s you behind him

He gives really nice kisses

It’s like a big full kiss

Idk how else to describe it but it’s very unique to him

He’s super protective over you still in a healthy way

He’s super fuckin pansexual and you can pry that from my cold dead hands

So he has a lot of hoodies and denim jackets

And bracelet stacks and weird dad thrift store shirts

And you can get him more of these things no matter how many he has and he will love it an equal amount 

Which is a lot

He gets kind of insecure and feels bad about all his weird symptoms bc he minimizes what he’s been through a lot

It’s kind of a why can’t I just get over it and be normal feeling

You remind him a lot that it’s okay and his feelings and experiences are valid and he’s safe now

He needs to hear that a lot

Once a lot of that ice has been broken he gets really touchy really fast

You two were just like

Chilling on the couch watching a movie or something

And he nuzzles into your side to cuddle

So you lay down a little more and he rests his head on your chest

You keep watching the movie like that for a while 

He props himself up and just kind of looks at you for a minute

He can’t remember feeling this warm before he met you

And now he feels really really warm 

And tingly

You’re about to look over and ask if he’s alright when he just 

Presses his face into your neck and starts kissing you

You let out this breathy flustred little laugh he’s never heard before and he wants to make you make that sound again

He kisses up to your face and his hair is all in his eyes

So you brush it out of the way and tuck it behind his ear and his face nuzzles into your hand

He bites back a moan

You end up making out a lot

Which leads to,, other things

You don’t question it or ask where that came from

You just give him a lot of love and reassurance

Once he feels comfortable,,,, I hope you’re ready bitch

Cause you’ll be under him

And on top of him

A lot

Like a lot lot

He doesn’t have a lot of experience so he likes it when you take the lead

Big fan of showering together

I almost fucking forgot

He thinks you look hot in everthing obvs

But if you wear his boxers 

He goes apeshit

If you wear bras he likes the unlined sheer ones best on you

He also thinks you look really nice in boyshorts and cheekies

Esp the invisible microfiber ones

He likes how soft they are and how they just kind of seamlessly glide over your hips

If you play with his hair he practically starts purring

If you tug it really gently he moans

Just thought you should know that

Things get really intense in a good way with him

He gets very caught up in the heat of the moment

Has broken the bed before

And would do it again

Blitz and hearth almost walked in on you two cause they heard a loud crack and thought someone broke in

It was a very very close call

You laughed about it a lot later

He also likes things to be really soft and fluffy

So sleepy morning sex is definitely in his vocabulary

When he gets more comfortable he loves when you rest your head on his tummy and he can play with your hair and touch your shoulders

He also likes when you have your hand resting on his lower back

He finds it really grounding

Gives a lot of back hugs

Sometimes his head is resting on your head or shoulders

Sometimes he’s sucking on your neck

Just kinda depends yk

Really really likes it when you straddle him

Esp when you play with the hem of his clothes

You really really like to straddle him too

It’s a nice seat if you get what I’m sayin

Kind of wants to have shower sex with you but is also really scared of slipping and getting hurt

Settles for romantic bubble baths instead

Kind of stubbly, esp in the morning

It’s really cute

But kind of ouchie on more,,, sensitive areas

He’s usually fine staying a little stubbly, unless he’s planning to surprise you

You get a little excited when you see him shaving extra carefully

He sees you staring and just kind of looks you up and down and winks

Alksdjafskfja 

He likes having his hair longer

So do you

So you show him different ways to do little buns and stuff to keep it out of his face and stop it from getting tangled when he sleeps

Ngl you haven’t lived until you’ve seen magnus hard in his boxers kneeling over you hastily throwing up his hair so you can have some fun

That image is thankfully burned into your retinas for all eternity 

You get palpitations thinking about it

You’re the only one allowed to play with his hair or call him maggie/mags

He sometimes borrows your scrunchies and it’s really really cute

You end up with this little routine of swapping them when they stop smelling like the other person

If you don’t wear scrunchies you get him some and he thinks it’s adorable

You also steal them and swap them out when they don’t smell like him anymore

He loves having picnics outside with you

Especially to go stargazing

Yeah rooftop picnics are a thing

Plus people can’t really see what you’re doing and no one really goes up there so uh

As long as you can stay quiet you’re never bored

Sometimes when you’re stargazing his hand will just kind of gradually go from resting on your hip to wrapping his arms around you and having you lean against his chest

You sometimes raid the fridge together in the middle of the night

You took him to mcdonalds at like 2am once

It was not the last time that happened

Totally the type to love getting matching pj bottoms with you

Really loves it when you hold his hand with both of yours

It makes him feel really loved and masculine in a good healthy way and generally good

On days when he just Needs a Distraction you try any hobby or activity you can get your hands on

His favorites so far are painting each others nails, random online flash games like papa’s, finding the best climbing trees (weather permitting), and binge watching and reviewing the weirdest shows and movies you can find

Including but not limited to flava of love, josie and the pussycats in outer space, lightning point, and clone high

The movies are usually really low budget, or questionable teen romance movies like twilight, sierra burgess is a loser, the kissing booth etc. 

You still quote clone high to this day

He’s very excited for the reboot me too, magnus, me too

Doesn’t stop clowning on TJ bc of it

TJ has no fucking idea what he’s talking about 

“For the last time Magnus, I’m just named after him. I’m not a clone. I don’t know John Kennedy or Abraham Lincoln, and how could I possibly know Cleopatra??? Where are you getting this from, you understood this like a week ago-”

He really likes just kind of hugging you from behind and smooching wherever he can and swaying back and forth

Tells you he loves you a lot

Really really grateful you’re in his life

Does everything he possibly can to be the best boyfriend

Cause you deserve it

Did i mention he loves you a lot lot lot

Cause he really does

Treat him right, give him a lot of love 

He also blushes really easily shhh

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “Perfect Timing.”

Alright everyone. I am beginning to realize that maybe expecting myself to write a story every week day with a job and trying to get into grad school and writing a second novel might be a bit..... excessive?

So I am going to try for three times a week. I hope you all stick around :)

And I hope you enjoy today’s story as well. 

Adam stood with his hands behind his back, feet spread to shoulder width. He would never have noticed by himself, but the men and women around him stood a little straighter and stepped a little faster under his watchful eye. Once upon a time they might have only hastened their work if he directly asked them too, but just his mere presence these days could send his crew scurrying to do their work. He hadn’t really changed anything about the way he commanded his men. He was firm when he needed to be but allowed for brevity when it would suit the situation.

However, a few years and some tough lessons was slowly shaping him into the kind of man who could command thousands, sharp posture, calm confidence, and a keen eye. 

But then again anyone who could appear professional while wearing high top heelies was a man to be reckoned with.

Sunny walked up next to him her pearlescent white armor glowing under the light as she leaned on the shade of her matching spear. Her head was held high like his. Where once she had been locked up, and defensive, she now stood with the calm confidence of someone who understood what control meant.

Together they had come a long way.

She tilted her head, “You really think he’s going to let you race this…. It’s a million dollar piece of military hardware, they don’t stand a chance.”

Adam didn’t move, hands still clasped behind his back as he  stared up at the F-90 Darkfire he was preparing for the race, “I wouldn’t be so sure…. I’ll be lucky to come in last place.”

Sunny frowned confused, “I saw those shuttles, they were junk shows.”

He lifted his head as the F-90 was rolled across the deck.

“This is a race, it isn’t combat. She was built for dogfights which means she is going to be heavier than the others. Wing tip to wing tip she is also going to be a little longer than the other shuttles and jets making maneuvering around obstacles more difficult. Sure she likely has a more powerful engine, but that can be as much of a detriment as it is a leg up.”  He gestured in the vague direction of the race course, “We are going to be racing through the planet’s smaller rocky ring. It has an unusual amount of larger, thick chunks which we are going to have to manuver around: the kind of conditions you might see in science fiction movies when they talk about an asteroid field. Asteroid fields are generally too far apart to cause any real issue, but here the rocks are dense, and my flying is going to have to be on pont, having a more powerful engine is going to make her more touchy, and my fitness on the controls is going to have to be absolute.”

Sunny tilted her head listening as he continued. She liked it when this side of him came out. There was something about the analytical, logical side of Adam she found….. Very appealing.

He walked forward to examine the jet himself, “Furthermore, I don’t know if you noticed, but there were a few jets there that weren’t exactly junk shows. A few of them were pretty top of the line, and most of them were built for racing. Lighter, sleeker, faster, and with more engine control than mine.

A lot of my maneuverability is lost out of the atmosphere. This isn’t about how well you can manipulate wind currents, this is going to be all about the very minute rotation of the rear and and wing engines. Their wings are smaller and closer in meaning they are going to rotate more easily than me.

She walked up with him and put a hand on his shoulder, “You forgot to fact in one thing.”

He frowned and looked up, “Oh, what did I miss.”

She smiled slightly, “The skill of the pilot, and I know for a fact that we have the best pilot this side of Andromeda. You can have the best plane in the world, but if you have a shit pilot, then a good pilot in a flying trash can has a chance of winning.”

He Smiled, “Thanks, I needed that.”

He stepped back, “Still it doesn't pay to be too cocky. I have a feeling these people have raced this before, they are going to know what they are dealing with, and I am going tinto this completely blind. This is a test to see if my instincts are better than their practice…. Who knows it could be a very close run thing.”

He moved forward to do an extra check on the outside of the ship despite having a whole team of people to do it for him. Adam had learned to delegate a lot of his responsibilities onto others to avoid burnout, but this was one thing he never left to other people. He came back after a thorough check of the ship and stopped next to her.

His head was tilted to one side as he looked at the machine sitting before him.

“It is missing something.”

Sunny turned her head to look at him, “What?”

He smiled, “Do we have anyone here who has experience with graffiti?”

***

Donavan Red met him when he entered the hanger, wearing his flight suit and holding his helmet under one arm. He had gone for some of his more simple equipment. Didn’t want to give the guy an excuse to blame his skill on technology.

Red looked him over.

“Nice suit, princess.”

Adam just smiled thinly looking around at the other pilots, “I see I might be under-dressed.”

To be far though, he wasn’t exactly sure what he would have described the dress code, if he had to put it on an invitation. 

The most apt description seemed to have been.

Dress for Pissing contest.

The men and women wore their uniforms in the same way NASCAR drivers might, covered in logos and patterns. Some of them were clearly custom ordered with personal designs on the backs or the helmets, some sporting flames, others cartoon animals, one guy was just covered in black and white skulls.

The affect up close was ok, but from a distance he just looked like an over excited dalmatian, or maybe some kind of flamboyant cow.

A few of them went for color themes, neon red on black. Neon green on blue.

Most of them tried to coordinate with the matching colors on their ship, each trying to outdo the next.

Red smirked.

The docking bay light began to blink red as the airlock was engaged, and the all turned to watch as the doors opened, and Adam’s jet rolled into the docking bay. She was simultaneously both very impressive and very not impressive. She was an instrument of war, and he rockets lined up on either side of her wings said as much. Adam had once considered her rather sleek in comparison to other jets of the day, but looking at her now in comparison with the racing planes and he couldn’t help but compare her to a pitbull or a bulldog next to greyhounds or whippets.

She rolled up slowly and Red raised an eyebrow.

“A whose guy huh?”

Adam smirked, “I don’t know, I kind of like it.”

They both looked up as the F-90 stopped in place, and along her side in delicate blue cursive script was the name Cinderella. The man who had done the graffiti  had even taken the time to add some stylized pink roses to the front and end of the word giving it a finished look.

Donavan seemed both amused and annoyed at the same time.

The men and women around him turned to look over ridicule dying on their lips as they saw the smirk on his face.

It was made pretty clear.

He was going to beat them, and when he beat them, he was going to have a princess logo on the side of his jet, never mind all of their cool paint jobs.

Donavan frowned but then turned to everyone, “Alright load up!.” Adam did as ordered, switching seats with the young pilot in the cockpit and strapping himself in. he adjusted his controls, did a quick once over, and then pulled some power from his engine.  There was going to be an overwhelming desire to go fast, but he knew that speed wasn’t going to win him this race.

The jets began lining up next to each other, and to his surprise, one of the sleek racing models sidled up next to him, and when he looked over, he saw Donovan Red cambering into the cockpit.

That didn’t exactly bode well, but what was there to do about it.

He felt cool oxygen spilling  onto his mouth and nose as the orange tinted visor dropped down over his eyes. He opted not to use the heads up display preferring to see everything around him as he was flying. 

They were all in a line now, and up ahead a large projection appeared on the docking bay doors.

Red lights began to blink as the docking bay was cleared of everyone except for the jets.

The image of a woman appeared on the screen before them.

It was one of the women he had seen before in her cut off jean shorts and tight tank top.

“Ladies and gentlemen start - your - ENGINES!”

All around him the room was filled with a roar as the group of people pushed their engines to an idle.

He could feel the jet underneath him as it thrummed and whined vibrating into his gloves and down into his skin.

His very bones could feel the trembling.

“The course is simple, one lap around the rocky interior ring of the planet. Rules are only this, no leaving the ring, no weapons, and no teams, every man for himself. If the race moderators see any of this, you will be thrown from the race.”

She smiled and leaned back to reveal two green flags in either hand.

She began to wave them.

“On your mark!”

He took a deep calming breath forcing his hand to relax.

“Get set.”

He felt his heart beating  hard against his ribcage, his stomach crawled up into his throat, and he felt the sudden and overwhelming need to pee.

“GO!”

THe airlock doors shot open faster than they should have been able, a clear sign someone had bypassed safety protocols. Caught off guard by this, Adam shot out of the gate slower than he would have liked. Already the racing  jets streaked ahead, their quicker sleeker designs looking right at home against the blackness of space.

He had to remind himself that in space, without wind resistance, sleek didn’t mean shit.

If he was good enough he could have piloted a brick to win.

He gave more joice to the engine and shot forward. He cut under one of his other opponents and then cythed up next to a second.

He was there for only a moment when he saw something coming in from his right.

Instincts had him move fast, and he turned horizontal  shooting upwards just as another jet tried to push him out. He was flying over the two of them now, and gave another burst shooting forward and past them.

This open stretch was the only time he was going to be able to use the power of his engine to his advantage, so he gave her a little more juice and shot forward catching up quickly with the racing models at the front. Two of them cut sideways attempting to block his path. He cursed, forced to fire his engines backwards so as not to go crashing into them. 

The ring was approaching quickly now, and he could see very clearly that they had not been kidding. The belt was dense, less mate out of fine sand, and instead made up of billions of rocks some the size of him, others the size of cars, and even some the size of large houses. It was the strangest sort of formation he had ever seen around a planet, and he wondered idly how they stayed in orbit.

The two jets ahead of him cut right and then left as a rock came barreling towards him.

He shouted and rolled to the side barely avoiding a head on collision, his instincts saving him where his active brain could not.

He snarled.

“Pull it together.”

There was no time to be thinking, there was only time for flying.

WIth a practiced hand he toggled a switch on the side of his thumb, and his helmet was suddenly filled with the sound of music and drums. His brain focused inward and stopped thinking. He shot over and then under rolling between rocks just inches away on either side. Off to his right the planet below was glowing with the light of it’s star, a lightning blue halo around it where the atmosphere glowed.

He cut the left dove down and then rolled up.

He could see the other jets ahead of him cutting in and out through the rocks. His breathing grew even, his body relaxed, his brain heard nothing but the beat of the music and saw nothing but the obstacles ahead of him.

One of the jets pulled up next to him from behind recklessly rolling around one of the rocks. They were racing wing tip to wing tip now.

They cut right and left under and over he rolled left they rolled right. They were shaky just hanging on, but his flying was smooth.

Up ahead one of the other jets lit up with glowing orange as a set of flares broke from it’s back end shatting against the debris behind it.  Rocks were thrown off their normal course and went smashing into each other turning the rock field ahead of them into a meat grinder. Adam shot forward and dived downward while rolling tight, behind him the racer was unable to replicate the move and a piece of rock caught their wing sending them spinning off to the side and out of the ring.

Adam dodged a piece of debris coming in from his left, flipped upside down and shot diving upward and then righting himself just under the jet up front.

He could see the leader now, and recognized it as Red himself .

The jet above him attempted to drop down and knock him out of position, but he gave a burst to the engine and shot forward.

The jet behind him punched downward and nearly collided into a rock before pulling back into the palace.

Adam took their place in second.

Red could see him coming.

