#i should like take a look through her tag later & reblog some art :3
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violetsareblue-selfships · 3 months ago
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also i feel i should mention - it's been a year since i added kafka as an f/o <3 (so our one year anniversary hehe :3)
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its-tortle · 2 years ago
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I posted 5,252 times in 2022
427 posts created (8%)
4,825 posts reblogged (92%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@youhavenoideahowmuchihatethis
@queenofcrabs
@endgame-steve-is-not-real
@dontcallmebree
@musette22
I tagged 3,919 of my posts in 2022
Only 25% of my posts had no tags
#stucky - 592 posts
#no not without queue - 427 posts
#stucky art - 313 posts
#bucky barnes - 254 posts
#hilarity - 237 posts
#shut up tortle - 191 posts
#chris evans - 180 posts
#sebastian stan - 167 posts
#steve rogers - 158 posts
#bucky art - 149 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#but i know that often its almost performative where even when im enjoying a novel i am reading it to finish it so i can tick it off my list
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
stucky and cats :)
bucky is a cat person, he has been as long as he can remember. steve pretends he doesn't like cats.
they have a cat in brooklyn. sort of. it's a stray from the neighborhood, not really theirs, but bucky gave it milk once and now it keeps coming back when it's cold and it needs shelter, or even just for some pets and companionship. steve rolls his eyes, but sometimes The Cat is in the apartment when bucky comes home, and he knows all the windows had been closed. it curls up on steve's skinny thighs in the evenings, and there's a few loving sketches of it in steve's notebook. he wonders what happened to The Cat, after everything. he wishes they had given it a name.
then, in the same streets a century later, steve finds alpine. unlike The Cat, alpine is gorgeous, expensive-looking, and somewhat of a brat, so steve knows she's not a stray, or not a street cat at least. she must have lost her family in the snap, just as steve did, too. so, he takes her in, even though he doesn't like cats. he goes out of his way to get her the expensive cat food she likes and buys her a bougie bed she ignores in favor of sleeping on steve's face at night. she's for bucky, steve keeps telling himself. she's for when he comes home.
and when, against all odds, bucky does come home, it's to steve saying he's not a cat person amidst a cat-proofed apartment and a thoroughly loved feline on the window sill. and it feels like 1930, like home.
send me a ship and a word!
217 notes - Posted January 8, 2022
#4
i'm gonna cry thinking about how alienating it must have been for steve to wake up and be treated like a ninety year old instead of a twenty-seven year old.
354 notes - Posted January 11, 2022
#3
actually, bucky had more than a moment of peace in wakanda. he had time, he had kindness. days were long and bright, the world was far away. he found himself at the mercy of a scientist once again, and yet this one was not cruel, but made him laugh as she tinkered with his shoulder in a bright lab with colorful murals. he took long walks along grassy praries and up rocky mountains and through bustling neighborhoods. he filled his arms with fruits he had never tried before from the local market on his way home. he made friends. he had an assortment of teas in patterned tins in his kitchen. he had fancy conditioner and a skin care rountine. he laughed when his goats head-butted his shins and combed their fur for ticks. he was given support and people to talk to -- people who taught him that his past was not something to atone for, but something to recover from. he began to realize that he was a victim, not a perpetrator. and it was this realization, this healing, that inspired him to bravery, that made him kiss steve as soon as he stepped off of that quinjet for the fourth, maybe sixth time. when steve kissed him back, he was almost able to convince himself he deserved it. wakanda was not just peace, it was healing. it was wakanda's kindness that he came to thank for his own.
459 notes - Posted August 7, 2022
#2
i don't know who needs to hear this, but you're allowed to gain weight in your twenties. you are a grown ass adult now. your body can and should not be the same as it was at seventeen. allow it to grow along with you <3
1,568 notes - Posted October 4, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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2,469 notes - Posted January 1, 2022
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urlocallesbiab · 2 years ago
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I posted 2,320 times in 2022
That's 2,320 more posts than 2021!
50 posts created (2%)
2,270 posts reblogged (98%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@clockworkcheetah
@trainwreckgenerator
@generalized-incompetence
@geeneelee
I tagged 2,291 of my posts in 2022
Only 1% of my posts had no tags
#dghda - 1,158 posts
#dirk gently's holistic detective agency (tv 2016) - 1,146 posts
#miscellaneous reblogs - 907 posts
#image not described - 820 posts
#dirk gently - 752 posts
#art - 704 posts
#todd brotzman - 592 posts
#dghda fanart - 521 posts
#brotzly - 347 posts
#this post was queued; i may not be actually online - 343 posts
Longest Tag: 137 characters
#people will literally say ''dirk is a sunshine soft boy,todd is a normal borderline-boring everyman,and farah is perfect and invincible''
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
late-night todd&farah thoughts/headcanon
having lydia and then dirk kidnapped from right under farah's nose probably was extremely traumatic to her, and combined with her canonical bad mental health and anxiety (which i headcanon to be linked to ocd), it probably made her extremely afraid for todd; i hc that she developed a compulsion to never ever let him out of her sight (because What If something bad happens the second she looks away!). todd wasn't perfectly fine with that, obviously, but neither of them was perfectly fine with just about anything at the moment, and both were nearly equally deranged
they didn't spend a day, an hour apart for weeks straight. this sort of total 24/7 intimacy & isolation was partially why/how she'd tricked herself into thinking that she was attracted to todd — and post-"breakup"/after figuring out they'd be better as friends she got better at recognizing this behaviour as unhealthy for her, though she still had trouble abstaining from it. and she and todd often joked that when dirk would be found and this mess was over and things were calm, the two would happily take the opportunity to ignore each other for a full week or so. and when this mess was actually over, they joked that "by spending some time away from each other i didn't mean that you should go fuck off into a parallel world!" and "by spending some time away from each other i didn't mean that you should go get shot and then stuck in a hospital for a month!"
60 notes - Posted October 18, 2022
#4
a dghda s2/s3 theory: the universe meant for amanda to become an omniscient master of backstage knowledge, and friedkin took that place instead of her through a series of mistakes
(this post gets Very Long, but you can scroll right to the end for a TL;DR)
now, allow me to provide some context before i delve into an explanation
first, a precursory theory: if suzie boreton died like she was meant to, then lord triangle badevil would have became the mage's apprentice
in s2ep1 bart makes a choice not to kill suzie, even though she feels like she should; and then throughout the season the fact that suzie isn't meant to be a part of things is alluded to:
1) in the end of s2ep8 dirk gives his usual Case Solved speech where he explains how everything is connected, but he doesn't know how suzie boreton figures into things; she's not, technically, a part of his case
2) in s2ep10 todd asks her who is she and why is she there, and accuses her of being "some mom from montana", which further drives the point home
3) king francis has no knowledge of her either, even though he seems to be able to know relevant things that he could neither witness nor hear about (like farah and tina defeating the mage)
so, suzie's boreton entire character arc exists by mistake; and yet the prophecy (as foretold by wakti wapnasi, and as spoken by panto trost in s2ep3) makes a point about the great dark wizard finding his apprentice — that means that role was meant for someone.
lord triangle badevil is a mysterious figure who plays a significant role in the plot (his men kidnap farson and later amanda in s2ep4, he kills farson and thus causes a massive shoot-out in s2ep7, and he kills some people in his attempts to stop the prophecy in eps 9 and 10), and yet we know infuriatingly little about him, his goals and his views, like he was meant to be explored but got forgotten about.
he has markings on his face (pitch-black with negative-space geometrical figures) which are never discussed, but seem to be the same sort of marks that appear on arms of both the mage and suzie boreton from magic overuse, and that seems to suggest that he is, in some way, a magic user, or at least was exposed to magic somehow.
all things considered, i propose that lord triangle badevil, a mysterious actor of evil and supposedly a magic user, was meant to be the prophecied apprentice & the big bad, but got displaced by suzie, who wound up in the narrative by mistake.
next, an observation: wendimoor's magic, pararibulitis and backstage are closely linked
it's not much of a novel revelation, but i'm trying to be thorough, so here
— both amanda&todd and later friedkin could access backstage through the magical portals between earth and wendimoor
— most powerful beings of wendimoor (wakti wapnasi, the great witch; king francis) seem to be omniscient or close to, and omniscience is a backstage characterestic
(they both know things about earth they shouldn't be able to know, like wakti about amanda's name, or francis about farah&tina's win over the mage; and metaphysical things that are nigh impossible to be logically derived from facts, like holistics being the tools to fix the broken universe)
— pararibulitis expresses itself as tangible magic within wendimoor, and is tied to wielding the water/portals and to the visions
— visions are also a form of mystical knowledge, and thus could be sourced from backstage
(the exact reasons of how/why the connection between wendimoor and backstage could've happened have no bearing on this post, but so far my working theory is that the explosive creation of a whole new layer of reality pushed at the borders of the universe and stretched them/thinned them out, and that's why it's easier to slip from the material world of the universe to the immaterial not-world of the backstage when in wendimoor)
now, a couple of tidbits about amanda and the mandelbrot set:
— her name, amanda brotzman, is a pun on "mandelbrot set" (the showrunner talked about this somewhere; i don't know the source, i've learned about this somewhere in the ao3 comment section)
— mandelbrot set's visualisation is the shape that appears in people's eyes when they're backstage
— it's the same shape as on amanda's s2 jacket
— it's a recurring shape in her visions
(a tangent: now, i don't know much about mathematics so forgive me if i get the words wrong, but mandelbrot set's boundary is a fractal curve, meaning that if you zoom into the mandelbrot set's visualisation's border, you'll find more of the same shape, ad infinitum. this fun quality of the set has no bearing on this specific post and theories within it, but i think such a plot-important shape having this "as above, so below" flair to it could have meaning for the pontetial s3 plot)
— the prophecy mentions she-who-sees-all who was supposed to open a door into a dream, allowing through it dirk gently and the boy; that most probably references amanda, her visions and her ability to create portals through water
finally, the theory:
— amanda brotzman, mandelbrot set, visions, pararibulitis, wendimoor magic and backstage are all interconnected
— amanda was supposed to be she who sees all; backstage seems to have granted hugo friedkin omniscience
See the full post
84 notes - Posted October 25, 2022
#3
dghda is a tv show about young women having older brothers. and dirk gently is also there ig
97 notes - Posted October 3, 2022
#2
you ever think about season 2 brotzly....
every time todd is asked why is he here, why is he doing any of this, he diverts back to amanda — his love, his life, his reason to exist, his, to be frank, emotional contingency plan
"todd, why are you so hell-bent on-"
"no, farah, no! we won't give up! we'll find dirk, and with dirk we'll find amanda, and when i find amanda everything will be alright!"
"todd, why are you even here? why are you with me when it's so dangerous and horrible and i can't even promise you anything?"
"dirk, listen, i really wanna find amanda, and i have reasons to believe she is being kept in the parallel fairytale world to which you are the key"
but in the end? he chooses dirk.
and it's not like in s1, when amanda firmly pushed him away and had the kindness of her heart to say "cmon, that dude makes you a happier and better person, don't avoid him"
no, this time around she invited him to live with her — something he had seemingly been chasing all that time
but he just. shrugged. declined. nah, sis, but thanks. his place is by dirk. he knows that. dirk, on some level, knows that too. it's not spoken about, and i'm not even sure that todd has the guts to admit it, but it's something he knows. he no longer has the space to pretend that his beloved baby sister is the centerpiece of all this bullshit. in the end, he verbally, directly, openly chose dirk.
and it's not something that either of them will forget about.
117 notes - Posted September 30, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
amanda brotzman is a girl who's a she/her dude and dirk gently is a boy who's a he/him girlie. hope this helps <3
261 notes - Posted November 5, 2022
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cuckoo-on-a-string · 2 years ago
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Soft Target: Ch. 4
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Summary: Bringing a public menace home for dinner.
Chapter 3: Link
Not strictly Zemo x reader, but so close they could kiss.
Chapter warnings: language, short medical exam, implied peril to children
A/N: Apparently tumblr isn’t showing chapters, even to tagged folks. Please help boost with comments and reblogs if you are so inclined. They mean the world (and if you comment we can CONVERSE).
Should I start a masterlist?
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“This is my family.”
Three children literally and telepathically shouting for her attention made a tremendous distraction, and she didn’t even notice a new pair of hands had joined the fray until he shouted more or less directly in her ear.
“Back, you heathens!”
The edge of a soft Texan accent made the order sound more playful than he intended. When the children didn’t follow his command, the burly man peeled them away, unwittingly turning the mobbing into a game. He hauled one child off only for another to reattach, and after a few fruitless rounds, he gave up, joining the attack by crushing the children and Triss against the car in an enormous hug.
With the skin of his forearm against her neck, she felt him murmur, Welcome home.
On the other side of the car, Sam was helping Bucky ease free of the car, and the soldier’s agonized groan reminded her why she came.
“I’m glad to see you, too,” she said, “but we have a bit of a medical emergency, actually.”
The man looked to where she glanced over her shoulder, turning serious as he caught sight of her guests.
“Okay, everybody. Introductions later.” The physician switch had been flipped. He stepped around the vehicle as the knot of children loosened around Triss, and he swooped under Bucky’s free arm for added support. “I’m a doctor. We’ll get you taken care of.” He looked back at Triss, waving towards the smaller house. “I assume they’re staying with you?”
“Yeah.” Finally disentangled, she power-walked ahead of them to the door. “First floor bedroom.”
“Right. Okay.” The man turned to his kids. “Head back in, and let your mom know we have guests. Liz? Get my emergency kit, and a saline drip, I think.”
A groan from the oldest child confirmed receipt of his instructions as Triss pulled the door open and pushed ahead. She had to make sure the damn bed had sheets. When was the last time she’d had company? When was the last time she’d bothered coming in this room?
Fortunately, the bed had sheets. She ripped off the old quilt to spare it some bloodstains and tried to ignore the surge of dust motes dancing in the sunbeams from the nearest window. It would do. It would be fine. James Buchannan Barnes, storied war hero, assassin, and Avenger, wouldn’t die in her guest bedroom. If he’d survived the trip, he’d certainly make it now, especially with medical help.
The three men lumbered in, and she barely had space to squeeze past them. Old houses had small bedrooms, and all three men had muscles to spare. She stopped in the doorway, waiting for an order like the children.
“Get my kit from Liz?” the doctor asked. To his patient, he said, “You’ve lost a lot of blood.”
Triss nodded, already moving as Bucky mumbled something about enhancements and the doctor scoffed.
Zemo loitered in the living room, the only space between the guest bedroom and the front door, already studying her home. Looking for something to use against her. Seeking exits and opportunities to exploit. His eyes raked along her overstuffed bookshelves and the art on the walls, picking her private life apart with his hawkish eyes.
Fuck him.
Let him judge her tastes and preferences. His opinion was nothing to her, and she’d worry about the rest later, hopefully before he found a knife to stick in her back. She brushed by without a word, avoiding contact with the prowess of a seasoned server on her way to the front door. Before she could pull it open again, Liz shoved through, arms full of medical supplies.
“I’ve got it,” Triss said, rushing to take the burden. She didn’t want any of the kids to see more of Bucky’s blood than they already had. She certainly didn’t want them to see their father wrist-deep in his guts.
Zemo had the good grace to step aside as she hustled past this time. The doctor met her at the entrance to the guest bedroom, took the bag, closed the door, and went to work with Sam as his stand-in trauma nurse.
That left her alone. In the front room. With Zemo.
She hadn’t had time to spare him more than a passing thought since leaving the car, and the sudden recollection of his crushing attention nearly flattened her.
Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh –
She wasn’t – in fact – alone with him. Liz hadn’t left after surrendering the goods, and Triss turned to find her eldest nibling in a full-on staring contest with the rogue Sokovian. The teenager even mirrored Zemo’s patented head tilt as it drifted to the side. They stood there, studying each other, daring the other to look away first as the long green fringe atop Liz’s undercut drifted into their eyes.
Aw hell.
She marched between them, breaking line of sight to end the staring contest without bruising egos. Sucking in a deep breath – only half for show – she dropped a hand on Liz’s head and spun to address the baron.
“This is Liz. They are thirteen and act like it.”
Her gaze swiveled to the nibling. “Liz, this is Baron Zemo. He’s promised to be on his best behavior, but he is still very dangerous, so please don’t go out of your way to start shit.”
Liz’s eyebrows floated up, face flooding with contrived innocence as they turned wide eyes on Triss. “What if I don’t have to go out of my way, though?”
Triss’s eyes snapped shut against the violent fantasies spinning up from her subconscious. “Maybe just don’t, Little Bit.”
Nodding as Triss’s hand slipped away, Liz turned their shoulder to Zemo. Apparently now that he was off limits, he wasn’t as interesting – dangerous or not. Their aunt had their full attention, and their lips twitched with nefarious glee as a grin spread from ear to ear. “I’m taller than you now.”
Triss scoffed. She’d been gone all of four months. Even a weedy teen couldn’t possibly grow that fast.
“You are not.” A quick once over confirmed they were damn close, though. Very damn close. She straightened her posture, even lifting her chin for maximum gains. Her nibling did the same.
Then Liz went on their tiptoes.
Triss copied them.
They might’ve jumped next, but Zemo’s chuckle shattered the moment, and Triss crashed back down on her heels. She’d forgotten he was there. Just for a minute, but more than enough time for him to – what? – hurt someone? Careless. She’d have to do better.
His eyes sparkled over a smile, something almost warm in his demeanor that hadn’t been there a moment ago, when he scrutinized Liz.
“Your aunt is still a little taller,” he said. “But only just.”
Cold dread froze her gut until her stomach felt hard. She didn’t want him to know that. She didn’t want him to notice Liz, to taste the history of their relationship or imagine how the teen would continue to grow. He had no place in their past, present, or future. But she’d brought him into their home – not just hers. He already claimed a role in her niblings’ stories now. All she could do was minimize it and pray he remembered his promise to forget the way.
Liz took Triss’s hand, watching her expression. Their own morphed into something spitefully defensive, and they turned it on Zemo. His threat didn’t matter to them personally – they were thirteen and thereby invincible – but Liz didn’t like people who disturbed their aunt. They didn’t share with assholes who didn’t deserve her attention, and anyone who made her frown like that must be some kind of asshole.
Time to separate the combustible elements before a fire broke out.
Triss wondered, fondly usherng her nibling towards the door, what Zemo would think if he knew he fell into the same category as Captain America. Left to their own devices, there would be mischief, and it was better not to tempt fate. Anyway, they’d been in Zemo’s presence too long for comfort.
“Head back to your house.” She swung their linked hands out the door, letting go midair, like she could jettison the child across the space. In the last flash of contact, she felt the bubbles of a suppressed giggle interrupting the train of vengeful ponderings. “I love you. Get out.”
Actual laughter escaped as Liz crossed the yard and Triss closed the door. She stayed there for a minute, hands on the cool wood, back to the enemy, unwilling to share all the feelings dancing across thought and face. So, she identified them. Processed them. Buried them.
Happy to be home. Terrified. Concerned and a little guilty about Liz’s vocabulary. Anxious enough to be sick.
