#i’m gonna try and work sewing in somehow regardless

[bluuscreen]

redesigned an old creepypasta oc of mine. plus some doodles because i thought it’d be funny to ship him with jeff the killer [my personal headcanon version]

[lovebecomeshim]

hello! your zutara posting today has finally motivated me to ask this question because I came to atla very late(last year, to be specific) and I Love It Very Much but am 1000% out of the loop as far as why what remains of fandom (at least that I've seen among my friends) is so very strongly zutara. I'm not opposed to it per se I just don't really know what has driven it to apparently be such a popular ship? can you help me understand and maybe convert me a little bit?

Hey!! Your ICON! :D I can try but I’m not sure how coherent I’ll be; however I AM sure someone a lot more competent will be willing to add to this. Either way, I’m glad you asked because my plan was to drag down as many people as possible with me.

*smacks the hood of zutara* this baby can fit so much mutual love and support!

This got so long, I’m so sorry. I don’t know how to put it under a cut on mobile and it already got deleted once so I’m scared to mess with it lol. Moving on.

I’m gonna start this with a disclaimer that im on mobile so formatting is tricky and I’m also really new to atla in that I only completed my first watch through in like 2019??? So some of my info is all just based on what I’ve picked up from Discourse 👀 so anyway the sparknotes version: zutara was wildly popular from the beginning. To the point where the atla crew internally disagreed on which ship should be endgame. (Ex. Bryke [showrunners] asked the writers to rewrite The Southern Raiders to make Zuko seem less ideal for Katara than Aang [which failed, depending on who you ask]; the animation team purposefully created a visual parrallel between Oma and Shu in the Cave of Two Lovers and Zuko and Katara in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se in the Crossroads of Destiny; etc.)

The ship was popular enough that Bryke actually chose to display zk fanart at a con for the sole purpose of mocking the fans, but that’s neither here nor there. The entire episode Ember Island Players, while a love letter to/parody of the whole show, was an opportunity to address zutara’s viability as a canon pairing (while, again, mocking zutaras for romanticizing that catacombs scene). Point is! It’s always been popular but with it not being endgame, there’s got to be something that’s given it staying power.

And that’s honestly got to do with three things: their dynamic, thematic cohesion, and potential.

(You know what... you know what, it’s four things. The fourth is they’re so aesthetically pleasing together and individually. Like, they’re just good looking people [specifically when they’re grown but they’re also cute kids] and that absolutely doesn’t hurt) (but it’s not the Point, it’s just nice to point out sometimes)

The dynamic is hard to get into without also looking at the canon pairings, but I think I can do that without unnecessary bashing. It’s just that part of the magic of zutara is really highlighted by what they give to each other that their other relationships don’t.

First off, it’s classic enemies to (would be) lovers. The absolute truest form of it. It’s not too different from how CS started out: a rogue antagonist with a job to do—but no personal vendetta against the future love interest—who is deeply and emotionally invested in his personal storyline (revenge/redemption) with little regard for how it effects other people after his entire life and genuine good nature are marred by suffering, and a fierce warrior girl with a strong moral compass and her own personal investment in stopping him (protect her family and save the world doing it). Obviously frustration and animosity grew between them by the nature of them being on opposing sides, but that just lends itself to the sweetness of their later reconciliation.

The thing is that while they’re wildly different on the surface (he’s a hot-headed prince of a fascist regime who is trying to capture the Avatar to please his father; she’s a nurturing daughter of the chief who is trying to protect and train the Avatar in order to topple his father’s throne) they find out that they have so much more in common both in their experiences and their personalities.

(What follows is an excessive use of the word “both” and I’m sorry about that)(I can edit it. I can do that. That IS an option............)

They both have an innate sense of justice that they are determined to see done (zuko, at the war meeting, sticking up for the Earth Kingdom kid when the guards torment his family, choosing not to steal from the pregnant couple despite his circumstances, abiding by his word to leave the SWT should Aang come willingly, etc.; katara, literally.... at any point). They both have pretty one-track minds at accomplishing certain goals once they’ve put their mind to it, regardless of a lack of support in that endeavor (it goes without saying I guess, but zuko’s entire hunt; katara’s determination to get the earth benders to fight back, her determination to absolutely destroy Pakku until he agrees to teach her, etc.). They both lost their mothers at young ages. Their worlds are war-torn and traumatizing to them both, if in different ways, but that ultimately forces them to grow up too quickly to be wholly independent individuals. They both have issues with their fathers (for WILDLY different reasons, but). They both hold extreme prejudices that they need to learn to overcome (which ties into thematic cohesion)(bit like Lizzie and Darcy in that way but magnified by a million). They’re both extremely emotional and empathetic—which can and often does result in loud outbursts. Katara’s a bit better adjusted and can temper her anger for longer than S1 Zuko can, but they both feel that anger deeply and have no compunctions expressing it (Katara is, usually, more justified, particularly in S1. Again, S1 Zuko is severely maladjusted but at the point when they could’ve feasibly become a couple, he’s so much better off with the way he carries himself). They both struggle with feelings of inferiority in their bending abilities when confronted with prodigal benders like Aang and Azula, but have the work ethic required to double down and become two of the most powerful benders in the three remaining nations. This is a little more minor but it is a parrallel that appeals to some shippers that they both have these alter egos in the Painted Lady (notably fire nation coded) and the Blue Spirit (water tribe coded) that are pretty different from who they are day-to-day and are useful in accomplishing a purpose that they as themselves cannot.

(I’m.... I just realized that this could potentially get very long. Should I have made a slide show with bullet points??????)

Anyway, similar. I know there’s more but there’s literally so much to love about zutara that I’ll drive myself a little crazy trying to compile all the ways they’re similar. (Just gonna say that at this exact moment I went back to add more similarities.... so okay then)

Once they’ve reconciled, we see how all of these things only lend themselves to a deeper intimacy together than they share with literally anyone else. There’s a steady partnership that positions them as the mom/dad of the gaang, while also providing the support necessary to allow the other to not have to carry so much responsibility. A lot of zutaras will point out how zuko is actually depicted doing the more domestic chores that are normally relegated to Katara once he joins the gaang, since the others in the group are two 12-year-olds and sokka. The one that sticks out the most is how he makes tea for the group and then serves them, while Katara is able to just relax with her friends around the fire. Fanon expands upon this a lot to Zuko helping with the laundry or the cooking or whatever else needs doing since he, as a once-refugee, is used to doing his own domestic tasks. Before Zuko joined, Katara was the one mothering everyone, sewing for them, cooking for them, etc. She’s always tending to the needs of the group, and that includes emotionally. She does the emotional labor for the gaang 99% of the time, but when she’s the one falling apart, she’s usually doing it alone and without the comfort that she normally provides for others. Until Zuko. And that’s before they’re even friends.

Which is WHY people romanticize the catacombs of Ba Sing Se so much. Katara is verbally attacking Zuko out of her own righteous anger but also her own prejudice when Zuko, surprisingly, chooses to be vulnerable with her. He’s been on a journey that’s opened his eyes a bit, but he’s never actively chosen to expose the rawest parts of his past to anyone. But for some reason he chooses to do that with Katara of all people. While she’s yelling at him. He sees her humanity, and for once can look past his prejudice and empathize with her. And this time, when she breaks down, she gets to be comforted. Katara normally talks about her mother when she’s trying to explain to someone else that she sees and understands they’re pain, as a form of comfort to them. Here, Zuko uses the exact same tactic. He sees her and he understands. And for zuko? He’s not being shut down. He’s allowed to articulate his pain regarding his mother without being ignored and made to internalize it, and he’s allowed to process how he feels about his scar out loud without being told that he deserved it. And then he lets her touch his scar, something we’ve seen him actively avoid before. He’s completely open to her and she’s completely open to him and all it took was one five minute conversation. She was about to use the little bit of Spirit water that she had, that she was saving for something Important, to heal the scar that still daily causes him pain just because they had, somehow, connected.

Plus there’s the whole parallel to the star-crossed lovers forbidden from one another, a war divides their people—

And then zuko messes up, he regresses, he gets what he wants and he HATES it. And the sense of justice he had as a child has been restored to him against his will and he can’t think of anything he wants to do more than the Right Thing, so he joins team avatar. Before he does that though, we get to see his relationship with Mai, which is where comparison really comes in. And what we see is Zuko, fresh off of his encounter with Katara in the catacombs, trying to be emotionally honest with Mai... and getting shut down and dismissed. Which is just how Mai is and it’s fine, but not for Zuko. Still, he keeps trying, and he keeps getting ignored or scoffed at or yelled at. Which is really a larger symbol for how he doesn’t fit in his old life anymore, but again that’s about thematic cohesion. He tries to articulate his anxieties about returning home, he tries to make romantic gestures, he tries to explain how morally conflicted he’s feeling—and Mai diverts to some kind of physical affection to shut him up and a parting comment that is pretty much always, in essence, “I don’t wanna talk about this.” So they don’t. On the other hand, once zuko and Katara are friends, we see him again emotionally distraught and caught up in his anxieties about facing Iroh, and it’s Katara who comes to him and listens to him and comforts and encourages him.

Similarly, we have Aang clamming up and getting uncomfortable whenever Katara shows any negative emotion, usually resulting in him making excuses or running away. Or, in the case of the Southern Raiders, lecturing her on how she needs to just let go of her anger about her mother’s murder. People have talked this episode to death and usually better than I ever could, so imma... keep it brief. There’s a serious disconnect between Aang and Katara in his ability to empathize with Katara and her needs that has her tamping down her vulnerability and amping up her anger. He tells her that he was able to forgive his people’s genocide and appa’s kidnapping (petnapping? Theft??), which is blatantly not true but also not an entirely equal parrallel to Katara’s situation, and continues making these little remarks throughout the episode. But it’s Zuko that Katara opens up to. It’s with him that she’s able to talk about the most traumatic day of her life, and it’s with him that she’s able to get the closure she needs, cementing their bond as friends and partners. This disagreement between Aang and Katara is then... never resolved. They just never bring it up and hear what the other is saying.

There’s a fic called The Portraits of Ember Island that has a line that so completely sums up the heart of the matter for why people love their dynamic. For context, zuko has woken up early to help Katara with the cooking and they spend the whole time just letting one another talk, and zuko stops to ask why she always just lets him talk. And so she stops to ask why he’s always helping, and it goes as follows:

There’s just... so much mutual support! Trust! Intimacy!! And it just continues like that from the Southern Raiders on, listening to each other, advising each other, watching each other’s backs! And then! Literally saving each other’s lives!! I will never be over the last Agni kai. Not ever. Zuko may have been willing to jump in front of lightning for anyone, but he actually did it for Katara. And in a show, that’s the thing that really matters. It’s a fulfilled trope usually exclusively applied to romantic pairings, and it ended up applying to Zuko and Katara. And then she ran out into the middle of a fight with tunnel vision just to get to him.

Also!! Also Zuko pushing Katara out of the way of the falling rocks at the Western Air Temple!! And Katara catching him as he fell from the war balloon that he fought Azula on!! Before they’re even getting along, they’re the ones reaching for each other. They come to this place of equal ground, as partners, who watch each other’s backs, call each other out but still listen attentively and understand, and provide the support that the other has been sorely lacking up until they knew each other (whether that be from lack of effort or lack of understanding from others, or an unwillingness to accept it for themselves).

Then, trailing along under the surface of this, we see the themes of the show totally embodied by Zuko and Katara as individuals and in their relationship to one another. There’s a YouTuber, sneezyreviews, who has a, like, 2-hour explanation on why she not only loves zutara but also believes that their endgame would’ve actually elevated the writing of atla to new levels particularly because of thematic cohesion and resolved character arcs. It’s the zutara dissertation I never knew I needed, and it’s funny and eloquent and effective, so I’m just going to sum up her section on thematic cohesion to the best of my abilities and then link it for whenever you have the time. And I HIGHLY recommend it, especially if you want a full understanding of what makes zutara so great and gives it such longevity.

Guru pathik has a line that goes something like this: separation is an illusion; things that seem different are just two parts of the same whole. Iroh also tells Zuko something similar: balance and strength are achieved when the different nations come together and influence one another and celebrate what makes them each unique. And this lesson is a massive central arc that both Zuko and Katara go through, moving past a black-and-white, good guys-vs-bad guys, us-vs-them mentality and into a greyer, more nuanced view of the world. Zuko sees the fire nation from an entirely new perspective and while he still loves and hopes for his nations future, he surrenders his blind loyalty to them in exchange for an unflinching loyalty to peace and love. Katara too had to come to terms with the fact that cruel people exist in the earth kingdom and water tribes, while some fire nation citizens are just regular, kind people who also need and deserve to have someone speak on their behalf. And this is honed in directly on how they view each other. They grow in their individual journeys to be open to the humanity in the other and then, once they’ve found that, they’re able to grow more in compassion for others in a beautiful feedback loop. And this is all matched in the symbolism repeatedly and intentionally associated with them in canon: sun and moon, fire and water, yin and yang, Oma and Shu who found love despite their warring nations. Their individual arcs are completed in each other and complement the themes of atla beautifully.

The canon pairs... just don’t. Which, again, is fine. But the very things that give atla longevity and popularity are anchored in zutara. Kat@ang doesn’t accomplish this. They’re... nice. Sweet. Especially when you erase a good portion of their interactions in S3. It could’ve been just a sweet love story. (Personally, the dynamic between toph and aang accomplish the same thing that zutara does, with complementary personalities that fulfill the theme of opposites blending in harmony) M@iko, on the other hand, is less sweet but I think wasn’t even supposed to last. Zuko’s relationship with Mai seems to represent his relationship with his old life as a whole. He can’t be emotionally vulnerable, he’s goaded into abusing his privileges, his agency and opinions aren’t respected. They just don’t have common ground with which to discuss anything that matters, so they don’t. As far as themes, the relationship doesn’t fit with atla. It’s zuko returning to and sticking with what is (on the surface) like him, what’s expected. Fire nation with fire nation. Fluid water bender with the flexible air bender. Like with like, separated from what is different and challenging and complementary.

And all of these things combined of course lead to the potential for the ship. I don’t know how familiar you are with the post-atla canon but... well, miss “I will never turn my back on people who need me”, miss “I don’t want to heal! I want to fight!” ends up living quietly in the SWT as a designated healer who turns a blind eye to the water tribe civil war happening right outside her front door. Which can be fine! People change! Some people just wanna stay inside. I just wanna stay inside! But the potential future for zutara is so much more satisfying, with Katara becoming the most unconventional Fire Lady the uppity old cads who are stuck on the old ways have ever seen. Fanon has her serving as a voice for the other nations within a kingdom at the point of its biggest political upheaval, as a confidante to Zuko who can actually help him while he’s trying to figure out how to move forward and make reparations. They have the opportunity, together, to accomplish what they both have set on their hearts to fight for: positive change that lends itself to harmony and balance. And the steambabies! A popular headcanon is that their firstborn daughter, the crown princess, is actually a waterbender, which causes such an uproar among the people who are adamantly clinging to the old ways. It’s just a future full of potential to be forces for good together, full of trust, intimacy, joy. The exact era of peace and love and balance that zuko announces that he intends to ring in with the start of his reign as Fire Lord is, again, magnified by the very personal zutara relationship. And we love to see it.

tl;dr zutara isn’t for everyone. Some people just don’t vibe with it. Some are nostalgic. Some love the canon they grew up with. Some have been disappointed for years. Some just see themselves in other characters and want their happiness instead. Whatever the reason, that’s fine. But for me, I love the way these two, from the moment they give each other a fair chance, are able to lower their walls and prejudices to see the other for the kindred spirits they are. They see each other’s humanity, and their response is to pour out love and support and compassion. I love that they’re a power couple in battle. I love the symbolism and, honestly, soulmatism that colors their every interaction. I love that they embody the whole storyline of atla in their relationship and how it develops, which is notably why their seasonal arcs always culminate in each finale with how they relate to one another. I love that zuko adopting a waterbending move is what actually saves his life and then katara’s. I love the chemistry! And I love the future they could’ve had, instead of the ones they were given.

So, in conclusion: I just think they’re neat and I hope you do too, at least a little bit. Even if it’s just respectfully from a disinterested distance cause you do you. And now here is the video I mentioned. I’m sorry this post got so long and then I gave you an even longer homework assignment, but I can’t recommend it enough. She says it all better than I can.

[bowtied-pasta]

Soulmate marathon part 1

You share your soulmates knowledge

Character: Eyeless Jack

At this point, you knew your soulmate was in the medical field or at least going to school for it. All the things he knows about the human body, how to cut, sew, implant. He had to be getting along in school just fine.