Another set of flares was released.

He checked his forward momentum and rolled three or four times to his right. G forces tugged at his consciousness forcing blackness to the edge of his vision. He tightened the muscles of his chest and stomach forcing blood back up into his head as he breathed out in short controlled bursts.

A rock flew overhead, he cut low, bumped up and then executed a rolling turn over a massive rock pulling in behind red and just up to the right to avoid another burst of flares.

The two of them were fighting for the front now.

And red was good, he knew how to handle a jet, but so did Adam.

They roared past a field of rocks splitting apart as a massive chunk came between them. Adam roared forward, and panicked for a single moment as he saw an impenetrable wall of rock appear just before him. Then a crack appeared. He fired the forward engine and cut horizontal passing through an opening that left him only feet to spare. Rock rose up to meet him, and he rotated his engine up dropping vertically before cutting sideways and passing under a rock. Teeth gritted, he punched upward passing through a gap just as it closed behind him.

A yell of exertain escaped his lips as he pulled straight up cutting up the side of a massive mansion-sized rock before diving right back down into the thick of it.

Red was gone, he didn’t see him anymore.

Was he up front?

And then the sleek black jet dropped down from above cutting him off.

He cursed and swerved low past another rock forced to cut diagonal back into line.

He pulled up wing to wing with the men again.

They dove, they pulled up and they took a wide turn ac coordinated together as a military formation never more than four feet apart.

They were going faster than they probably should have reacted. second by second he rolled left Red went right. They both met in a dive rolling past each other, wings almost touching before cutting upwards mirroring each other in opposite directions. The sound of the music melded with the path of his flight.

They were racing side by side just as one of the other jets roared over them careening out of control in a desperate attempt t o reach front. They watched him dive pull up cut left, and then a rock rolled right into their path. The two of them barely had time to react as the rock hit their right wing and then sent them slamming into the next boulder. There was an eruption and a brief ball of fire as oxygen was consumed from inside the cockpit. Debris blossomed up around them in a miniature explosion.

Adam greeted his teeth, eyes wide .

What was once a race suddenly turned into a battlezone. He and Red dove together rolling around the debris desperately trying to avoid getting cut in two. At these speeds, one hit would be the death of them. His heart raced in his chest as he pulled forward cutting  in the triangle made by three boulders side by side. Red mirrored him below.

A chunk of metal shot towards him, and he toggled his right wing burst just in time, lowering his left side just in time for the chunk to go flying past him. He pulled up with a gasp as a massive chunk of rock cut up before him. Red shot below and he rolled over the top coming into second place.

Up ahead a mining barge ascended through the line of rocks.

Adam roared with exertion as he pulled up and leveled out shooting right under the attached arm of the barge. Red lights erupted over it’s hull in a proximity warning as he went just inches overhead.

The barge driver, clearly spooked twisted to the side and the arm of the barge rolled with it, catching a boulder and sending it flying towards the grouping next to it, there was a sudden explosion of rock and again he was forced to roll to the side. Up down, over and under, cything between lines of rock.

He was almost hit once, then twice.

He toggled the forward engines, slowing himself down and then shooting straight up before continuing forward.

The rocks around him were rolling unpredictably colliding and then exploding into smaller pieces. There was no way he was making it through that alive.

He was rolling diving spinning twisting, and then, he felt it…. Something he had only felt on occasion. The world around him went silent, everything seemed to slow, and he was filled with…. With a feeling. It was like light, bursting out from his chest, rolling up through his skin and into his head.

He entered a moment of perfect execution. He cut into a tight roll his wings cything through the minute gaps between debris with timing so perfect it shouldn't have been humanly possible. Rocks passed by him at hundreds of miles an hour inches away  from the glass of his canopy, one wrong move and he’d be dead. He cut through a gap that gave him inches on either side rolld right dove down, turned left, spun once and then twice, and made a completely vertical ascent. Rocks flew past him on his right and on his left.

Up ahead he could see a gap slowly closing before him. He opened up his engine and shot forward so fast everything was a blur.

The rocks collided behind him as they snapped shut, and he flew into the clear firing forward to slow himself, and then red was there too descending from above spinning and wobbling, almost out of control and careening directly towards a house sized boulder.

He panicked firing up and down at the same time and sending him into a spin.

He was heading directly towards the rock .

WIthout thinking Adam locked onto the rock, and fired. A rocket under his wing detached and shot forward exploding violently just in time for Red to pass through unharmed. Red jolted awkwardly and rolled to one side. Adam cut past under from right to left and rolled straight over red to avoid a rock.

There was a moment where the two of them were staring at each other through the clear canopy.

Eyes met for an instant, and Adam could see the wide eyed fear on the man’s face., Then Adam rolled ahead ducking under the last rock and then bursting out into space.

He let the F-90 have her moment, and completely opened the engine shooting forward and cutting through the finish line which flashed bright green. In that moment He was hit with such a sense of exhilaration and joy that he couldn't imagine anything better. Who needed drugs, who needed love, who needed any of that when you could fly.

Hed did a triumphant loop whooping the whole way.

Of course, a feeling like that can never last long and slowly began to fade away. THe reality of what he had just done was both terrifying and amazing to the point he felt his body begging to shake. The tension and fear he had been holding back exploded inside him just like that joy and he found his hands trembling on the joystick.

He let it overtake him. He had been like this since he was young and fighting it would only make things worse. Despite his shaking hands he flew back to the docking bay and landed his jet with the precision of a surgeon. Finally when the engine was off and the flood stable underneath him he slumped back in his seat shaking and racked with rolling tremors. He closed his eyes and breathed long and slow.

Behind him the others came limping in.

None of them were completely unscathed, at least one person was dead. His hands continued to shake as the airlock doors shut, and as soon as the room was pressurized, he opened the cockpit. As soon as it did, Sunny came running into the room and up the ladder. SHeleft her spear on the floor and helped him to climb out.  His legs were shaking and he almost fell if it weren’t for her support.

She knew him too well, sitting him down on the lowest step and kneeling next to him.

“Are you ok?”

He grinned at her, “That was…. Holy shit.”

He held up his hand to watch the shaking, “I’m having an earthquake.”

It was just then that Red jumped out of his jet onto the floor. He staggered when he did but pushed away the men who tried to help, “What the ever loving FUCK just happened. The field had NEVER been like that. Jaz DIED out there, what the FUCK.” 

The people milled around in confusion.

Red turned to him, eyes narrowing as he stalked over. Adam sighed and looked up as the man stopped to stand over him

“I’m sorry, I’ll get out of your hair.”

The man paused confused, “What?”

“I broke the rules. Means I forfeit.”

Red looked almost nonplussed, “What are you on about?”

Adam slowly took to his feet taking a few more deep wreaths to steady himself before drawing to his full height. He was stead now and looked down at Red with an unwavering gaze. He held out a hand, “I used weapons during the race, that was against the rules. These weren’t flares to move the rocks. I used a targeted missile during the race and that means I broke the rules.”

Red stared at him.

Then he snorted, “Damn the rules. You saved my ass.” he turned to look at his people, “I am more than man enough to acknowledge that.” HE turned back to Adam, “You saved my life you crazy bastard. I am not even sure how you are still alive ….. Because that flying…. That was….. Holy fuck.” He grinned and took Adam by the shoulder, “you shaking, man.” He held up his hand to show a tremor, “Me too, now let's go get some drinks and talk this out. I owe you after all.”

The two of them walked off through the forest of shaken pilots, “You are the kind of man I can see myself doing business with.”

[transthaumaturge]

Squirrel Girl is Super Gay for her Roommate and I Want Everyone to Know

A gay infodump of sensible length by Rachel Tikvah

ALRIGHT, SO The Unbeatable Squirrel Girl was the very first comic that I ever read regularly, back when I was looking for more stories with strong female protagonists but didn't really know why. Back then I just thought I really liked strong female characters and not that I was being gay on main, but now I know the truth. The comic had a 5-year run, and it was the first time that Squirrel Girl, AKA Doreen Green, had had her own series. She had a brief run in the mid-2000's where she was established as someone who could beat up Thanos with her bare hands well, more like squirrel hands but was mostly a joke character that happened to be incredibly buff and had indestructible plot armor. USG decided that Doreen's next major life goal would be to enroll in college to become a computer scientist, because her writer, Ryan North, is really into computer science and they basically gave him free rein over Squirrel Girl canon for five whole years. Like, a solid third of the plots are solved with some kind of computer science smarts. It’s really cool. Anyway this is Doreen in one of the gayest solo pictures I could find of her on short notice, which is also one of the variant covers from the actual series:

And this is her college roommate, Nancy Whitehead:

I'm like, 99% certain that Ryan North intended for them to end up as a couple and Disney!Marvel told him no. So he decided to make them AS GAY FOR EACH OTHER AS POSSIBLE without explicitly saying that they were a couple, and it ended up going under the radar. What follows is evidence for that claim. I’m going to put a "read more” after this so it doesn’t clutter everyone’s dashboards, but please read on if you’re interested. There’s a lot of cute gayness after this point. I’m also going to put all of the image descriptions at the end, since they take up a lot of space and I don’t want to break up the flow of the post. Finally, a quick spoiler alert for one arc in the middle of the series and a couple major plot points from the final few issues.

AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES

So for a while it was just kind of hinted at that they’re in a relationship, mostly because they were basically domestic life partners for like, two whole years in-universe before the comic run ended. But it really came to a head with an arc that was ran about 2/3 of the way through the series. Some pictures of them being, like, so cute together in general and/or talking about how much they care about each other before I get to that arc, though: 

Also Doreen describes her and Nancy's cat as "co-parented" in one of the last issues:

ANYWAY, THE ARC. THE HYPERTIME ARC. So one of the villains created for the Squirrel Girl run (I think they liked making weird shit canon just because they could) was a dude who went by the name "EpicCrimez". He’s a crime streamer. He livestreams his crimes to an online audience. I don't know. *Throws up hands*

He had some kind of laser gun that he built out of scavenged alien tech but didn't really know what it did, so he shot it at Doreen and Nancy for kicks. It shot them into hypertime, so suddenly the rest of the world was moving at a fraction of the pace that they were. They were moving so quickly that they were slated to live out their entire lives over the span of a single weekend if they didn't figure out how to reverse the effects. And...they did. Live out their entire lives together. For the two of them, they were the only two people in the world. There were other people, but they looked like statues unless you spent a very long time observing them. Doreen and Nancy grew old together in a world where they only had each other. This is an incredibly cute domestic scene from a little while after they found themselves in hypertime:

Gosh, I wish I could find more official art from that arc of them just living together, it was so good. But the point is, they were both old by the time that Nancy figured out how to get them out of hypertime. And it wasn't ideal. Their bio signatures were stored in the gun that EpicCrimez shot, and they could essentially "reboot" their bodies from when they were first shot and send themselves back into the regular timestream. But they wouldn't remember anything about the life that they had shared together. Nancy almost didn't want to do it. She raised the possibility of them just living out the rest of their lives together, because she didn't want to forget their life together. This is the conversation they had:

"I don't regret any of it. I don't want to lose it, and I don't want to lose us." "You're not getting rid of me that easily." Every time I look at that last picture, which took up an entire page of the comic, I start to cry. We’re seeing the final moments of two people who love each other more than anything, who were each other's entire lives, savoring their last moments together and wondering what the future holds. Sacrificing the life that they built together so that their younger selves could live a better, fuller one. Dying in each other’s arms, scared but comforted by the fact that they had each other. And then the arc ends, and they can't remember anything, so the status quo is restored. They have some paintings they made of each other while they were living together in hypertime, but they move on pretty quickly without ever knowing the significance of those lived decades. Still, it's clear in the arcs that follow and the adventures they embarked on afterward that they would die for each other. All of that continues until the end of the last arc. Their shared apartment's been blown up at this point by a supervillain who wanted to ruin Doreen’s life before eventually killing her. And in the aftermath of the fight, they're sifting through the wreckage for anything that survived (don't worry, the cat got out in time) when they find the picture that they painted of themselves during the hypertime arc:

They have a really cute conversation about how this chapter of their life is over, but they're going to be okay and they're going to build a new life together. And then Nancy basically tells Doreen that she can't live without her:

And then Doreen says something super queer-coded about how she likes the idea of the world knowing her secret identity now:

On the very last page of the comic, after all of the action is over and the series is about to end, they're talking to each other in what's supposed to be a twitter thread and Doreen asks Nancy a very thinly veiled question about whether she still wants to spend time with her now that her identity's out. She pretends it's about a class project, but it's really not about the class project. Here's how that conversation goes:

With no knowledge of what happened during the weekend when they shared their entire lives together, without ever having heard Doreen say it to her before, Nancy’s heart still knows which words to choose. "...you're not getting rid of me that easily. <3" I believe that the author of the series, Ryan North, did as much as he possibly could to portray them as a couple without saying it outright. And as the last piece of evidence to support that claim, I want to share a response he wrote in one of the series' last-ever letter columns:

"as for more Doreen and Nancy, I hope so too. A Squirrel Girl book without Nancy would feel like--like--like some sort of hypothetical "Super" "Man" book without an equally hypothetical "Lois" "Lane"!" It's easy to write off this analysis as wishful thinking, or as a misreading of the subtext. But when the author of the series says that these two characters are meant to always be together and compares them to one of the most famous couples in any comic series ever, it's clear that there's more to it than that. 

Some Additional Thoughts: 1) Doreen and Nancy are both probably bisexual or pansexual, since they both expressed romantic interest in men throughout the series but they’re both clearly interested in each other too. There might be an element of demiromanticism there as well if part of the reason that they’re into each other romantically is because of how emotionally close they’ve become over the years. I want to make sure that that facet of their romantic orientations doesn’t get erased, because bi and pan folks get erased enough as it is. Neither Doreen nor Nancy are lesbians, just super-cool WLWs.