Her arm hurt. Her throat ached. Every time she took a deep breath, she fought the need to cough. And if she let herself be still any longer, she’d remember why she felt that way, and she might have to cry about it.
Get moving.
She managed to avoid eye contact with the elephant in the room when she abandoned her shelter and headed straight to the kitchen. What would a baron like to drink? Something expensive, of course, but did he like cocktails or did he prefer his liquor neat? Did she even care so long as she soothed the nagging instincts of a midwestern hostess?
Two fingers of bourbon – local, good, hopefully an interesting distraction – and all but shoved the glass in his hand. He’d followed her into the kitchen. He followed her out again, too. Eyes on the move, gathering intelligence, arming for the inevitable strike.
Because she needed something more to do, she filled the electric kettle from tea and coffee nook between the living and kitchen spaces. Flicked it on. Wondered if any of her guests even wanted tea or coffee in the first place. Huffed.
From the seat he’d assumed in the living room, Zemo purred, “They take after you.”
Sam may have a point about leaving her alone with him. Whatever angle he was playing, she could hear his timbre shift. Here. In the plane. He chose each word so carefully, and the suggestion of menace could so easily be mistaken for something else.
She really didn’t want to look at him. A twitched half-glance showed she was listening without fully surrendering. If he was kind he’d take the hint and drop the subject. “Pardon?”
“Liz.” She heard him take a sip. Her nails sank into the tea hutch’s varnish. “You must be close.”
“Stop it.”
“I am simply –”
“I know what you’re doing. Knock it off.”
He fell silent, and she left the kettle for the little bar where she’d poured his drink across the kitchen. Time to take care of herself. Whether the alcohol would play well with the frigid knot in her stomach was anyone’s guess, but she’d swallowed cheaper booze in worse conditions, so in her iron gut she would trust.
Two fingers of whiskey in the glass and straight down the hatch. It burned the trails of shredded skin along her bottom lip. Another two fingers for moral support and something to keep her hands occupied.
She’d dipped out of sight to fix her drink, but his eyes trapped her with an unbroken intensity when she returned, like he could see her through the wall and she’d never escaped that gaze at all. His head cocked to the side again, and a stern frown drew his expression tight.
“Do you still believe I’m a threat to your family?” It sounded like he really wanted to know. It seemed so obvious from her position. “Even after the promise you asked of me?”
A sip from her lowball glass gave him a second to come to his own conclusions, but once she’d swallowed, she had to talk. “No one’s safe around a man driven by vengeance.”
“Justice,” he corrected.
She shook her head, the whiskey in her empty stomach leaving her a little dizzy. “Vengeance.”
It was his turn to say something – maybe rage or monologue like a good little villain – but he persisted in his silence, demanding more with his posture and eyes and crossed legs.
If he wanted an explanation, who was she to deny him?
“Justice requires reparations,” she said, swirling the finger and a half remaining in her glass. “Rebuilding. Healing. You’re only in the business of tearing things apart, right? Buildings. People. Of course you’re a threat to the people I love.”
At last, his lips parted, and he took a breath to answer – only for the guestroom door to swing open and bring the discussion to a crashing halt. Triss straightened, Zemo turned, and the doctor emerged with Sam in his wake. Neither looked panicked, an excellent sign for the super soldier’s longevity.
“Based on what he said and I saw,” the doctor said, “he needs a week before you dive back into whatever trouble my kid sister pulled you out of.”
Well, fuck.
“A week?” Triss repeated.
He looked nearly as thrilled as she felt. “Yup. If he was anyone else, I’d be driving him to the hospital or digging a shallow grave. I hope you all aren’t in a rush.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Sam assured him, casting a lingering glance at Zemo quietly sipping his bourbon.
A whole ass week of Zemo digging his claws into every part of her life that could bleed. A week of questions. Could they tie the baron up and just feed and water him for seven days? He hadn’t even met the smaller niblings yet… She needed some distance.
Triss set her whiskey on an end table and moved to the stairs. The second floor was more of a balcony with doors to a bathroom and second bedroom, and she easily called down instructions as she made her escape.
“Kettle’s on if you want tea or coffee. Help yourself. Everything’s there. Zemo can show you the booze.”
The doctor scoffed, burly arms folding over his chest as he shouted after her, “And where are you going, my dear Lady Disdain?”
“To take a shower. I smell very literally like a kitchen sink.”
“Oh, nope. Nope, nope, nope. It’s your turn.” He patted the back of the couch. “Here.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure?” Sam asked. “You nearly drowned a few hours ago, and it wouldn’t hurt to have someone look at that arm.”
Triss blanched as the doctor’s eyebrows shot up. This was not how she wanted to come back to her family. And her tank of a brother didn’t need to know about her latest near-death experience. “Sam, you fucking snitch. I’m fine.”
The doctor leaned into his grip on the couch, daring Triss to lie again. In a light, nearly mocking voice he said, “I can give you a check up in your room if you don’t want your boyfriends to watch.”
She flipped him off, but nothing in his stance softened, and she knew she’d have to deal with his concern before he’d let their little drama progress. “Stop talking. I have to get clothes anyway. Let’s do this in my room.”
Chuckling – just a little darkly – he followed her up the stairs, kit in hand. They passed the second bedroom and bathroom, and Triss opened the door to the loft stairs. Her room.
Ascending the steps always felt like an escape, even with her brother shadowing her. She counted each footfall like the beat of her pulse, forcing her to slow down, breathe in time with her actions as her head cleared. Doodles marched along in sharpie, paint, and mutilated decoupage. Half-remembered stories carved into her walls like cave art. The safest place.
At the top of the stairs, the room opened into a finished attic with exposed rafters peaking between the plaster overhead. A sacred triangle of space as thoroughly marked as the stairs. The cacophonous colors and patterns rushing over the sloped ceiling welcomed her back. Spray paint constellations. Trees, and moons, and things too abstract to name. They’d grown organically, spreading with age and shifting dreams to echo the things borrowed, buried, and bleeding in her tangled thoughts. They all came from within, even if they didn’t begin in her head.
The art in the rest of the house hung in frames, picked up from local artists and clever friends. There was a lot, but it made some kind of sense. Triss’s room looked like an explosion to the untrained eye.
The doctor sat heavily on her bed, watching expectantly as Triss settled into herself. The colors looked best when she was drunk, and her mild buzz was doing great things, but now wasn’t the time. With a dramatic sigh, she flopped down beside him.
“Let’s see this arm first.”
He didn’t sound angry anymore, only firm. Doctor voice. Approaching brotherly, but not quite there. Not yet. He had to make sure she wasn’t dying before he could be anything but professional.
She shrugged off her jacket, cringing at the damp spots lingering along her torso as it peeled away from her t-shirt. The bruise still looked horrible, of course, and she winced as he prodded along the bone, hunting for deeper damage.
“It’s been like this for about a day,” she said. “Nothing’s broken. Just a bad bruise.”
He shook his head, not contradicting, just… upset. He wore disposable gloves, so she couldn’t read him, but he rarely kept his emotions off his face. She wondered if he wore the gloves out of habit or to spare her his thoughts. Too much frustration and no ready solutions. Anxiety and disappointment.
A stethoscope came next, and as he pressed it under her shirt to listen to her breathe, he asked, “Do they not have phones in New York?”
“It wasn’t –”
“Deep breath,” he interrupted.
She obeyed, folding her hands into fists. The next person to say “breathe” would catch a punch to the face. So help her.
Satisfied, he put away his instruments, and she took advantage of the quiet.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t entirely on purpose. I meant to call, but…”
“But you were too busy running away.” Finally, brotherly understanding warmed his eyes. He hadn’t entirely forgiven her, but he held no grudges. He understood, even if he didn’t like it. “Yes, I know. Portia worried about you. So did the kids. Why might they have done that?” His pitch rose with the final question, teasing in a demanding way.
Triss rolled her eyes, refusing the guilt he tried to push on her. “Because we’re family.”
“And?”
“And we take care of each other.”
“No fucking shit?”
“Fuck off, Trevor.”
“Oh, I don’t think I will.” With a slap to his thighs, he rose, packing his gear to take with him. “You know your sister is going to tear you a new one, right?”
She knew. Maybe she should’ve drowned in the bar’s sink after all. Portia had months of worries to rage over, and no doubt Trevor would carry Sam’s report on her bumps and bruises to her ears.
Deadpan, she replied, “Can’t wait.”
“You won’t have to. Take your shower – because you do smell like a kitchen sink – then head over.”
As he left, leaving her alone in her sanctum to gather a clean change of clothes, she wished she was a better liar. She wasn’t though. Omitting details and pushing people away with prickly frowns and short words worked most of the time, but she’d never had a great talent for lying, even though she desperately needed it. Her ability brought into contact with strangers too intimately, too quickly. Even if the connection was one-way, it was real, and it nurtured an instinctive empathy that grew like slime mold over her sense of self preservation. Hard to hold onto anything so slick.
People like Sam were a problem. One good tug on her over-inflated conscience and suddenly it didn’t matter how many times she practiced saying “No.” She didn’t have to say yes. Everything just slipped out of her hands.
And when all this was over? Maybe he’d send her a follow-up text. Then he’d forget her number until he needed her again. Bucky would drop her and run, probably wiping his hands on his jacket as he went.
She could only hope the baron would drop and forget, too.
She made a point of ignoring her guests on her way to the shower, even when Sam cleared his throat in the living room below. They had booze, coffee, and a comfortable place to sit. They’d survive. And she needed to push them all back a step. She brought them home. They saw her family. Desperate times called for desperate measures, but it was time to remind them she wasn’t their friend. Time to remind herself.
The hot water felt nothing like the impromptu bath in the frigid sink. A little corner of her mind had worried it would, that she’d have a panic attack and make too much noise, summoning more attention and –
Enough.
No panic attack. Just the usual anxiety.
She washed in a hurry, but she took the time to blow dry her hair before leaving the bathroom. It wasn’t a huge thing, but if she looked put-together when she faced Portia, things may go smoother. Like at work, presentation mattered. She was an adult, not the troubled little sister.
Breezing down the stairs, towards the door, she tried to ignore the two men, but their voices stilled when the bathroom door opened, and her midwestern hostess genes itched.
Hand on the door, she shifted from one foot to the other, wondering how she could ever have a conversation in Zemo’s presence without worrying.
“I’m going to the other house to talk to my sister. You guys should stay here. I’ll come back, or send someone, or – Help yourselves to whatever while I’m gone.”
Sam lunged into the conversation to keep her from immediately rushing out.
“Sister? And the doctor’s your brother?”
“Brother-in-law, technically.”
“Good to know.”
His laughing tone finally drew her around, pulling her to face him. A big smile cracked his face. Now that he knew Bucky would live, that she wasn’t broken, and that they were all – for the moment – safe, he wanted to soften the mood. Put everyone at ease. It made him a great leader. It just made her nervous, though.
Friendship meant favors, and she’d given enough of those already.
“I have to go face the music,” she said, jerking her head towards the door.
“Yell if you need backup.”
“I won’t.”
She’d leave him to guess if she wouldn’t need backup or wouldn’t call as the door clapped into the frame behind her.
He couldn’t be her friend. But, more importantly, she was coming to realize he shouldn’t be Trevor’s friend, either. Not if she wanted to escape with her sanity or any shred of dignity at the end of the week. Both men liked to tease, liked to pick and irritate in a supportive way she couldn’t stay mad at. They’d get along like a house on fire.
Hands in her pockets, she tried to clear the hero, the villain, and the other hero from her thoughts as she approached the big house’s side door. She needed her head on straight when she talked to Portia.
The screen door squealed, clashing with Indila’s Tourner Dans Le Vide. Portia stood over the sink, back to Triss, but she knew exactly who’d entered her sanctum.
“Frankly,” she began, “I wouldn’t mind if you brought home friends, even dangerous ones. But they’re not, are they?”
Vegetables washed, she picked up a knife, and Triss began carefully working her way around the kitchen island. She wanted to see Portia’s face. They both knew she couldn’t maintain this kind of frustration long, and Triss knew which pins would deflate the bubble of rage fastest.
“Sorry I didn’t call.”
“Good. You should’ve.”
Okay. Ouch.
Portia knew exactly what Triss was angling for, and she let her red-blond hair hang past her face as she worked – irritating both of them, but keeping Triss from gauging her mood. It got in her way as she worked, and Triss spotted a hair tie on the counter by the phone, which had abandoned Indila for The Black Keys. She left the music alone – the cook called the tunes – but she plucked the hair tie and held it in Portia’s peripheral vision.
If she ignored it, she’d have to embrace the fact that she was just being stubborn. If she took it, maybe this conversation could go somewhere.
For a hot minute, she did neither. She stopped chopping the carrots and broccoli on the board to just stare. Instead of just taking the tie when her hand shot out, it captured Triss’s fingers.
I was fucking worried, you asshole.
The sisters’ eyes met, and Triss said again, “Sorry I didn’t call.”
She couldn’t apologize for eloping with herself to New York – again – and she couldn’t apologize enough for the mess with the Winter Soldier, Falcon, and an enemy of the state, so there was no point starting. She felt genuinely awful for failing to keep in touch, though. If Portia needed to hear an apology, she could offer that one all day long.
But her sister wanted more than contrition.
Dropping Triss’s hand, Portia wrapped her in a crushing hug, keeping skin contact with her cheek against Triss’s neck so she could pick up on all the things Portia felt too conflicted to say.
She worried about Liz, and Liz needed their aunt. The baby had gotten so big, and Triss had missed so many little things that Portia worried her sister would regret. And Trevor had told her about the drowning, the bruise. That wasn’t supposed to happen now that the family was all back together, and if Triss couldn’t tell these big heroes no, then she should get Portia on the phone and she’d give them a piece of her fucking mind along with a taste of her fist, and – Damn, she was happy to have Triss back.
Triss rubbed circles on Portia’s back as wiry arms cinched her closer. “I missed you, too.”
“I’m not feeding them,” Portia snapped, pulling away as she blinked a little too quickly, hiding tears. “Not tonight at least. Trevor is on his way into town to get pizzas for you. We’ll go shopping to feed your little army tomorrow.”
There was no point arguing, so she nodded along.
Portia sighed. She returned to the vegetables, but Triss stayed close, ready to offer a hand, or a hug, or whatever Portia needed. She’d been scared when Triss disappeared, and when Liz ran in saying their aunt was back and Trevor needed the emergency kit… Oh, and Helmut Zemo would be sleeping a few hundred yards away from her children, a few dozen from her sister.
“I need to figure out some boundaries,” Portia said. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you brought him here.”
“I made him promise to behave,” Triss leaped to explain. Portia glanced over, incredulous, and Triss held up a hand, wiggling her fingers. “He won’t hurt anyone while he’s here, and he’ll never come back.”
“And you believed him?” It wasn’t a sarcastic question. Portia knew her sister.
“Yes.”
Nodding to herself, she looked back to her work before she chopped off a finger. “That changes things.”
“He’s still dangerous.”
“I know. So are the other two.”
“Not like Zemo.”
“Not like Zemo.” She dumped her work from the cutting board onto a baking tray. “Maybe worse.”
Triss kept her mouth shut. She wasn’t looking for a fight, and she agreed with Portia on heroes more often than not.
“Trevor and I will talk it over tonight, discuss things with the kids, and I’ll fill you in tomorrow.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Tires crunched over the gravel outside, announcing Trevor’s return. He must’ve left while she was still in the shower. She wondered how long after their arrival Portia had ordered. Apparently, regardless of whether or not they had a dead super soldier on the property, she had no intention of feeding the assholes her sister had dragged home. Not that night. Not until she’d calmed down. Despite that, she was still so thoughtful. No one starved on her watch, and she knew there was nothing in Triss’s fridge after months away.
“Thank you, Portia.”
“You’re welcome. You’ll be helping me to cook for the horde during the rest of your stay, though.”
She saluted, backing up towards the door. “Understood. See you tomorrow. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
The screen door shrieked again, and she was back in the fresh air. Trevor climbed out of the car, arms full of three pizza boxes, and nodded towards Triss’s house. “Wanna get the door?”
“Sure.”
They walked in on Sam and Zemo trying to pretend the other didn’t exist on opposite sides of the living area. Sam had – to Triss’s gratification – made himself some coffee. A cup steamed at his elbow and the French press sat next to the empty kettle. Zemo had a refreshed glass of bourbon in his hand as he perused her bookshelves. Kids literature on the lower shelves, where her niblings could reach, and a blend of classics, popular fiction, and obscure art books she liked to call eclectic higher up. Pinch-pots and framed doodles from niblings of all ages decorated the spaces between. Pretty rocks they’d pressed in her hands and little finds they’d pooled their resources to buy from antique stores and Etsy shops stood in places of honor. Old keys and a tiny clay dragon. A chunk of geode bought on a family vacation and a hag stone from the creek.
She couldn’t read his expression as he studied the collection.
“Pizza!” Trevor announced. He took the boxes to the kitchen, and Triss followed after him to get plates set out. “Cheese, pepperoni, and margherita. Help yourselves. My patient isn’t allowed to eat anything until I see how he’s doing tomorrow. I don’t think they hit anything but his liver. Better safe than sorry, though.”
Sam came through with Zemo, nodding to Trevor. “We really appreciate this.”
Trevor nodded back, made a light, friendly noise in response that wasn’t quite a thanks, and Triss got a peak at his own dissatisfaction with the situation.
Zemo cleared his throat, hanging back as Triss helped Sam fix his plate. “Might I ask,” he began, “why the nickname ‘Lady Disdain?’”
“It’s her name.” Trevor shrugged. “Shakespeare.”
Zemo frowned. “Triss?”
Oh. Oh no. She gave her brother a look. A single, wordless warning.
Scoffing, Trevor folded his arms over his chest and smiled at his little sister. “You didn’t introduce yourself?” He leaned over to poke her arm. “Are you being shy?”
“Trevor.” She all but growled his name.
Teasing, wheedling, his voice grew even higher. “Are you embarrassed?”
“I will kick your ass.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Though she be but little she is fierce!”
“Trevor!”
Grinning, he pushed on. “Her actual name is Beatrice Hermia Moore.”
Sam winced on her behalf, but he still smiled. “I get why you go with Triss.”
“Yeah.” She tried very hard to kill her brother with her eyes. “No shit.”
“It’s a lovely name,” Zemo said.
“Don’t even start.”
Trevor continued his mission to annoy the living hell out of her. Repeatedly poking her upper arm, leaning close, he asked, “So, you are embarrassed? Didn’t want to tell your boyfriends your real name?”
Irritation flared into offense.
“I’m going to kill you.”
Trevor whirled, sprinting past Zemo – who had to flatten himself against the kitchen doorway – giggling like one of his children. Triss launched after him, hurling death threats. Her guests could help themselves to the damn pizza while she eradicated a pest.
------------------------------------
Zemo ate because he needed to, though he hadn’t settled into his surroundings well enough to conjure any kind of appetite. Despite the discomfort of the unfamiliar, he enjoyed the show through the living room windows as Triss wrestled her brother-in-law. All bared teeth and blazing eyes, she made the perfect counterpoint to Trevor’s laughing faith in his own strength.