With your soulmate being so far along in school and knowing as much as he did, he was dedicated to the craft and was likely on track to become a surgeon if not a nurse.

That was.... before the knowledge that popped into your brain every day turned a bit darker. It worried you. Yeah, he was obviously in medical school, or maybe he’s graduated and working as a nurse... but the things you know about how certain organs taste.... raw....well, it left little wonder as to why you had stopped eating red meat.

You fear your soulmate to be an angel of death or something of the sort. A kind nurse that says they’ll do everything they can to help only to come in the night and give an overdose of painkillers to a patient that didnt even need them. But that wouldnt explain the blantant canibalism.

Of course medical knowledge also somehow gave way to deeper and deeper occult knowledge. Things you honestly couldnt understand yourself, but your soulmate seemingly could without a problem. Knowledge of things that werent human. Some that used to be human, others that never were and never will be.

All this led to some rather interesting research on your side. Research of the creatures that he seemingly knew. Research that narrowed your search down to a region of states that would be smart to avoid.... but youre his soulmate. He wouldnt hurt you, right? Not on purpose hopefully. Besides, it seemed you were already living in the region that would be prime for running into him.

Of course, you knew he was also aware of your findings. He knows youre doing research. Trying to find him. He was probably doing the same, hopefully not to do anything malicious... of course as his soulmate you trusted him not to hurt you, but going into this as blind as you were, you trusted nothing but yourself and what you knew. No matter how much you wanted to trust him blindly.

All your research eventually leads you to believe that he could be in two different kinds of places. An abandoned building or the woods. Abandoned buildings were suprisingly few and far between from what you could find, your searches on those having come up mostly fruitless with the few that had potential coming up empty or seemingly taken up by squaters that you had no desire to speak to directly, in fear of a fight.

That left you with the woods. It had been a last resort kind of thing for you as the woods were ridiculously well known for being the worst place a person could go, no matter the time of day. Locals would avoid going too deep. The walking trails never being strayed from as the last group of wild teens that had attempted to do so on a dare had disappeared. Searches yeilded nothing, and those had been tedious as even authorites were on edge to go too deep into the trees. 

Rumors of monsters, demons, killers and ghosts... it was almost positively the place he would be. You had just hoped you wouldnt end up having to go in.

Which is why you sit on a park bench, eyes on the treeline as you contemplate your choices. You could walk for a bit, but it still isnt guaranteed that you would be okay. Only groups ever turned out okay, and the less people in the group the lower the success rate of coming back it seemed, so your measly party of one wouldnt make the cut if your luck was still the same.

Not to mention the fog seemingly pouring out of the trees had your hair standing on end with a deep emptiness in your gut. Whatever controlled that forest didnt want you in it, that much was very clear, and you were more than happy to listen to it. Having done the math, you only had another hour or two of sunlight, the sun setting earlier around this time of year and night lasting longer. Just fine by you, but not the best time to get lost in the woods and murdered by a monster.

You were too wrapped up in your thoughts to notice as a man approched your bench. Taking a seat on the opposite end so that there was still as much space as possible, but making it very clear that he sat next to you on purpose. Your gaze snaps from the trees to him, sizing him up and taking him in.

He was big, very big. You dont see a lot of people that tall, regardless of gender, seven feet being pretty ridiculous given what you’d grown up around. Needless to say, from his height alone, you wouldnt be able to take him. His face was obscured by a hood over his head, dark ginger hair peeking out from under the blue fabric. He sat hunched, keeping his head tilted slightly away from you, he spoke before you could.

“What are you here for?”

The question simple, your answer was too. That doesnt mean you knew how to make it simple, especially since you were almost positive you were currently talking to a serial killer.

“Lots of research led me here. Couldnt have found it without my soulmate though... hey, you wouldnt happen to know any organ eating medical nerds would you?”

With his silence you assume you had said the wrong thing, sealing your fate as the next victim of the woods regardless of the fact that you hadnt even step foot in it yet, only to find that he had tilted his head in your direction. Blue mask peaking out from under his hood, you knew for a fact that you are facing a horror from the trees.

“I do happen to know one, but before that topic can go much further I’m gonna have to ask just exactly how you feel about that.”

His words seemingly chosen carefully. This was your test, all you had to do was not fail it seemed. What the right answers were though, well you suppose you’d just have to be honest.

“Well.... I was pretty scared at first. I thought he was just going to be a medical student. Be a doctor some day... but then the cult stuff happened. He started to know things about demons and monsters and he knew what raw organs tasted like... I was scared... but I decided that I could try. He’s my soulmate, so the least I could do was try. Find him. Figure him out. Give him a chance. Maybe it could be explained away, but I knew that wasnt very likely, just a stupid thought from the kinder side of my brain. Ive known for some time that my soulmate was a killer, to some extent, and now I just want to try. For us.”

You looked over at him after you finished rambling. He appeared unmoved by your words. Having not said a thing or even adjusted himself in his seat, still as a statue. Appearing to contemplate your words, he finally sighs before standing to his full height. Staring down at you from behind his mask where it appeared his eyes were black pits of darkness.

“Well then, soulmate, I guess my chance starts now. If youre still willing, that is.”

[hollenka99]

Whenever and Wherever

This is ridiculously late because I didn’t have much time to work on it thanks to irl stuff so sorry about that but happy (belated) birthday @bupine. Have some bench trio.

1.

2.

The first time their paths cross, it's in the tailor shop run by Tommy's family. Tommy seems to be manning the counter while his brothers and father are supposedly in the back. The customer is clearly an enderman hybrid if his facial features are anything to go off of. He's just here to order a suit for a new job as a stenographer for the mayor apparently. Ranboo lingers longer than he likely expected to when he walked in as the three of them make conversation together. Before their latest acquaintance heads off, they decide to meet up again outside of work hours.

Talking to Ranboo comes easy. Before too long, you could tell Ranboo's work schedule based on where he was found lingering. At the tailor's shop? Well, it was likely one of his days off and he wanted to keep Tommy company for a while as the owner's son worked. At the bakery? That usually meant Ranboo was on his lunch break and hoped to sneak something sweet into his midday meal. He occasionally buys a few flowers for Tommy with the excuse of 'livening up his workspace' and offers Tubbo his attempts at baking. Whenever possible, the three of them either made time during lunch or in the evening to hang out together.

Then Ranboo seems to realise he gets off work around about the same time the bakery owned by Tubbo's family closes for the night. That mixed with the fact he really isn't the best with anything kitchen related... Listen, Tubbo was simply being a good friend by helping him out. Plus, who wouldn't want to take advantage of an excuse to spend more time with one of their best friends? It becomes a... thing, their evening practice sessions. Tommy once comments on it during a lunchtime meet-up, only to tease them but it kind of hits Tubbo how often Ranboo swings by so they can bake together.

It becomes blatantly clear everyone knows what's going on between the two of them when they hang around at the back of the tailor's one afternoon.

"If one of you doesn't ask the other out, I will break into your homes, steal your clothes and alter them so they're unwearable. Then I will make you pay to have them fixed."

"We... We uh, aren't-" Ranboo begins defending.

Tommy glances up from his sewing machine as he switches it off. "Fucking hell, just kiss or something, I don't know. But please stop forcing me to watch the two of you make eyes at each other whenever we hang out. We haven't been 16 for years. Sort yourselves out or whatever."

So they clumsily arrange a 'date' and let things go from there. It goes... well. A second attempt to make sure the first wasn't a fluke wouldn't hurt, nor would a third. It soon gets to the point where this new dynamic feels entirely natural. Tubbo's only worry is that Tommy might feel like a third wheel. Their mutual friend assures them he doesn't care about that. Besides, they know him, if he was actually bothered by it, he would have complained a ton by now.

Getting engaged isn't a big affair. In fact, it is a complete mess that occurs on Ranboo's sofa following a lull in conversation. He trips over his words, segues into various rambley detours and eventually manages to get to the point where he asks the all important question. Tubbo knew his answer the moment he realised where his boyfriend was headed with the conversation.

"So Tommy," Tubbo leans over the counter. The way he very blatantly holds Ranboo's hand only causes his attempt at acting nonchalant to come close to failing. "How much for a couple of wedding suits?"

"You're not getting a friend discount. In fact, I think I'll double the typical asking price purely because you are my friends."

"I hate you, you know that, right?"

"Hmm, might even make it triple."

"I will personally uninvite you."

Tommy and Tubbo maintain straight-faced eye contact for all of five seconds before the taller of the two breaks into a grin. Before the new fiancees can react, Tommy has his arms around both of them, drawing them in closer.

"How could neither of you tell me you were looking at rings? Absolute crime, that, if you ask me. Especially since I'm obviously the bestest man around. Disgraceful, the both of you. How can you sleep at night knowing you left me out of the loop? Gonna have to quadruple the price as punishment."

An elbow to the ribs leads to a slightly pained inhale before the three of them descend into snickers.

3.

Is it bad that he forgot land-dwellers need air?

Tubbo had been watched the two of them from afar. The one with sand-coloured hair makes himself round as he falls a significant distance towards the water. After a few repeats of this odd practice, he decides he will greet the human when he next appears in his domain. Tubbo grabs him by the arms with a friendly smile but it doesn't seem the human is so keen to befriend any merfolk. In the struggle, he gets a weird appendage to the face. Not one to be easily put off, Tubbo swims to the surface in time to see the boy communicating angrily with one whose hair colour resembled those of a beast he's been warned about. He thinks he'll dub them Sand and Orca for simplicity.

Orca spots him watching their conversation and walks over, positioning himself close enough to include Tubbo in any discussions they may want to have with him but far enough that Tubbo couldn't physically reach either of the boys with his arms. Sand greatly disapproves of this supposed fraternising with the enemy. Orca keeps attempting to communicate but their languages are vastly different so all it amounts to are gestures. When they leave, Tubbo finds it funny how the one named after a deadly predator is the most willing to be friendly while the one whose namesake he loves lounging upon occasionally had a tendency to come off as hostile.

The pair of humans don't visit him everyday and even on the days they do, the position of the sun isn't always the same when they arrive. Nevertheless, they continue to come as often as they are able and Tubbo appreciates that. He can't replicate any of their human vocalisations and though they try, neither of the human boys are particularly great at whistling and chirping properly. The constant gesturing seems to be the only way for them to communicate but they somehow manage to become firm friends despite it all.

One thing Tubbo definitely understands is fish. He is perfectly capable of getting his own food and honestly prefers catching it live anyway but if they want to offer him a snack as a sign of friendship, he's hardly going to say no. There's always the option to share the food with his family later. He brings Sand his namesake as a way of thanking them. Even if he knew a good place to observe orcas so he could extend a similar gesture to his other friend, Orca apparently can't swim. At least, that's how Tubbo interpreted it when his friend once pointed to himself, motioned as if he was pulling himself forward in water and shook his head afterwards. So Sand is the only one who sometimes joins him in the shallower water. And Tubbo has learned from his mistakes now, he makes no attempts to keep Sand below the surface longer than the human boy can manage.

One day not long after they meet, Sand tries to tell him something he can sense is important. He gestures between himself and Orca, points to the sun and makes a wide circular motion with his finger, extends his arm so it rises above their heads then ends the message by pointing to the shore. It takes another round of reiterating before Tubbo begins to potentially understand. They will get big with the sun and be here? It sounds odd but he supposes he can't physically stop them from leaving.

The sea grows warmer and cooler then back again over and over. He visits their spot each time the temperature rises. They never come. Or maybe he just keeps missing them when they do show up. He's not sure. Either way, he gets older and grows into young adulthood as the years continue to pass. He hopes the same is happening to them. They did promise to return once they got bigger too, after all. Although, the thought he might have wildly misunderstood Sand's parting message isn't always easy to not dwell on.

His waiting finally pays off and he couldn't be more ecstatic. They've both grown weird shells on their backs that he feels would be ineffective at defending them, their feet are disproportionately longer and their faces are practically unrecognisable with protective shells around their eyes and mouths. They are much larger than the last time they all saw each other too. But it's them, it's really them! Not to mention them seem to have developed the ability to breathe underwater somehow. Unsure how to greet them properly after all this time, he rushes off to the seabed with a grin and presents them with a fish as well as a fistful of sand. They look between themselves before accepting the gifts gratefully.

As the sunlight wanes on the surface, the humans sit on their familiar secluded spot of a caved area while Tubbo lets the water lap around him. The human duo have suddenly lost their strange shells now, both on their backs and faces, as well as returned to having better proportioned feet. Orca offers his own reunion gift. If Tubbo were human, he might have made use of non-existent tear ducts to inadvertently express how moved he was by the object. Because oh wow, he was never able to communicate Orca's

4.

Tubbo knows what it is like to be displaced by war. He'd been born in a time of technical peacetime, though everyone knew this would change sooner rather than later with all the tension.

He's 9 when the war seems to decide it's time to directly come for him as the son of the president, more than the resource shortages or street violence ever could. An attempt to assassinate his father that he'd been too close to lands him in hospital. It's officially too dangerous for him to remain a symbol of how safe their country was. All those not old enough to potentially enlist get evacuated, Tubbo especially.

Snowchester is... alright. It's isolated and out of the way, which is probably for the best in the general scheme of things. But at his age, all he really cares about is making the most of the snow before the novelty wears off and questioning how long it will be before he can go home to his family again. The answer was less than a month and 'we don't know so you'll just have to sit tight. Okay?'. So he reluctantly settles into his new life. He makes an effort to get to know the handful of other kids from the village in the hopes of gaining at least one friend to help him through this, he wanders around the marketplace on Tuesdays to find the sweet highlight of his week and for the hell of it, he challenges himself to become a master snow sculptor. Tubbo also writes to home to let his family know how he's doing but it feels like it has to go through 50 hands just to reach them for the sake of maintaining his secrecy which really sucks. By the time he celebrates his first birthday without them there, he had given up on arguing about the risk of just ringing them.

Then when he's 11, men posing as sea merchants arrive on their frozen shores during the night. Before he's even fully woken up, he's on a horse in his goddamn pyjamas and clutching a pitiful bag filled with whatever he and foster father had managed to stuff into it in 2 seconds. He doesn't get to bid Snowchester a proper goodbye. They're already on a rowboat they'd kind of stolen after racing through the trees when reality finally begins dawning on him. The man who'd looked after him explains they were headed to a new place that would hopefully prove to be safer than his old home.

He's used to the cold of a tundra by now. This place is more landlocked than Snowchester but not everything can be on the coast. He guesses the isolation and lack of enemy reinforcements arriving directly at a village is a good way to decrease the risk of attack. He hates it here. Snowchester might have been a fair distance from other places but at least there had been a bunch of people around. This was literally one guy looking after two kids, now three, in the middle of actual nowhere.

Phil does his best to be accommodating, he will give him that. And the other boys he's living with aren't too bad half the time. But it's too much. He decides he'd rather keep to himself. Ranboo, like Phil, is a bit more patient with him than Tommy is. Ranboo is willing to play a chess game he has no chance of winning or solve the same jigsaw for the 5th time that week. Tommy, on the other hand, will talk at him or encourage him to go outside.

"If nothing dangerous happens, you have to... make me a hot chocolate. Yeah, that seems like a decent payment."

"Payment for what?"

"For getting you to stop sulking and enjoy the snow obviously."

He humours him but he makes sure his reluctance is unmistakeably evident. It turns out Tommy has excellent aim when it comes to throwing snowballs. When Tubbo complains about this, Tommy simply shrugs and reveals his brother is the commander of the army so what did he expect? It doesn't matter whether you're hunting for food or stopping the enemy from getting you first, precision and accuracy are important for survival. That's part of the wisdom Wilbur had bestowed upon him before going off to lead their side to victory anyway. Tommy then ends his speech by standing next to Tubbo in order to cram a previously concealed handful of snow down his back in a surprise attack. Tubbo swears he is going to work out how to dislodge half the roof's worth of snow on Tommy's head tomorrow for that. When they finally head back inside, Tommy lets him know he'd like his drink to include whipped cream and those tiny marshmallows if they still have some lying around.

In time, he learns Tommy had been sent far from home the same as he had. Logsted had been 'a tiny shithole with nothing on offer to do' that eventually fell prey to the same exploitable feature that Snowchester had. Phil had been an old contact of General Soot's so when the initial relocation efforts fell through, Tommy was sent to Phil. No big deal. Well... listen, Tommy can act like a prat at the best of times but he supposes it is nice knowing he's not the only one paranoid this will abruptly end terribly one night.