2) HERE’S WHAT THE ISSUE 50 VARIANT COVER LOOKED LIKE

That’s NOT a fun, totally straight way to pose with your platonic gal pal. They’re so incredibly cute together! I have no words! In Closing If you got this far, thank you so much for letting me talk to you about a comic that’s very important to me, and a couple in that comic that I care about very much. I spent way too long making this (six hours and counting), mostly in writing the image descriptions, and I’m very proud of my work but very tired now. Hyperfixation is a hell of a drug. If this resonated with you, please consider reblogging it so that more folks can see it. If not, even a like is nice. I’d also love to engage with people who have their own thoughts, so feel free to leave some comments in the notes if you’ve got an idea/a reaction/any additional cute Doreen/Nancy scenes that you’d like to share with me. At any rate, this post has gone on long enough and I don’t want to ask y’all to read any more than you have to. So have a great day, good morning / afternoon / night, and stay safe. Thanks again for reading! ~Rachel Tikvah, AKA @transthaumaturge Image Descriptions: Image 1: [ID: Squirrel Girl, a young woman with light skin, is posing in front of a brick wall that she seems to have crashed through, leaving a perfect outline of her body. She’s facing away but looking backwards over her shoulder at us and smiling. She’s flexing upward with her right arm and has her left fist resting on her left hip. Her sidekick, a squirrel named Tippy-Toe, is standing in the cutout she left in the wall and is making the same exact pose while wearing a light pink bow around her neck. Squirrel Girl is wearing brown lace-up boots, fur-lined hot pants over grey tights, and a brown fur-lined jacket with sleeves that come up to her forearms and a symbol of an acorn embroidered into the back. She’s also wearing a hairband with fake squirrel ears on it over short reddish-brown hair. She has a large squirrel tail coming out of her hot pants that sweeps down in a curve behind her lower legs. The illustration is drawn so that everything is bathed in the light of a sunset, and Doreen is casting shadows on the wall in front of her.] Image 2: [ID: Two frames depicting a scene between Doreen and Nancy in their college dorm room, with many cardboard boxes still not unpacked and sitting on a bare bed mattress. Nancy Whitehead is a young woman with dark brown skin and short, curly black hair. She's wearing black tights, a white dress-top, and a yellow cardigan over that. Her arms are crossed as she holds her white cat, Mew, against her chest. Doreen is wearing grey tights and a black long-sleeve shirt with a wide collar and white stripes across the chest. She's holding Tippy-Toe up to Nancy with both hands so she can see her better. The following dialogue ensues: Nancy: "A squirrel? But weren't you the one who was all about pets not being allowed in--" Doreen: "Yeah, I know. But this really interesting person I met today told me that obeying an unjust law is itself unjust." Nancy: "...You know, I was worried I'd get a weird roommate, but you're all right, Doreen Green."] Image 3: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are both sitting on a lavender-pink couch in nightclothes. Doreen has short, orange hair. She is wearing a loose-fitting grey long-sleeve shirt and steel-blue cutoff shorts; Nancy has cropped black hair. She is wearing a dark purple top with sleeves that come down to her upper arms, and loose-fitting navy-blue shorts that come down to her lower thighs. Doreen is side-hugging Nancy as she says, with an ecstatically happy smile, “Nancy, you’re the greatest. You know that, right?” Nancy gives Doreen a full smile as she responds, “I’d always suspected it, but it is nice to have it confirmed.”] Image 4: [ID: Nancy is shown from the shoulders up. She has short, curly black hair. She’s wearing large, disc-shaped gold dangle earrings, and a red jacket with prominent shoulders and a yellow collar. She’s fixing the observer with an angry, determined stare as she says, “She knows this man wouldn’t dream about betraying her, or he’d have to answer to me.”] Image 5: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are eating breakfast at the brown, circular kitchen table in their apartment. Doreen’s wearing a skin-tight athletic crop top that’s striped in black, red, white, and blue. Her arm muscles are well-defined and clearly visible as she puts a spoon in her mouth, closing her eyes as she does so. She has a bowl of cereal in front of her, and half a banana in front of that. Nancy is sitting to her left in a pink camisole top that’s also exposing her muscles, scrolling through something on her smartphone. Her hair is in a yellow fabric wrap that’s knotted on one side of her head. A cup of coffee sits in front of her. The clear blue sky is visible through the window centered on the wall behind them.] Image 6: [ID: Nancy and Doreen are facing away from the vantage point, walking towards an Empire State University campus building and holding hands with their fingers intertwined. Nancy is wearing a long knee-length grey coat and black knee-high boots, with a baby-blue side bag hanging from her left shoulder. Doreen is wearing a magenta sweatshirt with the periwinkle-lined hood down, light brown form-fitting denim pants, and black ankle-high boots, with a dark brown side bag hanging from her right shoulder. Trees and bushes hem the walkway in on either side. The building in front of them is dark red, with glass doors and a row of floor-to-ceiling windows on the second floor. Doreen is saying “...we’re just going to have to take the long way around.”] Image 7: [ID: Doreen is facing towards the vantage point and is visible from the legs up, standing in front of a pile of rubble in the background. She’s wearing high-waisted light blue shorts over black tights, and a red windbreaker with sleeves ending at her upper arms that’s opened to reveal a white t-shirt underneath. Tippy-Toe is sitting on her shoulder. There are two people facing Doreen, each slightly in frame and silhouetted in black against the light of the setting sun. Doreen is fixing them with an angry, determined expression, resting her right fist at her hip while she gesticulates with her left hand and says, “So! I don’t know about you all, but Melissa kidnapping my friend and blowing up my life and my house and almost blowing up my co-parented cat makes me feel like giving her a piece of my mind. Friends...”] Image 8: [ID: A full comic page. EpicCrimez is looking like a dork in a green and black skin-tight jumpsuit, bright red ski goggles, and a green wig cap with his brown hair sticking out the back in a mullet. He’s standing inside a jewelry store and holding up a fist of expensive gems and pearls-on-strings as holds up his smartphone and speaks into it. He’s facing off against Squirrel Girl, with her allies Koi Boi and Chipmunk Hunk on her right, and Nancy and Brain Drain on the left. The following scene ensues: EpicCrimez: “And for those of you just tuning in, welcome to another successful heist by your boy EpicCrimez, streaming live! Now with 10% more live crime action than any other streamer! Don’t forget to like and subscribe!! I know some of you in EpicCrimez Nation have been forgetting to do that lately. Not acceptable.” Squirrel Girl: “You picked the wrong small business to rob, crime-initiator! Because this mall is protected by super heroes.” Brain Drain: “HELLO” SG: “And also an unrelated civilian friend I brought along too!” Nancy: (Not looking up from her phone) “ ‘Sup.” EC: “Check it out--Squirrel Girl and her miscellaneous friends are here! It’s action you won’t find on any other channel!” SG: “Are you...streaming your robberies?” (Nancy pockets her phone) EC: “Yeah I am! For money reasons! And with you “heroes” in it, I’ll make even more!” SG: (Whispering to Nancy:) “Question: a fight scene just gets him more traffic, which lets him profit from this crime even more--so does this mean we don’t fight him?” N: (Whispering back:) “I feel like letting him go causes more harm, but I look forward to us teasing apart the moral implications of this later.” SG: “Nice.” SG: (No longer whispering:) “I’ll like and subscribe, EpicCrimez! I’ll like fighting crime, and subscribe... to a worldview wherein the strong protect the weak!” EC: “Oh my gosh, are you like wholesome Spider-Man or something??” At the bottom of the page, small text says: “Wholesome Spider-Man, Wholesome Spider-Man/Does whatever a wholesome spider can/Is he tough?/Listen bud/He’s here to hear you talk about your day and tell you it’ll all be fine while taking you out for your favorite meal for dinner because he knows you deserve it.”] Image 9: [ID: Another full comic page. Doreen and Nancy are in their apartment together, and their friends Tomas and Brian (AKA Chipmunk Hunk and Brain Drain respectively) are frozen as they look down at the machine that Nancy is on her knees in front of, working on. Nancy, barefoot, is wearing cerulean-blue athletic pants, a black long-sleeve spandex shirt without shoulders, and narrow-framed glasses. Her hair is partially covered by a yellow cloth head wrap tied on the left side, with black dreadlocks spilling out the side and back. The machine in front of her is made of dull grey metal, about a meter tall and roughly circular. Wires dangle out of a hatch that Nancy is fiddling with. Doreen is wearing a flowing, dark-purple pantsuit with wide, ankle-length legs and a halter top with the sleeves tied off at her shoulders. Her shoes are light-brown ankle boots with a horizontal gap on the bridge of each foot. Her wavy orange hair is parted in the middle and down past her shoulders. She looks incredibly cute. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “What do you think?” Nancy: “I think--come on you stupid screw--I think we’re still years away from this thing working, if it ever does. Who knew time machine construction is really hard, except of course for everyone who has attempted it?” (She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand) D: “Hah! No, I mean my new outfit.” N: (Looking up and checking her gf out:) “Doreen! You look amazing!!” D: “Liberated it from a very expensive department store uptown!” N: (Now standing) “Tony paid for it?” D: Tony will eventually discover he was kind enough to leave some expensive jewelry in trade, yes. I pinned a note to him so he knows.” N: “There really are advantages to being friends with billionaire playboy genius philanthropists.” D: “Right?!” N: (Taking Doreen’s hands in hers:) “It’s a shame we can’t take a picture of you all dolled up.” D: “Not without standing still for a few months, yeah. But I was thinking about that. I picked up something else at another store downtown. Thought maybe it could help us with that.” (Holding up a shopping bag with one hand while still holding onto Nancy’s hand with the other:) “Nancy Whitehead, I thought you and I might take up painting sometime.” At the bottom of the page, small text says: “Tony Stark moves from meeting to meeting, his body accumulating dozens of notes every second. He sighs. Stuff like this didn’t happen before he knew Doreen. But then he smiles, because after all...stuff like this didn’t happen before he knew Doreen.”] Images 10-16: [ID: Several pages worth of comic frames, posted together to depict one scene. Doreen and Nancy are now old women, likely in their seventies or eighties. Doreen has short, grey hair. She’s wearing a tan button-up waistcoat and an orange ascot, brown flats with an olive-green skirt, knee-length and softly pleated. Her tail is sticking out the back of her skirt over the top, bushy and brown but with stiffer, less-dense hair. Nancy has her grey-black hair done up in a ponytail, a mass of tight curls behind her head. She’s wearing thin oval glasses, black dress pants, black flats, and a lavender cardigan with a flower motif along the edges, open to show the yellow-orange top underneath. They’re standing in front of a completed time machine. On either side are tall pieces of machinery, and in the middle is a round, flat metal dais hooked up to everything else with snaking cables. The following scene ensues: Nancy: “So...this is it, babe. The new machine.” Doreen: “Your secret project! Nancy, it looks like you started from scratch!” N: That’s because I did. I finally realized our old machine was never going to work. Maybe if we had a few more decades, but...there’s no time. And given that our backs are to the wall, I took a risk. I disassembled the gun right down to the metal, and examined all the parts. And I did find something: a data chip. Doreen, the gun stored our bio signatures when it us.” D: “What are you saying?” N: “I’m saying my new machine won’t send us back in time, and we’ll still have lost a weekend of real time. But it will restore our bodies to normal time.” D: (Hugging Nancy tight:) “Nancy! You saved us!!” N: (Resting her hands on Doreen’s shoulders:) “Not--quite. There’s a catch, Doreen. Our bodies will make it...but we won’t. Look, Doreen...I’m an old woman. I’ve spent most of my life in hypertime. This wasn’t how I saw my life going, but...I don’t regret any of it. I don’t want to lose it, and I don’t want to lose us.” D: “I don’t understand.” N: “It’s like restoring from backup. Our bodies will be restored to how they were the moment we were first hit. But--that necessarily includes our brains, too. Everything we’ve done since we entered hypertime--our entire lives spent together...we’ll forget.” (She looks at Doreen in distress) D: “I don’t either, Nancy. You’ve been the most important person in my life. But if we do go back--we can do it again. All of it. It might not happen again quite the same way, but--well, like you say...we’ll have all the time in the world.” N: (Their faces inches apart, they both tilt their heads down and smile sadly:) “Twist my arm, why don’t you.” (They both step onto the dais holding hands, and blue energy starts to ripple around them:) “You filled up Spidey’s web-shooters before we go?” D: “Yep. Again.” N: “You and me, saving the world.” D: “Well,” (holding Nancy’s hand in both of her own) "No reason we can’t do it twice.” N: “You know, there’s a chance things could turn out differently, now that we’ll have video games to distract us. In 40 years we might decide we don’t like hanging out after all.” D: (Hugging Nancy even tighter than before as the energy from the time machine starts to envelop them, resting her face in the nape of Nancy’s neck:) “Nah. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”] Image 17: [ID: Doreen and Nancy are sifting through the charred rubble of their apartment as night starts to fall around them. Doreen is wearing faded blue jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with a Captain America star in the middle. Over top of the shirt, she’s wearing a dark reddish-brown leather vest with four metal studs at the four points of the folded-out collar. Nancy is wearing black tights and a light green long-sleeve shirt with olive-green sleeves. The front of the shirt has a picture of Cat-Thor, Cat God of Cat Thunder’s head on it. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “So I know we’re only a few hours into it, Nancy, but I think my identity being public isn’t gonna be as bad as I thought.” Nancy: “Oh?” D: “Yeah, Tony’s given me lots of tips, and it does honestly help to know that my parents are protected by a robot tree with laser eyes and my friends live in a city with the most super heroes per square mile.” N: “Most super villains too, but--Hold on. I think I found it.” (Nancy lifts a picture frame out of the wreckage, charred around the edges but otherwise no worse for wear. It has a painting inside of it of Doreen and Nancy, arm-in-arm, from hypertime. Doreen is wearing the lavender pantsuit from before, and Nancy is wearing a tight-fitting lilac dress.) “...And it looks like you and I made it through just fine.”] Images 18-19: [ID: Two later comic panels from the same scene. They’re wearing the same outfits, but Nancy’s now cradling her white cat, Mew, in the crook of her left arm while she holds onto the picture frame with her right hand. The following scene ensues: Doreen: “Come on, let’s talk about it! If we’re starting a new chapter in our lives, and we can decide what’s in it, what do you want it to contain?” Nancy: “Doreen...” D: “What are the three things you can’t live without, Nancy Whitehead?” N: (Holding up the picture so that Doreen can see it:) “Fine. If you must know, all this girl needs to be happy are cats and squirrels and knitting and computers and friends and secret tattoos and super heroes and lots and lots of love. Also food and shelter. And water. And internet.” D: “That’s more than three things.”] Image 20: [ID: Same scene as before, a single frame with a close-up on Doreen from her chest upwards. Doreen cups her chin with one of her hands and says, “Honestly--I thought about it. I really did. But I realized that where I am now, I’m safe and I’m loved and I kinda like the idea of not having to lie to people anymore, you know? Even if it is just a lie of omission. I want to share my whole self with the world. I don’t want to have to hide who I am anymore.”] Image 21: [ID: Something resembling a twitter thread, with dialogue between Nancy and Doreen stacked chronologically as horizontal boxes. Their respective names and handles are at the top of each of their comments. Nancy is Nancy W. and @sewwiththeflo, Doreen is Squirrel Girl and @unbeatablesg. The following conversation ensues: Nancy: “You think I’d leave you high and dry??” Doreen: “I think I don’t want our lateness harming your grades and therefore harming your post-secondary education or career choices and therefore harming your ENTIRE LIFE?!” “So yeah I think you should switch to someone else, real talk. I honestly don’t mind, I promise.” Nancy: “Please. If there’s one thing I know about you, about me, and about how we spend our future together, it’s this. Doreen Green...” “...you’re not getting rid of me that easily. <3″] Image 22: [ID: A paragraph of text, black text on a yellow background. “As for more Doreen and Nancy, I hope so too. A Squirrel Girl book without Nancy would feel like--like--like some sort of hypothetical “Super” “Man” book without an equally hypothetical “Lois” “Lane”!”] Image 23: [ID: A group picture of Squirrel Girl and friends sitting down on a grassy hill and watching the sunset together. Kraven the Hunter is in the foreground for some reason, looking almost directly at the camera. In the background we see Koi Boi, Mary Mahajan, Chipmunk Hunk, Brain Drain, and Mew the Cat. In the middle of the shot, Doreen and Nancy sit together. Doreen is in her superhero outfit with Tippy-Toe on her right shoulder, and Nancy is in a yellow cardigan and jeans on Doreen’s left. They’re holding hands, fingers intertwined, as Nancy leans against Doreen with her whole body. Their heads are tilted inward towards each other, the side of Doreen’s head touching the side of Nancy’s, as they look off into the distance together.]

[pandajaye]

Todoroki Family Ties (Part 7)

Characters: Enji Todoroki, Stepmom!OC!Ivy (Ivy is black btw), Child!Shoto Todoroki, Teen!Touya Todoroki

Warnings: child missing, dangerous criminals, mention of child murder, family abandonment

Enji and Ivy searched the entire property but Shoto was no where to be found. They called the police, Officer Tsukauchi alerted AllMight and Eraserhead and they were helping find him too. Even with them here, they were careful to keep quiet about the missing child of a Pro Hero. You never know what Villains could be looking for him too. The worst part of it was, the reason they needed pro hero help was because Shoto was the least dangerous person they were searching for today. The news reported that someone dangerous was out on the run and that only made Ivy’s heart sink lower. They figured they were fine since it was a private residence and Shoto was with a nanny, but she was gone too.

“We’re working hard to find him and the missing nanny, ma’am. I hate that this happened on the same day that a criminal broke out of jail. Is there any more information that you can give us about the boy or the woman?”

Tsukauchi must have been in a lot of situations where he had to show calmness towards civilians. His soft voice gave her a sense of peace, it was small but any was good.

“I-I.... I don’t know too much about her. She seems good with the kids. We just recently hired her last week and she’s been an angel. She has a very kind attitude for an older woman with a tattoo.”

“A tattoo? What did it look like? Can you describe it for me?”

Ivy thought hard about the image that was located on the woman’s hand. Enji didn’t agree with it but Ivy convinced him that since she wa so child friendly, the tattoo shouldn’t matter.

“It was a thin black circle with a cherry blossom inside. There was an ‘X’ on the right side of the circle. It was kind of wrinkled a long with her hand but I still thought it looked pretty cool.”

One of the officers that was standing in front of her drawing the description of the tattoo nodded to Tsukauchi. When he looked back at her, she could tell there was more of a hardness to his face. He turned to Enji and Allmight who had been standing next to them to observe.

“If it’s alright, I’d like to just speak to you two alone for a minute.”

They looked at each other before taking a step into the kitchen, away from where Ivy could hear.