She snared him in a respectable headlock that ultimately ended the match, and he smiled, taking a bit of his slice as he turned his back on the spectacle.
He found Sam’s eyes on him. Hardly a surprise, and he tried to shrug off the glare with a breezy quip. “She has a… sweet family.”
Sam’s face was like stone. “Yeah. She does. You’re not gonna do anything to mess that up, are you?”
“I made a promise, Sam.”
The Falcon clearly had something more to say, but Triss chose that moment to sweep triumphantly through the door, and he let it drop. Interesting how invested the former Avenger seemed in her protection when he’d so readily yanked someone with no training or defense into a battle like theirs.
Once everyone had something to eat, their host showed them to a second bedroom up the stairs, next to the bathroom where she’d disappeared for her shower. It had a closet, a desk –
And a bunkbed.
“Liz uses this as their art studio,” Triss explained, clearing folders, notebooks, and loose pieces of paper from the mattresses. “It’s quiet. Sheets are clean. If either of you feel the need, you can take the living room couch, but I’m a night owl, so I might disturb you.”
Sam thanked her – “This is great, thanks.” – and claimed the lower bed the moment the door closed behind her. While he’d warmed much since their introduction outside the German prison, their current arrangement had the man’s protective instincts raging. “If you go anywhere in the night, I need to know.”
Zemo only raised his hands and accepted his lot. For the moment. He had no plans to run for the time being. Everything he needed shared this house with him – Bucky’s strength, Sam’s connections, Triss’s intel. He was sure the men who tried executing her touched her skin at some point, and whatever she gleaned would lead them back to the super soldiers’ trail. He did not enjoy waiting, but he had patience enough to spend a week in the American Midwest with people willing to give a soft place to sleep, plenty to drink, and food to fill his belly. Food and shelter were everything he required for the moment.
Perhaps not everything. He needed to have a discussion with their host. The moment the children burst from the house, he’d understood her demand for absolute confirmation of his promise. No words would ever be enough to safeguard such fragile treasures.
He enjoyed the riddle of her relationship with Captain Roger’s friends, and it had been a long time since he’d spoken with anyone who wasn’t a soldier, a guard, or a threat. Her warning on the plane assured him that, no matter how great her potential, she wasn’t a great risk to him. Possibly not as useful as Sam had hoped, but it was a setback in his favor. Had she been a willing interrogator, he had no doubt they would have asked her powers against him, and he did not like to consider the choices he would’ve faced then.
Once Sam fell asleep, twitching and grumbling with dreams, Zemo slipped from his bed and crept down the stairs. He wouldn’t have a better opportunity to discuss his concerns privately. Hopefully their host’s nocturnal instincts would drive her to the kitchen sooner rather than later. He settled in an overstuffed chair from her mismatched set of living room furnishings with a view of the lower steps and kitchen entrance.
He didn’t wait long. Not even dressed for bed, she came trotting from her place on high. She caught herself halfway down, cringing as she realized her guests may be asleep, and moved with more grace and less ruckus into the kitchen. When she flicked on the light, he rose. He didn’t want to startle her too badly. He hoped she’d hear his footsteps as he entered the room.
“I must be honest,” he said, watching her jump and turn. “The fact you believe I’d hurt children – disturbs me.”
It took a moment for her to catch her breath, a hand to her chest. At least she hadn’t dropped her mug. A short glare, and all was back to normal. Her hands even began the habitual patterns to brew a cup of tea.
She didn’t try to distract him with pleasantries, dropping straight to the heart of the matter. “It’s not like it would be the first time you killed innocent bystanders to accomplish your goals.”
He didn’t argue. She wasn’t wrong, though she’d turned her fear in a direction he would not venture.
“Adults. And I did not enjoy what I had to do.”
“There are adults here, too,” she said. Again, she wasn’t wrong, though her fear chafed him. But she wasn’t finished. “Maybe you just maim some kids. Or orphan them. Lines get blurry when they’re in your way, so I had to make sure when you cross them, it wouldn’t be here, with people I care about.”
He let her speak, watching from the border of the light as she laid out her reasons with razor-sharp edges. They begged to cut, and he wondered if she expected to bleed before this was over.
For a woman with no formal training – or training at all that he could tell – she had a survivor’s outlook. The world had already backhanded her, and she faced each new threat with a pugilist’s gaze, looking out for the next blow. Sure it would come, trying to predict when and where.
“If it makes you feel better, I want to like you.”
Did she? An interesting expression that could mean more than she intended to reveal.
He cocked his head, inviting clarification.
She didn’t meet his eyes as she continued. “There are lots of things about you to like: you’re intelligent, you’re funny. But I’d also like to live to see forty, and that just won’t happen if I let myself trust you.”
He flashed a wry smile she couldn’t see. “I see you’re taking Sam’s warning to heart.”
“Well, I never took a serum, but I’m still a freak, and as much as I’d like to just come out and ask if you plan to kill me, that would be pointless.” She set the kettle to boil and her heavy gaze struck him. The face of the condemned. Men resigned to death wore that look, not young women fixing tea with a houseguest in the middle of the night. “If you want me dead, you aren’t going to warn me. If you say you don’t want me dead, I can’t trust you.”
There was more here, and he would tease it out in time, but for the moment he would like to banish that expression. It told him why she could like the man who posed such a threat. She expected death. She must’ve brushed close before today. By anticipating it, she would soften the hurt.
“Then I must work to make my intentions clearer,” he said, stepping closer.
“Do you even know what they are?” she challenged.
She was asking about blood and death. An inkling of something very different stirred in a place he wasn’t prepared to search.
“Maybe not,” he confessed. A soft smile rose to banish the stiff horror in her eyes. “But it isn’t to murder my host while she makes a cup of tea.”
Chapter 5: Link
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dynyamight · 3 years ago
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I've seen a lot of people do it, so if you are up for it~ Ship your moots!
FINALLY. THE AWAITED LIST OF MOOTS IS COMPLETE. sorry this took forever anon!!
now, this is going to be long & i will try not to overexplain my ship pairings. did i take time to think about each paring? yes. but, will they be serious? no. they are dumb & silly.
let the crack pairings begin <3!!
@dekusneakers x BAKUGOU & TODOROKI now you would think? sneakers in a throuple? how come? mmm simple. i couldn’t choose one for her so she gets both. the more the merrier. besides, she deserves love from both sides, kisses on both cheeks. one begrudgingly smooch & one icy kith. as a deku kin, she’s completely satisfied. you’re welcome
@izusun x AIZAWA & ORCA similarly, i can’t have my bestie here with just ONE babe. so, i thought why don’t we get a fatherly figure & a dad bod to give her all the love she needs. so yes, bestie, you two deserves hugs at both sides of you. a twiggy one & a muscly one. the sun needs some shade, & that shade is these men.
@midnightpirates x SUKUNA he’s a mass murderer !! you can’t— oh, but i can. you see, yanna here hates mahito & guess who was the one to fuck up his shit. ah, that’s right, it was sukuna. two mahito an/tis sitting in a tree <3 it’s the perfect match made in hell.
@goth-himbo-dabi x DOCTOR WHO once again, people might wonder: why not dabi? my answer? it’s because my bby here finds the twiggy men attractive. i know, bummer. & you can’t get any twiggy-er than david tennant & matt smith. but which doctor? all of them.
@minisheku x KAMINARI i see you simp for his dunce face. & honestly, who wouldn’t?? also, i originally put sheepku,, but that’s ,, a bit weird. but, here’s the solution. you OWN a sheepku, with kaminari. ah yes, a modern day family unit. & he can entertain you, as well as be a source of electricity for your drawing tablet !! resources !!
@oyavaski x EN you said he was hot literally in your tags earlier in a reblog. so, i am simply gifting you water to quench your thirst. may you two meet in afo, & fall in love in the subconscious of deku’s mind. will deku feel awks? yeah. but like pfft, he’s so whipped for bkg, he’ll forget you two chilling in the corner of his thoughts.
@okworstie x GOJO & WATARI i never have to look up the gojo tag, like ever. because you’re always plastering his face all over my timeline. & yes, this is a good thing. but, the same applies to watari. i have never even seen bakudiez, or whatever it’s called, but apparently he’s aro, & there’s a moth man, & tape hits post limit thursday’s? yeah just keep both, mimi.
@rrandomtthings x AN/TI as one of fellow loyal, amazing bkdks, i think it’s only fitting that you find true love with a bkdk an/ti. create the banti we seek in our community. the enemies to lovers trope is in your blood, written in your deku genes. so, i dedicate the banti movement with this small offering of a ship. may you find diamonds on the minecraft server & build a diamond cabin.
@believeyourgalaxy x ITADORI you two are such cinnamon rolls !!!! super friendly. super kind. super relatable. & together, you guys can pin over megumi. maybe hopefully, sam can help itadori with his low iq brain to finally get together with megumi. because damn, sam can be like “this is my boyfriend, itadori. & this is itadori’s boyfriend, megumi.”
@wrensknight x SHIRAKUMO i didn’t even know it was oboro birthday, until you not only made a public post about to, but made art for him. cloud boy needs that partner to respect & cherish him entirely. & you just treat him so right?? draw him so good?? i hope you can go cloud watching & then later, ride the clouds with him. till death do you guys uh,, you know,,
@b1m0 x MIDORIYA you can't stand when he gets injured, let alone reckless & trying to save the world, when he should literally be saving his own ass. but, that just means you care about him DEEPLY. plus, you both are wholesome people. obviously two cinnamon rolls make a whole bakery !! & who doesn't want a bakery ?? i sure do! wehjw idk why i brought the point here, but just know you two make sense.
@mysterionrising x RENGOKU & VIGILANTE DEKU it’s that enemies to lovers trope once again !! for someone who wrote him off as annoying the first seconds she met him, kenny sure flipped over to the stan side. ever since then, i can only see kenny when i see rengoku. but, you know who else reminds me of kenny. vigilante deku. it’s super fruity that you have an entire bomb playlist for him. so keep him too !!
@kamishima x KIRISHIMA you are the biggest kiri simp i have ever met. you basically ship kiri with anyone who makes him happy. though, you do have a lot of ships, but with kiri it’s different. & so, i was thinking ‘mmm, if bug ships kiri with so many people?? shouldn’t she ship him with HERSELF?’ boom. suddenly both kiri & bug are happy, with a lovely home. my work here is done.
@ckatsudon x LAW LIET did i dig through your blog. why yes. & you know what i found? reblogs & tags dedicated to L. he’s best boy. he’s precious. he deserves a better end. an end with you. mmhmm !! because if we rewrote death note, where you were light, i think L & light could have been canon. & that also would make you happy. & the rest of the entire world
@drfox-kinnie x UNIKITTY i don’t even know the show, let alone who unikitty is exactly. but, you reblogged a banner, confirming your love for unikitty. & so, i am of course doing you a big favor !! she’s bubbly, friendly, & passionate just like you !! & bestie, while i may not know nothing about her, i know you love her. so, maybe you two platonically have a wonderful time, adventuring with the other wholesome characters !! also,, is she big enough to travel on? if so, look i got you a cat car!!
@midorree x MINACHAKO i ship you with another ship. why? because i can. besides, you are like my moot who is genuinely a head leader of the minachako ship on my timeline, & you have steadily been converting me?? but, i also noticed that mina AND uraraka have stolen your heart, & you have yet to fight them for it back. i hope you three can go into a brawl & see who can grab each other’s hands fastest.
@kiribakuxkacchakolover x HATSUME YOU HAVE IT AS YOUR TITLE HEADER. like you are literally having a billboard that calls mei your cutie patootie. &, you ask, & you shall receive. i hope you two can be the dorkiest nerds together, & ramble for eons & eons. i hope i’m invited to the transformer wedding you two will have <,3
@balaroo x MIRUKO like before, you too have your interest out in the open in your title header. but, you see, miruko is a total babe, with confidence & ego & with this stride that makes even the most alpha male quiver. you would be a total wife to miruko’s girlboss energy & that’s why this ship totally works.
@quix-mix x FREDDY FAZBEAR my precious lil young moot, i dug into your blog & noticed you enjoy the fnaf games. & mmm are you perhaps wanting to cuddle a certain demonic teddy bear? well, i approve. he'll fall in love, head over heels, with your art, he might not possess you right away !! might. but, listen, you always do enjoy the villains (; i gotchu !!
@lonely-rabbit x LANCE you said we’re moots & i agree, we are. however, i have noooo idea what even are your preferences. so, i went digging. & it’s such a coincidence that we bonded over our voltron trauma, & yet you still continue to simp over lance. &, like i don’t blame you !!! he’ll always be dumb baby & so all i ask is that you love him, for our sake. & sanity.
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gay-otlc · 3 years ago
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Keepers Of The Chaos (3)
Summary: Tam, Linh, Dex, Keefe, Biana, and Fitz are part of the tiny fandom for Keeper of the Chaos, and Tam and Linh’s podcast convinces some of their other friends to watch it as well. The group finds themselves strangely invested in this show, where students at Tumblr High School who work together to write about an elf named Sophia, cause incomprehensible chaos, and fight their rival Pinterest High School.
Content warnings: Cursing, religion (Jewish Vackers), and Amsterdam (just in case, I know that was stressful for some people).
Word count: 1621
Notes: Most of the episodes are just events stolen from Lynn's roundup, Dex's memes are here
(Read on AO3)
The life of an amateur meme maker on dumbles dot com was a strange one, that was for sure. After finishing xyr favorite show- Ze-Ra: Monaerchs of Powhir- for the third time, Dex had searched for another show to fill the void in xyr soul. Biana recommended this show called "Keepers of the Chaos" and described it to xem. Xe was doubtful at first, but after watching the first episode, xe was hooked.
Xe used to not have many friends at xyr school, so xe did what every neurodivergent queer teen would do- made an account on dumbles dot com. People seemed to like xem- or at least, they liked dizznee-plus's memes and edits of Ze-Ra characters. Even after Dex befriended xyr squish, Fitz, thons sister, Biana, and aer girlfriend, Sophie, xe continued making content on dumbles. Around that time, the Ze-Ra fandom started dying off, and xyr memes started getting fewer note
In a sudden, two am burst of inspiration, Dex made edits of some of xyr favorite characters, like Ref, Akki, and Rose, with their respective pride flags (all of them bi) over them, and captioned it "we must be gay." The post blew up, or at least, what could be considered blowing up in Keeper of the Chaos's tiny fandom, and that was how Dex found xyr calling as an amateur meme/edit maker for KOTC.
History had been repeating itself, with the KOTC fandom starting to die off, until it was revived by an announcement from creator Saturn Nolastname- a season two would be released soon. Frantically, Dex made a meme about season one episode two, with the car salesman meme. Xe edited "chaos keepers" onto the car salesman, "the rarelynoticed" on the car, and "this bad boy can fit so many stripper outfits into it."
That had been... an interesting episode, to say the least. The chaos keepers had been talking about the antagonists of "Sophie and the Dark Duck"- a rebel group called the Rarelynoticed. In the information packet they'd been given, it was confirmed that the Rarelynoticed wore black cloaks and armbands, but no other clothes had been mentioned. Somehow, the chaos keepers came to the conclusion that the Rarelynoticed really wore neon pink leotards and green stripper heels, then drew this idea.
Needless to say, the Tumblr staff did not let them write that into the book. Nor did Lynn, the unofficially chosen leader of the group. Unfortunately for her, this didn't stop the chaos keepers from drawing more of these- or the fandom from making a ton of memes. In addition to the car salesman meme, a post with Drake saying no to "wearing normal fucking villain outfits" and yes to "leotards and stripper heels" gained popularity within the small fandom.
Though nothing could match the absolute shock of seeing the Rarelynoticed stripper outfit for the first time, Dex decided to rewatch the episode anyway- it was funny to see the chaos keepers freak out, and maybe xe could get some good screen captures. The good Saturn Nolastname indulged xem, and xe captured an excellent scene of most of the chaos keepers either laughing or screaming at the Rarelynoticed stripper outfits, with Kimber- one of xyr favorites- sitting on the side, explaining to Juno and Kaitee why Bianca Cracker was bisexual.
Xe went over to dumbles, posted the picture, added an image description, and captioned it "Live photo of me not caring when my friends talk about sex/romance." Xe chuckled to xemself- this really was how it felt to be aroace. Xe tagged it as aromantic and asexual as well, since dumbles added flag colors. Smiling, xe went to go check xyr notifications.
Xyr jaw dropped when xe saw that @lordofthesnuggles- Fitzroy (Dex didn't know thons middle name) Vacker thonself had liked and reblogged all three of xyr memes, even adding compliments in the tags! Xe'd had a bit of a platonic crush on Fitz for... a really long time, but xe always felt too awkward to talk to thon, so it was nice to see that thon appreciated xyr humor.
Feeling energized- and excited to procrastinate on xyr math homework- Dex went to watch the next episode: Dark Duck Is Jewish Now. Being Jewish xemself, this was a really funny episode to xem.
Lynn had been writing a sort of spinoff- it would be called fanfiction, but it was for her own story- about some of the Dark Duck characters celebrating Christmas, and added a throwaway line about Bianca and Finn Cracker celebrating Hanukkah. Then, her fiance, Shai, had taken that idea and run with it, writing a list of ideas about what would happen if the Cracker family was Jewish. Hir friend Sam had jumped on the idea, and soon they had abandoned writing the actual Dark Duck in favor of writing a story about Jewish Dark Duck characters. Some of the other Jewish chaos keepers, like Ref and Cat, helped out.
To be honest, it kind of surprised Dex that no one had made a joke about the Jewish Crackers just being matzah, so xe supposed xe would have to be the first.
Xe posted that observation, quickly getting a like from Fitz- which made xem smile. After a few minutes, Dex posted another meme: Shai and Sam standing in front of a door with a sign that read "elves don't have religion," and them saying "This sign won't stop me, because I can't read!"
It was accurate.
While that episode was great for Jewish representation, and funny, the Banana Noir episode was just plain weird.
It focused less on the Dark Duck than most of the other episodes, and was more about the crazy interactions of the chaos keepers. The episode was named for Banana Noir, who was really Cat Noir, but in a banana suit. Banana Noir was the son of Mellie, who looked like a shark, and Nora, who had platonically married faer. The mothers tried to arrange a marriage between him and Akki, who loved the side characters of the Dark Duck series. However, Akki wanted to marry Amelia. After a lot of shit that basically no one understood, Banana Noir's attempts were thwarted, and Lynn officiated the wedding between Akki and Amelia.
Yeah, Dex had no idea what the fuck was going on either. Xe'd watched an episode of Twins of the Chaos and a youtube video by arsonpog analyzing the Banana Noir chronicles, as it had been dubbed by the chaos keepers, and both expert opinions seemed to agree that Saturn Nolastname and the rest of the writers had probably been on crack when they made that episode.
The next episode made slightly more sense, though it was a low bar. After taking a break from the "official" Dark Duck story, the chaos keepers began collectively writing a Cinderella story about the characters Sophia and Bianca. People weren't allowed to be queer in the official story, but the chaos keepers still wanted to have fun with their obviously gay characters.