The days, weeks, months roll by swiftly. The three of them have snowball fights at least onc

5.

Technically, it's Tommy's fault they nearly die. He'd been so insistent on fighting the dragon like his father once had that Tubbo had lost the will to try dissuade him. To be fair, he was all for it. It was only that Tommy was eager to jump right into the challenge while Tubbo… would prefer to actually survive.

They agree it will be an 'in and out' affair. They'll sneak down to the nearby portal at night, kill the dragon and hop back to the Overworld before their absences are noticed. If their families are unaware, they will never get in trouble for this. It can be an epic tale to impress future acquaintances but one to keep to themselves within earshot of those who'd scold them for it.

So that's what they do. With diamond armour and arrows they 'borrowed', the pair of 15 year olds face the dragon. They've already assigned themselves roles with Tubbo being in charge of destroying the crystals and Tommy tackling the dragon as a distraction. The plan is to take on the beast together once Tubbo's initial objective is complete.

It goes to shit when Tubbo barely makes a water clutch after being pushed off a tower by the force of an exploding ender crystal. Tommy had tried to get closer to him to provide support but ended up getting caught in the dragon's toxic breath. And then one of them must have accidentally triggered hostile attention from the surrounding endermen. A perfect example of sod's law, everything that could go wrong seemingly does. They tire themselves out too much by trying to return to more neutral odds. It doesn't happen. The cherry on top was the dragon knocking Tubbo into a pillar with her wing.

He's definitely had enough of this bullshit by the time he lets the developing concussion steal his consciousness. Let them just respawn in the bed they'd set up right outside the stronghold's portal room so they can be done with this. He really doesn't want to lose a life, especially not to a stupid stunt like this. But by this point? Fuck it.

When he wakes, it is not on the ground. It seems to be in a building on some sort. Has someone taken him home to work through his injuries? Tommy couldn't have since the next time Tubbo sees him, he has a haphazardly constructed splint on his leg. They bicker about their disastrous exploits until Tommy grouchily alerts them to the presence of their host, a young looking enderman.

It passes them a written message and Tommy, being the son of someone who is pretty much a jack of all trades when it comes to learning about other cultures, has a go at reading it. It's nothing too elaborate, just a summary of what happened while Tubbo was unconscious. The End native had spotted their plight as Tommy continued to get bombarded by aggressive endermen and toxic fumes courtesy of the dragon. All it had done was bring them home and attempt to give them medical assistance. Now here they were. At the bottom is a word Tommy's never seen before.

"Dunno what the fuck a Ranboo is."

"Maybe it's his name, idiot. Look at where it is, it's a signature."

"Oh, yeah maybe. What kind of stupid name is Ranboo though?"

They can't go back without the dragon dying and neither of them are in a position to make a second attempt, especially at the start when they are still both recovering. With no way home, they resign themselves to their new reality of living permanently in the End. The least they can do, in Tubbo's opinion, is try their best to communicate with their host by learning enderspeak. That goes... very slowly. Even with Ranboo helping out and Tommy's head start, it's not the easiest thing for them to learn. The humans share some of their language with the enderman in return.

Either way, they start living in their new home as Ranboo's guests. Their diet becomes saturated with chorus fruit and the first time either of them accidentally teleports during a meal, it's a shock. Their new friend waits until Tommy's broken leg heals before occasionally showing them around the islands that make up this dimension. They visit an end city that happens to have a ship nearby at some point and Tubbo resists the urge to lightly smack Tommy at the back of the head for acting like he's not impressed. They may possibly never be able to go home but come on. there is a literal massive ship floating in the sky.

Phil comes for them as soon as it feels like they might finally be getting used to their new way of life. They get the scolding of a lifetime mixed in with Phil making his relief and worry painfully obvious. They introduce Phil to Ranboo and of course the guy is conversational in enderspeak. At one point, Tubbo catches Tommy making a jabbing motion towards his father with his thumb incredibly subtly before rolling his eyes. As deeply in trouble as they are, as much as they were settling into what they believed to be a more permanent life change, the promise of home fills Tubbo with anticipation. He can't wait for the four of them to return to the Overworld.

Because you're coming too,

+1.

He's never been so eager to go to an airport in his life. His mum half listens while concentrating on the road as he rambles about all the plans the three of them had started making for the upcoming two weeks. There were so many games on their list for them to try. And yes, he knows they won't be able to get around to them all but they'll be damned if don't make an effort to dent it. Oh and then also all the stuff that got picked on the spinning wheel from Ranboo's stream a while ago.

Tubbo is beside himself as they wait in the arrival meeting area. There's no word of delays so come on, get here already. Then there he is, wearing his signature sunglasses and mask in the midst of the emerging crowd. Once the pair are close enough to do so, Tubbo throws his arms around his friend. And god, he knew Ranboo was much taller but he doesn't feel he'll hear the end of this, especially not once Tommy shows up.

They've already established this in preparatory voice calls but as they head towards the car, Tubbo explains that Tommy isn't due until tomorrow. So maybe they could watch one of those Starkid shows tonight since Ranboo's internal sense of time will be screwed by the long journey and Tubbo's hardly the best at maintaining a circadian rhythm as it is. His parents and sisters will go to bed and that's when the party can really start. Ranboo suggests The Trail to Oregon purely because the scene where Slippery When Wet threatens to murder god lives rent free in his head. But it would ultimately be up to Tubbo when the time came tonight.

Just outside the car with Ranboo's luggage in the boot, he asks his mum to take a picture of the two of them. He dms it to the missing member of their trio with a smirk.

Tubbo: Bet you're so jealous right now

Tommy: No because he's going to hang out with me more after I get there

Tubbo: As if

Tubbo: Can't wait for this week

Tommy: Same

Tubbo: Ranboo says hi btw

Tommy: Wow cringe

Tommy: Can't go on call rn but I say hi too

Tubbo: Whos cringe now?

Tommy: Shut up

He and Ranboo spend the entire journey home chatting about everything and nothing. Oh, these next two weeks were going to be amazing. Tubbo can't wait.

Tubbo wakes slowly. He doesn't tend to be startled by Ranboo's lack of eyelids as often nowadays. They may not share a bed that frequently, separate homes and all that, but he's seen his husband crash on his sofa after an exhausting day enough times to gradually get used to it. Michael had managed to snuggle up between them at some point in the night too. The little zombie piglin boy is fast asleep as well. Tubbo readjusts his arm so it encompasses their adoptive son, drawing him closer slightly.

Distantly, he recalls he's planned to meet up with Tommy later and it makes him think. A husband who cares about him enough to make Tubbo one of people whose side he'd stand by if necessary, a son whom they both love and would defend with their lives and a best friend who still stuck by him despite how much they've changed in the several months since they first met. He'd like to think that regardless of the timeline or universe, he'd always have them or close enough copies.

Content with his situation, he lets his eyes slip close once more and drifts back to sleep.

[myromanholidays]

I typed out a huge ass post at 4am trying to do a favorite mv analysis but I'm incapable of coherent thought so here we go -

The constant morphing between members implies they’re all the same person. Didn’t check for daylight rings or garlic references.

Bathroom saga - jaehyun is bitten and the transformation begins, yuta’s eyes change, jungwoo is surrounded by broken glass bc maybe he panicked/got frustrated over not being able to see his reflection, yuta holds his breath in the murky bath water could be to die and complete the transformation or something to do with the “story of favorite” teasers like trying to wake up from a dream or being reunited with his lover. Need to watch again to see what taeil did in the bathroom scenes.

This sequence makes sense to me except there’s Parthenon style pillars and Greco-Roman marble busts and statues (of Atlas and a woman, prolly someone hot but fatal lmao) in two different sets. For them to be in both ancient civilization and early 20th C film noir type locations, shouldn’t they already be transformed? Possibly Jungwoo’s heart was only beating bc of the butterfly, not bc he’s human (so memories of his past love make him feel alive or want to be alive? The symbolic butterfly defrosted his icy stone heart and the red veins/blue arteries meant *angsty longing* overcoming unalivelihood?)

The sequences on the cliffs are gorgeous - haechan ofc dissipates into rose petals when the sunlight breaks through the clouds but it makes me wonder if the butterfly tornado around jungwoo and Doyoung was supposed to protect them from the sun or transform them into haechan or represent them engulfed in their feelings for whatever the butterfly denotes and choosing to die on the mountaintop for it? It’s the only instance of more than one member in the same place at once aside from dance sequences. Are they in the same spot, experiencing the same thing, but separated by time?

Roses. I’m always gonna think of taeyong first but regardless, rose bushes + floating petals spreading across the aurora borealis place as the sunlight grew stronger during the dance break implies the vamps might have passed away (is the sleeping set the other side or did the butterflies somehow make them immune?). The aggressive electronica prolly symbolizes their fighting spirit but need to rewatch for more rose moments or lyrics tie ins

I noted some stuff about the aurora borealis set and the starry sky (johnny with the curly hair and the shooting stars 🤌) but tbh like most of this post, nothing of substance.

No idea what the dead tree place Taeyong and Mark were in is but it looks cool af. Noticed the apples motif from taeyong’s hacker shoot and SuperM teaser (mark singing let’s go everywhere after pilot played in the countdown live, yes I cry over SuperM crumbs 😭), the heart balloons (?) seem wrapped in twine that makes abstract crosses (yes this is a stretch) or have sew on patches and I think taeyong and mark were the only ones shown with fangs and biting at the camera. Who knows, maybe it’s a greenhouse the artificial UV rays make them aggressive lmao I’m sure there’s some deeper metaphor for the dead tree and another specific tie in to marklore but lmk what

The mv starts and ends in the same place, taeyong sitting up and swallowing (?) the butterfly then lying back down, so it’s not too much to say “it was all a dream” but tbh I doubt it. To flip things up, instead of love in some form motivating them, what if the butterflies actually subdue/doom them? The butterfly keeps taeyong asleep, turns jungwoo’s heart to stone, leads Johnny to starry ends, passes in the bg of the second chorus in the aurora borealis stage which turns into the rose/sunlight filled stage during the bridge? That’s in line with the “this love is destructive” theme in the lyrics.

I’m a working woman so imma stop here but someone with a brain larger than a pea, pls help 🙏

[quicksilversquared]

Move to Safety: Chapter 3 (of 6)

After Adrien just happens to spy Nooroo in his father’s office, he’s sent into an panic. His father is Hawkmoth, which means that Adrien is in serious danger.

Thankfully the Dupain-Chengs are more than willing to step up to the plate and lend a helping hand.

links in the reblog

Adrien was truly beating himself up when, for the second akuma battle in a row, he choked up on his words before he could tell Ladybug about his father.

"It's not like I'm scared of Ladybug," Adrien complained to Plagg as he headed to the Dupain-Cheng house to hang out with Marinette. "Because I'm not! And my father deserves to be arrested, I'm not trying to protect him. But..."

"It's okay to be nervous about change," Plagg said, uncharacteristically serious. "Which I think might be your problem. Even if you don't like the status quo-"

"-the unknown can be scary," Marinette told Adrien five minutes later, after Adrien had expressed the same concerns to her. Her reassurances echoed Plagg's almost word-for-word, which was funny but also, admittedly, pretty reassuring. "Even if you know that all of us will be there for you."

"I just feel bad about allowing the akuma attacks to continue when we could be ending them," Adrien admitted, fussing with a corner of the pillow before catching himself and smoothing it back out. Not that he thought that anyone would care, really- after all, the two of them were hanging out in his room and if the bed was less than perfect, it didn't matter- but even though he trusted Marinette (and clearly Plagg trusted her too, if the number of times he spotted the two of them talking was any indication), he didn't want to seem like an anxious wreck in front of her.

He was one of the city's two main superheroes. He couldn't let himself be an anxious wreck.

"They've been pretty slow this week," Marinette commented, shuffling a little to get more comfortable on the bed. "Because your father is busy, right? I mean, we've only had two this week, and neither of them were a particularly long fight."

"Yeah, it's the usual summer line launch. It keeps him busy this last week and next." Adrien flashed a smile at her. "Helpful, really, since we have exams."

Marinette nodded in agreement.

"He'll probably not have time to do any more akumatizations before he leaves, at this rate," Adrien commented, glancing at the calendar. "So I guess I shouldn't feel too bad about the attacks. But I still do. And if there aren't attacks, then I don't know how I'll reach Ladybug- she's going to be just as busy as we are, studying for exams."

"You could talk to Ladybug at the mural dedication this weekend," Marinette pointed out, and grinned when Adrien whipped around to stare at her in surprise. He had forgotten about that, honestly, what with everything else going on. "Best friends with the Ladyblogger, remember? She's been talking my ear off about it."

"You are an actual lifesaver. I would have forgotten about that, what with everything else that's been going on." Adrien let out a breath, trying to settle the nerves that had sprung up with the idea of having a set date for telling Ladybug. It made everything more real. "I'll tell her then."

Marinette scooted closer to him, reaching out and taking one of his hands in hers. "We'll be here for you, you know that. And you'll be staying with us this weekend, too."

"Right." Adrien smiled over at her, so thankful that he had Marinette and her family right now. He would be a mess without them and their unquestioning support. "Thank goodness."

She smiled back, then glanced down at the bed for a moment. Adrien followed her gaze, wondering if he had messed up the sheets somehow- how, he had no idea, but maybe the older fabric had torn and he hadn't noticed?- when she spoke up again.

"Is it too warm for the blanket down here already?"

Adrien blinked at the sudden change of subject before answering. "Oh. Yeah, a bit, so I took it off the bed."

"I usually keep all of mine still on my bed in a big nest, but I suppose that's a personal preference," Marinette said with a giggle. "I have a ton of blankets and pillows now and just drape myself over all of them. Which you've probably seen before when you leave in the morning."

Adrien had tried not to look at the still-sleeping Marinette when he left in the mornings via her trapdoor, actually, because it just seemed intrusive, but the whole idea of a blanket nest sounded really nice. If Adrien tried it at the mansion, though, things would have tumbled off the edge of his bed. It would happen here, too, actually, because the bed wasn't up against a wall. "I'd normally keep the blanket, but, well..." He shot a sheepish look in her direction. "It's just...I could tell that the blanket had been in the closet for a while, if that makes sense? It wasn't an awful smell, just... a lot."

Marinette's expression lit up in understanding. "Ah! Okay, I know what you're talking about. We have cedar balls in the closet to make sure that we don't get bugs in our linens. It's a nice scent, in my opinion, but I can see where it would get overwhelming."

Adrien nodded. "That's a good description. And since it's warm enough, I just put it back in the closet so that the sheets wouldn't pick up the scent. Well, more than they already have."

"We can wash them!" Marinette said at once, hopping up. "And the blanket too, if you want, but it'll have to be a separate load."

"Mm. I think I'll pass. I'm not going to freeze." Adrien slid off the bed, helping Marinette pull the sheets off. Once they had gotten everything, he took the larger half of the pile of linens from her- there was no point in Marinette trying to struggle down the stairs when she couldn't see, after all- and followed her down to the laundry room. "You're gonna have to tell me what to do here, I've never done laundry before."

"And we don't want you to flood the laundry room," Marinette finished, grinning at Adrien's alarmed look. "It's not that likely, stop looking so scared. You just have to make sure that you don't put in way too much soap. See, all you really need is just a little bit."

Adrien pouted at her, trying not to smile as he did. "You just said that to freak me out!"

The smile that Marinette was clearly trying to hide told Adrien that that had totally been her intention. He pouted at her some more, then scooted over to her side to watch as Marinette showed him how to adjust the settings, explaining each one as they went. It wasn't overly simplified- Marinette knew that while he was unfamiliar with the machines and with paying attention to washing labels on clothing, he wasn't dumb and he picked up on stuff fast- or too detailed as to be confusing, and soon enough Adrien felt confident that he could probably put laundry through without ruining stuff.

Probably. Marinette had promised to help him with his first few loads of laundry once he was no longer at the mansion just in case, because his designer clothes might have some different washing instructions and he didn't want to destroy things right away.

"That blanket didn't fit your bed very well anyway," Marinette said as they got the load started and water started pouring into the machine. She hopped up on top of the dryer, settling down. "I was thinking of making a quilt for your birthday, and I'll try to get it done earlier than that, so you can have it on your bed- unless you have a blanket at the mansion that you want instead!" Marinette added immediately, her words all of a sudden rushing together. "I don't want to assume, I don't know if you have any blankets that you're attached to, or-"

"I would love a quilt," Adrien said at once, unable to help the way his voice went all breathy at the idea. He loved all of the gifts that Marinette had made for him- and yes, that included his favorite scarf, which he had discovered was a Marinette gift after he overheard a conversation between her and Alya- and a quilt?