“I’m afraid that the nanny may be involved in the disappearance of the boy. The tattoo that Mrs. Todoroki had described matched the same image of another womanms tattoo. They’re believe to be apart of a gang of Villains called the Withered Blossoms. Any crime scene these women have been apart of usually have young men unconscious or dead but with the appearance of someone who is old. Their victims also are left with no money. Apparently they use the youth from their victims to stay alive. There’s no telling how long they’ve been on this earth but we’ve managed to mostly keep them in jail. I’m not sure what they would want Shoto for. Either his youth, or ransom, but I know that we’ll do whatever it takes get him back and those women in maximum security prison.”

Toshinori thanked Mr. Tsukauchi before turning to look at Enji. His gaze was stuck on the ground, thinking about everything that was just explained. He was never one to really show emotion when anyone other than his family was around. Though he wasn’t sure if he’d even get a response, Toshi tried his best to communicate with Enji.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find your son. Everything will be fine.”

Enji scoffed and rolled his eyes.

“Who said I was worried? I know he’ll be okay. He’s a damn Todoroki, of course he’ll be okay.”

Toshi shook his head. He could see the worry on his face. It was written in his furrowed brows. The angry wrinkles on his face. No matter how he tried to hide it, this bothered him deeply.

“It’s not bad to have feelings. Your child is out in the big world and could be in danger. It looks more suspicious not showing worry.”

Enji sighed angrily and looked at Toshi. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was speaking some sense. He didn’t know why he was such a hard ass all the time. There was just a lot of frustration and rage inside of him. The expression on his face softened but he looked away from Toshi.

“You’re right. I’m very upset. That’s.... my youngest out there. He could be scared. He could be hurt. Or.... o-or....”

“Hey. We’re not going to think like that, alright? They’re doing everything they can, looking under every rock for these villains and your son. I have no doubt that we’ll get some good news soon.”

Toshi gave him a nod of reassurance and Enji returned it. They may not get along always but he was glad to have Toshi here to comfort him and Ivy.

Especially Ivy....

This family.... Enji.... the kids.... they meant a lot to her. She was the first person in her family to be born quirkless. They hoped she would grow up and eventually gain one, but, unfortunately, it never happened. When she was in high school, she came home that day to her bags packed and thrown out of the door. They constantly hounded her for not being able to become a pro hero so that she could make them rich. Since she seemed to give no value in their eyes, she was kicked out and forced to live on her own.

After years of hard work, she graduated high school, college, got a job, and did pretty good. All on her own. She met Enji when she was fired and found a job at his agency. Apparently his assistant before her couldn’t handle his explosive temper. The difference between her and Ivy was that she could afford to quit, but Ivy was barely making it and this paycheck could change everything for her.

It was hard. There was almost constant intimidation. The atmosphere of every meeting had tension and no one was brave enough to disturb it. And it only got worse after the incident with Rei Todoroki pouring hot water over her son’s face. There were many rumors that floated around. Even when the truth about Enji putting her in a mental hospital came out, everyone said it was a cover up and that he actually murdered her. Luckily, the world continued to go around.

The agency was fine but it was obvious that Enji wasn’t. There was an aggressiveness and darkness to him that no one had ever seen before. Everyone was afraid to speak to him outside of business but Ivy figured that maybe that’s what he was missing. Someone needed to check on him and something inside of her said that it should be her. It was her character flaw. Even though she’d been through so much, she always felt as if it was her job to take care of the beasts of the world. In her mind, all they needed was love and kindness.

One day, she gathered the courage to talk to him and see how he was doing. When she opened the door to his office, the lights were off. He was just sitting in his chair but facing towards the window. That morning he walked in a nice suit but not the jacket was on the back of his chair and his tie was loosened. He was just sitting there, his head leaning against his hand like he was just done with everything.

“Hello? Mr. Endeavor?”

“What is it?

“I-I wanted to talk about something. Are you busy?”

He sighed and dropped his hand, turning to look at her and permit her to enter before turning back to the outside world.

“Come in.”

She hurried in and closed the door behind her, quietly making her way over to the front of his desk.

“I wanted to check on you.... see how you were doing lately. I’m really worried about you, sir. You haven’t burned as brightly as you used to, so I’m here if you want to talk about anything. I’m sorry if I’m bothering you in anyway, sir.”

When he didn’t respond, she walked to be in his line of sight. He looked so tired. There were bags under his eyes and a sad frown that looked as if it’s been there forever and would never leave. It broke her heart to see him so depressed. She decided to leave. He probably was being nice by not telling her to get out immediately.

“I hope your day gets better, sir...”

Ivy only took a single step before she was stopped, her small wrist in his large hand. When she looked at him, there were streaks of tears on his cheeks.

Suddenly, he pulled her to him and hugged her waist. She could feel him trembling.

“S-She’s gone.... she’s gone.... a-and it’s m-my fault-t.”

Enji’s grip on her tightened and she started to relax. He needed her in that moment and it was necessary that she was there for him.

“It’s going to be okay, sir. It’s going to be alright.”

They talked for a long time. He avoided questions about Rei but she didn’t mind. There were lots of emotions in the room. Maybe it was the sudden opportunity to be vulnerable or how she comes off as a trustworthy person, but he was quick to let her in. He admitted that this was one of the very few times that he made a connection with someone at work. He really appreciated her bravery and that she wanted to actually talk to him.

This was the beginning of their relationship. From coworkers to friends to friends to lovers. Oh how sweet it sounds. Even if it wasn’t always sweet, especially after they were married. So quickly at that. However, it was obvious that they were soulmates. The conflicts weren’t because of her, it was his toxicity. A toxicity that healed when they were together, it heals slowly, but progress is progress.

Now here they were. Enji holding Ivy as her emotions were trying to control themselves. That’s when they got the call from Toshinori. Ivy put her phone on speaker so Enji could hear too.

“We’ve found Shoto and the criminal. We’re bringing your boy home.”

A huge weight felt lifted off of the couple’s shoulders. Enji held onto Ivy as she cried into his chest. Since his hands were preoccupied with holding her, he couldn’t quickly wipe the tears out of his eyes and instead just lowered his face to kiss the top of Ivy’s head.

Shoto was back home within a few hours after an interrogation with the police. The woman had never mentioned anything about what he would be used for, she lured him with the lie that she would take him to see Rei. It made Enji and Ivy furious to find out that someone would make up such a terrible lie to kidnap a child and he vowed to find the rest of the group so they couldn’t hurt anyone else.

After dinner, and putting the kids to bed, Enji received a phone call from a number he didn’t immediately recognize and excused himself to go outside to answer it.

“We need to talk about Natsuo and Fuyumi soon. I believe it’s time that they come home.”

He recognized the voice immediately. Rei’s mother. The current guardian of his other two children.

[the-lost-media-blog]

Saki Sanobashi/Go for a Punch (Warning: Mentions of violence and suicide)

Alright, the first post for my new blog. Teach, if you’re reading this than hi :). Okay, lets get started!

Go For A Punch (also known as Saki Sanobashi) is a supposed lost anime that is speculated to have been made in either the 80′s or early 90′s that only have a sub available.

The first mention of Saki is on a 4-Chan comment on a post in 2015 asking about what was the most messed up thing found on the Deep Web. The comment in question said that they (the one who told the internet about this and will be called OP) they found the Deep Web. OP went on to describe how, in 2011 they found a subbed anime OVA called, at least on the site, ‘Go For A Punch’. In it, they described what it was about, so here’s the brief description:

Nine girls are trapped inside of a bathroom with no way out, they have debates over whether or not they’re going to get out. After days of starving, and being naked for some reason (honestly idk either), all of them commit suicide by either bashing their heads in against the floor/clawing at their throats, with one girl with a bright -almost white- hime cut being drowned by another girl in the sink because she couldn’t do it herself. ( below is a reference image of the hair cut.)

The OP mentions that it was 80′s-ish in quality, most girls had short bushy brown hair (there was also the hime cut girl who might have white hair, there’s a red-head and apparently a blonde?), the eyes were small and far apart, strange camera angels, a scream that sounded like the scream Dies Irae from Stanly Kubrick’s The Shinning, the player on the site is similar to the modern Bing Player, and that there really wasn’t any music. People questioned OP as the whole thing sounded interesting, and defiantly stood out from the troll and basic ‘I saw real gore’ posts. One of these comments is where the name Saki Sanobashi came from.

The search went on for 5 years as of when I’m writing this, blowing up after YouTuber Whang posted a video on November 21, 2019 as apart of his ‘Tales From The Internet’ series, which brought more attention to it as part one has 779k views at the current time of writing.

One thing I would like to note is that many people have claimed to have seen Saki, some going into details that OP didn’t list, but sadly the majority of those posts have been proven false, with one admitting that their lie was only made to show how gullible people are, and will believe that anything’s Saki. 

Many people were hoping to find this lost anime, one person made a series where they go over manga/anime to see if it’s Saki (the series is on YouTube with a least 50 parts). There has been many false leads, one of which includes the profile pic I’m using claiming the girl was from Saki, but it’s not. Another reason for why the search got crazy was because of all the gore filled anime from back then. Like seriously, there’s a lot there some are more known than others. Also, side note, Saki Sanobashi/Go For A Punch has it’s own TV Tropes page, which is how you know it got big. 

But on December 22, 2019 someone claiming to be OP made a post on one of the many sub-reddits. 

They said that they made it all up for laughs since they thought the creator of the original 4-Chan thread was an idiot for expecting a serious answer, and OP’s coming forward since they feel bad for how crazy this all had gotten. Their proof was screen shots of the hime girl (which is above and why I chose it) and a book spine which was OP’s pic for the very first post on 4-chan, both screenshots dated for 2015, as well as the Bing player, and the Dies Irae scream.

Now, many people, like myself, are assuming that this OP might not be the real OP. One of the main reasons being why would they still hold onto those specific images, for nearly 4 years at that point, if it was for a troll post. This OP said it’s because they don’t delete downloaded pics, which sound off to me. I will delete pics on my phone if I don’t see a reason to keep it (example: I’ll keep a pic of the Halloween Timeline so I can keep track of which films are on which timeline, but delete a screenshot from a BuzzFeed quiz). But, never the less, some people gave up on the search, leading one of the sub-reddits to become nothing but memes, and the other ones had to pick up the slack. 

One group on the sub-reddit is claiming to be making the OVA themselves under the title Team Saki, the trailer’s on YouTube so I suggest that you look it up yourself. I’ve also heard of a possible Visual Novel being made of Saki on one of the sub-reddits. Also, there’s tons of fanart of Saki out there, so if you wanna see how some see it then go ahead search if you want to, there’s a whole sub-reddit dedicated just to artwork. On TikTok, there’s plenty of lovely cosplays as well.

Another thing I feel like mentioning is that there’s a music video made by a J-Pop (Japanese Pop) group, that some people claim is inspired by Saki. I kind of see that, I mean, the art shown at the start looks 80′s-ish, and there are some basic similarities. But, that being said, I’m betting it’s all a coincidence, and we have no clue what the Lost Media scene is like in Japan as Lost Media is different in every country (as the Lost Media ice-burg, made in Spanish, has shown). I’ve Googled if it was, and I’ve seen some sites claim that, but I’m sticking with it’s a coincidence until there’s an official claim from the band themselves to confirm the inspiration so I’m not going by word of mouth. 

Here’s the music video if you wanna check it out and there’s also (fake) blood as well as a suicide scene in it, so just to let you know so you’re not caught off guard when it happens. They stay dressed though, with only the pantyhose getting cut. Here’s the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2kBK33DvIoM

So as of when I’m writing, all we have is the mentioned teaser, concept art on the sub-reddit for both the animation and visual novel, an odd half live-action half drawn recreation clip made October 30, 2019. As well as just loads of dead ends. Some people hope that if we find it, or at the very least Team Saki turns out good or it leads to the real deal comes out because of something like a copyright claim or something.

I personally believe that it could exist some where out there, but maybe under a different name and somewhat buried on the internet. I meant if something that was banned such as Shoujo Tsukubki can find it’s way onto YouTube (aka the Surface Web/ Clear net) then it’s honestly possible it’s out there.

Either that or I just wasted your time with reading about something that might not even exist, so here have a kitty!

GO FOR A PUNCH/SAKI’S CURRENT STATUS:  Existence unconfirmed, but fan projects are being made.

[dobsmoneylake]

Egbert the Wingman on his latest attempt at atonement. You pick the couple he decides to "help". Bonus points for Seal Giamen cameo

Thank you so much for the prompt!!! I hope that you enjoy it!!

This is unbeta'd because I feel like dying like a man today. Also, I don't own any of it.

The day started out just as any other. Egbert woke to the waves rocking the boat, the smell of gunpowder, and a large seal angrily bomfing at him because it was breakfast time. “Alright, alright,” he said, pushing the seal away from him and rolling out of the bed. “Good morning to you too.”

Seal Gaiman just stared at him with a stern expression on his face before bomfing again and making his way to the door.

“Alright, let’s see what we can ‘borrow’ from Corazón this time,” Egbert said, making his way out of the door.

“Egbert, are you talking to that dumb seal again?” Corazón said, making his way out from below deck, “I thought we’d talked about this.”

“You let Merilwen talk to animals all the time!”

Corazón rolled his eyes. “Merilwen uses magic to talk to animals. If you were doing that, it wouldn’t be weird,” he made his way to the ladder that led above deck, “I just refreshed the larder with pickles. Make sure to keep the seal out of them.”

“Sure thing,” Egbert said with an agreeable smile. He waited until Corazón had made his way up to the top of the deck before turning to look back at the now disappeared Seal Gaiman. “Come on, mate, where are you at?”

A series of seal noises and a clutter led to the seal curled up in said barrel of pickles.

“Come on, Corazón told us to stay out of there!” When the seal steadfastly refused to move, Egbert shook his head. “Well, I’m not helping you out this time!”

Making his way upstairs, Egbert passed Prudence’s door (there was no mysterious humming and chanting coming from within this morning) and nearly ran into Dob, who was standing with Meril-cat on his shoulders.

“Oh, there you are, Egbert,” Dob said happily. “I’m supposed to tell you that we are going to spend the day in town and then we will be leaving this evening. Corazón says ‘don’t be late, but also, I don’t want to see you lot for the rest of the day. Captain’s orders!’” He smiled brightly.

“Sounds good, what do you want to do then?”

Dob shifted uncomfortably. “I’m sorry Egbert, but I promised Merilwen I’d spend the day with her. We’re going to see how many taverns will adopt her as a bar cat!” Said cat was still resting imperiously on his shoulder.

“Ah, okay. Well, I guess that I can use this time to check in with La Vache Mauve.”

“Sounds good to me, buddy,” Dob said, before leaving the ship with the cat on his shoulder.

Left alone on the main deck, Egbert shifted uncomfortably. It had been a while since he had the silence he needed to talk to the cow. On the other hand, silence was still silence. And if there was one thing Egbert knew, it was that all silence existed to be wonderfully broken.

As he was thinking this, the sun appeared to glow a little bit purple. Looking at it longer, Egbert watched as it slowly turned, revealing the purple cow that he followed.

“La Vache Mauve!” He exclaimed happily.

“Yes, child,” the cow replied. “Now, I see that you have been making steps toward atonement.”

“I try,” he responded dutifully, “It’s slow going, though. It’s not easy, you know!”

“The path to make up for our past mistakes is never easy, young one,” the image in the sky shifted to look stern, “But if we are not able to walk it when the road is tough, we are not really walking it at all.”

Egbert took a slow breath, pondering that. “I think I understand,” he said. “I will continue to walk the path, even when it is tough.”

Countenance shifting into a please expression, La Vache Mauve went on, “As it is, it is time for you to take the next step in your journey. Two of your companions are struggling to be true to themselves and each other. You must help them take the next step they need toward truth.”

Egbert nodded. That sounded doable. “Which of my two companions are you talking about?” He asked.

“That is something you already know, you must think about it and go from there,” with a moo, the sun had turned again, and Egbert was left on the boat alone.

That didn’t last long as he grabbed his trusty mace and bombs and leapt over the side of the boat. La Vache Mauve may not have said who he was supposed to help, but if there were a liar in the group that he traveled with, it was definitely Corazón De Ballena, and Egbert had a feeling that where he found Corazón, he would find the other member being untruthful to themselves.

Sure enough, as he turned around the corner, he had to stop suddenly so as to not draw the attention of the pirate. Corazón was at one of the stalls of artisanal meats, but instead of looking at the wares, he was standing behind one of the barrels and staring across the market. Confused, Egbert followed his gaze . . . oh.