Even to the viewers of the show, who only received secondhand information about the Dark Duck characters, knew there was no way any of them, let alone all of them, were allocishet. The exact identities weren't entirely clear- when Dex had made edits of the characters' official art and xyr headcanons for their pride flags, a few people had disagreed- but both the chaos keepers and the fandom knew that despite what Shannon said, Sophia and Bianca were in love, and their Cinderella story should have made it in to the official Dark Duck story.
While excerpts of the Cinderella story were quoted in the show, most of it was left unclear, so Biana had taken it upon aerself to write aer own version of it. Dex was expecting an update later  that day, actually, or maybe the next. Ae wasn't always 100% reliable with aer update schedule. Still, Dex looked forward to when it eventually did come.
After the brief calmness from the Sophianca Cinderella episode, season one episode six, Amsterdam, exploded back into chaos. A few of the chaos keepers decided to discuss a fake scene in the book in which crazy shit went down, with the scene supposedly being located in Amsterdam. It had never been written and was never going to be, but everyone discussed it like it was real. Some of the highlights involved all the Dark Duck girls having swords (and the chaos keepers being gay for them), and a speedboat chase scene through the canals. Fitz had a popular theory that the chaos keepers would actually travel to Amsterdam in order to commemorate this crazy part of their lives. Almost as popular as that was a meme Dex made, with a man labeled "chaos keepers discussing amsterdam" and gesturing feverishly to a wall covered in papers and red string.
Of course, episode seven (Dark Duck Disney) was chaotic too. Everything was chaotic with this group, it was in the title. Shannon announced that the winning Dark Duck story would be adapted into a Disney movie. After past experience with terrible book to movie adaptations, the chaos keepers panicked. They panicked so much that it became major news within their school, which until then, had been largely ignoring the chaos keepers. Once the discussion about the movie settled down, they talked a lot about how in awe they were that their Dark Duck shenanigans were trending within the school.
But of course, none of that compared to the last episode of the season...
Dex changed xyr profile picture to include an ominous pair of teal eyes and sighed.
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thewritingstar · 4 years ago
Text
Beautiful Revelations
Pairing: Gruvia (I know its been a hot ass min)
Fandom: Fairy Tail 
tags: @shellielyzabeth @be-dazzled @nostalgicxslumber @unvalley @tigerfire54
Note: It has happened. I have written 200 fanfics and idk if I should be proud or slightly scared. (feel free to skip this omg why is it so long) 
I want to say thank you to everyone who has read, liked, reblogged or interacted with me in any way. I have always had a feeling that no matter what I write, I wouldn’t matter. But every comment and sweet note left made me realize that even if its just a smile or enough to make someone hit the like button, I made a small difference or added something to the fandom. Most of my fics are quick drabbles full of spelling mistakes, random thoughts and love for the characters. I know I don’t write very long stories or finish my wips (why are we surprised) but even though Im not someone people look to as a big author, each of you have made me feel special. There have been many times, this year especially that I had decided to give up writing. “Im not good enough and no one will even notice” Thats what I told myself if I decided to just back away. But every so often I would look and see that someone new or old had read my work. Every time someone reads something I wrote, I go back and read it too. I look at all the tags and see every comment and I stop and smile and remember how much joy it brought me when I first posted. 
When I first started writing, I thought that I wouldn’t have a place. Yet in a very short span of time, I was welcomed with open arms and people started to tune in regularly for my fics. I had been given many nicknames such as Gruvia goddess, angst queen, satan (yes I know the fic0 and well even Star. 
During my darkest moments, my mind lingered to my writing and to my internet friends. without hesitation I could message someone and feel better and be given the reassure I need. I can't even begin to say how much it means to me that people actually enjoy my writing and even me as a person. 
I thank each of you for giving me a joy that was considered a luxury at one point and allowing me to write whatever I wanted and you took it with love and made me happier than I have been in years. To all the people who made art or wrote me something, it means so much to me. 
Im not saying that this fic is my greatest but I think it has a special place because It shows the growth over time. 200 fics is a lot and whether or not they were all good, it doesn't matter because I did that and I can say that im proud. Im sorry for all that sappy shit but I wouldn't be where I am without you all. 
-Star <3 
ps: im not dying or stop writing fics im just happy lol 
---
  “There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a               heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.”
― Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever
---
It was the nights like these that she hated most. The cold would creep through the blankets and make her shiver as her eyelids hung heavy. She could be ready to rest, let the sweet dreams guide her but instead those dark intrusive thoughts toyed with her like a fly on a freshly woven web. They would sprout out of nowhere, tangled with thorns and hold her mind hostage as it injected its sickly venomized thoughts for the night.
She always wondered how she got this far. She was one of the highest members of Phantom Lord, her abilities had rarely been matched. If she desperately craved, she could walk down the hallways and strike fear into the other members, no one could touch her. Hierarchies became a custom here. Once you made it to the top after clawing your way with blood, sweat and probably more blood, you were a god. Yet she walked in and in the next few minutes she was at the table with the master, already receiving a promise that she was special, a delicate and useful ally for the guild.
Special. What a swollen lie that turned out to be.
Maybe that's why she never bothered to search for a light, something to cure the rain. For every life she had bruised or ended, she wanted to feel the pain that followed. She needed to know the consequence of her actions, to be held accountable for ruining another family or taking something from the innocent. Instead she was celebrated.
The days turned to months and she found herself years later not knowing what anything meant anymore. Life used to be black and white. She would walk the side of the kind and good and now she was treading through a swarm of a morally gray compound.
These restless nights, she loathed them but then again, suffering was something that came naturally to her. The only person to ever knock her down was herself.
She climbed out of bed, fuzzy slippers over her feet as she walked to the bathroom. Her headache had worsened and she stared into the mirror. She had looked at herself a thousand times but… have her eyes always been that blue? No, she was tired and her vision was fuzzy, she was fine. Cold water came to her hands as she turned on the facet and splashed her face. Everything was the same as it always was. Expect for today.
Her order was simple. Defeat whoever stood in her way and make sure the Phantom Lord got Lucy Heratfilia. Why did they want some mage? She didn’t know but she was never one to second guess her orders. To go against what she was told was a waste of time, she would have been dead by the end of the day if she did. She had once believed that they accepted her with open arms, that Phantom Lord truly cared about her well being. It was a lie. A bitter sweet lie she allowed to remain in her head.
Hundreds of opponents had come before her. She was accustomed to the way of a battle and had harnessed her skill at a young age. The pure power of the rain pushed her further. She had an unlimited amount of power around her, unlike others, they would run out of fuel. She began to crave that god-like power. Allow the storm to rage on, all she had was herself and the droplets that followed. She understood she was an outcast. Love was never an option, not for someone who brought gloom everywhere.
But this afternoon, fate was a funny thing. She walked onto that rooftop, winning was the only thing on her mind, but he was there. A man who didn’t back down, a man who saw her as an equal.
Her heart began to race. It was forgien and she wasn’t sure if she liked it. She had felt attraction before but this, this was different. Something as small as a single glance had already spun her mind into a muddled mess. It would have been better if she turned around, if he didn’t engage in the fight. Then maybe she wouldn’t be thinking of him like this.
Love at first sight. That wasn’t real. No one could possibly have that happen. What could drive someone's emotion so wild that they become attached to a person in such a short time? And yet it happened. He stood there waiting for the next move and she could only gaze at him with rose colored glasses.
An enemy. A traitor. That's what she would be if she dared to let him escape. She couldn’t hestatite, she never did and now she was frozen in her spot as ice magic danced around her. Peoples magic and abilities never intrigued her, but this, this was beyond anything she had seen.
The light reflecting off of the ice as her droplets froze before her eyes was breathtaking and she hardly noticed that she was losing the battle. She never thought rain could look, dare she say, beautiful? But in this state of its frozen glory, it was all she could think about. She envied those who never had to stay in the rain, a jealousy she didn’t want to admit had festered over the years and she gave up trying to despise the element. But before her was something much more than the state she was accustomed to. Ice. The solid purity of her own and she had wondered what it would be like to hold it in her hands.
She had water locked him, pulled out all of the stops and even with that, he stood again and again. He had screamed that the water was boiling, burning his skin but never before had the water gone above warm. It was usually ice cold on the tipping point of freezing but she could feel the warmth surrounding her.
It shocked her just the same. She had heard people talk about feeling the sun kiss their skin, the warmth spreading as they walked, this was the closest she had felt to that. This warm rush of water was beyond what she had known and yet even as it tinged her hands it felt good, it felt freeing, it felt right.
It burned in a way she had craved for so long. Something other than the fridgeness she had grown used too.
She stared at her reflection in her mirror, tears brimming her eyes. How could one person she just met bring her something she had never felt before? She shut the light out in the bathroom and walked back to her bed, passing her window, she stopped and turned.
Above in the sky was the moon. A soft white glow surrounded the orb that she had never seen before. It was breathtaking. A cosmic power the normal people of the world didn’t dare to worship now became a luxury. The sky was clear and she could see the stars, she could sense them all. How could she have lived her entire life never once seeing the moon and the sun? She had been cursed to live in the rain forever.
But he-he made it stop.
When he grabbed her arm, it was like time had stopped. As if everything she had ever known was washed away and all she could see was a bright light encasing him. She was content knowing her death was coming, there was hardly a reason for her to live. Perhaps she wasn't even living, just surviving day after gloomy day.
He pulled her to safety, her back against the roof as she panted heavily. Those clouds above her moved like a curtain for a show, parting just so that she could see the enchanting mystery she had always craved.  
She had never known a blue sky till then. The brightness was almost unbearable as she stared into a sky she had never known. So many emotions flooded her head but it was clear as those ice crystals that her heart was beating for him. She was his enemy, they made that clear from the start but he hadn’t hesitated to save her. He showed a mercy she had never come across.
Another tear fell as she sat on her bed.
“He saved Juvia.” She whispered to herself. A horrific thought came to her. Would she have saved him? She didn’t want to know the outcome because deep down she believed she was good. Beneath the surface of unremosle power, there was that scared little girl who never had anyone to care for her.
The amount of days she sat in that orphanage alone sewing her dolls and praying that the rain stopped one way or another, it was as if she couldn’t remember it. He had done the impossible. He showed her the sky she hadn’t seen. He had shown her kindness.
A thought came to mind as she stood and packed her things. No more would she be known as “the rain woman”. No more would gloom be her only trait. She was determined to find something much more appealing than those bowing by fear. She wanted love. She wanted that warmth of the water constantly and the feeling of the sun on her skin. She understood it now. There was a power strong than her, stronger than any wizard that surrounded the other guild.
She had vowed to be done with love. Promised herself that no man could hurt her again. She was trembling at the thought of being vulnerable once more. The only time she felt warmth was the scorching burn of a fiery rejection and words that burned like lava. It was too much for someone to handle. So she pushed it down, locked the key and threw it as far as she could. The temptation though. The idea of letting her guard down for someone, someone she barely knew? How she fantasized of that moment. She had once believed that someone of her past had done that, but they were all the same. Ashamed of the rain, the rain she caused, the pain she brought.
And after their fight when she collected herself and tried to run back towards her guild, he stopped her.
“For what it's worth I think you’re an incredible wizard. You may not want to believe that your guild is dark and bad but, Fairy Tail is always open.” He had said it with such sincerity that she wasn’t sure if it were true.
“Juvia thinks your magic is just as powerful.” She had said before he gave her a smile and turned away to go back to his other guild mates.
And here she stood, a suitcases packed in the night and a note left on the desk. This guild didn’t deserve any words. Not when they feasted on her ability. Harvested those negative emotions and almost made her fall into the deep end.
She knew what they would say. They would call her a coward. A traitor and a worthless wizard, at first it was enough to stop her. Make her stay and perhaps bring back the clouds. However what he said stuck in her mind.
“I would rather die fighting than let your guild have Lucy! She is one of us and we don’t leave anyone behind.”
Without hesitation he made it clear that every member of the guild was valued no matter how long they had been there, they were a family. If something like that would have happened, if she were threatened, her guild would let her die without a second thought.
Never again would she allow someone to have a hold over her. She spent too many years sheltered by pain and deviation to go on like that.
She grabbed her bag and closed her door.
--
Juvia stood in front of the door. The morning would be better to do this but it was beyond dark outside and she didn’t want her intrusive thoughts pulling her back to her old guild. Softly she knocked, maybe hoping that he wouldn’t hear it and force her back to the isolation of fear.
The open clicked open and her eyes widened slightly as a sleepy Gray leaned against the door frame, shirtless and rubbing his eyes.
“Juvia?” He blinked and watched as her cheek puffed out in red. He looked down to see that he was only in his underwear and let out a yelp as he grabbed a blanket off the chair. “What are you doing here?”
“Um Juvia thought.” She paused and looked towards the ground. “Actually Juvia apologies for disturbing you.” Her back was to him and she began to walk away.
“Wait!” His hand caught hers and he pulled slightly. A jolt of warmth spread through her, burning her like a thousand suns as well as the chill of ice from his own temperature. She looked back at him, eyes wide and lips parted. “Juvia, please just tell me.”
“Such kindness.” She whispered to herself. Her heart rate sped up just like it did earlier and she swallowed a breath. “Juvia was wondering…why did you save her?”
His hand dropped her as if he were shocked that she would dare question his action.
“I wasn’t going to let you die. Enemies or not, I don’t think you deserved that fate. I don’t believe that you are this evil person your guild made you out to be. To be honest when you fell, you look like you didn’t care what happened and I guess I saw myself in you.”
“You saved Juvia because you know what it's like?”
“To feel lost and hopeless I guess.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Sometimes it's hard thinking you deserve to live, that it would be better to harbor all the pain of your past. I don’t know everything about you but that look in your eyes. I couldn’t let you go knowing that there was a brighter future ahead.”
A tear dripped from her eye. Her smile was soft as hugged her arms to her body. “You knew Juvia would join the guild.”
“Well I wouldn’t say I knew, but I was hoping that you would. If you still want to, that is.”
“Juvia would be honored.” She bowed respectfully towards him.
Gray smiled and bowed back. His eyes faced the sky looking towards the moon. “Have you ever seen it?”
“Tonight would be the first. Juvia thinks the stars are remarkable.”
“Lucy knows alot about them, I think you two would be good friends.”
Juvia shook her head as regret twisted in her stomach. “Juvia accepts your kindness and compassion but she doesn’t know if the rest will. Juvia was her rival, she understands if everyone doesn’t see her as a friend.” She frowned slightly.
A laugh came from the ice mage's mouth. “That's the thing about Fairy Tail, no matter where you come from or what your past may have held, there's always going to be a friend waiting.”
Juvia nodded. “Thank you Gray. Juvia will talk to your guild master tomorrow.”
“Like I said before. You’re an incredible wizard, you’ll be just fine.” He winked.
“Have a nice night.”
“You too.”
She watched as he entered his house before turning around and walking towards her hotel. Her shoulders felt lighter and she held her head high for the first time. This was her step in the right direction, this was where her new life began.
Time had slowed and allowed her to pause. A beautiful revelation she never knew could exist came to mind as she just realized that she was in love.
---
She looked down at her leg in the mirror. The voices behind her had faded to the background as she became entranced with the mark of Fairy Tail.
“The blue suits you.” She turned to see Gray standing there with a smile as he was focused on her guild mark.
To say that she was grateful was an understatement. Her mask she wore like a crown had shattered. It unravels in his hands as the months went on and all that was left was the person she wanted to be. She could finally let go of her ghosts, her darkness and begin to forgive herself.  
---
“What do you think?” He asked her as the white sky fell with snow.
Gray had told her of a special spot he used to go to when the first snow came. Past the forest was a clearing of grassy hills that would soon become a winter wonderland. Laid out on one of the hills was a blanket and a few lanterns.
She held her hand out and felt the tiny snowflakes collect on her hand. He sat behind her, one arm snaked around her waist while the other hand rose above hers and created a small flurry of snowflakes.
“Breathtaking.” She gushed. This was the first time she had seen snow fall. Her eyes followed the ice magic as it formed a heart and blew into the sky joining the other flurries. She turned so she could meet his eyes and his normal content face was replaced with a smile.
He leaned forward until their noses touched briefly. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?” He said and she only had a moment to process his words as his lips landed on hers and her eyes fluttered close.
Her hand went to his cheek as she leaned towards him, her energy matching his and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart. She would be embarrassed to say that she might have dreamt of this moment a little too much but it didn’t matter now. All she knew was that her beloved felt the same.
---
For once she was happy to hear a cry. That little whimper bubbling from the baby's mouth, her baby, she was in disbelief. Perfection was a rarity. No one was perfect, but the being with a tuft of dark blue hair and grey eyes would beg to differ. A child was never in her future. The thought came up randomly but the idea of raising a family wasn’t even a question.
During her missions in her old guild, she would walk past a family. She would see happy faces on everyone and would only be filled with envy and hatred. Disgusting was what it was. How could you love someone else when there was no love for you?
But times change. She would see others holding their child's hand and feel a warmth in her heart at how the children beamed up at their parents. She could sense the love all around them and would smile herself, hoping that it might become a reality for herself.
She would wake in the middle of the night, not from her demons but for her new reason to live. He would babble and tug at the locks of her hair and giggle when water magic danced before his young eyes.
---
It was nights like these that loved the most. The soft rays of moonlight casting shadows through her window as silk sheets wrapped around her bare form. She used to spend nights alone, only her pillow to catch her tears and now delicate fingers trail her backside as she listens to the thumping of his heart. His chest rises and falls as her own follows the rhythm. Her eyes flutter close as her tiredness grows untils it's interrupted by a cool press of lips under her ear.
A peaceful sigh leaves her lips as she tilts her head up to meet dark eyes gazing at her. Flushed cheeks was something she wore often and she lifted off of him to move further up and meet his lips with hers. He pulls her back to him, hating the emptiness between them and adores the way she shivers when his thumb traces her guild mark.
Their love was honest and raw. She had learned that nights like those in the past would haunt him as well. They would keep him up and plague his thoughts with images of death and destruction. But now, they lingered in the shadows, always there but something brighter and beautiful guarded them to peace and she focused on the way he breathed her name then the tears that dropped.
There was an overwhelming amount of happiness that she had gathered after all the years she spent in Fairy Tail. She found friendship and family bonds. Love in all forms that she cherished deeply. Her powers were seen as a gift to help others and lend a hand, not twisted into medled lies that she had spent so long untangling.
Her lips pulled from his slowly and their breaths settled between them. When she looked at Gray she found something more. She had freedom and rebirth. Forgiveness and lust wrapped into something more than love. Their bond was stronger than she could have ever dreamed and when he left kisses over her skin she wanted nothing more in life than to stay frozen in this moment.
He did the impossible. He opened a door, shined a light through her darkness and allowed her to accept the fact that she did deserve to live. She could cherish moments and keep them as her own without the threat of corruption. Her life was now her own to command and she did it with such grace and beauty that Gray couldn’t imagine her being any different. 
“I love you.” He promised and there was no doubt in her mind that he meant it.
“I love you too.” She responded.
The beautiful truth was that she was finally at peace and loved herself. 