He had had a moment of wondering why Marinette would think that he had an attachment to any of his blankets at home when she first asked- why anyone would have an attachment to a blanket- but with as soon as he thought about what Marinette had said about a quilt and- well, he could already he can see how an attachment could form. If Marinette did make him a quilt, he would probably keep it forever. Even if he ended up with a larger bed later on, one that the quilt didn't fit on... well, Adrien would either try to keep it on the bed regardless, or he would keep it on a couch to curl up with on cool evenings.

All of the blankets that he had at the mansion were typical department store ones (or mail-order catalogue ones, he really didn't know- but either way, they were plain and had no meaning to them) that either Nathalie or the interior designer had picked out to go with the rest of his room. They weren't anything special, even if he had had them for a while.

Marinette was smiling, clearly relieved that she hadn't somehow overstepped. "Oh, good. Do you want to look at patterns? I've been bookmarking some things and if it's not a surprise, then you might as well have some input."

"Oh, sure!"

Adrien followed Marinette back upstairs eagerly, a bounce in his steps. He had seen quilts before, of course, and they were so pretty. And so much work, too, so Adrien kind of couldn't believe that Marinette had been planning on taking so much time just for a birthday gift for him.

Not that jackets and bags and dresses- all things that she had made for her friends before- were exactly quick things to make! But quilts...

There were lots of little pieces, for one. The cutting and sewing together probably took forever, even for someone as talented as Marinette. And then there was the actual quilting part.

While his current bed was a full size- larger than a twin, not quite as large as a queen or king- well, that was a still a lot of fabric to cover.

While the sheets went through the wash and then the dryer, the two of them looked over Marinette's folder of quilt patterns. There were a lot of ideas, and it was pretty overwhelming at first, seeing all of the patterns, but, well...

There were some patterns that just called to Adrien more, and they narrowed it down to three of his favorites. By the time the sheets came out of the dryer and it was time to wrestle them back onto the bed, he had managed to select a favorite.

He was really looking forward to the quilt now.

"Want to come along with me to the fabric store and help pick out fabrics?" Marinette asked once the sheets were back on the bed and she had written up a list of how much fabric she needed. "Quilting fabric is so much fun to pick through. All of the patterns to choose from... all of the colors..."

Adrien grinned at her. Marinette had clearly already entered what he had previously dubbed the Fabric Haze. She had a sewing project in mind, and now she was entirely focused on it. "Shouldn't we be studying? I mean, I know we have most of the weekend for that, but with the mural dedication that I have to go to, that'll take some study time, and if you have fabric, uh..."

Marinette puffed up at him. "Are you saying that I'll get distracted? I can behave with fabric in the house! I wouldn't start to sew until after exams are over."

"Mm-hmm." Adrien snickered some more, then calmed down. "How about we save the fabric errand for after the dedication? I know it's a bit more time then not spent studying, but it might be nice to have something to look forward to for after I tell Ladybug about...you know."

"That makes sense." Marinette glanced longingly towards her computer, where their chosen design was pulled up on-screen. She startled and looked away right away when Adrien snickered again. "So, uh, studying?"

"Studying," Adrien agreed, following Marinette to her desk. In all honesty, they probably should have started sooner instead of spending so much time on the quilt, but he wasn't going to complain. Not at all.

Not when Marinette was doing her best to make him feel at home.

  The mural dedication on Saturday morning was boring, to say the least.

It hadn't always felt like a snoozefest to do these sorts of things, Chat Noir reflected as he stood next to Ladybug, both of them standing a little bit behind and off to the side of the mayor as he talked. When their statues went up- well, that had been cool. But the two of them kept getting invited to dedications (some superhero-themed, others not) and now, several years into their superhero careers, the formalities had become stuffy. Journalists were welcomed, the two of them got name-dropped, there were thank-yous to sponsors and builders or artists or whoever was involved, and then some background on the project and why it was done and-

Well, Chat Noir was usually well and truly tuned out by that point.

He felt a little bad about that, sometimes. In cases like this, where it was obvious than an artist had worked super-hard at bringing their vision to life, it probably would have been nice to listen to how the superheroes had apparently deeply inspired them and the thought process behind the symbolism in the painting. But he was even more distracted than usual today, and so the symbolism that the painter had used in the painting was going straight over his head, the explanation going in one ear and out the other.

And then after the speeches, there was mingling.

"I told the mayor that we couldn't linger long," Ladybug murmured in Chat Noir's ear as the crowd in front of them started to shift, signaling an end to the speeches that he had somehow missed. "That we have other obligations today, so we can only talk for a few minutes before we leave."

"Yay exams." Chat Noir glanced around, wincing when he spotted reporters pushing through the crowd to get to them quickly. Presumably the mayor had made a comment about the superheroes not being available for long, or else they wouldn't be in such a hurry to reach the two of them. Their presence was going to make it hard for him to tell Ladybug about his father, and he had promised himself that he was going to do it today.

"Ladybug! Chat Noir! A couple minutes of your time?"

"A couple minutes is all we have to spare, unfortunately," Ladybug said smoothly, turning to them. "But we can answer a couple questions before we go."

Madam Chamack dove in first. "We're glad that the two of you could make it, but are we ever going to see the other members of your team at any of these events? This dedication in particular, it seems, it might have been prudent..."

"We appreciate that our part-time teammates both past and present are being honored in the mural, but they only come out for emergencies," Ladybug told the cameras. "It doesn't seem like a great idea to have so many Miraculous out and in one area unless it's strictly necessary."

"It would be too risky," Chat Noir agreed, glad to be playing backup. Ladybug had honestly become better than he had at answering questions without hesitation, and so he let her take the lead. "But yes, it's nice seeing more than just the core two of us being represented. We couldn't do it without our entire expanded team waiting in the wings to lend a helping hand."

Even once Hawkmoth was gone, it would be too risky, in his opinion. There would always be people out there who wanted to steal the Miraculous and use the powers for their own gain, and if there were more targets out... well, then that would just make things easier. And if he thought it was dangerous, then Ladybug would definitely never consider having unnecessary Miraculous out. She was even more cautious than he was.

"There's been a decrease in akumas over the past couple weeks- thoughts on that?"

"Presumably Hawkmoth has a life outside of supervillainry, since that wouldn't pay the bills," Ladybug offered, flashing a small smile at them. She got some chuckles at that. "He may be busy. There have always been times when things slow down or speed up, and it's probably not worth reading into short-term trends too much."

Chat Noir nodded, though he didn't add anything to that.

"Instead, we should be thankful for the slower period- I know I am!- and focus on making sure that we're kind to others and not getting needlessly upset over small things," Ladybug added. It had become a fairly standard plea for them over the years, though how much it actually helped, it was hard to say. Some people, like most of his classmates, certainly tried to be kind and not overreact, but others, like Chloe and her mom and the Mayor...

Well, they certainly caused more than their fair share of akumas, that was for sure. There was usually one Bourgeois-caused akuma per week, which, considering that there were three of them and hundreds- or thousands, rather- of other people in Hawkmoth's favored portion of Paris, was ridiculous.

(Or, to borrow Chloe's favorite phrase- ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous!)

Ladybug fielded a couple more questions, then gently started to extract them from the press. All of a sudden, Chat Noir started panicking.

He couldn't let this opportunity slip by without talking to Ladybug, not again. But once they left, they would go their opposite ways right away and he wouldn't be able to tell her anything.

"Ladybug, I have to talk to you before we leave," Chat Noir murmured, ducking his head to talk directly in her ear as Ladybug smiled at the reporters for a photo. "Do- do you have a couple minutes to spare for me?"

"Of course," Ladybug murmured right away, glancing up at him. "Is there something in particular...?"

Chat Noir swallowed. It was now or- well, not never, but maybe his only chance for the day, and he would definitely beat himself up over it if he backed out now. "I know who Hawkmoth is. He's-"

Ladybug's eyes snapped to him, then slid over his shoulder towards the still-lingering reporters as she pressed a finger to his lips briefly. "Tell me more once we get up on the rooftops? We can go over a couple blocks so that they don't see us."

That was smart. He had gotten so focused on not chickening out on telling her that he had completely blanked out on being cautious. If any of the civilians nearby overheard them so much as mention that they knew who Hawkmoth was, it would be front-page news by tomorrow, never mind the fact that giving Hawkmoth a heads-up would make the superheroes' job more difficult. And if any reporters heard...

There would be news articles posted online only minutes later.

Chat Noir nodded, waiting for Ladybug to finish answering a final couple questions before following her to the rooftops. He had to give her credit- even though she had to be shocked by the news that he knew who Hawkmoth was, she still managed to flash the reporters her usual smile and wave as they left. Once they had reached a series of rooftops several roads over, Ladybug landed and caught his hand to steady him as he landed. "So you were saying...?"

Chat Noir nodded, taking a deep breath. He had to reach deep inside himself and remember his acting lessons, focusing on not looking affected. "Hawkmoth. His- his son saw him talking to his kwami and, uh, told me. It's Gabriel Agreste."

Ladybug exhaled, long and low. "Ah."

"And Mayura- it has to be his assistant, Nathalie," Chat Noir added. "So. Uh." He fidgeted. "...I don't know where to go from here."

"Well, I think- hmm." Ladybug nibbled on her lip, clearly thoughtful. "It's not great timing, with exams coming up this week, but obviously we don't want to get called away during exams..."

She was handing him the perfect opening, honestly. "He's going to be out of the country this week, actually. Er. Apparently. According to his son."

Ladybug raised an eyebrow. "Actually out of the country or his hologram going out of the country?"

Chat Noir couldn't help but laugh. Everyone had heard about that scandal, apparently. "Actually out of the country. He got so much bad press from that that he wouldn't be able to risk it. Besides, people he meets are going out of their way to shake hands with him to make sure it's actually him."

That got a laugh out of her. "I'm sure he's thrilled about that."

"Oh, no doubt." His father had been steamed by the hologram's failure, and in such a public setting, too. And then for his business associates to be subtly reminding him of the scandal every time they met...

It really was pretty funny.

"So we can wait until after exams," Ladybug decided. "Maybe- if he's traveling, maybe we can get the drop on him when he returns? I mean, he's bound to be jet-lagged, right? And it seems like he wouldn't be expecting it."

"And his assistant takes a vacation after he gets back from his trip," Chat Noir said, remembering that important little detail all of a sudden. Nathalie didn't often take vacations, but she worked so hard on the summer launch and there was always so much company business to deal with at the same time that once everything was done, she took several days off and went out of town to visit family. "Which means no Mayura on hand to provide backup."

Ladybug lit up. "That's perfect! We can deal with one supervillain at a time. Attack Hawkmoth when he won't have Mayura nearby to transform and help, and then maybe Portal and get Mayura before the news can get to her? Then it'll be an ambush attack on both of their parts. We would just need to know where she's going to be."

"Are we going to pull in some of the others?" Chat Noir wanted to know, filing a mental note of ask Nathalie exactly where she's going for later. "If we're attacking when he isn't expecting us, maybe we won't need backup, but just in case..."

"That wouldn't be a bad idea," Ladybug agreed. "Keep them back and out of sight, but with clear instructions and a signal for if we need them to help- it's just a question of who we want."

Chat Noir nodded. "Cobra, maybe? I know he's not come out for a while, but the re-do could be good."

Ladybug worried her lip. "I would, but he's gone to university out of the city. That's a good idea to have the Snake out, though. Maybe one of us could use it. Uh- Seabiscuit? If we need help, he'd get people there fast. And Hornet, for restraint."

"If we could get Seabiscuit to open a portal directly behind Mr. Agreste and have Hornet dive through, the fight could be over before it's even started," Chat Noir pointed out. "It would just be a matter of keeping Mr. Agreste sufficiently distracted."

Ladybug lit up. "I know! We could have Vixen make a Mirage of the two of us out there, battling the akuma. He'll be focused on that, and won't be expecting any sort of attack in his lair."

"And if we Portal in from the wrong direction, we can just reset and try again," Chat Noir agreed. "That is- I'd almost call that deceptively complex, honestly. There's a decent handful of moving parts, but with any luck, it should be over pretty fast."

"We'll have to give everyone their Miraculous before Mr. Agreste gets back, because any delay after the akuma shows up will be suspicious," Ladybug said, frowning in thought. "Not ideal- can you find out when, exactly, he's going to return and when Nathalie will be leaving? We can get the Miraculous out before then, with instructions on what we want people to do and where we're going to meet up on the day of the battle. That way, we won't have to spend as much time explaining everything while the akuma is out and about."

"Yeah." Chat Noir let out a long breath, trying not to let the nerves show. It all felt more real now that they had a plan, and it- it wasn't a bad thing, really. Soon he would be able to go directly to the Dupain-Cheng house and stay there, no sneaking around required.

And he was looking forward to it. No matter what the nerves in his stomach were saying otherwise.

[quercussp]

Sometimes I get jealous of my friends because of how talented they are. One can draw and paint amazingly. Another can sing, and play instrumens. Writes and composes great music. Another can sew beautiful clothes. I'm so proud of their talent. I hope more people get to see and appreciate it. But it also makes me feel.. inadequate. And left out. Like I was abscent whenever their talent was handed out. I wish i didn't have to feel bad is all.

I’m sorry anon:( Your feelings are totally valid and I think a lot of people feel this way at least sometimes, I definitely do. I know that this isn’t a particularly rational thing, so probably rationalizing and trying to convince your brain to think otherwise isn’t gonna work 100%, but i can share some of the ways i’ve dealt with this feeling. i don’t know if it will be useful to you or not, but maybe it can help at least a little bit?

1) Don’t merge together talent and skill. A lot of the things you describe are things that probably required a lot of learning and a lot of effort to learn how to do. And this isn’t to say that there aren’t talented people and not to say that “you just haven’t put in the work”. What I usually think about is that learning something and investing time into something is a choice and a privilege, and not everyone has the same resources needed to achieve greatness at something. We all start at different places, and it’s not at all a reflection on you as a person, just the situation you were put in. Some people put in the effort into learning how to play the violin, and some into how to do math, some into how to avoid upsetting their parents, some into just plain surviving. 

2) My mom always told me that if everyone around you is better than you, that means you found the right crowd. There are billions of people, you will always be able to find people that are less accomplished or less talented at things that you value. But in the end, if the people in your life are all more “talented” than you, that means they all see value in being in your life, in being your friend. This is something I often tell myself when I feel bad about myself. If all these lovely people want me in their lives, that means that I am valuable.

3) Talents are a weird thing. We tend to think of talented as a very specific set of abilities, but that’s not a given or universal thing. In different periods of time, in different cultures, different skills and abilities were considered desirable and different people were considered talented. All humans have things they are better at and things they are worse at, and society somehow just decides which are more important, but we don’t have to agree with that. So you can’t sing or play instruments? Ok. But can you make a friend of yours feel happy when they are down? Can you make the people in your life feel loved? Can you listen to someone and make them feel heard? Can you choose a good watermelon at the grocery store? Can you keep a secret? Can you fight your irritation at someone? Can you self reflect on the things that you do that hurt other people? All of these things are incredible abilities that should be just as valuable, if not more (especially the watermelon one) than artistic talent or musical talent, and everyone is better or worse at some of them. There are things that you are very good at. Maybe it’s natural, maybe it’s a learned skill, maybe it’s a coping mechanism, but regardless, you are just as worthy and just as talented as everyone else, and there will always be someone who will feel like they wish they had your talent at something.

4) You are allowed to enjoy something even if you’re bad at it. Like even if you’re naturally really bad at it, but if it brings you joy, go for it. Allow yourself to be bad, embrace it, and just let yourself feel good about it. I know that it’s a hard thing to do, trust me. Comparing yourself to others seems to be just the default setting people have, and it’s especially difficult when people close to you are better than you at something. In my family, for example, everyone is an athlete. Like literally everyone. All my sisters run literal marathons, so does my mom. A bunch of my cousins are professional athletes and coaches. My little sister did competitive dancing most of her life and was absolutely amazing at it. Me? I’m just not good at it. And I’m not being modest or self deprecating, I’m legitimately not made to be a runner or an athlete. Even when I was a kid, when all my friends would run around crazy I would always walk with poise like the princess that I felt I was. Thing is, I love running. Like I legitimately love it. Some of my favorite moments in life are when I’m running. I didn’t do it for years because I felt like I was bad at it. Even when I was at my peak fittest, I still could never run more than like 2 miles. I suck at it. And no, I won’t get better with practice, or maybe I will get better but I will never be like my sisters, that’s just not going to happen. But it’s still going to bring me joy. And every time someone (or me) compares my abilities to those of other people, I’m going to remind myself that the whole point of life is to be happy, so if i can be happy doing something, I don’t care if I’m better at it or worse. 