Standing at a shop and looking at various baubles was none other than Prudence. She didn’t seem to notice either of them, and as Egbert watched, she selected a bauble and brought it to the counter, leaning in to touch the shop keeper’s arm and laughing at what he said. After some words were exchanged, she paid for the bauble with some coin and turned around, letting a smirk show off her face. She then walked out of the market area confidently, seemingly still not noticing the two people watching her.

Egbert turned to look back at Corazón, who was still looking at the stall Prudence had been sitting at with a pinched expression and his arms crossed tightly across his chest. Suddenly, he strode off, following her path into the next area and leaving Egbert alone.

Crossing his arms across his chest, Egbert thought. Dob had mentioned thinking that Corazón may have stronger feelings for Prudence than he was letting on. The two were close, and if there was one thing Prudence did lie about, it was her emotions. Standing, straighter, Egbert resolutely followed them.

Operation: Gain Atonement By Hooking Up Your Teammates was on.

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

As Egbert strode into the next area, he was immediately grateful that it was busy. It allowed him to blend into the crowd better. Unfortunately, it also allowed Corazón to blend into the crowd better, which meant that he was still able to tail Prudence as she went on her shopping spree, this time entering an antique shop. This had to stop.

Filled with a spurt of inspiration, Egbert wandered into a more secluded area and started casting “Find Steed.” 10 minutes later, he had a dog and a Prudence was coming back out of the antique shop.

“Hey there, boy,” he said, leaning down to pet the dog. “I need you to cause a commotion and bring Prudence and Corazón together, okay?”

With a quick bark, the dog went off to do as he commanded, running into the middle of the crowd and howling before growling and leaping up on the counter by where Corazón was hiding, grabbing a piece of meat off of it and jumping down. Shaking his head, the Dogbert threw the meat in Corazón’s direction, causing him to dodge out of the way . . . and into one of the barrels that sat outside of the stall, just as Prudence walked into a nearby tavern.

Dogbert sat back and looked at Corazón, who was now sprawled against one of the barrels, before coming back and sitting down at Egbert’s feet.

“Yeah, that’s fair,” Egbert said, reaching down to pet his head. “Good boy.”

A few minutes later, Corazón had recovered from his spill and made his way into the tavern. Egbert followed him inside, deciding that he could always pretend to be a dragonborn gargoyle if it looked like he was about to be spotted.

It turns out that this was unnecessary, as Corazón had taken a seat at the bar and was drawing all the attention to himself. Well, “taking a seat” wasn’t the best description of what was going on-- more like he had sprawled himself against the bar and was loudly describing his recent “heroic adventures.” Somehow, the slight scratches he bore from crashing into the barrel had turned into scars he had received tumbling through cliffs while being chased by a villainous beast, which he had of course managed to trick and then slay without any further harm to himself.

The worst part was that it appeared that the people in this tavern were utter fools. A group of men (more like boys, really, they clearly had never left the town) were listening, egging him on. And there were women (again, more like girls) who were seated next to him, saying things like “that must have been so scary” and “wow, you are so brave!”

As Egbert himself sat down at one of the seats near the main aisle, he spotted Prudence, who was seated in a shadowed corner and seemed to be drinking her ale very fast. She was clenching the tankard she was holding so tight her knuckles were red, and her whole body had gone stiff, much like a very unhappy cat. She also kept shooting furtive looks in Corazón’s direction before looking back at the table in front of her.

All of a sudden, there was a commotion from the bar as Corazón stood up, loudly announcing, “And now I will show you how I, Corazón De Ballena, master swordsman, took down the fierce monsters!” He shuffled his feet into a fencing pose and held out his hands as if he was holding a rapier, quickly moving through the motions of the supposed fight. Nearby, the girls around him gasped and giggled in glee.

As Corazón got closer and closer to him (and Prudence), Egbert saw his chance and subtly stuck out his foot. The pirate, so focused on his performance, didn’t notice, and sure enough, he tripped, flailing wildly before stumbling over and tripping on another chair leg. Through an impressive series of events that only could have happened because a cow was watching over them, Corazón stumbled and tripped through the tavern, before finally landing square in Prudence’s lap.

Immediately, both of them froze, locking wide eyes. Indeed, they were not the only ones frozen, as the whole tavern went silent.

Then Prudence roughly shoved Corazón off of her, causing him to roll on the floor and land on his back. “I hope you fight monsters better than you fight the empty air,” she taunted before making her way out of the room.

Propping himself up on his arms, Corazón watched her leave before suddenly jumping up, standing like a peacock. “Alright, which one of you pushed me?” He demanded, “That is unacceptable, and I will have my vengeance!!”

Egbert was already gone.

***********

As he left the tavern, Egbert looked around wildly before realizing that Prudence had successfully escaped into the crowd. Even though it should be easy to find a ruby red tiefling among all of the people, she was nowhere to be seen.

As he was thinking this, Corazón walked out of the tavern and looked around before deflating. Noticing Egbert, he walked up to him. “Where’s Prudence?” He demanded.

“Why should I know?” Egbert asked.

“You were OUT HERE, Egbert! It doesn’t seem hard to keep track of her when you can see where she’s gone!”

Egbert shrugged. “Sorry, I was too busy trying to pick out a new barrel of pickles.”

“I can’t believe you let the seal into my pickles and you lost Prudence! I’m going to get drunk, and I don’t want to see any of you until later on!” He stormed back into the tavern.

Egbert sighed and fought the urge to bury his head in his face. There went his chance at atonement.

As he was thinking that, the sun seemed to shift and La Vache Mauve appeared in it yet again. “Well done, my child.”

“What are you talking about?” Egbert kicked a rock. “I failed. They didn’t reveal any truths to each other.”

“Remember that in life, every step made on the journey is a valuable one,” came the reply. “This is a lesson that is relevant to their story as well as to yours. Atonement, like truth, will only come once you’ve waited.” Before Egbert could say anything in reply, the cow had disappeared again.

“Well, that’s deeply unhelpful,” Egbert said to himself before setting out to find some pickles.

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

Later that evening, all was quiet on The Joyful Damnation. Dob and Merilwen had come back to the ship laughing gleefully about having turned her into the best tavern cat ever. Egbert had removed Seal Gaiman from the pickle bucket and had retired to bed, trying to find peace from the day. Prudence had returned to the ship before the others and had retired to her quarters for some rest. And Corazón made his way back last, stumbling aboard the ship and making his way to the captain’s quarters.

As he walked inside, he started unbuttoning his top, preparing to sleep, before sensing something off about the room. Looking side to side, he didn’t see anything-- until he looked up and saw the familiar glowing eyes of the party’s tiefling.

If asked, Corazón would tell you that he always responded to things in the most epic and dignified manner ever. In actuality, he jumped back in shock and let out a series of impressive swear words. Taking a few breaths and clutching his chest in shock, he finally managed to get a few words. “What are you doing in here?” He demanded. “I thought we agreed Captain’s Quarters were off limits!! And that you shouldn’t Spider Climb on my ship!!”

“You said that; I pretended to listen,” Prudence shrugged, dropping down from ceiling onto the floor. “And I’m here because as stupid as you and your stories are, those scratches are fresh and you’ll probably let them get infected and then I’ll have to hear you complain about it. So I’m going to clean them out for you.”

Corazón blustered. “I don’t need your help, Prudence! As the captain and leader of this ship, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself! In fact, I should be helping you!”

“Uh huh,” Prudence said, grabbing his shoulders and pushing him onto the bed before grabbing one of his arms and examining it. “You have splinters in here, by the way.” Her touch was gentle as she set about removing them and cleaning the scratches.

Corazón froze for a few minutes, staring out of the wall but watching her out of the corner of his eye. When she didn’t make any motion to look anywhere other than his arm, he relaxed, but he continued to pointedly not watch her. “It’s not that bad,” he muttered.

“It never is with you,” Prudence responded matter-of-factly, dropping the arm she was looking at and picking up the other one. “It doesn’t look like these will need bandaging, but it also means they won’t scar, so you won’t get to impress girls with them much longer.”

“So you admit they’re impressive?” He puffed out his chest.

“They could be considered impressive if I didn’t see you roll straight into a barrel of salt trying to avoid a puppy,” she corrected him, raising an eyebrow and meeting his eyes.

“It was bigger than a puppy. It was a real beast, Prudence, I was just protecting the townspeople,” Corazón flushed.

“Ah yes, I got to see your prowess up close and personal in the tavern,” she remarked wryly, smirking as his face went redder. “Somebody sure was clumsy today, weren’t they?”

“Clumsy? I am never clumsy, I am the epitome of grace and dexterity at all times . . . OW!”

Holding up the splinter she had taken out mid rant, Prudence raised her eyebrow. “Truly, you’re the most impressive man I know,” she said before chuckling and dropping his hand. “Well, I think you can handle yourself from here.” As she left, she stopped to look at him. “Sleep well, Corazón,” and she slipped out of the room.

Watching her leave, Corazón shook his head and ran his fingers over his arm gently before laying down and falling into a peaceful slumber.

Watching overhead, La Vache Mauve smiled.

[gravesofheirscog]

Hello, it's me again! Oh no!

First, I hope you're alright, it's getting hot where I live, so if it's the same for you--stay hydrated, rest a lot and stay healthy!

Now, I have a question, and I'm very sorry if you answered that one somewhere. I tried looking but Tumblr on mobile is a bi--not so nice app, he.

Also, please feel free to not answer or take your time, since it might be bothersome, so I would totally understand!! That being said, here's my question.

You gave a description for the CI/ROs, but some of them, at least as far as I saw, are lacking description of the length of their hair, style of it etc. So I was wondering--again, only if you have the time, so no rush or anything!--if you could give a more detailed description of how everyone looks? Mainly hair length, style, do they have sharp looking eyes, big ones, prominent eyelashes, birthmarks, freckles, how do their bangs fall, are they all smiley or do they frown constantly..all the good stuff!

I know most author like to keep it vague and I understand, but as an artist, I personally love to have characters described as detailed as possible. Not only for my imagination but maybe also doodle purposes lol

Also, if you maaaaybe have the time to give out color palettes for them...?

I'm so so very sorry to ask you something so bothersome. So again, please feel free to ignore this or tell me that you don't have time, I will definitely understand!! But if you ever are super bored and have time on your hand, I'd be forever grateful to you!

It's not weekend yet, but pretty close, so I hope you have a wonderful rest of the week! <3

It's okay - you can say it. Tumblr APP IS A BITCH!!!!! LMAO ITS THE WORSTEST!!!

Also I hope you stay cool and healthy as well - I know other places have it way worse for heat than I do so I really hope everyone's staying safe and cool. ❤❤❤

Also never worry about bugging me! I'm slow to respond but I always love talking to everyone, even if it's about something random! Thank you so much for the ask!!! I always love answering your questions!

So, admittedly these kind of descriptions aren't my strong suit lol but I will give it my best! There will also be more detailed descriptions of them all in the upcoming demo (it's getting so close to releasing!!!!) so there'll be that too. There'll be a big sticking point about their hair styles going into the next part of the demo so I hope you don't mind if I hold onto my bigger descriptions until the next update is out.

What I've done is I've tried my hand at making some artbreeder portraits (warning: they are not good lmao it was my first time trying it out) and some colour schemes (again, really basic - I'm so sorry <( _ _ )> ). Also when applicable I've added some of the reference images I used when initially designing the characters.

Originally I was going to respond to this post with all of that but tumblr being the lil bitch it is won't let me post more than ten pictures. 😤 I'm setting them up in the queue tonight so that they're ready tomorrow.

Thank you so much for the ask and questions! Hopefully what I've prepared is good enough, lol!

Possibly by the time you see this it'll be Friday (still Thursday for me) so please have an awesome weekend as well!!!! 🥰🥰🥰😊😊😊

[elysiashelby]

In Another World - T. Shelby Imagine Ch. 4

Paring: (Eventual) Thomas Shelby x Aliena Welsh (OC)

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Word Count: 5, 257

WARNINGS: Angst, Cursing, Explicit Attempted R*pe Scene, Descriptive Murder Scene, Recollection of Past Molestation

Summary: Aliena Welsh has been living in the universe of the show Peaky Blinders for 8 months now. She feels like family more now than ever since she has a role for everyone in the family. But as she delivers the Shelby Brothers’ their food at the Garrison, trouble brews. She will commit something that will never go away for the rest of her life. 

MASTERLIST  CHAPTER 3.3  CHAPTER FIVE

A/N: HI! If you skipped to this chapter, that’s completely fine! I tried including the most important parts that took place in the extras. 

READ THE WARNINGS! THE 1ST LINE BREAK IN THIS CHAP MEANS THE SCENE IS STARTING!! LOOK FOR THE 2ND IF YOU WANT TO SKIP THE SCENE!! 

THANKS FOR READING!

It's been two months since the incident happened. Meaning I have been with the Shelby family for eight months in total. I did not get over it the night after, it took a week. 

Instead of getting over it the next day, I had tried drowning myself in work but they didn't let me, which led to me breaking down. It was embarrassing. Another bath was drawn for me and on that night, I had smoked my first cigarette. It made me both calm and riddled with anxiety. So, I haven't touched one since. 

I call Thomas, Tommy now. It happened after the incident. It was like I was a part of the family, in a way. I mean I hope I was considered family. After all, I do cater to every emotional need in the family. I act motherly/older sister-like to the children including Finn, a younger sister to Ada, a daughter to Polly, and I'm a coping mechanism to the rest of the boys. The nights that I'm not soothing Arthur, I'm with Tommy. John is pretty alright. To be frank, he has a tighter grip on demons than his brothers. However, I believe that's only because he doesn't want his kids to ever find out, or he has his different outlets that I don't know about. 

It has been really nice to sleep beside someone. By someone, I mean Tommy. You see, we had this agreement that I would just talk his ear off throughout the night, and he wouldn't use his opium pipe anymore. Now, I know he doesn't see me that way, but c'mon! He's just so fit! I honestly don't know if he's aware that I got a crush on 'em, but I just hope he's kept it to himself. I was never one for subtly in any of my pursuits. I always had a habit of staring. 

As I was sweeping away all the dirt in the house, I got incredibly bored. Since it was only Finn around, hopefully, doing his homework that I gave 'em! I began to sing. 

"Bitch, don't steal my man. He's got a weakness for girls like you. We both know you can. But I really need him more than you." 

It was so liberating to be able to comfortably sing. I started to get more into it. 

"You're a supermodel, shaped just like a bottle…" I held on to the broom, but made an outline of an hourglass figure with me free hand. 

"He could run his fingers through your hair." I raised my hands, ran my fingers through my hair, and jerked it behind my shoulders. 

"I bet you're a good time girl. But don't you know he's mine though?" I danced around my broom and then pointed to meself on the last lyric. 

"I was running around for a minute. Now he's the only one who can get it." I sang while smacking me hip lightly, trying not to make any other unnecessary noise. 

"So bitch, don't steal my man. He's got a weakness for girls like you. We both know you can. But I really need him more than you." While singing, I put on a sad expression. It was more like a childish pout. 

"Maybe I can fake it. Fake it 'til you make it." At this point, I had me eyes closed and was zoned in on singing. I started to dance slowly. 

"I can't promise, I'll be cordial. Got a mouth just like a trucker." Oddly enough, I started to sink down till I was crouching, but me knees were touching. I was also patting parts of me body as I went down. 

‘I really can't describe movements to save my life!’

"I can't even be a lady. Out in public for my mother, motherfucker." On the last lyric, I immediately stood up. I turned around, opened me eyes for a split second, and grasped the broom again. 

With me eyes now closed, I continued. "But bitch, don't steal my man. He's got a weakness for girls like you. We both know you can. But I really need him more than you." I put on the same sad expression to really feel the song. 

With the broom hugged against me body, I began to sway with it. "I won't blame him if he leaves me for you, oh." 

Me swaying came to a halt. "I won't even blame him if one day he runs off with you." I felt me own heart break for me imaginary lover's affair. Me voice came out softer than I expected.

 I didn't like that so I tried singing the next lyrics with a more happy tone. "Bitch, don't steal my man. He's got a weakness for girls like you. We both know you can. But I really need him more than you." I danced around the broom with more energy. I felt the sway of me dress with each turn. 

"Yeah. Oh, oh-oh. Oh, oh, oh. Don't steal my man. Bitch, don't steal my man. Don't steal my man." As I sang out the last of the lyrics, I stood still and opened me eyes. 