---
I hope that you all enjoyed and thank you for being so lovely <3
141 notes · View notes
lightsupinthenorth · 4 years ago
Text
Harringrove teachers AU part 2
Part 1
*
First of all, thank you very much to everyone who read, liked and/or reblogged the first part. Also, to the people who reacted or said nice things in the tags: you made my day with your sweet words <3
Tag list: @twoprettyboys, @inkedplume​, @marianaosborne​, @liglitterbug​, @hmg621 @spreckle @goldenweatherharringrove
If anyone wants to be added to or taken off the tag list for the future posts of this AU, let me know ;) 
*
Trying to avoid Steve Harrington soon proved to be impossible. He was pretty much everywhere. The fact he was close to Robin and Heather, who Billy himself had quickly befriended, didn’t help. Steve was always hanging with them in the teachers’ lounge before class and eating with them at the cafeteria at lunch. And, as if it weren’t awkward enough already, Steve and Billy almost never interacted directly. Apparently, Steve was tolerating Billy’s presence, but it didn’t go any further than that. Beside a half hearted “hello” when they saw each other, Steve barely ever said anything to him.
Billy tried to start conversations with him. Several times. But Steve always answered shortly, so Billy dropped it.
And he was angry about it.
Because, even though it pained it greatly to admit it, Billy would have loved for Steve and him to be friends.
Every single person in this school seemed to adore Steve, from the students to the staff.
At least a couple of Billy’s students arrived late to English whenever they had Math with Steve beforehand. They always served Billy the same excuse: they had a question of utmost important to ask “Mr. Harrington”, and it couldn’t have waited their next Math class. Billy didn’t buy the bullshit. Strangely, no one arrived late because they had something to discuss with the teacher when they had History with Murray or Science with Sam before English. Half the students had a crush on “Mr. Harrington”, and that was it.
The students regarding Steve like some kind of God was bad enough without the other teachers doing it too. Robin and Heather hugged him all the time, and Murray was constantly holding him hostage about some weird documentary he had watched or whatever theory he had last come up with, and the school counselor, Joyce, smiled extra warm every time she saw him. Even Hopper, the headmaster, would light up when he talked with Steve.
And Billy understood why. Because, while Steve didn’t lose any love on Billy, he was a ray of sunshine to everyone else. He gave his coworkers bright smiles, asked them how they were as if he genuinely cared (and he probably did) about what was going on in their lives, he gave his students encouragements when they came to the teachers’ lounge asking for him during recess (which happened far more often that it should have) because they had trouble with some mathematical concept that Billy didn’t give a damn about.
Steve was a saint with everlasting patience… Except when it came to Billy, apparently. And Billy was so envious he was nearly green with it.
He was also feeling self-conscious, wondering what Steve had seen in him to shun him even though his kindness knew no bound where anyone else was concerned. It couldn’t just be that Billy looked unprofessional, right? Some people that he’d seen Steve interact with enthusiastically had traits far more negative than that, at least in Billy’s book. It made no sense and frustrated him to no end.
He was starting to think that Steve’s dislike of him was just a visceral reaction and had no valid reason. Then, Steve had to go and do something confusing.
Billy was eating lunch in the cafeteria, waiting for Heather and Robin (and Steve, by extension) to join him, and Steve sat down in front of him. Billy immediately noticed the huge piece of chocolate cake on his tray.
“How come you got some cake? I saw someone take the last piece right in front of me.”
Billy was feeling absurdly sour over it. He could have really gone for something sweet.
“Oh… Maria saved it for me.” Steve admitted.
At least, he had the decency to look sheepish.
“Right…” Billy replied, pouting a little.
Of course, one of the lunch ladies had put a piece of cake aside just for the Lord and Savior of Hawkins High. Billy should have known.
“Do you want it?”
Billy blinked at Steve, answering a second too late to appear unsurprised by the question.
“Ugh… no, thank you.”
Had Steve really… offered to give him his dessert? Had he really been nice to Billy? Or had Billy just hallucinated the entire thing?
“You sure? I honestly wouldn’t mind…” Steve said, looking at his plate rather than at Billy.
He was just saying that to be polite, obviously. Billy wasn’t going to take his dessert away from him. It would only make Steve dislike him more.
“I’m sure.”
“Okay.” Steve looked up from his plate and offered a small forced smile, before focusing on his food once again.
Things were already back to normal (ie. Steve not talking to him), then.
Heather and Robin arrived barely a minute later, saving them from the awkward silence that had taken place after their thirty-second conversation (if it could even be called that).
As soon as he had finished eating, Steve announced:
“I’ve gotta scoot. I have to prepare some stuff before my next class.”
He had already got up from his chair when he reached the end of his sentence.  
“You still on for tomorrow?” Robin asked.
“Sure thing. See you then!”
Steve took his tray and walked toward the exit in quick strides.
“What’s tomorrow?” Billy asked.
“We’re going to Benny’s coffee shop to grade some papers. You can come if you want.”
Billy had just played himself, hadn’t he? He had asked out of curiosity. He hadn’t been expecting to be invited along to whatever Robin and Steve had planned.
“I wouldn’t want to intrude”, was Billy’s last ditched effort to avoid what was sure to be an extremely awkward afternoon.
He could have come up with some fake excuse, but he was uncomfortable with the idea of lying to Robin. Because she’d been nice to him so far, and also because he was almost certain she would see right through him. She was far too observant for Billy’s good.
“Nonsense, you wouldn’t be intruding.” Robin rolled her eyes.
“Uh… okay, then. Thanks.”
Billy was about to eat his vanilla pudding, aka his sad non-chocolate cake dessert, when Max came up to their table and awkwardly said “hello” to Heather and Robin.
“Something you want?” Billy questioned, because she was obviously there to ask him something but wouldn’t spit it out.
“I’m going to Art club this afternoon. It ends at six… Will you come get me?”
Billy arched an eyebrow.
“We have an Art club?”
Also, since when was Max into art?
“Yeah… well actually today’s the first session… whatever. Will you drive me back home or not?”
“Can’t you skate?”
Now Billy was just being an asshole. Max had been skating to and from school most days since, according to her, it was “uncool” to be seen hanging with a teacher… which was stupid because 1. Billy was her brother, and 2. There was nothing uncool about him.
“I… ugh… well. I broke my skateboard.”
Max bit her lower lip.
Billy sighed.
“Again?”
“Yeah… sorry.”
“Okay, fine, I’ll drive you home.” Billy conceded, making a quick mental note to go buy Max a new skateboard. For the third time this year.
“Thanks. Later.”
She was gone as quickly as she had come, leaving Billy to deal with Robin and Heather’s puzzled faces.
“What was that?” Heather asked.
“Maxine Mayfield…?” Billy said, hoping to avoid this particular conversation.
The universe didn’t want him to avoid things that day, though.
“I know that, dumbass. You know each other?”
“Yeah, she’s my sister.”
“What?! How come we didn’t know that?”
“We don’t have the same name, whatever. It’s not that big a deal.” Billy mumbled.
“Yeah… but still… you could have told us.”
“Here honey, have some cake, it’s delicious.” Robin said, extending her fork to Heather.
Billy was thankful for the distraction. But he mainly focused on the cake, that he had only now taken notice of.
“Did Maria save that for you?” He asked.
Robin frowned.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“Never mind.” Billy said.
-
Billy chose to stay at school after his last class and to wait in the teachers’ lounge until Art club was over and Max was ready to go home. He would have used the time to grade some papers, but he was supposed to do that tomorrow afternoon with Robin… and Steve. So he spent the hour and a half reading, instead.
He went to the classroom, which Max had given him the number of by text, five minutes before the session was supposed to end. He waited at least fifteen minutes before the first student left the room, greeting Billy on the way out.
Max came out last, along with El, the headmaster’s adopted daughter. She was one of Billy’s students. She had some troubles in English because, from what he had been told, she had only started learning the language recently. She was pretty quiet, maybe because of that exact reason, but she seemed like a very sweet girl. It would be good for Max to hang out with her. Billy didn’t dare ask because he didn’t want to put Max on the spot or make her feel bad, but he feared she had yet to make friends at school.
Billy’s thoughts were interrupted when none other than Steve Harrington emerged from the classroom right after the girls. Well, that explained the ten minutes Billy had had to wait.
Steve had paints all over his hands, and some on his shirt. There was even a little blue spot on his cheek. He looked painfully cute. Billy didn’t like it one bit.
“Billy?” Steve asked, sounding as shocked as Billy felt. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to pick my sister up.” He said, gesturing to Max. “You run the Art club?”
Billy didn’t mean to sound this disbelieving, but he was having a hard time reconciling Math teacher and art enthusiast. Was that judgmental? Was Billy a hypocrite?
“We don’t have a real art teacher so… uh… for lack of a better option, I’m taking care of it for the time being.”
“You’re great at it, Steve.” El said with a beaming smile.
Did all his students call him Steve or was it only the headmaster’s daughter? Billy was intrigued.
“Oh thanks, El. You’re too nice.”  
Billy almost said: “that’s the pot calling the kettle black”, but he thankfully kept his mouth shut.
Steve locked the classroom door and then turned back to them.  
“Well, girls, Billy, have a good weekend. See you on Monday.”
“Actually, you’ll be seeing me tomorrow.”
What had happened to Billy’s mouth staying shut?
“Oh… you’re coming? That’s… that’s great.” Steve stammered.
He smiled, but it was too late: Billy had seen the disappointment in his eyes.
“Yeah… great. Have a good evening, Steve.” He sounded cold, as he said it.
“Y-you too.”
Yes… The coffee date was going to go swimmingly.
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sayuricorner · 4 years ago
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Ever After High x Twisted Wonderland AU  Headcanons part 8
Part 7        Part 9
AU concept
MASTERLIST
Warning: English is not my first language so sorry if it’s confusing!
This part will focus on Raven’s, C.A. Cupid’s and Poppy’s twisted Wonderland profile and as well on some headcanons of them with the Pomefiore dorm and the school.
Characters profiles:
Name: Raven Queen
Gender: Female
Age: 15-16
Birthday: November 25
Starsign: Sagittarius
Height: 165 cm
Eye color: purple
Hair color: Dark with purple shades
Homeland: White kingdom
Dorm: Pomefiore
School year: first year
Occupation: Student
Club: Light music club
Best subject: Music
Dominant hand: Left
Favorite food: Salted caramel
Least favorite food: Anything too spicy (ex: hot sauce)
Dislike:  Doing what is “hexpected” of her aka being the new Evil Queen
Talents: Singing and music in general
“Everything is so differents from all what I though I knew, but this school do to me one thing Ever After High never do: it give me the opportunity to make my own destiny!”
In bonus, here’s some illustrations and fan arts of Raven in the AU done by the amazing and talented @zebrabaker​ and @icant-choosename-help​ ! ^^
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Raven Queen(made with Dolldivine) by @zebrabaker​ as she is presented in their fanfiction “Choosing Destiny” go read it and their others fanfics as well please their writtings are amazing! ^^
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Raven Queen as a Pomefiore student draw by @icant-choosename-help​  you can see this fan art’s post by clicking on this link and please take time to also check their others arts they’re an awesome artist! ^^
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Name: C.A. Cupid
Gender: Female
Age: "old as teenage love"
Birhtday: November 24
Starsign: Sagittarius
Height: 165 cm
Eye color: Blue
Hair color: Pink
Homeland: Olympus
Dorm: Pomefiore
School year: First year
Occupation: -Student
                    -Presenter at the school’s radio station
Club: School’s radio station(she’s the founder of that club)
Best subject: Mythology history
Dominant hand: Right
Favorite food: Cupcakes
Least favorite food: Can’t eat some fresh fruits, vegetables or nuts unless they’re baked(Headcanon I made up: she had a pollen-food syndrome that she contract because of her pollen allergy)
Dislike: Not being able to help someone’s love problems
Hobby: Give love related advices to her peers
Talents: love advisor 
“In those troubled times some people’s hearts become troubled as well, with time they will heal and I’ll make sure to help!”
-------------------
Name: Poppy O'Hair
Gender: Female
Age: 15-16
Birthday: june 19
Starsign: Gemini
Height: 165 cm
Eye color: Blue-cyan-green
Hair color: Auburn with half dyed purple
Homeland: White kingdom
Dorm: Pomefiore
School year: First year
Occupation: Student
Club: Fashion club( she’s the founder of that club)
Best subject: Art
Dominant hand: Left
Favorite food: Chicken wings
Least favorite food: Liver and onions
Dislike: Being restraint in her creativity
Hobby: Fashion
Talents: Fashionnista
“New school, new horizons and a new page to my story!”
Raven Queen at Pomefiore:
-The first times at Pomefiore and NRC in general were a bit akward for Raven mainly because of the cultural shock.
-Her dormmates were very nice but them over complimenting her was very akward to her so at first she mainly hang out with Epel.
-With Vil at first things were not simple, you see, he was VERY extasic to had the direct descendant of the Beautiful Queen in his dorm so he was often rambling to Raven about how an honor it was to have her in Pomefiore, how great the Beautiful Queen was and how proud she must be to had the Beautiful Queen as her ancestor.
-This make Raven really unconfortable, she don’t know what answer to this all her life her lineage was paint to her as just being evil and now she was ina place where the Evil Queen was see as a hero. Honestly she don’t know how to process all this.
-This and she had some diseagrements with him about his obsession with beauty.
-As for Rook, well, he was nice with a charming but again: over-complimenting a bit annoying and in his case to the umpteenth power as if she suddenly become Apple.
-However she prefer not tell them about her disconfort ‘cause she’s scare to sound rude and offend them so she keep it to herself.
-At one moment, Epel took her aside to talk to her ‘cause he notice for a time that she seemed to be bothered by something.
-After he insisted, Raven finally explain to him what was wrong.
-After she said her piece about everything, Epel, rather shocked about what Raven gone through at her former school, was about to say something when they suddenly facing two shocked Vil and Rook who hear everything.
-Raven was about to say something only to be cut by Vil who say to her with a worried voice something like “You silly potatoe! Why didn’t you tell us a thing?”
-The four then got a long conversation during which they set the record stray:
1)She wasn’t in her former school anymore nobody is going to scold her for being who she want to be.
2)What her former headmaster and her former classmates tried to force her to do was wrong and she was in the right to stood up for herself.
3)She don’t had to be scared to tell what she think.
4)They’re her dormmates and by so if she had a problem or anything which is on her mind she can come see them for help.
5)”And please don’t be a stupid potatoe next time you feel like this and come to us to talk about it! Keeping all those negative emotions to yourself is not healthy at all!”
-Raven was surprised by hown this turned but she was also happy they didn’t reject her.
-After this conversation her relationship with her dormmates get better.
-The others classmates even noticed that Vil was strangely more and more invested into Raven’s well-being.
-Like for exemple, she show big problems of control of her magic? Vil go explain the situation to the headmaster in order for Raven to had tutoring with a experimented student to learn to control her magic.
-Or when some students surprised her singing and Cater even recorded her telling how good her singing is and that she should try the light music club? Vil made Rook fetch Raven(of course in a Rook style and by that I mean “take Raven by surprise and bring her to Vil while holding her like a bride”) and after discussing it with her he encourage her to join the light music club if she want.
-The others students joke that Vil act as a brother version of a mother hen even if Vil deny it. But one thing is clear in the students mind: whatever Vil is deny it or not Raven was now Vil’s honorary little sister.
C.A. Cupid at Pomefiore:
- Although she is still shaken about what happen with Apple at Ever After High, Cupid is intrigued by her new school, curious about the new possibilities to help people’s heart.
-She’s also very happy to see Raven once again and to be in the same dorm than her.
-When she learn that Pomefiore is based on the heavy efforts of the Beautiful Queen she though that that fit her perfectly, ‘cause after all the beauty of the heart is also an amazing thing and she put many great efforts in it.
-She barely get into Pomefiore that she begin to give advices to people who seemed to need it.
-Quickly words about her goes around the school and soon many others students came to see her for an advice.
-Face to all those students wanting her advices Cupid decided to re-create her radio show so like this students from NRC would be able to ask her for advices and got an direct answer.
-After talking about it to the headmaster Crowley and recruting some students she found the Night Raven College’s radio station.
-The radio got different show, Cupid’s is about love advice.
-In a matter of time the new school’s radio become very popular among the students.
Poppy O'Hair at Pomefiore:
-When she entered in the Night Raven College, Poppy was rather wary.
-She an undirect victim of Apple ‘cause she targered Holly accusing the girl to be too beautiful and to knew about the "Snow White” story too much to her taste.
-Because of this Poppy is very worried about Holly’s well-being, even after their transfer,  so when the sisters have been sorted in two different dorms she wasn’t at ease at all.
-Fortunatly Raven reassured her many times to not worry about Holly and that she will be fine at Octavinelle.
-She often go find her sister at lunch time to ensure herself that Holly was okay.
-To vent her stress Poppy begin to draw fashion designs more than usual to keep herself mentally busy.
-One day she looked at all the designs she created, she made so many of them, so many she want to make real.
-Unfortunatly the only way to make it possible would be through a club, but  there’s no fashion club in NRC.
-Then she think “if there’s no fashion club then why not creating one?”
-So with her new objective she gather all informations she need to create her club.
-She prepared all the documentation, found students, mainly from her dorm, who were interested to be members including Lizzie and Ashlynn.
-She then present her project to the teacher who she heard could be a potential teacher councelor for the club: Divus Crewel.
-When the teacher took a look at Poppy’s club project he become interested and told her he will present the project to the headmaster and will accept to be the councelor of this club if it approved.
-Some times later an hyperactive Divus Crewel burst in headmaster Crowley’s office while screaming “DIRE YOU NEED TO APPROVE FOR THE CREATION OF THIS CLUB RIGHT NOW!”
-And so the fashion club was officialy created
-The club took comissions from others students which with the money allow them then to create bigger projects.
-Even though Vil is not a member of the club he often model for them.
-He even post pictures of himself wearing the fashion club’s creations on his MagiCam giving the club a big exposure.
-Soon the fashion club become very popular and the school even turn to the club for making clothes for school events.
-Poppy even get commissions from celebrities.
TAG LIST :( a reblog will get you a place in the tag list! ^^)
@virgil-is-a-cutie​ , @zebrabaker​ , @icant-choosename-help​ , @twistedwonderlxnd​ , @cowardlybravette​ , @iwilldietomorrowyees​ , @balsae​ , @shinypainterkid​ , @biscuitbirdpeach​ , @feuilleszuyu​ , @pale-lady-dreamer​
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bitchin-beskar · 4 years ago
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The Internet is Forever Part 1
Fandom: The Old Guard
Rating: T (vague mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly described)
Word Count: 1.7k
A/N: Once more, y’all have The Gay Guard gc to thank for this lovely crack. It’ll be in three parts, with this one focusing on Joe and Nicky, Part 2 will focus on Andy and Quynh, and Part 3 will focus on Booker and Nile. I’ve never actually streamed or posted videos on YouTube, so I apologize for any inaccuracies, but... this is crack, so... you should kind of be expecting that at this point.