Ok, sorry for this rant, I guess you hit me in the feels with the question. I don’t know if I made any sense, or if any of this is useful, or if anyone has made it till the end of this post. But I hope that you learn to appreciate you for the wonderful person that you are, anon. You deserve to be proud of yourself and you deserve to feel good about yourself.

[ourownsideimagines]

You Owe Me $666 for All the Sunglasses I’ve Bought (Crowley x Reader Soulmate AU)

Characters: Reader, Crowley

Requested: Yes

Requested by: Anon

Point of View: Second Person POV

Warnings: Slight angst, cursing, probably OOC Crowley

Words:  2459

A/N: For this, the reader is going to be American. And Ugh I feel like Crowley is OOC in this *cries in celestial* Also, this likely takes place after the events of Good Omens. Also did my best to keep in gender neutral, so let me know if I fucked up.

---

Golden. That was the color your right eye was. The eye that was meant to match your soulmates. It was a beautiful color you thought. Your family, not so much.

You’d been forced to wear sunglasses since the age of three. You didn’t understand why, no one would explain it to you. They simply expected you to do as you were told. For the most part, you did. But when you were alone in the restroom, or even in your own bedroom, you would take them off and admire your eyes in the mirror. One a lovely (color), and the other brilliant gold, slit down the middle like a snake’s.

When you started elementary school, your parents were hesitant. They made sure to explain to all the adults - the principal, the lunch lady, the teachers - that you were NOT allowed to remove the glasses. Ever. The other kids thought you were weird.

Some of them had already found their soulmate. Others had two different shades, some brown and green, others blue and hazel, some different shades of the same color. No one ever had a yellow snake eye.

It was the second grade that another kid finally convinced you to take off your glasses. You’d smiled brightly as you removed them, only to let it fall in utter confusion as he and his group of friends screamed.

The truth spread fast. They all called you freak, and you were a target of non-stop bullying. Even the little girl you’d managed to befriend stopped hanging out with you. The other kids would continuously try to steal your glasses, and when they did, they snapped them in half, leaving your eyes open to the world.

Within a month your parents pulled you from school and decided homeschooling was the next best idea. You were isolated. Alone. The human contact you had was short and dull. The only friends you had consisted of people you talked to online, which were few and far between. Slowly, you began to hate your eyes. Even when alone you tended to wear your glasses.

Both of your siblings found their soulmates by the age of 18. Their eyes were, as one would call then, ‘complete’. You prayed to whoever might be listening for you to finally meet your soulmate, so your eyes would be complete, so you wouldn’t be alone anymore. You would finally be able to safely see the world without a darkened filter. After a while you started to think, maybe your parents were right for making you wear the glasses, but damn, they were expensive.

By the age of 28, you still had not found your soulmate, and you’d spent more money than you could count on sunglasses. Your parents used to get upset at you when you lost your glasses or when they broke. And it wasn’t like you’d been trying to! You came to the conclusion that you had just been born unlucky.

Somehow, though, you caught a break. You’d just finished your second to last year of college when you managed to plan your first ever out-of-the-country trip to London over summer break. Your best friend, Sophie, lived there. Sophie was the only person you felt you could trust completely. You’d met her on a confession blog that she and her soulmate, Anna, ran. You knew them both well, but Sophie had been the first to see your eyes and not treat you like a freak of nature. Anna had only seen them once. Regardless, she was nice to you.

Sophie and Anna had met when they were children, and they had both recalled the moment they realized they the person across from them was the one person in their life they knew could do them no wrong. The one person they could trust completely. You wanted that. Despite everything that damn eye had done for you, you wanted that. You were just afraid of who the snake-eyed person might end up being. Lord, you hoped they were a good person.

Sophie was there to greet you when you arrived at the airport. She was in a light yellow sundress with black tights and black boots, and she held a half-assed sign with your name written on it.

When her eyes landed on you, her face split into a huge grin. She dropped her bag, and the sign and welcomed you with open arms. Despite wanting to keep your composure, you felt a few tears fall down your cheeks in happiness. You’d wanted to meet Sophie for years.

“Welcome to London,” She said as she pulled away. Without hesitation, she gently wiped away your tears. “I can’t believe you’re actually here.”

“Me neither.” You smiled widely for the first time in what felt like forever. “I’m just so relieved to get away, even if it’s only for the week.”

“Well I’m going to make sure this is the best week of your life, bitch, so you’ll have to come back.” She said with a wink.

“If I can afford it.” You laughed awkwardly.

“I’ll make sure you can afford it.” Sophie held up a hand and tapped your nose gently with a small ‘boop’ before pulling you out of the airport.

The first stop was the home she and Anna shared. It wasn’t anything huge - it had two rooms, a bathroom, a small living room, and a kitchenette. Anna wasn’t home - according to Sophie, Anna worked weekdays at her father’s furniture business, and did some custom clothing work on the side (in the corner of the living room you saw her sewing supplied all piled up in the corner). She wouldn’t be home till later.

“I took the week off,” Sophie admitted. “I want to spend as much time as I’ve got with you.”

“Oh Sophie,” You gushed quietly. “Oh, you didn’t have to.”

“Nonsense! Other than Anna, you are my best friend. I wasn’t gonna let you go around my hometown all alone, I’m not that cruel.” Sophie suddenly gets very serious. “You said you’re not allergic to cats, right?” You nodded slowly and she grinned. “Fantastic!” She skipped over to the door of her and Anna’s shared room and pushed it open.

Moments later, a large, fluffy, white cat bound out, covered from head to toe in dirt. Sophie let out a squeal of surprise.

“Shit!” She said. “Shit, shit, shit!” The cat bounced up at you, attempting to climb up your leg. You jumped back in surprise, but the cat was very determined. “I forgot to put Anna’s plants in the kitchen!” Sophie sighed. “Nina’s knocked them down!” Nina let out a loud pur as you scooped her up in your arms, and she immediately rubbed her head into the skin of your neck. You ran your fingers over her gently, dislodging some of the dirt.

Sophie stormed over, pouting as she looked at Nina.

“You little brat, you fuck up some perfectly good flowers and think you deserve a cuddle?” Nina peered up at her with bored blue eyes. You snorted as Sophie took Nina. “This is why we took away your TV privileges young lady.”

“She has TV privileges?” You asked, laughing.

“Anna and I figured out pretty quickly that Nina likes to watch Benedict Cumberbatch so we usually put on Sherlock or Doctor Strange on to keep her occupied. But recently she was being a little shit so we took away her privileges for two weeks.”

“I mean, I can’t blame her.” You giggled as Sophie avoided Nina’s playful swipes at her face with her paw.

“Ugh, you’re a bastard.” Sophie groaned, setting Nina back down. The cat bolted back towards the bedroom. “No- Gah!” Sophie sighed. “I haven’t… cleaned up yet.” She wiped her face with her hands, effectively smearing dirt on her cheeks.

“Want me to occupy her while you clean?” You offered, to which Sophie was grateful. She tore Nina away from the broken pots and over to you, and you held and played with her for a good twenty minutes while Nina cleaned up the mess. It was when Nina began bapping your face repeatedly that you quickly removed your sunglasses, knowing that if you got any kind of scratches on them you’d have to buy new ones.

“Alright!” Sophie announced, walking out of her room with a trash bag. “My beautiful fiancé’s plants are trashed,” she paused, noticing that you had taken off your shades. You guys met eyes for a long moment and then she smiled. “I was thinking you and I could go to the shop to get some more.”

You smiled, or at least tried to. You set Nina down, who scampered back into the bedroom, trailing dirt behind her.

“Yeah,” you put your glasses back on and stood. “I’m game.” Sophie grabbed her purse, fishing for a moment before pulling out her own pair of shades and putting them on.

“Let’s go then.”

The drive to the gardening shop took no more than ten minutes. The browsing on the other hand, that did seem like it was stopping anytime soon.

“What about these ones?” She picked up a pot of pink tulips, bringing them closer for inspection. It was the ninth plant she’d contemplated, of which she’d only decided on two.

“I thought Anna wasn’t fond of the color pink.” You frowned. Sophie purses her lips.

“Well, that’s mostly true. More pink clothing and accessories. Flowers are okay, I believe.” She held the pot close. “I’m going to hand this to the bloke up front, then we can keep looking.” You nodded, and she went off. You continued to wander, gazing at the different arrangement of flowers, and succulents, and some of the larger plants near the back. You held up a rather small spider plant, and decided that when you got home you were going to spruce up your place with some nice house plants. You’d been thinking about it for a while, but being in that shop just solidified the idea.

You begin making your way back towards the flower when a man rounds the corner and you crash into each other. You stumble back a bit, and take him in. He’s tall, with short, red hair, dressed in what you could consider semi-casual clothes. His eyes are covered by a pair of sunglasses, not much unlike your own - including the side shields you sometimes had to put in yourself. He looks a bit annoyed by being ran into, but neither of you say a word because they catch in your throat. 

There’s a sensation of almost burning behind your eye - nothing uncomfortable, to your surprise. But it’s enough that you have to gape, removing your glasses so you could press your hand into it. The man quickly does the same, turning away from you with a short curse.

It’s the moment you’re able to open your eyes again that it hits you. As you stare at this man, you can’t stop yourself from gently grabbing his wrist, something it seems he’s going to jerk away from until his head snaps in your direction, and a pair of brilliant snake eyes stare back at you. The same color as the eye that caused you so much trouble growing up.

You could have cried, and you probably were. The man swallowed thickly, glancing back and forth to make sure no one was around before his eyes settled on you again.

“You’re…” he paused, unsure what to say.

“I thought I was never going to find you.” You blurted out, flushing quickly. “I-I wasn’t sure there was really someone with… well, your eyes.” Hesitantly, you reach up to cup his cheeks, and he watches you closely.

“I didn’t think there was really someone out there for me.” He replied. His eyes searched your own for something, though you weren’t sure what.

“What’s your name?” You asked, pulling away slowly. You were a bit surprised when he caught your hands.

“Crowley.” He gave your hands a light squeeze.

“(Name).” You replied. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Crowley.” You saw the faintest smile on his lips as he let go of your hands, placing his sunglasses back on.

“Likewise, (name).” He looked around again, opening his mouth to speak again when suddenly he was interrupted.

“There you are!” Sophie said from behind you. “Should I keep a leash on you?” She joked. You turned around to face her, and she caught sight of your face for the first time. Her eyes widened. “Oh-” She looked at Crowley, realization truly hitting her. “Oh! Oh, shit.” She laughed, but slapped a hand over her mouth. “Holy shit.”

“Sophie,” You sighed.

“No, no! I’ll leave you be.” She came up to you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug before pulling away, her eyes going between yourself and a slightly amused Crowley. “You know how to get back to the house, right?”

“Yes?” You said, a bit puzzled by the question. Sophie smiled, turning on her heel before sauntering off. “Sophie? Sophie, what the hell.” You hissed, half tempted to follow her before remembering exactly who was standing behind you. You turned back to Crowley, an awkward smile on your face. “I’m… So sorry about her.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Crowley shook his head gently. “I have a friend who may have reacted in the same way, except, well, without all the cursing.”

“Sophie’s been my friend forever now,” You laughed. “She’s the only thing keeping me sane sometimes.”

“Yeah, that sounds like Aziraphale.” He chuckled. There was a moment of silence, but it wasn’t awkward. It was comfortable. Seeing him smile made your heart feel warm and fuzzy. Was this what it felt like to be in love? To feel loved?

Lord, you’d only just met the man, but you knew there was nothing you wouldn’t do so see him smile like that forever.

“So, uh, (name),” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “I know we just met and all, but, uh… Well, I was wondering if you’d like to go get some lunch? There’s a bakery a couple blocks away, and I’m… I’m sure you have many questions about…” He ran a hand through his hair, still stumbling over his words, but you knew exactly what he meant.

His eyes.

“I’d love that.” You agreed with a smile. “Seeing as my tour guide’s basically abandoned me.” You sighed. “Though, you know, my parents taught me never to accept invitations from strangers.”

“Strange? Me? No.” He shook his head, chuckling. “I think you’ll find I’m absolutely normal.” You laughed in response. Then, he held out his arm. “C’mon. I think it’s time we got to know each other. Smiling, you looped your arm with his.

“I look forward to it.”

Let’s just say, you were going to be staying in London for longer than you’d planned.

[hazbintrashbin]

The Tale of a Moth and a Spider

Once upon a time, there was a young lady.

Said young lady sits on the window pane. In her hands she holds some sort of craft, and is finishing up the last touches with a couple more frantic sews. She pricks her finger and hisses, shoving her wounded finger into her mouth for a second —just a quick second!— only to go right back to sewing.

She was but a passing scalleywag, however, due to unforeseen events, ended up requested to go to a ball.

Finally, she finished her craft! She went over to the nightstand and looked into the mirror. Glaring at her one golden eye, she grimaces. “There is no way in the nine circles of hell I will allow myself to go through with this.” She took up her eyepatch from a coatrack, and slipped it over her other eye. This eye was no good, and not quite a sight to see… it was better this way.

This young lady was a pirate, and the most fearsome of them all.

She pulled her hat from beneath the bed and fastened it onto her belt, throwing a rather large coat over herself. She grabbed her small pouch and heaved her bag onto her back. She was ready to go.

At said ball, Princess Charlie had made a decree: the one she’d marry was none other than Vaggie, who happened to be —

“...Me.” Vaggie takes a moment to facepalm, groaning in frustration. Why did she have to choose her, of all people? Why not Lord Alastor? Or Lord-Sir Pentious? Or Duchess Nifty, or Lady Bomb? Hell, even Lord Husk would be a better fit! But not her, not Captain Vaggie —no way! Vaggie may be an airborne entity by nature, but she belongs on the water, gliding the winds into the World That Comes Tomorrow; she wants to keep traveling to smell the spice from every nook and cranny of the world, to seize ships from every yellowbelly daring to cross her, to rough house with every sorry squadron atop the floorboards and to sleep facing the stars, all while her ship, the Sea Moth, rocks gently: as if it were a giant cradle. Yes, that is where Vaggie belongs. Not standing beside some cheesy, smiling two-faced, tomato-cheeked—

“—snout-nose-having, bow tie NO collar-wearing, ghostface, pretty-pretty-Princess in constant distress, same ponytail having, no-good shit dripping, class-lacking, dumb look-on-her-face —ugh!”

So, ‘tis be her plan: once the time is right,

Vaggie peeks out the window. All clear; she grabs her makeshift rope and throws it over the edge. She watched it with mild interest as it unfolds all the way down into darkness, where she’d fall into water. From there, she’d have to carefully swim through the moat.

The little moth would fly into the night!

Down and down Vaggie flew as she clutched onto the joined fabrics for dear life. Quickly, she fell right into the water, spinning herself in a way as to make as little noise as possible.

Princess Charlie would be heartbroken, for her spark had flown like a kite,

Vaggie swam and quickly pulled herself up onto land, and dashed into the dark woods looming over the castle. They were menacing and silent. However, this phased her none: she just wanted to rid herself of this problem and return to her life. After all, she had never expressed to Charlie any desire to be with her —the two hadn’t even dated! No, no, no —more like Princess Charlie took a liking to Vaggie, and figured she’d have everything go her way at the drop of a hat, all because she’s the princess. As if! Vaggie doesn’t abide by such authority. Charlie and her family may be royalty, but they are not a fearsome force to her. Why, she’s seen much worse on her seafaring endeavors!

But Vaggie knew — “Fit like a puzzle” —Them? Not quite.

While running, Vaggie suddenly froze when she heard a snap. She glanced around. All she saw was darkness. It was chilly, and she could still taste a slightly metallic nippyness. Hairs stood up on her body.

But of course, as she stood in the woods so still,

Crack.

Vaggie clutched her spear, which had majestically appeared by command. She glanced around, turning on her heels to look this way and that way. She still saw nothing. She contemplated calling out to this… beast… but decided against it. Let it show itself on its own accord.

A monster has come to give her the chills.

Crick!

Vaggie twirls to the left, and gasps. She backs up immediately, gawking at the large beast towering over her. She watched as it completely revealed itself to her.