I expected silence, maybe even just Finn peaking in but it was worse. I was met with thunderous applause from the Shelby brothers, even Tommy. 

John hooted and whistled while clapping. "Whoo! We got ourselves an exclusive singer!"

"You're fucking right, John-boy! We 'ave our very own songbird." Arthur shouted. 

Tommy just had this smug smile on his face. 

I cringed at their "compliments''. I cringed very harshly from their comments! The worst part is that I can't tell if they're being sincere or not! "Piss off! Why didn't youse say anything? I'll make yez your scran then do one." I balanced the broom on the wall and shoved meself past them into the kitchen. All three of them started to fucking giggle. 

"Don't tell me you got so flustered that we brought out your scouser! Eh, Ali!" Tommy shouted. 

I sucked on me teeth. A habit I picked up from Tommy. I adopted it before I came here, though. It was actually a tick from Cillian, but he did it so many times as Tommy in the show, and well the real Tommy actually does it a lot. So, there was no getting rid of it!

‘I don’t why Tommy is acting so smug as if I don’t ‘ave to sing ‘em sad songs every night just so he can fuckin’ fall asleep. The bastard!’ 

"Shut up! Now, are youse gonna eat leftovers or am I making sandwiches?" I reached for plates that were in the cupboards and put them on the counter. 

"We'll have the leftovers, Ali." Tommy replied. 

I walked over to the icebox and took it out.

After they finished with eating and teasing, I had to finish cleaning up. It was especially difficult today because I decided to do a musical fucking number and Finn managed to work up the courage to ask me for help on his homework. 

By then, I was working on dinner with Polly. I did the peeling and chopping of the potatoes and carrots. She was making soup. We were debating about who Ada had been sneaking off with at night. I knew it was Freddie Thorne, but I was not going to be a snitch. Besides, she’s been using me as a scapegoat and I’m fine with her racking up her “I.O.U’s.”

The phone went off which Polly answered. I heard bits of it, but I was really trying hard not to be geggin' in. 

Polly sighed before saying, "Tommy rang said that they'll be eating at the Garrison. Go and take it to them, yeah?" 

I nodded in response. I got up and put our bowls into the sink. 

"Don't worry about the dishes tonight. I'll do those. Just give this to them and you'll be down for the night." 

I got me basket and put in three bowls and spoons. I lowered it ‘till it rested in the crook of me elbow, and then carried the pot of soup using both of me hands. Polly got the door. We said our goodbyes and I began me journey. 

As I was walking, men tipped their hats to me or bid me goodnight. It was strange to me for months in the beginning, but I've gotten quite used to it. It happens anytime I'm out and abar. 

As I got closer to the pub, I noticed these three young lads leaning against a wall outside. I wasn't sure at first but as I drew nearer to the door, their heads followed me. The middle one must have known the jig was up ‘cause he actually had the nerve to whistle at me. Like a dog. 

It stopped me in me tracks. I've never been treated this way in me whole life. After I became the Shelby family's maid, Tommy made it clear that nobody could touch me. I was off limits. Everyone in Birmingham knew that. But that didn't stop this cheeky lad who kept catcalling me and inching closer. I shook me head and then continued on. 

A man who was walking out greeted me, saw I was holding a pot, then held open the door for me to walk in, and even opened the second door. I thanked him. I walked over and knocked on the door to the snug. Arthur opened it after like five minutes of me waiting. 

"Here's your dinner. I'm off." I said while placing both the pot and the basket down.

"Oh c'mon, Ali. Stay 'n 'ave a laugh with us!" John shouted as he passed out the plates and spoons to his brothers. 

I shook me head with a smile on me face. His loud behavior made me want to laugh. But there was this sense of anxiety that washed over me.

'Maybe I should stay.' I thought. 

Me nerves were unsettled by the lads who were outside. I didn't want to know if they were waiting on me to come back outside. 

‘I would be safer in here.’ 

I stroked the edge of the table and took notice of its coldness. 

'Maybe I was just being paranoid. I should just go home. I would just ruin their fun.' 

"Aliena, are you alright?" Tommy asked. His eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

I smiled. It was, secretly, a sad smile. "Yeah, just grand. I'mma head on home. See youse tomorrow. Night!"

They all shouted back the same and I left. I kept the image of Tommy in me mind as I walked out of the pub. The cold air was nice against me hot face. But it didn't stop me from seeking warmth. I crossed my arms over me chest and hid me hands with me arms.

"Oi! Pretty lady! Wanna have a good time with us?"

"Yeah, come on! Show us a good time."

"You know, we're not from here."

I knew they were trying to close the gap between us. I tried walking faster. 

I could hear the pounding of their footsteps before I could react. Suddenly, there was a tight grip on me forearm and he yanked me toward himself. I gasped in surprise. 

"Come on, love. We came all the way from London to this shit city. Staying at this shitty hostel called… Something with Betty in it. So, how 'bout you fucking show me and my mates a good fucking time?" He squeezed me face in his hands. 

Me breathing quickened and heart was caught in me throat. 

"Le-Let me go! Fuck off!" I screamed. 

I managed to tear his hand off me face and I kicked his knee. He groaned in pain while doubling over to support it. I started to run, but I didn't manage to get very far. One of the others caught up to me. He caught me arms, swung me 'round, and slapped me across the face. 

Me ear rang and I felt a lot of pain. "Let me go! Stop it! Help me! Somebody help me!" I yelled as I tried putting me feet down, but he just kept dragging me. 

Nobody was helping me. 

'I'm scared. I don't wanna be raped!' I kept chanting over and over. 

Eventually, the guy tugged me into his arms and shoved me into an alleyway. I groaned on impact. Me stockings ripped and me hands skidded on the cement. I raced to get back up, but the man that threw me, bunched up the collar of me coat and threw me against the wall. I yelped and started seeing stars. Pain exploded throughout me head. But even then I knew he was taking off me coat. 

I heaved out a breath. He took that chance to shove his tongue in me mouth. It was so revolting. He tasted of booze, ciggies, and pure bad breath. I bit down on his tongue. He cried out in pain. He held his mouth. His grip was still tight on me collar. I tried running the other way since his friends were blocking the entrance of the alleyway, but he tugged me back and punched me. 

Now, that fucking hurt. I froze instantly. The pain was too much. I started sobbing. 

"Shut up!" He demanded. 

I didn't listen. So, I got a knee to the stomach. I grunted in pain and doubled over. He didn't let me soothe meself as he yanked me back up and started to attack me neck. 

I heard and felt as he ripped me dress open. I tried harder to push against his torso. I tried pushing him off of me. He ripped me bra and I felt his tongue roam me chest. I cried out. I was disgusted. Me stomach was churning. I reached up and yanked him by his hair. 

He shouted in pain and punched me in me ribs. I groaned. 

From the corner of my eye, I could see his two friends just staring at us. They were enjoying watching me struggle. They were smoking and sharing a bevvy. They were smiling at the sight of me, they were laughing at me!

He didn't stop there. He grabbed me by me arms and threw me against the wall multiple times. I tried sticking out me neck forward. It was an attempt to protect me head and it worked… a little. I was completely out of it by the time he stopped doing it. 

I could feel yet I was also numb to it. It was like the incident all over again. I still thrashed me arms around, but it was so weak. I was so beaten. Me body was not used to this. It wanted to shut down. I knew it did. But then me fingers grazed something on his upper torso. Me breath hitched. 

It knew this spot to be special. Tommy had a special spot here too. It was a gun holster. I felt me attacker raise me left leg and push my panties aside. 

After that it was such a blur. It all happened so fast. 

I took the gun out of its holster, pressed it into his torso, cocked it, and pulled the trigger. The shot rang through me ears. All I heard was white noise after that. 

I held onto the back of his neck, supporting his weight by leaning him on me body, looked to my right and saw that his friends had run off. It was then that I heard his choking gasps. I felt nothing. I pushed his body off of me and cocked the gun again. His fingers started to outline his bullet wound. He stared up at me in shock. 

He held his hands up, begging for his life. I looked down and stared at his leg. I aimed and fired. He screamed in agony. I cocked the gun. I aimed at his shoulder and fired. Another scream ripped from his throat. 

At that moment, I felt me mouth twitch upward. I felt meself smirk. Me eyes widened like a madman. I felt powerful. I walked closer to him and stood over his body. Slowly, I cocked the gun. He whimpered and put his hands up slowly. Hands covered in his own blood. I relished the terror in his eyes. 

I felt the smile expand on me face and I aimed for the middle of his forehead. I exhaled sharply before closing me mouth up. The action caused me to giggle uncontrollably. He sobbed louder but also somewhat slurred. He was dying. I knew that and he knew that. 

So, I withdrew the gun and took a small stumbling step back. I contorted me face in fear— it was all an act, and watched as he put his guard down. I stayed like that for about a minute before I couldn't manage to hide me smile anymore even while biting me lip. In a flash, his face lit back up in terror and that's when I took a step forward and pulled the trigger. The smile fell from me face. His hot blood had splattered all over me face, blowback I heard it was called.

"Oi!" A man shouted. 

I looked up to see no one that I would know. However, the man was wearing a peaked cap and was accompanied by three others. All guns were raised and pointed at me. 

They inched closer to me and I took a real stumbling step back. 

One man gasped. "That's Aliena Welsh. Mr. Shelby's maid!"

They put down their guns and rushed to me. I just stood there. Then, I looked down and stared at the gun. Me hands were trembling like leaves, but it was all an act. One of the Peaky men held out his hand toward me, I flinched and he stopped. 

"Miss, let's get you home. We'll take care of 'em. Come now, dear." He gestured to the gun and reluctantly I gave it to him. Another man gave me his coat. I wrapped myself around it. 

"Come, Miss." He waved me to follow him. 

I looked back and watched as the other men started to deal with the body. One man hauled him up by his armpits while another picked him up by his legs. 

Almost in a trance, I said. "No. I'm going home by meself. Go 'n tell, Tommy, what’s happened." 

Then, I rushed past him. At first, I was speed walking and then I was running. I was running with one hand holding onto me torn dress. The man’s coat had flown off of me shoulders. I was basically just covering me chest. Me stomach was on full display, though. 

But, of course, me suffering would not end. Me heel got caught and I tripped. I caught meself but it made me pre-existing wounds hurt even more. I sat there in the middle of the sidewalk. Panting for breath. Me lungs, no, not just me lungs. Everything hurt. Especially, me head. 

'I'm finished,’ I thought, ‘I can never go back now. I can’t go back to my family after I’ve killed someone. I-I can never be saved by any higher power, or have salvation for my soul. I... I killed him.’

I started to laugh, maniacally. I just giggled and laughed. Until they turned into blood curdling screams. Once I lost breath, I desperately inhaled and then sprang myself up. I continued running until I got home. With the door in sight, I started to sob. The worst part of it was that I wasn't crying because of what happened. It was because I knew I needed to look distraught. I knew deep down that I had absolutely no regrets pulling that trigger. 

I probably even liked it. 

I started banging on the door. I could hear Polly yell for me to stop. I didn't. Not until she ripped open the door. I saw as her gaze contorted from angry to something else, maybe astonishment. She brought her hands to her mouth. Her eyes watered which made me look away. 

"Oh my god." She whispered. Polly sounded so choked up. Her sadness seeped into her words. 

Her hands slowly reached out to me. They were shaking so much. And I broke. I started to cry, sob, wail. 

"Polly! Polly… " I repeated her name over and over. She drew me into a hug and helped me inside. I hid me face in the crook of her neck. 

"Sh! It's alright, love. I have you now. Ada! You're safe now. ADA, GET DOWN HERE THE FUCK NOW!"

I knew she was leading me into the living room. She helped me sit down and she never stopped stroking me hair. 

Before Ada could ask any questions, Polly told her to bring the tub in and to draw me a bath with hot water. I was still crying. I sounded awful. 

"Pol, what's happened?" Ada asked as she poured the hot water into the tub. 

"I don't know! Just focus on what I've told you to do! Ali, love, I'm goin' to be right back. You need ice for your face." She kissed the temple of me forehead and then unwrapped me from her. 

I looked at her empty spot with hollow eyes. Then, I trailed over to Ada. Her mouth hanging open slightly. 

I gulped. Me mouth was completely dry. The tub was full. I stood up slowly. I didn't even realize it would hurt. Hell, I didn't even realize that there was blowback on me breasts and neck, not just me face. I slipped a finger under the strap of me bra and carefully slipped both it and me dress off of me body. 

As I went to take off me panties, I suddenly remember I had thigh high stockings. I closed me eyes shut and sat back down. A wince left me mouth. I kicked off me heels, reached down, and tugged them off with very strained effort. When I stood back up, heels clicked on the floor meaning Polly was back. I slid off me panties and then entered the tub. 

Ada tried to protest but it was too late. I had already submerged me body in the scathing hot water. It burned and yes, and Polly yelled at me for it. But then I got used to it and she was holding the makeshift ice pack against the left of me face where the bastard struck me the most. Ada, with a towel in hand, was scrubbing the blood off of me body. She was being so delicate with me.

That was when the door flew open and in came the Shelby brothers. The sound of the door banging on the wall made me cringe. I closed me eyes at the sound. Just as I was tipping me head back, me face was grasped and inspected. 

"Who did this? What the fuck happened!" Tommy shouted. 

"Stop your fucking shouting! She hasn't said a word… Aliena, love. Can you tell us what happened?" Polly asked. 

Languidly, I opened me eyes. Tommy's eyes were blown wide. And, I could finally read his face. He was angry and worried. I looked behind 'em and saw John and Arthur were doing no better. Arthur was raising a fist to his mouth repeatedly before striking the couch. John was pacing back and forth while sniffing a lot. Ada was crying beside me. She took her hand in mine. 

I felt loved. I felt safe. 

I exhaled loudly with me cheeks puffed. I made a kind of "oo" noise like when women give birth. I swallowed a sob and began to speak. 

"There was these three fuckers outside the Garrison. They were eyeing me real hard before I went in. I thought I saw wrong because well, no one in the city disrespects me. Ha!" I looked away from Tommy as I ran me tongue over the inside of me cheek. "When I went back out, they had already gotten like closer. They were catcalling me. Saying things like I should show them a good time. That I owed it to them since they were from out of town." I scoffed and looked down at me chest. 

Me bare chest. It was still covered in blood. Me face contorted. I was filthy. I had a disgusting man's blood on me body. I raised me hands and started rubbing on me skin. It had dried somewhat. It wasn't coming off! I started to hyperventilate and scratch at me skin. 

"Eh, stop that, Ali! Eh! Aliena, stop that!" Tommy took my hands from me neck and into his. Me eyes widened and I could feel me head twitching to the right. 

His thumb made small strokes up and down me hand and I started to calm down. 

"One of them ran to me when I started speeding up. He grabbed me and I screamed for help. I tried fighting. Kicked his knee and ran for it. But another one caught up to me, swung me 'round, and slapped me. I kept screaming for help, but nobody was… " I took a deep breath. "They threw me in an alley and then against the wall. I kept on fighting. The guy who was gonna… Well, he was wearing a gun. So, I… I-!"

I shook me head, violently. "I shot 'em, Tommy. I took his gun and shot 'em. His mates ran off. And yeah…" I slipped me hands out of his grasp and finally allowed me head to tilt down as I rested me eyes. 

I muttered. "Me virtue lives to fight another day." I snickered, mirthlessly.

I felt rather than saw Tommy's explosive response. He slammed his hands against the tub while screaming, "Fuck!" 

Polly and Ada both gasped. 

"Did they tell you anything else, love? Like where they were planning on taking you? Or where they came from?" Polly asked, always quick to regain composure. 

I nodded. "Said they'd come from London. Staying at Betty's. I think that meant that lodging place that's run by that… "

"Semi-retired prostitute." Tommy finished. "Right. John, Arthur! Let's go!" 

Polly didn't even try stopping them. The door closed with the same bang. I started to cry again and this time I had two women soothing me. 

They cleaned the blood off of me. They washed it off of me body and hair. They put me in a nightgown and Polly brushed out me hair. Afterward, Polly sent Ada up to bed and we cuddled on the couch. 