Tags: @the-chaotic-virgo, @hi-short-for-hello, @immortalwarriors, @the-killer-queenie, @roses-are-red713, @acolorandafeeling, @bookersebastien, @fetchmeabook, @ikilledtheducks, and @goalkeepernerd I blame every single one of you for this cursed fic. They all contributed to this AU so they ALL get credit for encouraging me to write this. 
Also @perropascal!!!
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my works!
Please consider liking and reblogging! I love the feedback!
You know the saying, “The internet is forever?” It’s true. It’s incredibly difficult to remove anything once it’s posted on the internet. That’s why Copley had been able to find all the evidence of Andy, Joe, Nicky, Booker, and Quynh from over the years. No matter how hard they’d tried to scrub their backgrounds, a few things always fell through the cracks. And now, in the twenty-first century, with technology growing at an unprecedented rate, it was harder than ever to stay off the internet. When the team had hired Copley to cover their tracks and find them jobs, he’d known he was going to have his work cut out for him. Unfortunately, he’d never expected… this. 
***
“Nile, can you come here for a moment, please?”
Nicky’s voice called out from the kitchen, and Nile got up from where she was perched on the couch, shutting her copy of Les Misérables–in the original French, mind you, Booker was trying to help her learn another language–and tucking it under her arm, walking down the hall and into the kitchen. She stopped, frowning in confusion as she took in the scene before her. 
Nicky was standing at the kitchen counter, a plate of baklava on the countertop in front of him. The rest of the kitchen was a mess, dirty bowls and measuring cups filled the sink, and ingredients covered the counter. He had a webcam set up in front of him, along with a laptop, and Nile could see that he was streaming. 
He looked up as she entered, smiling brightly. “Nile! Come, you must try this baklava!” He holds the plate out eagerly, and Nile steps forward cautiously, carefully taking one of the little squares. 
“Why? What are you doing?” Nile asks, suspicious, as she inspects the piece of baklava, not convinced that Nicky hasn’t done something to it.
Nicky looks at her, hurt. “I just want you to try my baklava. I’m teaching the internet the proper way to make it, and I want you to tell them how it tastes!” He gestures to the live webcam. “I need you to be honest, tell me how it tastes, even if it’s bad.”
She gives him the look. She’s never once eaten something made by Nicky that didn’t taste absolutely amazing. As long as this isn’t a prank, she’s not sure there’s any way his baklava won’t taste divine. She takes a bite, and nearly moans at the taste. The buttery texture of the dough is perfectly complemented by the taste of walnuts, hazelnuts, and pistachios, and there’s a hint of orange citrus that just brings everything together. 
“Well?”
Nicky’s looking at her, his eyes wide and expectant, waiting for her to give a review. “It’s amazing Nicky, seriously,” she says, grinning as Nicky beams at her. “It’s the best baklava I’ve ever had. Try some!” Nicky picks up his own piece, taking a big bite, but before he can say anything, a voice floats over from the doorway. 
“Yeah, but how much baklava have you had, really?”
Both Nicky and Nile turn to see Joe standing in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a playful smirk on his face. “I mean, if you’ve only ever tasted his cooking, you don’t really have anything to compare it to, do you?”
Nicky growled–seriously, growled–under his breath, and Nile looked between the two, confused. She was so used to seeing them acting like they were still in their honeymoon phase that seeing this other side of both of them threw her for a loop. She backed away from the couple, glancing at Nicky’s laptop, seeing that he was streaming to YouTube. She snorted when she read his channel name: BetterThanOliveGarden. She glanced at the live stream of comments and had to do a double-take. Based on what people were saying, apparently, Joe and Nicky had this online rivalry, and people kept debating their relationship, whether they were roommates, dating, or something else.
She watched as Nicky shoved the plate towards Joe. “How about you try my food before you critique it, Joe?” A sly smirk spread across Joe’s lips, and he took the plate, setting it down without taking any food off it. Instead, he strides forward, cupping Nicky’s face in his hands and kissing him deeply. Nile looks away awkwardly when Nicky moans, and she glances at the comments and sees that they’re going nuts.
People are screaming, keyboard mashing, and comments like: OHMYGOD WHAT, are popping up constantly. Nile grimaces at the webcam. She whispers to the camera, “You guys do know they’re married, right? They do this all. the. time.” She throws a thumb over her shoulder at the two men, still locked in an embrace. Joe has one hand clutching at Nicky’s hair and the other in the back pocket of his jeans, and Nicky’s got his arms thrown around Joe’s neck, both of them completely lost to the world. 
The comments are still blowing up, and Nile isn’t sure if she should actually end the video or not. She shrugs, deciding to leave it going. What’s the worst that could happen?
***
Well, apparently, Nicky and Joe forgot about the live stream. Nile only found out when she went to go and find the video, only to see that it had been taken down due to “violating YouTube content policies.” She asked Joe about it.
“Well, you see, apparently it’s frowned upon when two people decide to show their love for one another–” 
“You two started taking off each other’s clothes, didn’t you.”
“Yes. Yes, we did.”
“Please tell me the two of you left the kitchen before the pants came off?”
“Of course we did, we have enough self-control–” 
“Andy came in and yelled at the two of you that you were about to do it in front of a live audience, didn’t she.”
“Um, well… yes.”
***
Nicky’s retaliation happened later that week. Joe apparently ran an art tutorial channel, where he did sketches, showing people how to draw anything from animals, to the human body, to landscape, to architecture. His channel was called ScrewMichelangelo, which had confused Nile until Joe had explained the man refused to stop flirting with Nicky, so Joe hated him. Nile was skeptical, until Joe pulled up an image of the statue David, pointing out all the similarities between the marble statue and Nicky. 
Nile was shocked. She could see the resemblance and turned to Joe in shock. “Wait, Nicky posed for Michelangelo?” 
Joe grumbled, frowning deeply. “No. I accidentally left my sketchbook in his workshop one day, and there were some sketches of Nicky inside. He used those for his inspiration. When I found out I…” Joe looked sheepish. “I was very upset. Nicky keeping me calm was the only reason Michelangelo survived my wrath.”
Nile grimaced. “Yeah, I can see why you’d be pissed.” Joe nodded, and he began to set up the webcam. 
Joe had asked her to help him out, so Nile was once again in the video, this time posing for Joe so he could show people how to draw braids. She was still trying to get through Les Misérables–seriously, she hated french–and she’d lost track of time when she was startled by the door banging open. She looked up from her book, watching as Nicky strode determinedly into the room. 
“This,” he said, coming up behind Joe and laying his hands against the sides of Joe’s neck. “Is for ruining my baklava video.”
He tipped Joe’s head back, pressing his lips against Joe’s harshly. Nile had learned from the last time. She got up, shut off the webcam, and left the room, shaking her head when the men didn’t even react when she shut the door loudly.
“Stupid horny immortal husbands.”
***
It had been a quiet week, and Nile was suspicious. Nicky and Joe had each ruined multiple of the other’s videos with intense make-out sessions, and Nile was surprised that they both hadn’t had their accounts banned from YouTube. Neither of them had done anything this week though, so Nile was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 
When she woke up one morning to a YouTube notification from Joe’s account, she actually groaned. She wasn’t sure she wanted to watch what they’d gotten up to, but she figured she should probably check. 
Clicking on the video, she was surprised to see that she couldn’t actually see anything, because the video was pitch black. Suddenly, a soft light appeared, showing a shirtless Joe. He held a finger to his lips, giggling, before shining the light onto a sleeping Nicky next to him. 
“Nicolo, destati.” 
Nicky grumbled, trying to swat Joe’s camera away, but he missed. “Nicolo, habibi, destati.” Nicky groaned, rolling over and blinking up at Joe. 
“Yusuf, what time is it?”
“Three am, habibi.”
“Why Yusuf?”
Nile can hear Joe giggling. “I wanted to show everyone what I get to see every night for the rest of our lives.”
Nicky’s face softened, and he reached a hand up, pulling Joe’s face down and into the frame, and into a kiss. Joe managed to hold the camera steady, somehow. When he finally pulled away, Nicky grabbed one of Joe’s hands, tugging him down so that Joe is spooning him and his arm is wrapped tightly around Nicky.
“You’ve got your video, amore, now let’s sleep, please.”
Joe says something, but it’s muffled as he sets the camera down. The light turns off, and Nile thinks the video must be over, but when she checks, she realizes there are still hours of footage left. She fast forwards, and once the room starts to brighten, Nile realizes it must be morning. She sees as Nicky and Joe come into view, still spooning on the bed. She watches as Nicky wakes, and sees the camera still running before he reaches out to shut it off.
She shakes her head, shutting the phone off. Maybe now they’d stop ruining each other’s videos and she wouldn’t have to listen to their complaints anymore.
***
Well, Joe and Nicky had stopped bothering her. But Andy and Quynh were a whole other story.
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livinginfictions · 3 years ago
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Tag/Ask Game
This is a sort of Check-in Tag game thing? I was tagged by @vikingstrash, so thank you dear!
1. Why did you choose your url?
I used to have a different tumblr, and then my sister saw me on it and literally took the mouse and made me follow her own tumblr, and it made me So Immensely uncomfortable, I immediately went and made a whole new blog, and messaged all my mutuals privately to tell them I was moving so my sister wouldn't find out. As I struggled to come up with something more creative than 'time-lady," I remembered one of my mom's favorite sayings, "Reality sucks, live in fiction" and since livinginfiction was taken, my friend (who was helping with the crisis) and I added an 's.' Voila. Seven years later, it's the only username i have online. XD
2. Any side blog?
Three, actually. We've got @merthurismycrack where I reblog Merthur shit, @samspsychicpowers for some SPN stuff, and the side blog that's basically my main blog at this point: @asterekmess which is where all my Teen Wolf and Sterek stuff goes.
3. How long have you been on tumblr?
Uhhh, I've been on this blog since August of 2014, but my old blog was started in....March 2013. I've been around a fucking while.
4. Do you have a queue tag?
HA. Fuck no. Do I look that organized? Y'all get three hours of spam reblogs, and then I disappear into the aether. How it should be. XD
5. Why did you start your blog in the first place?
This is essentially the same as I said for question one. Sister found the old blog, and I needed a new one. I tend to make my side blogs for more pointed material, so that my main blog can have like...the amalgamation of general stuff i like, and then I can keep the fandomy content more concentrated into the side blogs.
6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp?
Originally, I did not have this icon. I had this pic I found online with these Beautiful bronze wings against a black background. But then, around the time I decided I wanted to sort of...simplify things and make my username for my online stuff all the same, with all the same pfp's so that I was easily recognized, etc, I realized that....that picture was not mine. I didn't design it or anything. And i couldn't find its source to ask for permission to use it. And it started making me feel shitty for using it in the first place. So I spent like an hour and a half trying to make my Own Wing pic to use, and failed miserably. As a last ditch effort, i went through my 'artistic' photos on my phone and found this one. I adore sky pics, and cloud pics, etc, so it was super my thing, and I just slapped it on there. Still not sick of it. XD I also went to my side blogs and changed out the pfp's for photos that I'd taken, except the sterek blog, because that one is literally just a black triskelion on a white background, and it's a pretty non-specific thing. I would have used a picture of my Own Tattoo, but it's very hard to get a picture of my back that doesn't have weird lighting, and I'm just too lazy.
7. Why did you choose your header?
All my headers are also photos that I've taken or art pieces that I've made. In the case of this blog, it's a picture I made with a 'galaxy maker' online thingy. I love green. I love blue. Ta dah. In general i just try to find something that gives me the right vibes or has the right color palette to match what it's for. (orange and blue for sterek, trees for merlin, and wings for spn)
8. What’s your post with the most notes?
On this blog? I.....just spent two hours digging through all my posts tagged 'personal' bc i wanted the post that I MADE with the most notes...and i have no idea. I mostly respond to other posts, rather than making my own. The highest note count i can find is a post i made abt having friends that aren't in your fandom, which means you can use inspirational quotes to help them through tough times without them realizing ur quoting doctor who or something. 22 notes. *fingerguns* I'm famous, i know.
9. How many mutuals do you have ?
Is...is that a thing i can check?? or do you expect me to hand count??
10. How many followers do you have right now?
Uhghhghghgh, this blog has 439 at the moment, and i'm pretty sure not a lot of those are porn bots, bc i usually screen new followers for it. a lot of them have come over from my sterek blog though.
11. How many people do you follow?
hehe....uh...36.....one of which is my husband....
12. Have you ever made a shitpost?
I don't even know what the requirements for something being a 'shitpost' are....but i think no?
EDIT: I Take it Back, I just found a post I made with "Hot Take: PIneapples are an honorary citrus fruit" and I believe that counts? So YES.
13. How often do you use tumblr?
Uh, nearly every day, multiple times a day. Sometimes i forget it exists for a couple days, though. It's my only social media. I dont use twitter or facebook or instagram. I Have Accounts, but I literally dont open those apps more than once a month.
14. Did you have a fight /argument with another  blog ? Who won?
My sterek blog gets in fights more often than it should. XD I'm feisty. And I dunno who wins, i think no one. it's tumblr. there's no real winning or losing.
15. How do feel about “ you need to reblog  this” post?
Oh 90% of the time I'll fucking ignore it on principle. I come to tumblr to enjoy myself and escape. I refuse to guilt the shit out of myself and my followers for not reblogging something deemed Essential. I don't care how deep the topic is or how heavy. Sometimes that's WHY I'm not reblogging it, because I don't want that shit on my blog. The other 10% of the time, I'll go to most recent reblog that Doesn't have the guilty shit on it, and then reblog that.
16. Do you like tag games?
It sounds narcissistic, but I like being tagged in them and doing them. I just Really Really Really hate tagging anyone else.
17. Do you like ask games?
Yup, I think they're fun, though I really don't think anyone wants to know this much about me.
18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?
Uhhh...I have no clue. I think...I think I might be the tumblr famous mutual, or at least my sterek blog is....
19. Do you have a crush on a mutual?
Yup. My husband.
20. Tagged?
Uh, no one. makes me anxious. XD If someone wants to do it, go ahead and claim i tagged you, i promise no one'll call ur bluff.
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thethoughtsfromthreeam · 4 years ago
Text
Monument Woman
Pairing: Marcus Pike x OC (Rosemary Carter)
Warnings: Talk of death and illness
A/N: I’ll be on vacation this week, but I’m hoping to post weekly - Thursdays as reblogs of the previous chapter, Fridays around 6pm EST new chapters, and Saturdays as next day reblogs.  And then posting when ever I so choose for one shots and drabbles.
Reminder: I ain’t ever seen Pedro Pascal in FUCK ALL, I’m just coming up with this as I go along, using imdb.com, wiki, and 84,000 tabs I got open to plan out this shit.  I also write soft versions of his characters so if you’re craving asshole vibes, I ain’t got any but my own to offer.
Tag List:
@zeldasayer​ , @beskars​ , @coolmaybelateruniverse​ , @the-feckless-wonder​ , @pascalisthepunkest​ , @mandoandyodito​ , @randomness501​ , @fioccodineveautunnale​  , @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ , @lilkermit14​ , @tortles [please message me to be added or subtracted]
Part 3 – The Clock is the Enemy
“What a beautiful day, Rosie.”  Robert’s smile was small, but evident. He laid back in the patio chair with a blanket around his shoulders.  The normally oppressive summer heat of August had been milder this year, but Robert was always cold now.  His shoulders hunched over under the heavy cotton fabric, as if the weight of the world were on them.
She looked over at him from inside the kitchen and smiled, glad that he was feeling more energetic today then he had been the last couple of weeks. She had taken him to the doctor this morning and the news was grim – mere weeks were probably left for Robert and her heart clenched as she realized she had to watch yet another person she loved slowly die in front of her.  Tears sprung in her eyes and she quickly looked away so he couldn’t see them.
She stood at the stove waiting for the coffee to finish, her hands tapping the side of the brightly decorated mug in front of her.  Since his confession months ago about his diagnosis, she spent as much time with him as she could, helping him as he got his affairs in order.  Last week, she moved in with him as his health took a turn for the worse and he struggled to care for himself.  He felt as if he should have told her no, but he was so grateful for her, he remained quiet on the subject.
When the foam had dissipated, she poured in the cognac and topped it off with a lemon slice – just the way Robert always took his coffee at home. She carried it out on to the porch and sat next to him.  He sipped the hot liquid and smiled.
“You know, my mother drank her coffee like this, too.”  He nodded at Rosemary’s inquisitive look.  He never talked about his family or his existence before Saugatuck, claiming his life here along the coast of Lake Michigan had enough memories to explore for a lifetime.
“I never heard of anyone drinking their coffee like that before I met you.”
“You don’t know a lot of Ukrainians, then.”  He smiled.  “She drank it with more cognac than is probably recommended, but she needed the pep in her step as she headed off to work.”
“What did she do?”
“She taught home ec at a local high school.”  He grinned as Rosemary started to laugh.
“Did she include the coffee recipe in her class?”
“No, but it would have probably helped!”
The two laughed again and soon it petered out to a comfortable silence. The trees waved slightly in the breeze and they could hear the kids down the road shouting and laughing.  The day was perfect and they both soaked it up knowing that these were numbered.
---***---
“Marcus!  I’m so glad you called!”  Hetty Pike’s smile was evident in her tone as she heard her only son’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hi, mom.”  He couldn’t help but grin every time he talked to his mother.  She was a bubbly woman who talked with her hands a lot. When he was a kid, she always held his face in her hands and told him that she loved him, her head shaking as if to reiterate what she said.  When he’d protested the action as a teenager, she told him she’d never stop because it was her duty to know he was always loved.  “Is dad around?”
“Abe!  Abe! Pick up!  Marcus is on the phone!”  He could hear her voice clearly even as she pulled away to call out to her husband.  Pike rolled his eyes with a small smile as he heard his father’s booming voice come over the line, drowning out his much softer mother, who said her good-byes while the two men talked.
“Son!  It’s been ages!  How goes the art thieving?”
“Not bad, dad.  I’m calling because I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
For the next hour, they chatted as Marcus sought out his dad’s advice on various aspects of the reopened cases.  The senior Pike had been an electrician before he retired and often provided advice to the agent on cases where he could, often becoming a sounding board as his son worked verbally through the case.
After walking through a few scenarios, Hetty got back on the line and the three talked about this and that for a while longer before Pike said his good-byes with promises to call more often and to try and come out for his sister’s 40th birthday party next month.
The energy of the phone call dissipated into nothing as Pike stood in his kitchen, the quiet house a stark contrast to the liveliness he grew up with. He became lost in thought as memories flitted through his brain – happy memories of his parents who were so deeply in love, every day was a chance to prove it to the other; of his sisters and him getting into numerous shenanigans that left them breathless with laughter; of his blue-collar father being proud of his son’s artistic talent and happily attending his shows.
Pike let himself smile a bit before pushing himself off the counter, pocketing his phone as he wandered down the hall into his studio.  He bought the small two-bedroom house in the outskirts of D.C. because its large windows let in tons of natural light, allowing him to set up an in-home studio to indulge his artistic appetite in.