Multiple limbs and tall as a Blue Holly,

Vaggie blinked in stupor. The… “monster” held up their four sets of hands in a defensive manner. “Aye, hold your tits, toots.” Vaggie couldn’t help grimacing at this fool. “Ugh, do not call me “toots”.” She said. The fellow demon huffed, and said, “Well, fuck else do I call yah?” Vaggie rolled her eye, lowering her guard some. “Just call me Captain, Fool. And who the hell would you be?” She asked. The man laughed a little. “The one and only, baby; Angel Dust, in the fur!” He puffed his chest out a little, readjusting and re-popping his collar. It was then that Vaggie noticed his particularly tight leather jacket, and the contrasting vividly pink fluff poking out of it. She scoffed, and laughed a little.

Ah, it would seem that this “monster” was simply a folly!

“No, no, I’ve never heard of a so-called Angel Dust.” She said. Her smirk grew wider as he becomes dumbfounded. He cleared his throat and scratched his head. “Bah, whatever. What’s a little bug like you doing in the woods anyway? Yah just askin’ to get squished, huh?” He asked, changing the subject. Vaggie blew a raspberry, dropping her guard to a bare minimum. At this point, she was no longer dealing with a terrifying beast --now, she was only dealing with a funny idiot in the woods.

“As if,” She said, “nothing’s gonna happen to me. I’d love to see anyone try! I do the squashing here, and the conquering.” Angel raises his eyebrows. “Conquering? You some sort of Lord or something, er… or, Lordess or Duchess or whatever?” Vaggie laughed. It was somewhat high-pitched and soft, and hilariously interrupted by the occasional little snort. Angel smiles at her dearly, unbeknownst to the young pirate. She cups her slightly burning cheek after having laughed so genuinely, and shook her head. “That’s stupid. Stupid, but hilarious, to be honest. But, no, I’m not a princess or anything like that.” Vaggie shrugs, leaning against a tree. She makes a face at the man, unaware of how sultry it looks. Or, at least to him it does, but that’s beside the point! “What about you, chump?” She asks. Angel snorts. “Chump? Doll, if I were you, I’d be careful who I’m talkin’ to!” Vaggie looks at him incredulously. “Oh?” She hums. “Oh, yeah, baby. I be royalty!” Angel is clearly oozing with pride, and Vaggie nonetheless rolls her eye at him. Doing this makes her glance at the moon in the split second, and then also to the neighboring planet where the angels dwell. The angels of heaven, that is. Regardless, Vaggie knows she can’t hang around any longer: she’s gonna have to go really soon. She looks back to the strange man before her, and she smiles a little. He’s slowing her down, that’s true… Still, this man is entertaining. In more ways than one, to boot.

“Royalty how?” She asks. Angel grins even wider, and bows. “Lord Dust to you, dame!” He stands, and Vaggie is genuinely surprised. “You’re a Lord? Like, seriously?” Seeing his smug expression never falter in the slightest, she figured it must be true, and gawked. “That’s… something!” Deciding to be a rascal, Vaggie pushes forward. “Hell, seems like everyone’s becoming some sort of Lord or Duke these days! When the hell am I going to get my own estate and stuff?” Angel huffs. “Whenever you marry royalty, I guess.” A moment of silence passes. Suddenly, the air is tense and stiff, and all that sense of comfort that was there before goes out the window.

“So, why are you in the woods? Like, really?” Angel asks again. Vaggie frowns. “It’s a long story…” she sighs. “I was supposed to get married, but it wasn’t exactly a choice I was able to make. More like, the princess just so happened to like me a lot, and took it upon herself to decide for me that I would marry her. Tomorrow! And so…” Vaggie took in a breath and let it all out in one long blow. “And so I decided to run. Run back to my ship, and back to my life!” Angel listened closely, and watches Vaggie kick a nearby pebble. “Ugh, and I bet she was taking that kind of advice from that stupid, son-of-a-tramp Lord Alastor!” Angel tensed up, and noticing this Vaggie frowned even further. “What’s wrong, hun?” She asks. She sounds truly concerned, and Angel was admittedly consoled by this. “Ah, yeah, so about that Alastor fellow? Well, I was supposed to marry him myself, but, ah…” Angel clicks his tongue. “Clearly, that ain’t work out as well as I thought it would. He only accepted my proposal because he and everyone else knew I’d boost his own merit. If we ever got around to joining our estates, he’d have the largest, and would control even more turf than he does now.” He admits. Angel then says, “So, as I think about it, I kinda ran, too. I didn’t want to become his fool, is all.” Angel looks off into the sky, staring at the dimension of Heaven with a distant look. Vaggie began to think. She wondered…

In the heart of the night, two bugs have met,

“Say, where are you going after this?” Vaggie asks. Angel is surprised at the sudden question.

A Moth and a Spider, running from lives of regret;

Angel smirks. “I dunno, probably to rob a bank or some shit, crash at that pussycat’s casino. Why?” Ah, he must be referring to Lord Husk. Vaggie chuckles, and offers a hand.

Then, the little ol’ moth proposed a bet:

“Come with me.”

Angel blushes at her request. “What… Huh?” He stutters. Angel’s smirk had melted from his face, and somehow appeared on Vaggie, who repeated, “Come with me. You said you were gonna rob a bank, right? Why waste your time with that, when you could sail the seas with me? I do things like that all the time —and more!” For a moment, Angel seems reluctant. “Ah, I dunno, I’ve still got an estate to man, and all my employees are stupid, so I can’t trust them for shit. Plus, who’s gonna make sure they do their job and not rob me blind anyway?” He wasn’t so sure about just up and leaving. But the little grey skinned beauty held her ground. “Maybe they will. But come with me, and you’ll have not an estate, but multiple, with workers of all kinds who’ll never think twice about what they do for you! You’ll have ships and towns, even cities dedicated to you! Angel Dust will be the name that makes those ol’ yellowbellys quiver in their panties!” Angel grins at the thought. That does sound inviting. “All that and even greater, you could have!” Vaggie says. She smiled warmly. “We could have it.”

“The Spider and Moth will rule the seas,”

Angel squeezes Vaggie’s hand softly. He brings it to his lips to kiss.

To this, of course, the Spider agrees.

Together they run until they reach the deck’s end,

For a long time they plan to never come again.

When the Princess and Lord will awake to dawn,

The Spider and Moth will be very long gone.

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I’m sorry this really wasn’t supposed to be this long but when you’re a writer at heart, four paragraphs become four pages so WHELP—

[the-low-priestess]

a rainy day with the six LI's

Asra

the shop gets less business than usual because of the weather, meaning more downtime for the two of you

there is absolutely some lapsang souchong involved. you brew two cups -- it's a precaution -- and retire to the bed upstairs

you cuddle up in bed and chat. usually Asra takes the lead, telling stories about his travels. sometimes the two of you discuss magic -- he answers your questions about magical fields you're less familiar with. sometimes you simply let the soothing ambience of the rain calm you to the core as you enjoy each other's presence. Asra never takes these moments for granted, not anymore

there's a good chance things get frisky (especially if you're the one who initiates it. Asra's very reciprocal), but just as much chance that the tea will make you sleepy enough that you doze off without meaning to

Nadia

takes the opportunity to cancel her appointments -- using the weather as an excuse -- to spend time with you while she can

immediately has a warm bath prepared for both of you. she sets aside her refusal to get pruny so she can relax and drink wine in your company. you massage each other, clean each other's skin, wash each other's hair, and help each other get into more comfortable clothes after drying off

there's a 50/50 chance of her either getting servants to pamper you (massages, skincare routines, etc.) or just taking the time to "get away from it all" and spend the rest of the day alone with you

in that case, both of you head up to her contemplation tower and each quietly attend to your own hobbies, striking up the occasional conversation. she creates some new trinket of "no consequence," possibly for Chandra, possibly for you, showing it off to you after she's finished. Chandra naps nearby, content to be out of the rain.

she shares some wine (or a non-alcoholic beverage of your choice, if that's your preference) with you out on the veranda. it's almost a guarantee that she'll want you in her lap, idly playing with your hair or caressing your skin

there's a high chance that the touching gets saucy. Nadia knows exactly how to get you going, and god, is she good at it. just a kiss and/or nibble on the neck and you're gone

I could keep going on I love Nadia so much

Julian

there is at least one (1) point where he drags you out to dance in the rain with him. partly because it's fun, partly so you can have an impromptu wet shirt contest. he declares you the winner, but only after embracing you with the wettest hug you've ever experienced

he tries not to keep you out for too long -- he's a doctor, after all. doesn't want you to catch a cold. he suggests that you take a warm bath. maybe together. you know, to save water. maybe share body heat afterward in bed. he knows these things, he's a doctor

you get some warm soup started after the bath (Mazelinka's recipe or Portia's? your choice) and Julian gets so wrapped up in telling stories about his exploits as a pirate and his very strange childhood that he almost forgets to drink his damn soup

when you finally get Julian to shut up and get in bed, he's colder than he lets on, so you spoon him close and tight. when he purrs in deep contentment, you can feel it against your chest. with full bellies, you pass out tangled in his gangly limbs

there is a point where you wake up from this nap, though. somehow among the tossing and turning of sleep, you've ended up atop him. he is wide awake and blushing like mad, averting your gaze. do I really have to point out the direction this goes in?

I do. you top the shit out of him. you top him so hard. he's not so cold after that

Muriel

you're probably chilling in the hut doing wizard shit when it starts raining, so you get giddy knowing that means Muriel will be back soon. you start a fire and (attempt to) strike a sexy pose on the rug in front

he arrives, merely raises an eyebrow at your performance, maybe cracks a bit of a smile, but you know he has kinda a low libido so you're not too surprised. regardless, he's thankful that you warmed the hut up for him and Inanna so they could dry off

it takes a moment of convincing, but you get him to lay down. propping yourself up on him (read: on his muscles), you narrate a book out loud for him while he absentmindedly occupies his hands whittling, sewing, carving, etc.

he tries to let on that he lets you read more for your sake, but his facial expressions betray that he does actually end up invested in whatever story you tell. over time, you've found that he enjoys more light-hearted stories, especially about animals. he blushes when you tease him about it

at some point, Muriel puts down whatever he's working on and wordlessly interrupts you with a light tug into his arms. despite how big he is, he's always gentle in his interactions, as if he's afraid to hurt you. he places your head underneath his chin and leaves a hand cupping the back of your head, fingers entwined in your hair. his other arm wraps around your waist to hold you close. you cut in to say he forgot something -- when he mutters a questioning grunt while looking down toward you, you steal a few kisses all over his face. wherever you can reach on it, really

the corners of his lips turn upward, he kisses you back once on the lips, once on the forehead, then squeezes you tighter and wastes no time drifting to sleep. between the rise and fall of his chest and the weight of his arm on top of you, you follow soon after

Portia

oh you better fucking know that the two of you are gonna be cooking together. soup, meat, pie, cake, cookies, bread, you name it, she's got a recipe for it. she's even told you that you get first pick

good luck getting her off of you. she's always physically affectionate, but it feels like the rain is making her even more so. no complaints from you, at least

skinny dipping might be involved while you wait for the food to cool. just maybe. in the event that it is, there is no chance in the world that she's letting your butt go untouched/unsmooched. really she's just gonna kiss all over your body

FEAST. you underestimated how much food you made, but also don't feel like wasting too much of it. you set aside what you can for Julian (Lord knows that boy needs to eat more) and lay the fuck down for a post-lunch siesta

when you wake up, Portia is wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of tea, admiring the rain through the window. she hands you another cup and you take a moment together to enjoy the sounds. after some silence, she talks a bit about how it reminds her of some rainy days together with Ilya, how different it was back then, how thankful she is to have found him in Vesuvia, how thankful the is to have found you. she trails off, blushing, and pulls you into a kiss. a long kiss. before you know it, the two of you are horizontal and she is straddling you, desperation clear with the hums you feel through her lips.

(;

Lucio

he is absolutely not letting you go outside when the weather is that bad. you are staying inside with him next to a roaring fire and in a huge cozy bed with servants to attend to your every whim

truth or dare is played. he calls you a pansy and a coward every time you choose truth, but his questions are mostly about what he can do to spoil you -- or your thoughts on different aspects of his personality

if at any point you have to leave the room without him, you can Count (get it? I'm funny) on him being in the nude when you return, possibly holding a white rose between his teeth

he will try to act like a hotshot in control of the situation, but the moment you stand up to him about it, he will back down and melt

after the sex, he brags about his war escapades when weather turned inclement, how they used it to their advantage, how cold the winters got. he stops abruptly, then turns in the bed to hold you. you prod him to continue, but he grumbles something incomprehensible about being too tired. so you drop it and drift to sleep alongside him, lulled by the crackling of the fireplace

[sweetcatmintea]

A Stranger’s Kindness

It’s Friday again! Thanks to @cawolters‘s flash fiction Friday prompts, I find myself looking forward to it all week XD  I hope you enjoy this late night drive! Feedback is appreciated ^u^

Prompt: Midnight Drive

Words: 1142 (Oh deer <.<;;)

Audio Version: Here Part: 2, 3, 4, 5

Characters: Stranger and Kid

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          I’m not a good person. I’ve never claimed the title. A con artist, a thief, a stain on the family tree. Not a good person. Now, I’m in trouble. 

          I’ve been driving for hours. My vision is blurring at the edges, eyes dry from the heat blasting through the car. Or was it the persistent wakefulness still staggering along from yesterday? I’ll have to stop soon. Pull over and try to catch a few winks. Sleep won’t come. Not until I’m safe, or at least, less exposed. Glancing at the passenger seat, the kid’s nodding off again. He’s been alternating dozing and sitting quietly, hands in his lap, trying not the be a hassle. It’s a bit late for that now kid. Does it count as kidnapping if they want to come? Whatever way you swing it, I stole a child. My mind’s wandering. I have to keep focus on the road.

          It’s got to be midnight by now. The clock in this old car is long dead. It looks like midnight. Like I’m driving into nothingness, following the white lines and hoping they take us where we need to go. There’s no-one else on the road. It’s been like that all night. I guess everyone else has somewhere to be and here’s not it. I bite into another piece of jerky. Saves me from worrying my gums. Terrible habit. It used to scare me, when I was little, seeing a lone set of headlights was always worse than seeing none. Even before I had reason to be, I was paranoid about being followed. The radio is on. No-one’s really listening. I keep an idle ear out for news reports but it’s mostly just awful country music. The tinny noise is really just a distraction. It’s barely louder than the gentle lull of the car. I don’t know what the kid is thinking about. I wonder if he regrets it. Is he scared I’m gonna take him to some backwater cabin and do away with him? Hack him into little pieces and scatter him in a river? I wouldn’t blame him. It’s not every day you’re stolen away by some strange person with nothing but their word ‘it’ll be better with me’. I sigh, drumming my fingers against the wheel. Reminding my hands to stay awake. The little vanilla air freshener sways, dancing around at every bump in the road. I’ve been meaning to replace it. It hasn’t smelled like vanilla since before the clock stopped.

          The kid shifts again, half trying to wake himself up, half trying to get comfortable enough not to. Radio light catches on the tiny scales smattered across his skin. Freckles, if you weren’t paying attention. His hair is stuck in every direction like a chestnut bird’s nest. Twin horn nubs poke beyond the mess. His shirt doesn’t fit well over the fleshy wings furled tightly to his back. Am I going to have to learn to sew? My coat covers him well enough, trailing after his heels as he walks, but how long is that going to last? Kids grow fast. My fingers drum faster. What have I gotten myself into? Even my own mother would laugh at the thought of me being a caretaker. There isn’t a parental bone in my body. I’d never have even seen him if I wasn’t casing his house for crying out loud! How’s a kid supposed to turn out decent if that’s their role model? I don’t know what I’m doing. This seemed like a good idea before. How things change. But, I couldn’t do nothing. If you’d seen what his folks were like … . I almost don’t notice how tightly I’ve clamped onto the steering wheel. One week. I was watching their house for one week and I couldn’t just leave it alone. Kids don’t get hurt that often. I have to consciously unclench my jaw. Last thing the kid needs is to wake up to see murder written across my face. Deep breath. Hold it. Slow release. I’ve heard about Tainted people. We all have. But a kid is just a kid. Worse, he was their kid. They weren’t just some negligent owners, they were his parents for gods’ sake. So, I took him. Very much a thief in the night, I broke in, picked him up, and left. They can keep all of their useless junk. They can rot with it for all I care. I thought he was going to scream, fight back, do anything you’d expect someone to do. He didn’t. Even though he was trembling, he didn’t make a fuss as I buckled him in, telling him I was going to make things better. Somehow, that made me feel worse. It should go without saying, but I’ve never stolen a child before. Cash, jewellery, priceless heirlooms, it’s all fair game. I left it all. Left it to sit in the car with someone else’s kid, my kid now, I guess, driving into the night. God damn me. 