I cleared me throat. "This isn't the first time. Not even when Tommy brought me home that day two months ago. No. The first time it happened was when I was 13 or 14. Me ma’ let me have a bevvy for the first time. It was Thanksgiving 'n all. I got so bevied up that me sis offered me to sleep in her room. I wanted to see the baby, so everyone went along with it. You see, I was supposed to sleep at the end of the bed while she was supposed to sleep next to her husband. It didn't end up like that. I slept next to 'em with the baby in the middle of us, and my sister was at the bottom. 

It was fine 'til I woke up and he was fondling me. He was playing with me breasts and kept running his hand up and down me thigh. I fucking froze, Pol. I froze for so long. But I managed to get away. I went running to me room. I told me ma’ in the morning and she told me sis. They didn't believe me. Me ma’ wanted her granddaughter to grow up with both parents, so she hid it from me da’. Me sis just thought I was lying for attention. I had to be in the same house with 'em for so fucking long!" 

Polly sucked on her teeth and held me closer to her. She held me so tight that I could hardly breathe. Tears escaped me eyes but me face wasn't contorted.

 I was so tired. 

As the night went on, Polly eventually walked me to bed. She tucked me in like I was a child. She kissed me forehead before walking out. Once I hit the bed, all fatigue washed away. I was left with me own thoughts. I couldn't fall asleep now. 

I brought fingers to me face and lightly pressed on the outside of me bruises. I hissed in pain and withdrew me hand. 

'I don't wanna see me face.' I thought. 

But because I acknowledged it, I wanted to do it. I slowly got up from the bed and walked over to the mirror. Me left cheek and eye were both bruised. It wasn't absolutely horrible, but I've never seen me face like this before.

I huffed as I dropped me hand from me face. I opened the palm of me hand and traced the outline of me scrapes. They burned like a bitch when I was in the bath. I slowly crouched down and did the same to the scrapes on my knees. But as I did so, pain shot up throughout me body because I neglected the bruises on me stomach and ribs.

 I was littered with fucking bruises. 

I sighed, running a hand through me hair as I tilted me head back. I pinched the bridge of me nose. I was brought out of me trance when three soft knocks rang through the room. I jumped at the sudden sound. 

"Ye-Yes?"

The door opened and it was Tommy. He had dressed down. He was in his pajamas. A white long sleeve shirt and pants. I never asked if they were his work pants, but they were eerily similar. 

He cleared his throat and flicked his nose. "It's done. We found 'em and dealt with them." 

I let out a loud breath of relief. They were dead. I wouldn't have to worry about them at all. Unlike in me original world where I couldn't sleep because I feared he'd come for me and me family. 

I ran me hand through me hair, and bunched it at the front. I looked up at Tommy. "Thank you." I whispered. 

With his hands now in his pockets, he nodded. 

I knew what I was doing. I knew that I probably shouldn't ask, but I didn't want to be alone tonight. I ran to him and hugged him. He returned it, hesitantly. He soon rested his chin on me head. 

I felt him kiss me head and he whispered. "Sleep with me tonight, eh? You shouldn't be alone tonight." 

I nodded with me head still buried in his chest. Slowly, he guided me to his room. I climbed into his bed and he did after me. I faced the wall and allowed his arm to be me pillow. I gathered me hair and put it all to the side where his arm laid. 

I could hear his breathing and that's all it took for me to start drifting off. Me eyes fluttered open when I felt his fingers comb through me hair. He couldn't fully thread his fingers through me hair, but it was still soothing. 

"You're safe now. You'll be okay." He whispered over and over. 

His voice is something I always want to fall asleep to... 

It didn't take me long to fall asleep at all. I was safe in the Shelby house, in Tommy's arms. 

TAG LIST: @amirahiddleston​ @nemesis729​

[let-the-dream-begin]

“Better to Have Loved and Lost”

Part 2 of the “Ships in the Night” universe

Read on AO3

Claire straightened her jacket and followed Mrs. Graham out of the kitchen and through the hallway.

Standing near the front door was a tall, beautiful girl with a wild mane of bright copper hair. She couldn’t have been older than seventeen or eighteen. Her ears stuck out through her curls just a little. Her eyes were slanted like a cat, but it was their color that truly caught her off guard.

They're exactly the same as mine.

——

A young woman with copper hair visits the Reverend Wakefield's home to speak to a Claire Randall.

——

Claire self-consciously rubbed the back of her neck, as if to hide her palms from Mrs. Graham’s pondering gaze. Something about what she’d said, the way she said it…it had her feeling quite uneasy. She’d never put any stock in superstition, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Mrs. Graham’s words had a ring of prophecy.

Frank and the Reverend were going on about some Duke of Sandringham and his possible connections to Frank’s ancestor and the Jacobite cause. Claire could hardly hear them over the ringing in her ears.

The Reverend made a loud clattering noise at the china cabinet, and just as Mrs. Graham opened her mouth to scold him, there was a faint knocking.

“Is that the front door?” the Reverend said.

“Aye, must be. I’ll go see about that.” She paused in the doorway to add: “Stand away before ye do some permanent damage.”

Claire chuckled as the woman shuffled off. Frank took a few steps toward the table, grinning ear to ear. “I think we’re getting somewhere at last.”

“I’m really glad to hear it.” She smiled sweetly, pushing herself up out of her chair. “But I think I shall take my leave.

“Oh, so soon?” the Reverend said.

“Yes, I feel a bath is in order.”

“Aye, of course. Well, I hope you’ll join us for Samhain tomorrow night,” the Reverend said warmly.

“What, the pagan festival?” Claire, teased, leaning on the back of her chair with a hand on her hip. “Reverend Wakefield, you do astonish me.”

He chuckled at himself. “I love a good ghost story as much as the next fellow.”

Claire laughed softly, crossing around the table to kiss Frank goodbye. “Take your time darling, but do try to get home before the storm breaks.” She cupped his neck and leaned in, but was stopped.

“Mrs. Randall?”

Claire peered around Frank toward the doorway, seeing Mrs. Graham had returned.

“What is it?”

“There’s someone here to see you,” Mrs. Graham said.

“To see me?” Claire took her hands off of Frank and stepped around him toward Mrs. Graham, her brow furrowing.

“Aye, a young woman. Didna say what she wanted.”

Frank gave her a pensive look, and she shrugged lightly. “I suppose I should see what she wants, then.” Claire straightened her jacket and followed Mrs. Graham out of the kitchen and through the hallway.

Standing near the front door was a tall, beautiful girl with a wild mane of bright copper hair. She couldn’t have been older than seventeen or eighteen. Her ears stuck out through her curls just a little. Her eyes were slanted like a cat, but it was their color that truly caught her off guard.

They're exactly the same as mine.

“Um…hello,” Claire said uneasily. “Can I help you with something?”

Despite her size, the girl seemed to shrink right before her eyes. “Ye’re Claire Randall, then?” Her voice was small and timid, not at all matching her queenly elegance.

“Yes. Do I know you?” Claire peered at her through narrowed eyes.

The girl swallowed and started wringing her hands. “Nae, ye don’t. And I dinna ken you either, though I feel as if I do.”

“What do you mean…?” Claire took a few steps closer.

“Could we…is there somewhere we could sit?” the girl stammered.

“Um, yes…follow me.”

Claire led her into the parlor, unsure why she was leading this stranger further inside without a second thought. There was something familiar about her, and she supposed she should at least allow her to explain herself. They entered the parlor, and Claire gestured for the girl to sit. They both sat on opposite couches, facing each other.

“I’m…I’m sorry if this is a bit strange, Mistress,” the girl began. “I ken yer name and such because…my father,” she cleared her throat again, always fidgeting. “Ye saved him. In the war.”

Oh.

“He told me that he was at death’s door when a healer — a-a nurse fought tooth and nail to save him.” She peered up at her with those unsettlingly familiar eyes and wet her lips. “Claire Randall.”

“Oh…well…I’m glad that he’s alright.” Claire was touched beyond description that this girl seemingly traveled far and wide to find the nurse who saved her father. “I saved a lot of men…what is his name?”

“James,” she said sweetly, smiling crookedly. “James Malcolm.”

Claire’s brow furrowed, and she wracked her brain to try to remember.

“I’m sorry, I don’t seem to remember.”

“That’s alright, I didna expect ye to,” she said quickly. “Ye’ve saved…hundreds of lives, I’m sure. Ye’re a braw woman I’ve been told.” She self consciously pushed a stray curl out of her face, taking care to keep her ears covered even as she did. “I just…I had to tell ye I’m grateful. He’s all I have left in the world, my father. We lost my mam when I was born.”

“I’m so sorry,” Claire said, her heart aching for this stranger, sensitive young thing that she was.

“We mean…a lot to each other. My Da and me. So when I heard how much ye did fer him, I had to find ye. Ye’ve made a great deal possible fer him. Fer me. Fer us. Ye…ye saved both of us, really.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Claire said. “This is…overwhelming.”

“Ye dinna have to say anything. Just…just seeing ye, how kind ye are, that’s enough.”

Claire felt her heart constrict. The girl had tears in her eyes, and the tip of her nose was turning red.

“Are you…are you alright…” Claire said, leaning forward where she sat.

“Aye, I’m sorry.” She sniffled, swiping at her tears in embarrassment. “I dinna mean to trouble ye. I…I can go.”

“No,” Claire said quickly, perhaps too quickly. “No, you don’t have to. Especially not like that.” Claire produced a handkerchief and crossed the room to hand it to her, sitting on the couch beside her.

“Thank ye, Mistress.” She took the handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes.

“Are you…are you sure we haven’t met?” Claire said, studying her carefully. “You seem so familiar to me.”

“I’m sure. I’ve only ever heard about ye.”

Claire bit her lip in thought. “You must resemble your father, then. That must be it.”

Fresh tears trickled out of her whisky colored eyes, and she dabbed at them with the handkerchief. “Aye. I do.”

Claire smiled. “I must have his face in my memory even if I can’t remember the specifics about his case.”

The girl gave a tiny nod. “I’m his spitting image. All aside from my eyes.”

Her eyes.

Claire’s pulse quickened for reasons unknown to her.

The girl adjusted her hair again to hide one of the ears that broke free of the curls.

“Why do you do that?” Claire said suddenly. “Hide your ears with your hair like that?”

“Oh.” She smiled sheepishly. “They’re…funny, is all.” She fidgeted with the handkerchief. “The way they stick out.”

Without thinking, Claire reached out and took a thick, copper curl between her fingers and pushed it behind her ear. She had no idea what compelled her to do it, nor what compelled her to say the next thing that came out of her mouth:

“I think they’re beautiful.”

The girl’s chin trembled fiercely, and she rapidly dabbed at her eyes again. “D’ye…d’ye really think so…?”

Claire was taken aback by her response, so she just nodded, letting her hands fall limply into her lap.

The girl let out a shuddery laugh, more tears leaking out as she did. “Th-thank ye, M…Mistress.”

For a moment, Claire was certain she was going to say something else, not “Mistress.” What, she did not know.

Her mind was racing; there was something strange happening here, something beyond her comprehension.

And then she scolded herself.

She’s just a lonely young girl, an insecure one, at that. She just wants to show you gratitude.

“Are you…alone? Or is your father with you?” Claire asked gently.

“Nae, he couldna make the journey,” she said sniffling. “But he’s alright. Thanks to you.”

Claire smiled. “You’ve told me your father’s name, but you haven’t told me yours.”

Her amber eyes swam with something that Claire could only describe as turmoil.

God…those eyes…

“My name is Faith, Mistress.” She straightened a bit as she said it, that regal manner Claire had first picked up on returning. “Faith Malcolm.”

——

My eyes fluttered open, and the first thing I was aware of was the churning of my stomach. I clutched my head and sat up, taking in my surroundings.

The black-rock road was gone, as were the cars.

Breathing deeply, I gathered my skirts and stood up, making my way down the hill, away from the stones.

It didn’t take long before I came upon Da’s camp. The plan had been that he would send me off and camp right near the stones to await my return, so that he could take me to Lallybroch in the safety of his protection. He heard a twig snap beneath my feet and whirled around, his eyes immediately softening as they landed on me.

I hadn’t realized that there were tears welling up in my eyes until the sight of him brought a tiny sob from my mouth, and we ran the rest of the way to each other, crashing together.

“Thank Christ…” he muttered into my hair, rocking me back and forth. “Mo nighean ruaidh…” He kissed my head fervently, whispering more Gaelic into my curls.

I relished his warm embrace for a moment, allowing both of our broken hearts to mend one another.

“Well…?” He broke the silence first, pulling me away so he could look into my eyes. “Did ye find her?”

“Aye, Da. I did.” I swallowed thickly, and Da brushed the tears off my cheeks with his gentle thumbs. “She…she is everything ye ever said she was.”

He let out a breathy chuckle, tears spilling down his cheeks now as well. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she…?”

“Aye.” I nodded. “And she…she smelled like herbs, like ye always said, and she’s sae kind, and…her eyes, Da. They really are just like mine.”

He squeezed his eyes shut, resting his hands on my shoulders. His face was contorted with pain, the veins popping out. My heart felt like it was being cut open. I stroked his stubbled cheeks, and his forehead, as if I could rub those creases, years of grief, out of his face.

“I’m…I’m sorry, a leannan…” he stammered, his voice tight and pained. “To hear ye speak of her so true…to ken that ye’ve…that ye truly met her…” His eyes opened, and the world of pain that I saw made me want to shrivel up. “It’s…almost too much to bear.”

“I ken,” I whispered. “I almost…called her Ma…so many times…” I sniffled, and Da’s grip on me tightened again. “It was so strange…I never knew what she looked like, no’ really, and I never called somebody Ma in my whole life…but being wi’ her I just…I knew. It felt right to call her that. Ye ken?”

“Aye, I ken, mo ghraidh.” He kissed my forehead with trembling lips, cradling my head in his hands.

“I was burning inside wi’ the need to tell her the truth.” I shook my head. “She believed me, I think. She was none the wiser that I wasna telling the whole truth. But then when I…I watched her at the stones…I…”

“What is it, Faith?” He tucked a curl behind my ear, just like she had.

It almost made me burst into tears again.

“I…I almost stopped her,” I admitted. “I ken ye told me I couldna change anything, that she had to go through or bad things would happen, but…It hurt sae much to just let her go…knowing that she…that I would…”

“Hush now, mo chridhe.” He pressed my head into his chest and held me close. “D’ye no’ ken how much she wanted ye, Faith? Have I never told ye that she thought she was barren before we were wed?”

“No…you never told me that…” I muttered into his jacket.

“Aye. She wept in my arms, grieving fer the children we wouldna have. And then when she found out about you, our wee miracle, Christ…she was sae happy, Faith. Ye couldna imagine.” His hand rubbed soothing circles into my back, and I felt myself relaxing into him. “If ye told her at the stone that she’d bring a child into the world if she touched it, even if it meant it’d kill her, I believe she’d still do it.”

“How…how can you say that…?” I pulled my head off of him to look in his eyes. “How could she want to…to die…? Just so I’d be born…?”

“Ah, m'annsachd. Someday when ye’re a mother, ye’ll understand. She gave her life for ye then, and I ken she’d do it again if given the choice. Because that’s yer Ma. Selfless, wi’ too much love in her heart.” He wiped my tears away again. 

“And as fer me, Faith.” His face grew stern, and he held my head firmly in his hands, fingers resting on the back of my neck. “Those two years I had wi’ yer mother is something I wouldna trade fer anything. I’d rather my own life be cut short than live to a ripe old age wi’out ever having known her. And you, my beautiful, precious girl. I would be nothing wi’out ye. Nothing,” he whispered fiercely, his voice tightening again. “If I had to choose between meeting and losing yer mother so I could have ye, or never knowing her at all, and you never being brought into the world…the choice is easy, mo chridhe.”

I fiercely bit down on my lip, willing my eyes to stop watering, my hands to stop trembling. I exhaled with something resembling a laugh.

“She…she called me beautiful,” I said, the words tasting sacred in my mouth, as if speaking them into the world would erase their existence of truth.

“Of course she did.” He gently stroked my wet cheek, offering the tiniest of smiles.

“My ears…” I let myself laugh again. “She thinks they’re beautiful, too.”

“Aye, she’s right.” He chuckled softly.

“And she…oh, Da…” My voice tightened again. “She…she held me. Only once because I was a stranger to her, of course, but…” I bit my lip again, losing the battle with my tears. “I felt sae safe wi’ her, in her arms like that…like I…belonged there…”

“Because ye do, a leannan.” He pressed me into him again, squeezing me fiercely. “God made ye to fit in her arms, whether she kent it at the time or no’.”