Art had always been Marcus’ passion and something he had been good at since he was quite young.  He was proud that he could parlay that passion into a career.  He didn’t do anything professionally, instead choosing to let his talent serve as a distraction from the stress of real life. As he sat in front of the blank canvas, his hands rested in his lap, fiddling with the pencil.
By this time, his brain was creating a mash up of his memories and Carmichael’s words from some months ago.  He hadn’t been on a date since the last time he was stood up, but no matter how much he hardened his heart, he still yearned for someone to love, the kind that his parents had.  The kind he thought he had with his first wife, then Lisbon, then Eleanor and Carrie and Sumata.
It seems the only place he could express his heart freely and without pain was on the canvas.  He shook his head as he turned on his playlist and let himself get lost in the one place that he could be himself with no judgement.
---***---
Several Days Later
“Helen?”  The director looked up from her desk and looked startled at the pale woman standing in front of her.  She immediately rose and skirted the desk to take Rosemary in her arms, giving her a warm hug.  She felt the younger woman’s arms snake around her waist, and she continued to hold her as sudden sobs wracked the body pressed against her own.  They stood like that for many long minutes before Rosemary pulled away and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand.
The two women sat down in the office chairs and Helen took Rosemary’s hand again, noticing the slight tremors she failed to feel before.  She squeezed slightly and waited.
“Helen, I need to take some time off.  Robert is getting worse and I don’t want to leave him alone right now. I know I have vacation. . .” Helen cut her off.
“Take all the time you need.  I know this has been hard for you, don’t worry about us here.  We’re fine.  Marquetta can handle anything that comes in for you and I’ll take over the programs you are scheduled to work.  You need to focus on you and Robert.”  She didn’t say it, but the and your good-byes hung in the air between them.
“Okay.  Thank you.” Rosemary stood on shaky legs and they hugged again before she went to her office.  Despite the grief that hung around her neck like an albatross, she set her away message on her voicemail and email before packing a few things up for Banana.  The dog had gone with her to Robert’s and the mutt spent his days sleeping against Robert’s frail form, providing a steady stream of warmth and companionship when Rosemary was at work.
After looking around her neatened desk, she walked to her workshop and glanced around there.  She left a few notes for Marquetta on some projects that needed to be completed before walking over to her locked cabinet.  She pulled out her keys and opened it, glancing at the bronze sculpture housed inside.  She looked at it for a bit longer before closing the doors again.  It was still on her to-do list but it was going to have to wait; Helen knew it was there, but only Rosemary had access.  With the turn of her key, she left the museum to focus on the one person who needed her the most.
---***---
Three weeks later
The day was a sunny one, the sky a deep azure blue that spoke of the coming fall and as he laid in bed with the windows open, Robert took as deep a breath as his lungs would let him.  He loved Saugatuck in the fall – the leaves, the roadside stands that popped up as the harvest came to fruition, and he loved to decorate the store as Halloween grew closer.
He let himself get lost in the memories of the past for a moment before forcing himself to focus on the paperwork in front of him.  His lawyer had dropped off a new copy of his will and testament and Robert carefully read everything before signing it.  Even as he laid there dying, there was something about signing the will that created a finality to it all.
As he sealed the envelope and sent a text to the lawyer to come pick it up, he heard Rosemary enter the house.  He could smell food and for the first time in days, he felt his stomach grumble in hunger.  He began to push himself out of bed when Rosemary enter the room and frowned at him.
“Get back in bed.”  Her tone was firm, but gentle.
“I can get up; I’m not going to eat in my bed.”  Robert grumbled as she walked over and gently pressed him back into the pillows.  Rosemary was only a couple of inches shorter than his six-foot frame, but with his body becoming weaker, she seemed taller and stronger than she ever had before to him.
“You’re going to stay here.  I don’t need you falling like you did yesterday and scaring the bejesus out of me.”  Rosemary wandered back into the kitchen, pulling out the take-out boxes from Coral Gables.  She arranged everything on a tray and took it into the bedroom.  Just as she set everything down, a knock came at the door.  She walked back towards the front of the house, seeing a woman standing on the other side of the screen door.
“Fern!”  Rosemary was surprised to see her close friend on the porch, her voice rising in excitement.  They hugged and Fern made sure to squeeze her poor friend a little harder than usual. They broke apart.  “What are you doing here?”
“Robert is one of my clients.  I dropped off some paperwork for him earlier and he told me to come pick them up.  Sorry to interrupt dinner.”
“Never!  Come in, I bought more than enough, and he won’t eat that much.”  Rosemary’s voice dropped a little and she smiled slightly as a friendly hand rested on her wrist.  “Anyway, please stay and join us.”
Fern nodded and walked into the house towards the bedroom as Rosemary ran to get more plates and silverware.  When she entered the room, the two were in discussion, their voices low and serious.  The conversation stopped as she walked up to them and both smiled at her.
The three sat and ate, enjoying each other’s company and Rosemary noted that Robert ate more than he usually did, which made her feel better. Fern stayed long after dinner was over and as Robert dozed off, the two women continued to visit, but moved the conversation into the living room.  
They had been friends for several years, meeting after bumping into each other at Robert’s store.  Soon their duo became a quartet as local banker Amy met them at a local charity event and Rosemary’s old college friend Tina joined them as she set up her vet practice in Douglas, just south of the town.  The three women had been worried about Rosemary for weeks, visiting where they could and keeping a lively group text going.
When she realized it was midnight, Fern took her leave and Rosemary cleaned up the kitchen.  She walked into Robert’s bedroom to check on him.  He woke up when he heard her and smiled.  She touched his shoulder and sat in the chair next to his bed, the place she spent the most time in these days.
“I’m sorry I woke you.  How are you feeling?”  He reached out to pat her hand and she held it as tight as she dared.  He was so pale, as if he were fading away from her in front of her very eyes.
“Like death warmed over.”  The chuckle sounded strained as his breathing continued to be hard for him.  “Rosie, I never said it, but I’m glad you’re here.”
“I always make time for you, Robert.  You know that.”
“And dinner is always Coral Gables.”
“Exactly.  Tradition.”
“Tradition.”  Robert coughed hard and heavy.  He took the tissue she handed to him and wiped the spittle from his mouth.  “A good historian loves tradition.”
“And the story it tells.”  She sat back and watched him.  He suddenly looked at her, as if he were seeing her for the first time.
“Rosie, are you happy?”  She looked at him, surprise on her face.  “I mean in general.  I’ve never seen you date anyone long term, you hardly go on vacation.  You work a lot.  Are you happy?”
“I guess?  I don’t know. I love my work, I have the girls, I have you.  And yeah, sure I could do with more vacation time, but who doesn’t?”  She looked away, focusing on the window, although it was too dark to see. “Dating is. . .  It’s not easy and most men don’t seem to appreciate my odd hours.  Or I’m too tall.  Or I’m too loud.  And I’d rather be single and happy than in a relationship and miserable.”
“That’s fair.”  He smiled. “What happened to that doctor in Kalamazoo?”
“Him?”  She wrinkled her nose.  “God, he was a massive asshole.  Ego the size of the Grand Canyon.  I went on two dates with him and had enough.”
Robert laugh slightly before sighing.
“I just worry about you Rose.  I don’t want you to be alone when I’m gone.  I want you to live a happy life, full of love that you deserve.  Promise me that you’ll make time for that.”
“I promise, Robert.”  She smiled as his eyes drooped closed, his soft snores starting almost immediately. She set back in the chair, propping her feet up on the edge of the bed to watch him until sleep came to claim her.
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gayregis · 5 years ago
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Thanks for reblogging so much that criticizes the netflix show man. Whenever I go into the tags everybodys just saying how good the show was and how good of a character Geralt was and I'm just wondering if Im in the wrong dimension or watched a different show
oh hell yea ofc im gonna criticize this. on r/netflixwitcher they’re keen to bad people who rightfully criticize the show, and that’s bullshit imo. as long as the criticisms aren’t anything 1) caused by gamer brain rot (i.e., “why doesn’t geralt have two swords on his back,” “why doesn’t geralt have a beard,” “why is the witcher medallion a coin”), or 2) stupidly racist (”why are the dryads black?” “why isn’t yennefer pale?”), or 3) stupidly misogynistic (”they made it “feminist,” fuck that”) then im all for it.
i really feel like the book fans got snubbed with this show because they explicitly advertised it as being based off of the books and assured book fans that the cast and showrunner had read the books and respected them, and then didn’t follow through on trying to make them accurate to the original texts at all. i’m not a purist, i’m okay with interpretation and editing things in to fit time or adding in an explanation or two or cutting superfluous dialogue/lore explanations that aren’t necessary, but they changed so much by cutting a lot of things out and adding unnecessary things in that it changed the essentials of the four main characters (and also quite a few side characters, like cahir and fringilla).
geralt is kind, patient, and dislikes violence and is very intelligent, eloquent, and conversational, and protective of the vulnerable and his loved ones, and the reason he scorned his link to ciri was because he didn’t want to introduce her to his violent life, not because he just hated the idea of having a kid. 
jaskier is intelligent and talented and is a true master of his art. and geralt enjoys and appreciates his company and wants to have him around and protects him, etc, etc. jaskier is only considered “annoying” at times because he’s talkative and tells geralt truths about himself that he doesn’t want to face, and also because he has quirks like wanting to write and say reports in verse (to djikstra’s frustration). he’s also a little more of a scoundrel, and he’s a great flirt who easily gets women (unfortunately, because he soon drops them).
yennefer does not scorn aretuza, nor should we immediately feel pity for her due to her backstory b/c she’s so much more than that, nor was she the hero of sodden. she’s much more noble and isn’t an ungrateful brat who now hosts orgies just because she can, and fuck tissaia amiright. she also never gave her reproductive system up as a choice (she’s just infertile, her ovaries don’t function because she is a sorceress (visenna was a biological outlier), she didn’t get her ENTIRE WOMB taken out just so she could get magical plastic surgery). her goal to be a mother is something more innate in her i think, something that comes from wanting to also protect the vulnerable.
ciri is a little more spoiled (but they cut out the sword of destiny so this isn’t freya’s fault). i didn’t have much qualm about her because she just simply didn’t get a chance to show the viewers who she is.
calanthe is the lioness, true, but she isn’t a brute nor is she a genocidal maniac (also how would filavandrel EVER get to cintra if he lives in the mountains .). shes a refined and menacing powerful ruler who commands dignity and respect, not just someone who stirs up violence and wanders in bloody off the battlefield. also i dont remember her being so horny for her husband.
eithné uh..... isn’t that warm and nice. no offense. she does what she has to to protect the sovergnity of brokilon, so she must uphold her standards. but in the books she really was going to just make ciri a dryad and take her from geralt. also the dryads kill people of all ages so they would have killed dara (why did they only shoot his shoulder? not that i would wish for him to die, but dryads WOULD kill him).
foltest is gross but he’s not stupid like that. i think he knows what he did. also he was described as pretty in the books (unfortunately)
borch/villentretenmerth is called the most beautiful for a reason... im really not trying to critique the appearance of the actors, because acting is more important than appearances, but for borch it matters because that’s literally his title. he doesn’t wear a tunic that looks like dragonhide (painfully obvious), and he is a little more enigmatic and charming. 
cahir isn’t a nationalist freak committed to his job and he was only in the military due to familial and societal pressure and also because if he didn’t serve emhyr, he would be thrown in prison (which happens later when he fails and insults emhyr and condemns him for chasing little girls). he’s a young man caught up in the mess of society and is now in the snares of destiny. 
dopplers literally cannot be evil. also they use singular person pronouns to refer to themselves.
fringilla doesn’t practice the dark arts and isn’t a solely evil character and the secret power behind the nilfgaardian throne. she does do evil things but isn’t ruled by it, she took yennefer’s eyes out of her skull, later saved her, and then fucked her husband and hated on/argued with his friends. the woman is a bag of mixed nuts, but she isn’t straight-up evil and she doesn’t perform human sacrifice.
vilgefortz isn’t a weak baby and doesn’t get tired after casting a few spells (okay, there was ONE time when he got tired after casting a single spell. but it was, to be fair...... a pretty dramatic spell.... it was uh... too hot for him to handle, perhaps?, heh... heh..........heh..... im so sorry regis please forgive me i love you). also wasn’t he the hero of sodden and that’s why he was so important and had so much clout in the brotherhood?
no development at all for any of the characters in edge of the world, including nettly, torque, filavandrel, toruviel and the rest of the elves, and lille and the old woman weren’t even fucking IN IT!
EELS??????????
did i forget someone. i must have. but here are some thoughts
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mirclealignr · 4 years ago
Text
Home?
(Perspective of cecilia)
My Novel - Chapter 2
Any and all feed back welcome <3
A/N: I’d love to know what you think (theories and feedback) about this and whether I should continue with it <3 likes, comments or reblogs or anything really are super appreciated 🤍
Word Count: 1899
My train arrived in the city at around midday. I wasn’t hungry, I’d eaten a little on the journey. And besides, I was so nervous to see Daisy and Albert again that I couldn’t have eaten anything. I barely ate what I bought for myself. I had half of my sandwich and picked at the crisps, the remnants of which were on the seat next to me which hadn’t been booked. I was glad for that, I was very fidgety, and anyone next to me would have become very frustrated with me. After everyone in my coach had stood up and retrieved their luggage, I too did the same. I collected my sandwich and crisps and put them neatly into my bag, careful not to spill any of it. I stood up and walked to the end of the carriage and pulled my two suitcases from the second shelf of the rack. I rolled each of them to the door and set them down on the platform in front of me before stepping onto it myself.
I looked around for Daisy and Albert but I couldn’t find them. No doubt they had managed to get themselves lost. They were both terrible with directions. Nearly five years ago when they were taking me to the train station instead of away from it, we got so lost that I nearly missed my train. I walked to one of the benches lined upon the platform and sat down, pulling my possessions close into me.
I turn to look at the clock, ten minutes has gone by. Perhaps they got the time wrong. I reach into my bag, and pull out my book. I attempt to read it, but none of the words are going in. I’m so nervous. I glance up from my book and see a woman, frantically looking around on the platform. She has shoulder length, golden brown hair, and it’s swaying behind her as she moves. She’s wearing a wonderful dress, it’s vintage, yellow, with a brown belt wrapped around her waist, and a blue denim jacket about her shoulders. It’s Daisy.
I stand up, anxious at what she might think of me. When I was younger, and living with her, my hair was very long and a dark brown, almost black. I had very pale skin and I was very skinny. Now, I had very short, light brown hair. Where I lived in Germany was always very sunny, so I was naturally tanned. I had grown into myself, my hips had broadened and I wasn’t so skinny anymore. I was slender, I had a fit physique. I was wearing a corduroy pink skirt with tights and a white Tee-shirt underneath my oversized leather jacket. We locked eyes, she saw me. She knew it was me. I looked a lot like her now. I looked a lot like my mother.
She rushed over to me, and crashed into my body, wrapping her arms around me. Oh how I have missed daisy. Her embrace was so intense, I thought I might cry, but I held it in. She was crying. She pulled away and took a good long look at me.
“You look so beautiful. You look exactly like your mother,” she says, tears in her eyes.
“Thank you. You look wonderful as well, you haven’t changed,” I say. I’m glad she hasn't changed. She’s still my Daisy. The Daisy I always remembered.
She doesn’t know what to say, I can see it. I don’t know what to do either. But it doesn’t last long, Albert comes running in after her and as soon as he sees me, his eyes widen. He walks over to me, he’s not running but he’s walking at a pace. He stops in front of me and takes me in, and then leans forward with his arms out. I lean into his embrace. Albert has been Daisy’s partner since she was nineteen. They married shortly after I turned eleven, putting them at twenty-one. And here we all are, nearly six years later.
“Hello Albert,” I say, smiling.
“Hello, Cecilia. You look great,” he says to me, patting my shoulder. I nod my head. Daisy begins to babble, all about my old room, the house, the village. I love her voice, I love hearing her talk. I almost forgot how it sounded. The voice in her letters gradually faded into my own. I’ve missed Daisy.
I don’t look out the window much in the car journey. I want to see it all for myself when I walk. I walk a lot, it’s one of my favourite things to do. The scenery in Germany where I lived was wonderful, but it held no memories for me. Walking here, back home, that would be different. Daisy asked me lots of questions about how I had been, what Germany was like and all sorts of extras. I had talked about a lot of it in my letters but I knew it wasn’t the same. So I answered them all. When we arrive at the house, I step out of the car and look at it. It’s the same. Made from stone, it stands tall and proud, the large windows allowing you to see into the wonderful interior. The garden was lovely as well, Daisy must have kept it up. It was a wild garden, tamed to her liking. There were dozens of buttercups and forget-me-nots and little bluebells. It was quite a sight to see. Towards the back she was growing three sunflowers. I always remembered telling her that I wanted sunflowers. I suppose she eventually got around to it. The bay windows were lined with fairy lights and the shutters had been repainted a lovely pale green. My bedroom was in the back of the house, so I couldn’t see whether any of it looked the same. I’m sure it did.
Albert took my suitcases from the back of the car.
“Bloody hell, what have you got in here?” He says, straining to lift them up.
“About the last five years of my life. I couldn’t leave anything behind,” I say. Daisy rushes over in front of me to unlock the door. She opens it and beckons me in. I was right, nothing had changed. It was still all very modern looking. All very sleek. There were photos and paintings on the wall in the landing and the living room. The cream sofa had been kept very clean over the years, as well as their cream chair. The kitchen was bigger than I remembered. The countertops matched the sofas, but the cupboards were a dark brown, contrasting very nicely.
“Are you hungry? No I suppose not. Would you like to see your room? Well I mean nothing has changed,” she gushes.
“Yes, actually I’d love to see my room,” I say. I can remember it as clear as day, but that’s not the same as seeing it. She leads me up the stairs, the wall beside them is filled with photos of her and Albert, me and her friends. And my mother and father. I hesitate next to their photo, but quickly regain my composure and continue up the stairs behind Daisy. She opens the door to my room and waits in the landing.
“I’ll leave you alone for a while, Albert will bring you your things,” she says smiling, and leaves. Just like that. I would imagine that she doesn’t know how to talk to me anymore. Talking to an eleven year old is very different to talking to someone who is nearly seventeen. I’ll admit, I’m not sure how to talk to her either. So, we don’t.
I look at my room. The walls are painted white and filled with posters, art and photos from my eleven year old life. The bed is barely two feet from the ground. I sit on it and it creeks under my body weight. I think a new one is in order. I gaze at my room, all the stickers on the furniture, all the childish books scattered across the room and and on the white bookcase. The little TV with a curved screen. I was not getting rid of that, it looked amazing. My vanity desk, made to look vintage. That would stay too.