          That was yesterday. I’ve only made a food stop since then. Hopefully the distance will be enough to keep everyone off our, now literal, tail. Honestly, I don’t even know if they’ll get the police involved. Horrible as it sounds, I hope they don’t care that much. Regardless, we should be okay. There’s no connection between me and them. Just chance that I took interest in their possessions. Even if my … endeavours are known, I’m no kidnapper. Well, I wasn’t. This is really just a one-time thing. Hopefully. No, I think we’ll be okay. I’ve got a little place by the coast. I’ll take him there until I can work out the next step.

          “STOP!”

          Breaks slam. I throw my arm out. He’s shoved back against the seat. The wheel punches my chest, acquainting my ribs with my lungs. The radio murmurs, indifferent. Curses and static play tag in my skull. When my mind catches up to my body, I look around. Piece together what the heck happened. Check the kid first. He seems okay. He catches my puzzled look, pointing a shaking finger into the darkness. I follow. Squinting as though that will make my night vision better. Black against black, a form shifts ahead, barely touched by the high beams. Its shape registers in increments. First the body, it may as well be a wall to my car. Then the legs. Then the head. A cow, of all things. It’d wandered straight onto the road. I would have never seen it in time. Heart hammering my chest and nerves appropriately shot, I restart the engine. I kind of feel like giggling. I do not. We crawl past the cow, finding a place to pull over. The adrenaline drains, leaving a shuddering tiredness. I think I can sleep now. Just a few hours.  

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Next week I’ve got exams Wednesday through Friday so I’m not sure I’ll have enough brain power to do the prompt, but I’ll certainly try! 

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Tag list

@inkovert, @snobbysnekboi, and @cawolters

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

A New World - Part 12

A/N: Thanks for being patient with me on this one! I think there are maybe two parts left and that will be a wrap! Also, a HUGE GINORMOUS THANK YOU to my wonderful friend @lefthologramdeer for helping me with a bit of character research for this chapter!! Love ya xoxo

Daryl Dixon x Reader, King Ezekiel x Reader, Grimes Family, this is getting crowded....

Warnings: Angst, Language, Violence, Canon-divergence, Character Death, 

Words: 4026

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11

Daryl felt his chest heaving. The flickering embers of rage that were lit when he pulled the chain from the walker’s neck had begun to engulf every part of him now. He was standing perfectly still, his eyes trained on Negan’s kneeling form as Paul held the gun to the man’s head.

He watched as Ezekiel walked Y/N back into the gates, and he knew they paused before continuing on to the house. He should have taken her himself, but right then, he needed to be there; to play this out with Negan.

Daryl glanced at her when she said his name, but he wasn’t ready to let things with Negan go. He couldn’t watch her walk away, so he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the man until he knew she was out of sight.

Pushing past Rick, Daryl stormed towards where Paul and Negan were still frozen in place. He kicked the fragments of Lucille as he strode past them, some of which reflected off Negan’s legs.

Negan saw Daryl began to charge at him. He tried to stand before Daryl crashed his full weight into him, knocking him back, and slamming his head into the ground. Pinning him down, Daryl held Negan’s chest firmly to the gravel with his knee as he pummeled the man’s face repeatedly and hard enough that the group that had gathered around the gates could hear the cracking of bones.

“Daryl!” Paul shouted and tried to pull the archer off Negan.

Daryl swatted him off like a fly, accidentally connecting an elbow to Paul’s face causing him to reel backward. In an instant, Rick and Glenn were running forward and using their combined force to remove Daryl from beating Negan to death.

Off to the side, Rosita was still on the ground and crying quietly now. Carl had the gun loosely pointed at her leg, but his full attention was on Daryl and Negan. Rosita tried to shift herself up, but Carl caught her from the corner of his eye.

“Don’t make me, Rosita. Please,” he said quietly. “This is bad enough as it is.”

As she slumped back down, a hand caught the back of her head before it could hit the ground. Michonne was there, slipping an arm around the woman’s shoulder’s and helping her to her feet.

Carl’s gaze flashed back and forth between Michonne helping Rosita, and Rick and Glenn trying to pry Daryl from a now very bloody Negan. Paul was back on his feet and aiding in the cause. The men were finally able to get Daryl to calm down enough to get back up on his feet.

He was breathing heavily, his knuckles broken and caked in a mix of his and Negan’s blood. Daryl’s hair was soaked with sweat, hanging lowly in his eyes as his gaze burned through the nearly lifeless body that laid on the ground.

“C’mon,” Rick nudged quietly, “you’ve done enough now.” Rick’s hand gripped Daryl’s shoulder, while his other tried to steer him back into the gates.

“He needs to die, Rick,” Daryl mumbled as he was guided back into the community.

“Yeah, I know,” Rick said moving through the crowd, “but you ain’t gonna do it with your own hands, brother. I ain’t gonna let you carry that.”

Paul and Glenn stayed behind to deal with Negan and Rosita. Michonne had the pregnant woman on her feet and didn’t take her gaze off her.

“You gonna keep staring at me like that?” Rosita hissed despite her precarious situation.

“Until I understand why you did what you did, yeah. Problem with that?” Michonne replied with little emotion.

Rolling her eyes, Rosita shook her head and didn’t resist when Michonne zip-tied her hands behind her back. “Let’s go, we have some talking to do.”

“I don’t have anything to say, Mich,” Rosita said flatly, her expression set in annoyance.

“Wasn’t talking to you… and don’t call me Mich,” Michonne spat and looked over to Carl. “I was talking to my son.”

Carl swallowed hard and nodded slightly in understanding. As Michonne walked Rosita passed the place where Negan’s body laid, she saw his fingers twitching.

“He’s alive! Hey, assholes!” Rosita wriggled in Michonne’s grip, “Rick! Glenn! He’s alive… help him!”

Glenn paused and slowly turned towards her. He cast a glance down to the ground and saw Negan’s head move sluggishly back and forth. Sighing, Glenn took a moment of consideration. He looked down at the broken fragments of Lucille and flashed back to all the heartbreak that it and its wielder brought to their group.

A gurgling groan from Negan was the push Glenn needed. “Tara! Eugene!” he called out towards the community, “Come help me,” the last part sounding frustrated and resigned to what needed to be done.

Twenty minutes later, Tara, Eugene, and Glenn had successful transferred Negan to the infirmary and got him comfortable. He had been swimming in and out of consciousness when Rick quietly walked in a bit later.

“How’s he doin’?” Rick asked, glancing between Glenn and Tara.

“He’s fine. He’s alive.” Tara said and shrugged, leaning back against the door frame.

“He’s not fine, Tara,” Glenn said, “he still isn’t completely conscious. I know Daryl beat the hell out of him, but he’s not responsive to much. I think he hit his head pretty hard on the ground.”

“He did,” Denise said walking into the room. She went about prepping the IV and setting the needle into Negan’s arm. They all stood silently scattered around the room as the doctor went about her business.

“So, I am fairly certain he’s got bleeding in his brain. We have a lot of equipment here, but we don’t have what we need to really know. Frankly,” she paused, casting a glance towards the bed, “he’s not worth the resources Rick.”

“We have to try,” Glenn said crossing his arms over his chest. “Regardless, we have to try.”

Everyone looked at Rick. Exhaling a deep breath, the Sheriff brought his fingers to his nose and closed his eyes. Lightly shaking his head back and forth, he looked back to Denise.

“We gotta try,” he said, also resigning himself to the same conclusion that Glenn had reached earlier.

“Alright then, you guys vacate, let me do what I need to and I’ll send for you when I know more,” Denise turned to grab some bandages and a suture kit from the metal table. She handed them out to Tara. “Take these and patch up Daryl’s hands. I saw them when coming back from the pantry. Pretty sure his one hand is broken, but you can at least sew up the cuts. I’ll set the hand when I’m done with this one.”

 Ezekiel pushed the steaming mug towards you despite refusing it the first time. Sitting on your couch with arms crossed over your chest, you leaned your head back against the cushions and closed your eyes.

“Please, drink it. You’re shaking, my lady,” Ezekiel leaned forward on his cane, covering the top with his hands and resting his chin on them.

“Zeke, you can drop the ‘my lady’ shit, ok? This is my living room, not the grand hall. I am just Y/N, and you’re just Zeke.”

Ezekiel chuckled and cocked his head in a nod. “As you wish. If you like I could go and get Daryl, see what’s taking him so long…”

“No.”

Looking at you curiously, Ezekiel sighed and sat back in the chair. “Y/N, I am not one to normally interfere in matters such as this, but, what Negan was saying…”

“What he was saying was just to try and rile Daryl up. Clearly, it worked.”

“Though justified, your reaction was extreme. In all the years we’ve come to know each other, I’ve never seen a violent streak, such as that, come from you.”

“Not the first time,” you said absently and closed your eyes at the memory of Robbie dead in the chair. “Negan just knows what buttons to push, and I let him.”

You sat up and took the mug, relishing the warmth of it on your hands. Sipping it gently, you curled your fingers around it and looked up at Ezekiel.

“I lied to Daryl. I didn’t tell him everything that happened when I was kept at Hilltop,” the confession slipped from your lips before you could even realize you’d meant it to. “Negan and Rosita had sex in front of me, then he had the intention of making me sleep with him while she watched.”

Glancing at Ezekiel, you felt your stomach sink at the look of horror that crossed his face. Having said out loud what really happened at Hilltop for the first time, you did your best to not cry. Holding back the dam as best you could, you continued.

“I don’t think he would have raped me. I think he wanted me to do it willingly. But if I didn’t, I do believe he would have used me to somehow hurt Daryl and Rick. Most likely kill me in front of them with that fucking bat.”

“But why lie to Daryl?”

“Because I didn’t want him to kill Negan,” you choked as your throat caught with tears, “and I didn’t want him to think…” the tears splashed down your cheeks and into the cup of tea.

Ezekiel stood from the chair and took the cup from your hands, and placed on the table as he took the seat beside you.

“Y/N, regardless of what happened, Daryl is the one you should be able to talk to. What you experienced at the hands of that degenerate is nothing short of horrific. Whether the act was committed—”

“It wasn’t,” you cut in sharply.

“Ok, good,” Ezekiel stressed as he gently rubbed a hand on your shoulders, “regardless… it was still a trauma. Being taken from your family, while your child was sick. Then having to see that happen, you need to be able to talk this out.”

“No,” you whispered, lifting your tear-streaked face to Ezekiel’s, “you don’t understand. What happened at the Hilltop, I just feel so guilty. I feel like I should have been able to stop it, stop him.”

“You’re overthinking this Y/N. You were trying to survive until an opening presented itself, and it did. You took it. You didn’t turn your back like Rosita did. You chose your family. You fought your way back to them. No guilt should be considered—”

“But what if—”

“No,” he said, cutting you off this time, “No. Guilt. Your act of bravery is what got you home. Yet, another act of bravery, here, tonight, is what brought the man to his knees once again.”

Ezekiel’s hand gently grabbed your chin and turned your face up to his. “Nothing to regret nor feel guilt for. You didn’t cower, you didn’t give in. You stood up and fought. It’s what you have done since the beginning and what we will all continue to do.”

A knock at the front door turned your attention from Ezekiel, “excuse me,” you said and stood from the couch.

Just as you were about to open the door, Paul pushed it open, his face drawn and worried. “You need to come with me, now.”

“Why, Paul? What happened?” you could feel the panic start to rise in your gut.

“It’s Daryl. He almost killed Negan.”

“He did what?” you asked, feeling a lump of anxiety settle in your throat.

“He beat him Y/N, nearly to death,” Paul said quietly looking at you and Ezekiel. “Rick and Glenn were able to pull him off. I tried but…” Paul shrugged, but you could see the bruise setting on his cheek.

“He do that?” you asked softly motioning towards his face.

“It wasn’t on purpose. I tried to stop him,” Paul smirked and winced slightly at the ache in his cheek, “my own fault.”

“Where is he now?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Rick walked him back inside and took him somewhere to cool off. Glenn and some of the others got Negan to the infirmary…”

“Infirmary? He’s still alive?”

“Yes,” Paul said not without a hint of hesitation. “You aren’t going t—”

“What? Go there? No. I don’t want to ever see his face again.”

“Y/N, maybe you should seek out Daryl. Speak with him and be sure he’s alright,” Ezekiel said and turning to Paul. “You and I can check on the Negan situation and discuss what happens next with the Sheriff.”

Paul nodded once in agreement. “I think he’s down by the lake. If not there, you can try Carol’s. I believe I saw Rick leading him towards her house.”

“Thank you,” you smiled gratefully, “thank you both.” Ezekiel offered you a slight bow before turning towards the steps, while Paul grabbed your hand and squeezed it.

“I’m not leaving just yet. Come find me if you need to talk, ok?”

You nodded and squeezed his hand back before releasing it. The two men left the porch and headed towards the infirmary while you went to seek out Daryl.

  You found him down by the lake, just as Paul had suggested. Daryl’s broad shoulders were silhouetted against the lights of the surrounding community. Smoke was rising around his head as he worked his way through a cigarette while staring out over the water.

Approaching cautiously, you made sure to make enough noise as to not startle him. Daryl cocked his head slightly and saw you from the corner of his eye.

“Rick send ya?” he asked, his voice rougher than usual.

“No.”

“Paul then,” he scoffed. “Guy’s always in our business.”

“Daryl…”

“What?” he turned to face you, his expression contorted into anger and disappointment.

“Are you okay? Your hand—” you went to reach for the bloody mess of knuckles, but he pulled it away sharply.

“Don’t,” he said, his eyes dark and still fueled by rage. “Just leave it.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Hit ‘em?”

“Yeah,” you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“What he said about you, you think I was just gonna let him say it?”

“He’s not worth you getting hurt, or what you carry with you if you kill him,” you reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

Daryl stepped forward, causing your hand to brush down his arm, falling away from his shirt. You knew he was angry, and that some of it was directed towards you.

“What do you want me to say, Daryl?”

He kept his back to you, but you could see his head hang slightly before he spoke again.

“I want you to tell me the shit he said ain’t true,” his voice was soft, yet still cold.

“I wish I could. But I can’t,” you sighed and closed your eyes for a brief moment. “Fine. You want to know… He made me watch him and Rosita have sex and then he wanted me to sleep with him,” you heard the words leave your mouth for the second time that night, and realized that no matter how many times you said it, it would never feel anything but shitty to have to say them.

“He walked around with his dick out, while I was tied to a chair. Ok? That’s what he did. He taunted me with food, he tried to get me turned on so I would sleep with him,” those were the words that finally made Daryl turn to face you.

“He did what?” Daryl growled, his broken hand trying to flex into a fist unsuccessfully.

“He had Rosita untie me and bring me to the bed. I created an opportunity to slip the knife from the boot to my sleeve. When he kissed me—"

“Kissed you?” he repeated, his eyes narrowed and somehow even angrier than before.

“Yes. That’s when I stabbed him in the neck,” you said, hoping he would take a moment to calm down before reacting.

“You let him kiss you?”

“Really? This is what you’re focusing on?” you said, unable to hide the annoyance in your tone. “With everything that’s been going on, this is what you decide to get pissed about?” You could hear your voice starting to get louder, but you didn’t care.

“Fine, you wanna know what I really wanna know?” Daryl’s anger was starting to come in your direction. The more fire he spat at you, the more defensive and upset you became.  

“Yeah, sure… bring it Dixon,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest again.

“Why the hell did’ya go there for in the first place?”

“I told you, to get the doc—”

“Right, ‘cause Abe had a fever. A fever?! You left them in a strange place ‘cause that boy had a fever.”

“Fuck you. Alright? Yeah, I went because THAT BOY, OUR BOY had a fuckin’ fever! Do you not remember the prison, Daryl? Remember what happened back then because of a fever?”

Daryl’s eyes flashed a pang of regret. Taking a step back, he began to fidget with his injured hand.

“So yeah, I went looking for the doctor. I honestly don’t know what else to say to you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you everything that happened. If you think it's easy for me to even think about, much less talk about…”

“Is that all of it?” Daryl asked quietly. You could see he was still angry, but his voice had quieted some and his body was less defensive.

You thought back to that night, and to when Negan grouped parts of you that were only meant for Daryl. He immediately read your face and knew that there was more. Shaking his head, he began to walk away before even giving you a chance to answer.