“It’s no’ fair…” I blubbered, something I hadn’t let myself say aloud in my entire life. “It’s just…no’ fair…”

“I ken, mo chridhe…”

“I…I love her, Da…” I sobbed, clinging to him for dear life. “Part of me always did, before this, but it wasna something strong enough to truly hurt until I really felt what it was like to…to have my mother hold me…”

“Oh, my poor lass…”

“I love her, and I couldna even say it…”

“She loves you, she loves ye so much, Faith…And she kens how much ye love her. She kens. She’s known yer whole life.”

I couldn’t breathe for a long time. Da was patient; he held me close and he rocked me, even though I knew he was in as much pain as I was, if not more.

“Did ye…” he broke the silence after a while. “Did ye tell her…?”

I sniffled, and I looked up at him with watery eyes. Eyes that she gave me.

“Aye, Da. I said just as ye told me to.”

“Mistress?”

“Yes?”

“Before I go, would you mind if I…well my father, he wanted me to…”

She looked at my arms, hovering over my thighs, then back up at my face.

“Since he couldna,” I finished shakily.

“You want…to hug me?”

“Aye. If that’s alright.”

Confusion only clouded her eyes for a few seconds before she nodded without hesitation. She was the one that closed the space between us, that opened her arms, that pulled me in. I bit down so hard on my lip to stop myself from sobbing, I was sure I drew blood. I uneasily returned the embrace, wrapping my arms around her slim waist as her hands came to rest on my curls.

“He told me to tell ye…that he’ll never forget ye,” I whispered into her shoulder. “As long as he lives, and after.”

Da shuddered against me, and it made me shiver from head to toe.

“Thank ye…Faith…” He was really struggling to speak now, and I held on tighter. “Thank ye fer…fer telling her what I couldna.”

My tears soaked into his shirt.

“It means more than…I could ever say.”

After another long silence, I pulled away to look at him again.

“Ye ken how ye told me ye dinna have any portraits of her?” I said nervously. He nodded, his face still wet.

“I found this.” I reached into the satchel I was carrying, producing the folded piece of paper. “After she disappeared through the stones, they were everywhere. Her husband put them up, I think.”

I handed him the paper and watched with bated breath as he unfolded it.

Without warning, my tall, strong father collapsed to his knees like he could no longer hold himself up.

Eyes wide with panic, I dropped to the floor beside him, holding onto his shoulders. I raked my eyes over his face; he was unreadable. He was staring, unblinking, at Ma’s exact likeness.

“Da…?” I said, worried.

He ran trembling fingers down the length of her face. “A Dhia…” he breathed, hardly audible. “She’s even more beautiful than my dreams can remember.”

I bit my lip again, nodding in agreement. “She is, Da.” I rubbed his back, resting my cheek on his shoulder, staring at her with him for longer than we cared to remember.

——

A new portrait hangs in the halls of Lallybroch.

Da and I pulled out the trunk of Ma’s clothing from Paris, something Da hadn’t touched as long as I lived. He knew the one he wanted before we even opened it. Yellow, to bring out her eyes.

It fit me just fine, aside from being a bit too short and a bit too narrow in the shoulders. But it would do.

I posed for Auntie Jenny, but I stopped her before she finished.

I wanted to be the one to recreate her face.

I spent hours and days going back and forth between the paper and the canvas, and I wouldn’t let Da see until it was finished. Auntie Jenny had painted her hair a color that we decided on together, using my own hair only for shape. But she hadn’t put any stray curls in her face. Da always talked about her stray curls, and I’d seen them myself.

The eyes were the easiest part. I just had to use a mirror.

Da fell to his knees again when I finally let him see it.

Now Ma has finally taken her rightful place on the wall, beside the portrait of me that Auntie Jenny did when I was fifteen. She’s holding flowers in a green field, and she’s smiling.

And she’s beautiful.

The paper-portrait from the future sits in a little frame now, and it lives beside Da’s bed. I was used to hearing him talk to her sometimes, at night when I walked by his door, but now when I peer in, he’s cupping the little frame in his large hands, really talking to her.

It makes me as happy as it does sad.

Sometimes, I find myself talking to her, too, holding a candle to the oil pastels of her face in the dead of night.

I never really did it before, but now that I’d seen her, smelled her, touched her, I felt like I had to.

Like I finally knew how Da felt all these years: to have loved her and lost her.

[newobsessionweekly]

Save me 🌿

@christineeej94 said: Hi, i want to request an image with Aron when he is at a party and he meets a girl who has a abusive boyfriend. Aron will fall in love with that girl, but he can do anything because of her boyfriend. After a few weeks Aron and the girl meet again and start a relationship. I love everything you do so i hope you can like to write about this. I hope you stay safe and i wish you all the best. Kisses

a/n: I’m back in business guys and ready to write all the requests I’ve been receiving! Sorry for talking me so long. I hope I didn’t disappoint you. Stay safe and enjoy! 🌿❤️

Sorry for the eventual grammar errors, I'll edit it in the morning! word count: 2.607

warning: abuse maybe, idk i’m not good at this.

Arón Piper x reader 🌿

He’s neither the sweetest nor the most careful boyfriend, but he was enough for you. He was there for you when no one else was and he is the only one that cares about you and loves you. But sometimes when he’s drunk or angry, when he sees black in front of his eyes, it seems that his love for you dissapeares. It seems that the boy you had fallen in love with was replaced by this heartless person. This time he got angry when he saw your photoshoot for the new Tommy Hilfinger women swimwear. He didn’t like the idea that other males looking at your naked body and you understood. But that was your job, you tried to convince him, nothing seemed to relent him.

Make up and a pair of jeans covered everything from the night before, everything but the thoughts, the memories and his screams. Since you were little, you were used to avoid your parents screaming, putting on your headphones with maximum volume. But screaming and punches coming right to you, you weren’t really used to that, you didn’t knew how to respond to that.

Your head hurts so much and your stomach seemed like it wants to get out of your body. As you staid there, on the bathroom floor with your head on top of the toilet, you wished for a moment that things were different. You wished for him showing you in a different way his emotions. 

You get your shit together and after you refreshed your makeup, you walked down towards your table. But you’ve been stopped as a boy accidentally bumped into you. The first things you remarked at him were those beautiful brown curls and a pair of the most beautiful and sweet eyes you’ve ever seen. He is tall, with large shoulders, but not that impressive posture. He was wearing black and you couldn’t hide the fact that you are staring at him. You are doing so wrong.

His hands were still protectively around you, “Are you alright?”

You shake your head, “Yes, I’m fine.”

“Are you sick or something? You look so pale.” his eyebrows approached as he frowned. 

“No, no. The alcohol is just not my best friend.” you forced a smile. Who is this boy and why is he asking so many questions? He is somehow familiar.

“So, tell me. You are not a alcohol consumer, I bet you are not a smoker as well.” he began and made sure you were alright before you two started walking away from the toilet area. “Tell me someting about this girl.”

“Well, this girls is named (y/n) and she is not doing much, but she wouldn’t mind if you would want to share at least your name.” you laughed

“I’m Arón. Arón Piper.” he smiled and damn, that was the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. He easily lighted up the whole club.

“Oh, you are the Lacoste boy.” you realised and maybe it wasn’t a good idea to spoke that out loud.

“I’m what?” he was confused, looking at you as you stopped next to a pole so you could look at him.

“The Lacoste boy.” you repeated. “Your best friend described you this way so don’t blame me.” you let a giggle out.

“Oh, that son of a bitch. I hope he made a good description of me.” he is a very plesant guy, with soft features and very sweet voice.

“Pretty much, yeah. He also said you are very good at flirting and all the eyes are on you.” 

“I like that, I might add it on my business card. So how do you know my best friend?”

“Oh, Omar is a friend of my boyfriend’s.”

“Ah, then you are the Hilfiger girl. He mentioned you. So I guess we have something in common.” 

Your belly hurts so much, but you somehow managed to show otherwise. “Your friend is at our table, come on!”

As you approached the table with Arón’s hand resting on your back, your boyfriend’s sight was never leaving you. His eyes were red and you could tell he had been drinking maybe too much. His sight emanates so much anger, you were scared. You distanced yourself from Arón and sat down next to boyfriend as he put his hand over your shoulders and keep you as close as possible. Arón followed you closely and after he greeted everyone from that table, he sat between you and Omar, his colleague and your boyfriend’s friend.

You ordered some coke and scrolled through your phone as the boys were talking about sports or whatever. When he said to you he has a surpirse, you imagined maybe a dinner with him, telling how sorry he was for hurting you and enjoying yourselves with some wine or maybe some KFC on the cough. But the surprise for your two years anniversary was actually allowing you to accompanied him at some party.

“Aye, chica, I’ve missed you so much. Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in months!” Danna screamed as soon as she arrived, before greeting the others. 

Where have you been? That’s a really good question. You haven’t done anything in months and left the house just for your job. No party since your birthday and you didn’t saw your friends since the Elite premiere. But that’s fine, you didn’t mind spending time with your boyfriend. 

 “I’ve been busy with my job, shooting after shooting, it was kinda tiring!” you embraced Danna and Omar agreed with you.

“Sí, sí, you should see some photos. She’s amazing!” your boyfriend’s fists clenched on your arm as Omar let those words slip out of his mouth.

You find yourself watching Arón as he lights up a cigarette, as he dances on the dancefloor with a drink in his hand or when he simply talks with his mates. You stood at the table, beside your boyfriend, all night and watched everyone having so much fun. When the depression started to fill your body, you excused yourself and hurried towards the toilets.

You just stood there, gazing at the wall, watching all the people passing you. You are not a drinker, but being the only one at the table drinking soda, smelling the alcohol coming from everywhere, is hard. Maybe some cider would made everything a little better, but you know he would get mad. You started regreting coming, you thought you should stay at home, binging your favourite tv show.

“I´m starting to think that you enjoy more staying in the toilet than at the table with us.” Arón half-laughed and proped his shoulder on the wall beside you.

“I could tell the exact same thing about you.” you smiled at him. “I didn´t know you are so close to Danna and Ester.”

“Well, I played beside them for three years so they are like a family to me.” he took a sip from his beer.

“You played in Élite?” you were shocked, but it makes sense now. That’s why he looked so familiar.   

“Sí. Ander Muñoz. One of the gays, you know.” he scratched his back of the head.

“I guess we don’t know much about each other, huh?”

“Then let’s change that. Give me your Instagram.” you look suspiciously at him. “You know, from a social media profile you could learn a bunch of things about a person.” 

You laughed and give him your username, “And you learned that from season one of Élite?”

“Maybe.”

”You know, maybe we shouldn´t hang out that much near the toilets.” he laughed and that sound made you smile.

You were talking only for a few minutes and he already managed to put a big smile on your face. He’s a sweet person and has a colorful soul, filled with so much happiness and love. He is surrounded with a warm brightness even when he has on that “bad ass” face. Your laughter made a lot of people turn and look strangely at you, but that laugh ended as soos as your boyfriend approached.

“Am i interrupting something?” his eyes are so red, you don’t know how he still manages to walk properly. Your blood freezed in your veins and stealthily looked at Arón.

“No, amor. We were talking about that TV show, Élite. You know, Omar is one of the main characters.” you smiled softely at him, trying to calm the storm in his eyes.

“Do you mind?” he adressed to Arón and you prayed that Arón would understand that he needs to leave know. He lifted the beer bottle at you as in a unspoken “I understand”. He waited for everyone to mind his own business before he turned to you.

“I don’t want to make a scene out here.” he started, surprisingly his voice was low, indicating he was trying to mentaing his anger at a reduced level. “But you provoke me so much, bitch! Were you flirting with him?” he grabbed your arm and hold you still.

“I wasn’t flirting with him.” your trembling voice barely heard.

“Bravo, bitch, now your lying!” his voice almost heard over the music and turned some heads towards you. Arón was watching you and Omar is holding him back, not to intervene. Omar knows about his angry outings, about the screams, but he didn’t know about the punches you received. “That’s why you are not allowed to hang out with them. Because you are a slut. But I forgive you, because I love you.” He grabbed your face and forced you to look him in the eyes. “I love you, do you understand?” in his desperate delirium, he smashed your head on the pole behind you. Your painful groan cought the attention over you. Arón was trying to come closer and check if you are alright, but Omar was still beside him.

“Don’t do that here. Let’s go home.” your head hurts so bad and you couldn´t understand how you still manage to stand on your feet. There is no reaction on his face, but he responded to your words and made room for you to move from the cage he built with his body. 

Danna looked concerned at you and tried to come closer, but you smiled at her and assigured her you are alright. And you were alright, you were the only who can calm him down. 

“(y/n)...” Arón tried to grab your arm, but you avoided any contact with him. 

“Don’t!” you collected your things and left the place with your boyfriend.

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Few weeks later, when the things got messier, you finally had the courage and told Omar everything. And since there, you were stayed at his place, helping you get over those years and those bad memories that had been haunting you. You were afraind that he would come to find you, you had nightmares and Omar was there for you every single time.  

Because his birthday just passed, you organised a big party with the purpose of thanking him about everything. Arón helped you and sinced you moved provisionally with Omar you talked more and more, almost becoming inseparable. He’s a great man, with a golden heart and the power of making you smile even in the darkest days. 

In these few weeks you did so many things your boyfriend didn’t allowed you to do in two years. Now, with a cider bottle in your hand, your feet resting on Arón’s lap, you are happier than ever. Laughing and being able to enjoy this group entirely feels like heaven. But that heaven turned immediately into hell and all your fears came to life. 

“Where’s (y/n)?” his voice gave you chills and tried to hide your shaking hands. You didn’t want to show how scared you are of him anymore. 

 “She’s not here and you need to leave!” Omar asserted, but he didn’t care, pusing past Omar and into the house. Your heart is hurting seeing him like this, broken. You almost thought of going there and hug him, telling him that it’s gonna be alright. 

“I have the right to see my girlfriend!” he screamed, searcing the room for you and he approached as he saw you on the couch. 

You stood up and confronted him, “I’m not your girlfriend anymore. Go away!” 

His eyes immediately filled with anger, “What did you just said, bitch?” he raised his hand at you, ready to slam your face, but he was stopped by Arón. 

“You don’t have the right to beat her up! Now, get the fuck out of here!” Arón pushed him, trying to make him move.  

The man threw the first punch, hitting Arón in the nose and Miguel punched the man in return, but he was stronger than MIguel and landed one to his jaw. Omar came between them and tried to separate them, but he got hit in the stomach.

It was your fault, you shouldn’t let that happen, now all your friends are hurting, trying to keep that man away from you. You tried to go closer, to separate them somehow, but Álvaro stopped you and helped them. Four men hardly managed to fight with that anger. The man stopped eventually and looked at all of you.

“I love you so much and I’m sorry, would you please come back home?” he faced you and you saw something in his eyes.

“She’s not going anywhere, but you are. Before I call the police.” Miguel stood up and put his hand on your shoulder.

The man turned his body when Miguel mentioned the police. He doesn’t want to lose his job so he just slammed the door as he left the house as unexpected as he entered. Your tears broke down with fear and anger at the same time.

“I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry!” your voice is trembling seeing the red spots on the boys faces.

“We are men, that’s doesn’t even hurt.” Miguel said and everyone laughed a little.

You nodded as you made your way towards the balcony. You stood there, gazing at the stars, with tears running down your cheeks. Arón came closer with a cup of hot chocolate and a little but warm smile on his face.

“Aye, what are does tears for? It’s over, honey. You had four knights in shining armour saving you.” he joked trying to make you forget a little. You smiled as you took the cup from his hands and put it on the table.

“Yeah, but what if you weren’t there? What will happen when he will come back and i’ll be alone?” you looked him in the eyes and put your heart on the plate. He’s the only one you can trust entirely and the one you know he’s not gonna judge you.

“You won’t be alone, amor! You have me and I can be at your door nonstop if you want to.” he put his arms around you and you rested your head on his chest. He’s so tall, you could barely reach the shoulders to hug him.

You shook you head, “Thank you, but you don’t have to.”

“I know, but I want to. Because I want you to be safe. I want you to be happy and to feel the love you deserve!” he cupped your cheeks and wiped away the tears. Then, without any warnings, he placed his lips over your and embraced with so much warmth that you could melt. He kissed you so softly that you wanted more and more. And after you pulled away, you had to wait for a moment until you came back on earth.