Though it was my first day here, and I had only been back in the country a few hours, (including the train journeys) I wanted to clear it out and make it new. I wouldn’t be able to sleep with all these memories starring me in the face and suffocating me. It had to go. I start by ripping the posters of Olly Murs and JLS off of the walls. I hadn’t listened to them in a long time. I much preferred older music, or very unpopular modern music that no one had heard of. The wall stickers had to go too, and all the old art. I leave the pictures of me and my family up, they were staying exactly where they were. I walk up to a chest of drawers and open it. It’s full of all my old clothes. I pick out a few items I want to keep for sentimental reasons, and put the rest of them in a pile. A charity shop could make very good use of them. I walk over to the vanity and get rid of some of the brick-o-brack I had on top of it. In the drawer were old brushes and combs and hair ties. They would probably all go, I had all of that in my suitcase. I gather all my books and go through them. I decide to keep the Harry Potter series and The Lord Of The Rings. The rest would go. I should probably get The Hobbit as well, I’ve never read it.
I’d managed to keep much of my feelings in check since I arrived back at the house. But all that came crumbling down. I sit on my bed looking at old photos of me and my friends. Tears are streaming down my face, remembering them, remembering us and how happy we were. Who would’ve known that it would all come to end, and so soon after many of these photos were taken. There’s one picture of all of us down by the river that we used to go to all the time. It’s heartbreaking. There we all are, Alex, me, David, Evan and Bailey. I run my fingers across the print and linger on the figure of David. Poor poor David.
It was the summer of 2015 when David died. It was right before his twelfth birthday. They said he’d ‘had an accident’, and fallen into the river, banged his head and drowned. But we never went to the river alone. We never did that. We agreed never to do that, it was our place. We would never go alone, especially at night. And we were eleven, the thought of going to the river alone at night scared the living daylights out of us. We tried one summer to sneak out and go, but we got too scared and ended up turning around. We were all grounded for nearly a month. He would never have gone alone. They said the time of death was around midnight. He definitely wasn’t alone.
I wanted to go back. I wanted to see it.
Tag list: @chaotic-fae-queen @teenagereadersciencenerd @reallyreading
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shadowofthelamp · 5 years ago
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Fandom Trades: Tips and Tricks
I’ve been running a secret santa for five years now, and a few people expressed interest in a sort of ‘guide’. It does take some elbow grease to get things up and running, but it’s very rewarding and gets easier as you go. Click the ‘read more’ for some stuff I’ve picked up over the years! It’s a bit general to try and cover anything, but if you have any questions, you can ask! (And if you’ve run one yourself, feel free to add on!)
FAQ: Something that’s a really good idea to have. Here’s the most important stuff on it that would probably be applicable to most trades:
-Basic summary of what the trade will be- some could be fic-only or art-only, or even specific-ship-only. Mine’s general to ‘all sonic sfw content’, but setting guidelines so people know what they’re getting into is a good idea so you won’t have to answer the same question over and over.
-Deadlines. Make them clear. Mine’s easy (Christmas Eve) but depending on what size the gift is expected to be, the time frame can be adjusted. 
-Related, set up rules for if people need to drop out. It happens, so be prepared. (This is why I ask now if people are alright giving a second gift.)
-Any particular rules for your trade- is it sfw or is nsfw acceptable? (In that case, set age limits.) Are there ships that will or won’t be allowed? Is there a punishment for violating the rules or turning things in late, like not being allowed to participate in the trade again?
PROMOTION:
A promo image is a good idea! I’ve been using the same one for a few years that was put together by a friend no longer on tumblr, but images catch people’s eyes faster than a text dump. Make something that’s easy to understand but gets the point across, and the text below should have enough information without overwhelming the casual scroller. 
Space paragraphs often to make it less intimidating. Include links to the FAQ, the sample entry, and the submit box right in the post, as well as a way to contact you- you want things to be as easy as possible for anyone interested. Here’s my promo post.
You also want to start promotion early- I start posting and reblogging my promo a full month before the entry deadline, to give as many people the chance to see it as possible. Any earlier, and they might not care- (who wants to see a Christmas trade post in October when you’re hyped for Halloween?) and any later and you might not get as many participants as you could have. A month-ish is a good time frame. (I also have a tag for the promo post, so people can blacklist it if they aren’t interested and don’t want to see it 15 times.)
SAMPLE ENTRIES:
Also something that’s good to have. Having a template for what you want entries to look like will make sorting easier for you. Here’s mine. It’s a good idea to scout around for other trades to find out what would work for you.
MAKING ASSIGNMENTS:
Next, setting up how to arrange who gets assigned to who. I personally use google spreadsheets. These are the categories I use, feel free to steal them: Username, medium (art, writing, amvs, ect), whether they’ll work with fan characters, what they’d like to receive, what they won’t do (one year I even added ‘if there’s anyone you won’t work with’ so if it’s a fandom with drama, that one might be good), who they’re gifting to, who they’re receiving from, if they’ve submitted their piece yet, if their piece is in the queue, and if they’re alright with doing backup.
I also had a category for if they’ve confirmed they’re still in once assignments were sent out. (Boy, was that one nerve-wracking during the whole tumblr purge debacle of last year- I didn’t know if anybody had just quit tumblr mid-month.)
You will run into people who only want two or three things nobody else wrote on their sheet. If you can’t find even one match, then just put them with someone who had a wide variety on theirs, or who doesn’t have anything on their ‘won’t do’ list. Trying to match with multiple likes is a better bet, though, so encouraging longer lists of what people want makes things easier for you in the long run!
I personally just went in a line- I picked one person, found who they would give a gift to, and then found who THAT person would give a gift to. Rinse and repeat down the list, and it’ll end with everyone paired. I ended up making a closed loop and then sorting the last 8 or so, which was fine. An easy way to check that you didn’t double-classify anyone is control-f and searching names. If their name pops up 3 times, you did it right.
SENDING OUT ASSIGNMENTS:
Just copy-pasting the part of the entry that includes the person’s name and their likes makes this way easier for you over trying to type them out individually. Ask for confirmation that people got their assignments so you don’t have to worry if they missed it.
HOW TO KEEP THINGS ORGANIZED:
My system is this: I’ve mentioned it before, but I utilize a combination of my spreadsheet and the queue function. Let’s say Sally’s making a gift for Jake, Jake’s making a gift for Taylor, and Taylor’s making a gift for Sally. Sally submits her piece of art for Jake. I mark that off on the sheet, so when Taylor submits the gift for Sally, that gift will go in the queue to be posted whenever the deadline is up because she turned hers in already.
This keeps people motivated to complete their parts of the trade, since they won’t get their gifts until they do. If someone drops out, tell the person making the gift for them- if you’re lucky, they can rework what they have for the person that the drop-out was supposed to make something for, but if not, bring in someone who didn’t mind making a second gift. Person making the gift for the dropout can choose if they want to continue making it or not- if it’s mostly done and not a fan-character, they can just post it on their own blog unrelated to the trade. 
It’s also a good idea to have a ‘hub’ where things are posted. If it’s a fic trade, ao3 has a function specifically for this, but I’ve found having things submitted directly to you makes it a million times easier to keep track of who’s finished their pieces, as well as keeping things ‘secret’ until the big day. (People have gotten confused or excited and posted early before.)
If people want to post elsewhere after it’s posted on the main hub, set your own rules- I say it’s fine as long as it links back to the blog and links the giftee, particularly if it involves fancharacters. You make your own judgement.  
BE PATIENT:
This is one that’s very important. Some people don’t check the FAQ, and some people are going to be new, asking questions that you swear you’ve answered before or thought would be obvious. They generally just want to know, so take a deep breath. They don’t know they’re the fifth person to ask that question. Answer politely, or steer them towards the FAQ. (Running the same event year after year, you run into this a lot- they’re just new, be nice!)
Don’t start an event that you expect to have plenty of people participating if you aren’t prepared to hear the same questions a couple of times. Things might get a little annoying- take a step back for a few minutes, cool off, but try to remain professional. You signed up for this. For me, it’s always worth it to see how happy people are about their gifts, but know yourself and your limits- running a themed week where people post art at their own pace is less hassle, so you could try that if you don’t feel up to organizing a full trade! 
If you can have a friend to bounce things off of, that can help too, but don’t use them as just a dumping ground. Tumblr allows multiple ‘mods’ on a blogs, so splitting work can make things easier, particularly if it’s your first run doing something like this. I had a friend who helped me the first few years before leaving tumblr. Be sure you trust the person, though! They’ll be able to edit posts and delete submissions, so if any drama happens, beware. (This never happened to me, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful.)
TAGGING:
Add tags to the submission box. I don’t know why this took me four years to think of, but it saved me a lot of time last year. If it’s a trade that covers an entire fandom and dozens of ships, you can add the shipping tags as they come in, but adding the ten or so most popular character tags helps a lot. If it’s going to involve potentially triggering content, common trigger tags are a good idea too. (A Halloween trade might need this, for example, or one that involves nsfw content.)
PEOPLE TURNING THINGS IN LAST MINUTE:
It’s going to happen. I think one year I was panicking on the 23rd because I only had half the gifts, and all but one had been turned in by the time I went to bed on the 24th. People procrastinate- if you get in most of the gifts ahead of time, you can thank your lucky stars. Try not to stress over it, but feel free to post reminders in the week before/days leading up to the deadline. My family travels around the holidays a lot, and I managed to get everything queued up properly through airport and hotel wifi more than one year, so you’ll be just fine if you try and stay calm.
OTHER/GENERAL:
It’s absolutely worth it, in my opinion- I’ve been doing this for years for a reason. My favorite thing is knowing I’ve done something that made others happy. Going through all the excited responses Christmas morning is equal or above getting presents from my family, because I know it’s on some level because of me facilitating the trade in the first place. I hear over and over this is something people look forward to, and it genuinely warms my heart. 
It might take a few years to get established, but if you find a niche (there was a blog called sonic secret santa, but it hadn’t been updated in years) you might be surprised how fast you can gather people! I like seeing people show up year after year, it’s how I know I’m doing something right.
It is definitely work, and there is stress involved, (especially if people drop out or don’t send in their gifts on time) but the benefits outweigh the negatives, I say. People are generally understanding if there’s a problem, as long as you make it known you’re working on it.
You have to commit to the responsibility if you do this- people who are making gifts are putting their trust in you that you’ll keep things organized and they’ll get something for the gift they’re giving. You can’t guarantee everything will run exactly as planned, but you can be as transparent as possible when you hit a bump- ‘I’m sorry, but your person said they’ll be late because they were having internet problems/personal life issues and is doing their best’ is going to get a lot better of a response than radio silence. Be sympathetic, but be firm on the rules if need be.
I hope this helped a bit, and thanks for reading!
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coolxnxblue · 5 years ago
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de rules:
1. Themes might very with this blog. It’ll typically be SFW, but there will likely be dark themes, violence and swearing.
Things will be tagged! I’ll try my best, anyways. If you want something in particular tagged, please let me know through ask / anon / im. The format I use for tagging is, for example, tw: swearing.
I don’t have any triggers but I do ask you tag all of your NSFW content.
That said, I won’t do anything NSFW - gore is okay, though.
I’m of age.
2. I’m private, meaning I only really roleplay with people I follow. This is so things don’t get too overwhelming and for me and to cement who I want to interact with. I generally follow most people if our writing clicks, though.
If I don’t follow you and you’d like me to check out your blog, lurk in my notifs. I’ll definitely see you and make note to check you out. Same with promos, or you can just rb them to a sideblog / send an ask with its url. I can’t gurantee I’ll follow, but I’ll certainly check it out!
If it’s a crossover, I have to know the fandom and be at least a little bit confident with it. This is so I’m able to work with you, our thread and have muse for it. You’re free to ask if I know of a fandom or not! I’ll have a list at some point.
I follow the tag #coolxnxblue. If there’s anything you want me to see, like dash commentary, just tag that and x-kit will alert me of your post! I may respond to ic stuff ic stuff if I’m feeling it. 
In that sense, I’m chill with dash shenanigans with most folk, not just mutuals!
Absolutely no godmodding. It ain’t fun, fam. If you’re not sure what this term means, do look it up. This includes powerplaying, metagaming, and other things of that nature. This applies especially in fights if they happen (I’m chance-based and hope that you are too).
I can be picky with OCs. But rest assured, if you’ve followed me/interacted with my promo, I’ll always give your pages a read.
Please don’t be offended if I don’t want to interact with you (and please don’t try to guilt me into doing so!).
As for following back, I usually take a week tops to do so - but if you’ve hit up my promo, I go through that eventually.
I DON’T CARE ABOUT AESTHETICS. I just think they’re pretty. If you don’t use formatting or anything like that, or heck - even wanna’ just do iconless rp - I have no problem with it whatsoever! It’s you, your writing and your muse I care about!
3. Please don’t rush me for starters or responses.
PLEASE understand that I have blogs galore and my muse tends to fluctuate; this can mean I’m everywhere at once and can end up neglecting a blog or two. It’s nothing personal; you know how muses are! Additionally, life happens to be a thing.
Please note the mun deals with anxiety and depression, and has part time jobs which are honestly tiring - this might affect how frequently she roleplays.
Chances are, I’ve probably has seen that bit of interactivity and just haven’t gotten around to responding yet.
My roleplaying style being para/multi-para, I may take a while to respond. I hoard drafts like a dragon - it’s really just the motivation to write and ship those out.
I hoard asks, but sometimes can’t find muse or interest for all of them. If it’s been a month or two, generally assume I’m not interested / can’t find muse for it. You’re free to send another though!
I answer asks from anyone - personals, rp blogs and anons. I’ll answer non-mutual asks occaisonally but I won’t be making threads out of them
4. Shippings? Heck yeah, I ship lots with my blue son! Just make sure they’re of similar age pls.
If I don’t happen to be interested, don’t force anything on my character.
I do not ship incestuous ships. Do NOT follow/interact if you do.
The ship has to have chemistry; I’m generally shipping trash, but if they don’t click, they don’t click, sorry.
This is a multi-ship blog, meaning there will be more than one ship without them conflicting with eachother.
If you want to ship and I already have a ship of your choosing going with a duplicate, please don’t hesitate to hmu! My ships aren’t exclusive and each character/relationship portrayal is unique to me!
Relationships are eternal until you deem otherwise. If you’re not interested in a ship anymore, just let me know!
Sonic X Tails won’t be happening on this blog, sorry.
5. Whilst I am of age, I’m not aiming for sexual content on this blog (and will not be dealing with fetishes). That stuff makes me uncomfortable, and I typically don’t recommend pulling it with my character if you’re interacting with me. Nonetheless, should it arise, I will tag it appropriately as nsfw //.
6. About reblogs…
I am not a meme source, and reblogs clog up my activity. Please reblog any ask / starter memes you find on this blog from their SOURCE. The exception to this rule is if there is no source; go ahead.
I don’t feel comfortable with Personals reblogging my IC or OOC posts, so please don’t do that. If I put something in the fandom tags for whatever reason (bar promos), you’re free to, though.
This goes for my art too unless it has the tag ok to rb, but otherwise only the person I drew it for can reblog it. If you wanna’ reblog something, I DO put it on my art blog eventually!
A few times is fine, as it happens, but repeatedly breaking these rules will result in me soft blocking you.
I try to participate in reblog karma as much as I can, but always reblog from the source/a meme source.
If a post or ask is for you, you’re free to reblog it to save it though - but only if you’re an rp blog!
7. I’m a para / multi-para blog, novella if I’m adventurous and have time. Whilst I may roleplay crack threads with shorter responses, this does not apply to all threads I write. This means:
I write my replies as detailed as I can muster, and length can range from 1 paragraph to 6.
Short responses (such as one-liners) in more serious threads where I’ve written a decent deal can instantly kill my muse for that thread.
Whilst I’d prefer for partners to at least somewhat match my length, it’s entirely up to you - just try your best and make sure you give me enough to work with. ♡
If my muse happen to go nuts out of nowhere - like, overboard - don’t stress too much about matching him.
8. Threads! You can yeet asks, memes, and even starters at me if I’ve liked a call! I’ll obviously have my own you can like.
You’re free to like starter calls even if we’re not mutuals; I can check out your blog that way. I still only write starters for mutuals though.
I know pretty much most if not all Sonic media, bar Fleetway which I haven’t gotten around to reading yet. Since that’s unfamiliar territory, I’m unlikely to tread in it yet.
Starter memes are the BEST way to interact me because they just yeet a prompt at my face and really help me write starters. If you see me reblog one, send one!
If you want a certain verse, lemme’ know! Otherwise, I’ll either resort to game verse or whatever continuity your muse applies to (i.e, Sally (archie), Starline (idw), and so forth).
If you want to turn an ask into a thread, go ahead!
In that sense, I don’t recommend writing starters for me unless we’ve discussed something. I don’t like to leave anyone hanging.
Please don’t assume things about my muse. If you’re uncertain about things, ASK.
IMs are open to mutuals, if you want to do any in-depth plotting. I also have Discord if that’s more convenient for you!
9. Guidelines on mains and relationships:
If we’re mutuals and we interact a lot, you’re welcome to ask me if I’d like to be your main!
Please don’t be offended if I deny, though; I typically want to pick those I trust to be my mains as well as people I can comfortably write with.
Not limited to them! I roleplay with duplicates galore so don’t be afraid to hit me up if you want to interact!
Pre-established relationships are a-okay in my book; if you have an idea for a relationship between our muses we can work towards, hit me up! I reblog those pre-established relationship memes every so often too. Romantic relationships link back to the shipping guidelines.
Also, friendship/family/rivalry relationships are EXTREMELY valid to me - so don’t feel scared about asking for them!
10. If you have any issues, please let me know and hopefully we can resolve it!
Mun is actually super nice, so don’t be afraid to hit her up!
I am absolutely terrible with IMs and Discord. I either respond quickly or days later, depends on my mood. Social anxiety tends to interfere with this (and more recently exhaustion from work) - but honestly, if you’ve sent something, I’ve likely read it and just haven’t gotten around to it yet! It’s nothing personal; trust me!
Please leave me out of drama; I’m here to have a good time, as is everyone else, and it pains me to see people arguing.
This is a little different with callouts - if I see anything on dash pertaining to any problematic users, I will take it into consideration and rb it if I believe them to be harmful.
11. To retierate, I tend to follow those that:
Write para and whom I feel my muse would click with.
Seem chill? Tone can really intimidate me honestly.
Have rules and about pages! Knowing the boudaries of my rp partners is super important as well as their lovely muses! Sometimes rules are enough, though, if you’re going to write the about eventually.
Tag their nsfw.
Don’t have massive icons - ie, have rp icons that take up an entire text post like 500x500 or something. I don’t want to clog the dash and it’s tiring to resize them.
...also, if I follow your hub blog (provided it doesn’t double as a personal), it generally means I’m cool with any blogs that are attached to it.
12. On threads…
If you’re not interested in a thread anymore, and would like to drop it, please let me know! I’d feel terrible if we’re both not having fun with it or if partners feel overwhelmed with the amount of threads we have.
Honestly, unless I let you know, our threads have no expiry date - so no need to worry about me dropping them without telling you. I can just be quite slow sometimes.
13. Mun does not equal muse! Anything my muse might say does not reflect on how I think unless I explicitly say so.
14. Know that if I follow you, I WANT to interact with you.
I literally couldn’t care less about follower counts. I care about YOU guys and our interactions.
15. Rules may be subject to change.
Please like this post if you’ve read the rules! You don’t have to, but it’s of personal reassurance to me if you have.
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