“Daryl!” you called after him.

“Nah, I can’t hear this right now,” he said as he started walking away towards the center of town.

“Daryl Dixon! Don’t you fucking walk away from me!” You screamed, this time loud enough to gain the attention of the others gathered outside of the infirmary.

Daryl turned and took a few steps back towards you.

“You don’t get to do that,” you said, tears starting to fall down your cheeks. “You weren’t the one this happened to. I have nothing to feel guilty about. I did what I thought was right for Abe by going there. And I did what I had to to get out of there. Fuck you for thinking that it was anything more than that because you’re angry I lied about it.”

Daryl went to speak, but you didn’t give me a chance to say anything.

“No. Don’t. Get the fuck over yourself, ok? Go deal with your shit and when you are ready to either talk this out or let this go, then you can come home. Otherwise, you can stay elsewhere for now.”

You stormed past him before he could say anything else, and right into Paul. Paul put his hands on your shoulders and forced you to face him. “Are you ok? What happened?”

“Will you please talk to this asshole? I can’t deal with him on top of everything else right now. Please Paul, maybe he will listen to you.”

You offered him the only smile you could muster and headed back in the direction of home.

  Outside of the infirmary Rick and Carl waited with Paul. When they heard the commotion down by the lake, Paul offered to go investigate while the other two waited for Michonne to return from the cell.

“She all secure?” Rick asked as his wife approached them.

“She is. All tucked in for the night,” Michonne replied and cast a look at Carl. “So, where do you want to start Carl? Because for the life of me I can’t even wrap my mind around what you were thinking going to Hilltop.”

“Mom, I’m sorry. I was trying to help,” Carl pleaded. “I thought I could get in and out without being seen.”

“Even so, why? Why would you risk it?” Michonne asked, her brow furrowed in frustration with his choices.

“It’s my fault,” Carl said quietly, hanging his head. “Maybe if I hadn’t been visiting him, he wouldn’t have thought he could turn some of our people against us.”

“Carl…” Rick started but then stopped. “What you did… visiting him, going to the Hilltop. I get it. I do. But it was still pretty dumb—”

“Dumb?” Michonne echoed and shook her head. “Dumb is an understatement. Carl, what you did could have gotten you killed. What then? You are the future of this place. You, Judith. Hershel, Abraham, and Shelby. You kids, you’re the future. You, specifically, Carl. You will run this place one day. I have no doubt about that. You’ll be as great a leader as your father. But, you have to know when to stop. Negan… he’s not worth it. Whatever he was filling your head with is garbage.”

“Not all of it,” Carl said quietly, sheepishly looking at Michonne. “Most of what he said was just to try and get me to turn on you,” his attention was now on Rick. “But some of it, dad… he was right.”

“Well then, maybe that’s something you and I should sit down and discuss when this craziness is over. I’m willing to listen to whatever you wanna say, but you gotta be willin’ to do the same.”

Carl nodded at looked back to Michonne. “So, how grounded am I?”

Drawing in a deep breath, Michonne passed a glance between her husband and son. “Compost duty for a month, plus more afternoons with Judith. And…” she said, pointing a finger at his chest. “If I find you anywhere near him again…”

“I know, I know…”

“Do you?” Michonne asked with her brows raised. “I mean it, Carl. Stay away from Negan.”

Carl sighed and threw a glance towards the infirmary. His mind was racing but he didn’t want to push his luck any further. Resigning to her wishes, he smiled at his mother and raised the Boy Scout salute. “I promise, mom. I’ll steer clear.”

  Denise was awake and at her small desk studying up on brain injuries when a soft knock came at the door around midnight. Cautiously, she slid back from her desk and made her way to the door. Cracking it open, she smiled at the familiar face and allowed them entrance to the infirmary.

Across the room Negan lay, still swimming in and out of consciousness. He was having a rare moment of semi-lucidity as he could hear the voices in the room talking softly.

“But what about Rick?”

“What about him?”

“This is a waste…”

“….not responsible…”

“Denise, all you have to do is leave fo…”

“…the blue button and then unplug—”

Negan fell back into the darkness of his condition for a few minutes as the conversation faded away. Somewhere in the distance, he heard a clicking sound and a door close softly. He had was starting to feel his head physically moving, and his eyes trying desperately to open.

Pain ripped through him as he struggled to move his head towards the new sound coming from his left. Negan tried to lift his hand as he saw the shadowed figure moving closer to him.

“Awake, huh?” the voice mumbled as it moved over and around him.

Negan could feel the wires and tubes of his IV being jostled around, but every time he tried to see what was happening, the pain was too much for him to bare. He settled his head and could feel the darkness swarming him again.

Just before he slipped away, he could feel someone close to his ear, their breath warm on his neck.

“I hope you enjoy Hell,” they whispered.

Negan went to try and speak, but the sharp pain in the back of his head where it hit the ground was replaced by the stabbing pain of the knife as it slid effortlessly into his temple and finally ending his reign of terror.

Tags: @kazosa @soythedemonqueen @jodiereedus22 @his-paradox @rhyatt-deauxtreve @zombeeemomeee @tiquismiquis @sorenmarie87 @redm81 @kingdixonreedus @reedusteinrambles @aquivercactus @buckyscrystalqueen @see-you-then-winchester @hyphymanatee @adixon13 @rawr-bitchess @kgbrenner @fictionaldemon @thewalkingbucky @bikerdaryldixon @lefthologramdeer  @youandyourstupidrope @addiction-survivor25  

[cupkayke]

11 Answers, 11 Questions

I got tagged by @nardaviel! <3

Rules: Always post the rules. Answer the questions asked, then write eleven new ones. Tag eleven people to answer your questions as well as the person who tagged you. 

1. what’s your favorite thing to do when you want to chill out and just enjoy yourself?

I’m so lame, it’s sleeping, mostly lol. I love naps like nothing else. As for hobbies, if I’m actively roleplaying with anyone it’s that, or relaxing and reading fanfics or watching Markiplier videos. Just hanging out by myself, really. (Tho cuddling the BF ranks on the list too lol)

2. describe the most beautiful thing you can think of or imagine

Object or concept? If we’re going with object... the perfect-fitting dream dress, heart shaped neckline, flowing skirt with iridescent colors that all blend into one another in varying shades of pinks, purples and blues... (idk I’m working on cosplay right now so all I’m thinking about is clothes). Concept? Coming home to your loved one(s), falling into an embrace and feeling that all is right with the world.

3. what is your favorite combination of colors?

Pink is my all-time favorite standalone, but I really like how royal blue and turquoise look together especially on clothing. 

4. tell us about an AU that you desperately want to make but haven’t been able to, for whatever reason (can’t think of a plot, your faves don’t work well in the setting, w/e)

;^; I actually don’t like AUs too much... I get attached to a world AND its characters, not just one or the other. That’s why I don’t particularly care for reading fics/doing rps that are set in an existing universe but using OCs or AUs. Now Alternate Reality/Slight Canon Divergence I can do- I love me some ‘what if X happened instead of Y’. So I guess I’ll go with an AR answer since it’s kind of AU...

I’d want to do an AR of Boueibu where the CA don’t leave and join the DC, either staying in their CA outfits or becoming Battle Lovers themselves to fight the VEPPer. Now that would be entertaining.

5. what does your phone case look like? did you go for style or sturdiness?

I work in cell phones, so I love me some cases lol I swap out cases so often it’s not even funny. When I had an iphone 6/6s I had something like 10-15 cases at one point but now I have a 7 for work so I don’t have as many  yet;

I have the first one I bought, a Speck hardshell with a purple/blue galaxy print on it. I got stuck with a black phone since it’s a work phone, so I wanted something that matched but was cute. The one I actually use at work is another Speck in turquoise with a slot for a credit card so I can keep my Target card on me at all times so I can buy lunch faster and not lose my card. The one I’m using right now because the Galaxy one is starting to deteriorate is a pink and navy otterbox symmetry that I got on clearance. I wanted the teal one but it was too light colored and was gonna get dirty too fast. All my cases are a blend of protection/function and style so...

6. what is your ideal hairstyle for yourself?

Just cut my hair again, actually; something short and easy to maintain with bangs to hide my forehead that I don’t like but cutesy. I always go with a chin-length bob with sideswept bangs when I cut my hair so... that’s it. 

7. what’s the first favorite song you can remember having?

The first song that I liked just for myself and not because my parents played it all the time was Blue (Da Ba Dee) by Eiffel 65. I fucking love them. 11-year-old me was all over that early 2000s electropop shit. Going back even earlier, though, I want to say it was Hey Hey (We’re the Monkees) or Last Train to Clarksville by the Monkees because my parents played their favorite music for me and my sister when we were really little and I’d dance to everything. I also really liked the Beatles and Kansas around that time but the Monkees pops into my head more easily.

8. what’s the grossest food anyone has ever tried to make you eat? (and did you eat it?)

OH GOD I’M SCARED OF TRYING NEW FOOD WHEN IT’S NOT MY IDEA. 

No, seriously, I actually cannot think of an answer to this question because I am so afraid that I’m not going to like something new/want to vomit when I try it that I actively avoid trying things when someone tries to shove a forkful of something in my face or encourages me to eat it. So any new food is gross. I get so pissed off when my bf or my parents do this because they KNOW I don’t like to try things unless I decide to do so, myself (because then I’ve mentally prepped and imagined what it tastes like and why it might be good) but they don’t understand my anxiety/aversion. They just think it’s a picky thing. It’s absolutely a ‘I am afraid of vomiting therefore I do not want to risk trying something that might make me gag especially in a public setting’. I don’t even have a strong gag reflex, I just have a texture thing and a phobia of vomit :/

I guess to phone in an answer- at the time cheesy potatoes were my worst enemy. I still don’t like cheese that much, but I’ve learned to like varieties of cheesy potatoes prepared well enough. 

9. would you rather never drink anything but water again, or never eat anything again besides the blandest, most boring necessities?

Ack, this is difficult. I suppose while I like water well enough I suppose I’d rather eat bland necessities because my palate is rather limited anyway and that’s kind of been my diet in general until recently when I’ve been experimenting with cooking. I don’t think I can live without soda or flavored carbonated water.... or alcohol. <.<

10. describe your dream home

Somewhere near an ocean where it’s cool enough that I can have the windows open to air out the house and somehow there are no bugs to fly inside. It’d smell like the ocean and i’d be able to hear it outside. The house would be big enough for my family but small enough that it isn’t too huge with lots of cozy living spaces, a game room, a huge sewing/craft room/office for me with more cozy seating while I work. It’d have a nice, well-stocked kitchen with a dining room close by surrounded by windows that look out at the sea. There’d be windows everywhere, basically, but all surrounded by thick, heavy curtains to draw when it gets dark. There’d be a screened-in patio with comfy deck furniture and maybe a minibar, that overlooks my own private pool (maybe an infinity pool!) and backyard oasis with lots of flowers and trees that mostly blocks anyone from seeing into the yard but has views of the ocean peeking through. The bedrooms would all be large enough and super comfy and my bed would be so, so soft and huge enough so I could fit my partner and several cats (and maybe a small, not smelly dog) comfortably. The master bath would be my own private sanctuary, with heated floors, some seating, a huge, gorgeous bathtub big enough for two people and a separate shower that has multiple heads. Y’know, rich people bathrooms. My pets would have everything they’d ever need (catios, lofty cat highways and lots of scratching posts and toys; a big enough side yard for the dogs to run around and maybe a built in doggy bath to get rid of dog smell lol). Oh, and the entire house would have one of those sweet Sonos sound systems so I could play music all day in each room. <3

That was long and specific...

11. i need u to come up with a brilliant, scathing insult that contains five words or less

Fuck... I can’t think of anything other than “Douchnozzle McCuntWhistle”. Its not scathing as much as it’s ridiculous but I love it.

NEW QUESTIONS:

1) If you could have any animal in the world (currently living or extinct) as your pet, what would it be and why?

2) If money were no object, what would your dream career be? 

3) How many hours of sleep would you get a night if you were free to sleep as much or as little as you wanted?

4) What’s more frustrating, having a great idea (for a fic, costume, song, presentation, anything) and being unable to produce it (either not having the means, motivation, funds, etc) or having all of your tools to create the thing at your disposal but not having any ideas?

5) Describe your favorite meal ever. Including dessert (if there is any).

6) What’s the most-used bookmark on your phone’s browser?

7) What chore do you absolutely hate and wish you would never have to do ever again?

8) It’s the end of your best day ever. What’s happening?

9) Would you rather go skydiving or climb to the top of mt. everest?

10) If you suddenly became rich beyond your wildest dreams, what would be the first thing you’d do with your money?

11) If you could master any skill on earth, regardless of what your current abilities are, what would it be and why?

Aaaaand I tag @magiccatprincess, @vashtijoy, @vagarius, @liarino, @angry-jewish-magical-girl, @cryptid-crusader, @metalliclioness, @amateurcatalyst, @thatlittledandere, @dazesprite and @nakedxtime <3

[incorrectfeaquotes]

Wowie u sew??? What a lucky duck! I've always wanted to get better in sewing but I'm so horrible at it. Do u have any tips for beginner seamstresses?

Oh boy do I.

Putting this under a read more cause this is basically Mod Sully’s stream of consciousness in regards to sewing:

Okay so, I kinda had an interesting time learning how to sew because I started with a broken sewing machine. Like, it couldn’t even sew for more than a few inches before it broke down. Total nightmare. Also when I began I had like the bare ass minimum of materials (regular scissors, a ruler, pencil). And it was a bitch to try to measure/hem/cut anything. So it was funny cause as I got better I also got better equipment. I actually redid some stuff for this year’s con and things came out sooooo much better.Granted, I’m still rather a novice myself (I didn’t start cosplaying until Junior year of college), but I’ll tell you some stuff I’ve been learning so you can benefit from my mistakes.

So here’s some of the Essentials that I’ve found to be super helpful:

Fabric Scissors. Trust me there’s a big difference between fabric scissors and regular ones. And once you have fabric ones, don’t use them for paper and stuff.

Water soluble fabric marker/pencil (I have a white one I usually use, then some blue chalk for white fabric. Don’t use pencil trust me on this one.)

Seam Ripper (super important. if you fuck up you can use this to take out the thread.)

Box of pins

Iron. Always iron your fabric before cutting or sewing. Also when using an iron, please test it on some of your scrap fabric first. You never know how it’s going to react to the material. This way you can find out what it can tolerate. I had some polyester-blend fabric that would get all gunked up somehow if I tried ironing it at too high a setting.

Masking tape (cause a lot of times you’ll need things to temporarily stick together and don’t want to get tape residue on it.)

Seam Gauge

X-Acto knife

Self-healing cutting board

Measuring tape (the tailor’s kind, not the construction worker kind)

Ruler, preferably see-through and a kind that won’t get cut into by an xacto knife

Test Fabric. I cannot stress this enough. I’m lucky cause I live in New York and we have an entire garment district full of fabric stores, but if you can find a Michael’s or a goodwill or something they’re also good places to check. In a fabric store you can usually find a discount bin with clearance fabric. You want to find something similar in consistency and stretchiness to your final fabric. I got some fabric for $3 a yard for my Foo Fighters test fabric.

One thing I’ve found particularly helpful is that you can get these little sewing kits at like Michael’s. I got one and have been using a lot of it to this day. It’s usually like a little pouch about half a foot long with some basics, like that little tomato you put pins in (which has come in handy for me) and some little spools of thread and a tape measure.

Not as essential but I’ve found to be lifesavers:

Drafting paper. This stuff is amazing for when you have to make your own patterns. I got like a huge roll for only five bucks, and it’s marked up in a grid in inches so it’s easier to make straight lines. Butcher paper works too.

Rotary cutter: For cutting long strips of fabric this saves me so much time and stress. Just be very careful not to cut yourself on it. It’s sharp! Also when you use a rotary cutter, have the cutting board underneath everything. Otherwise you’re gonna ruin whatever surface you’re cutting on top of.

So when I first started out it was with hand-sewing (the broken sewing machine wasn’t mine so I couldn’t always use it) which is a bitch a lotta the time. I mean, if you wanna do it I’m not gonna stop you. But I don’t really have any advice in this category cause all that time I just spent winging shit.

Okay so, Sewing Machine.

Some things that you definitely want a sewing machine to have are a Straight Stretch Stitch, Zigzag Stitch, and Overlock stitch (this is in place of a serger cause that’s like a whole nother machine it’s easier to just get a sewing machine with this thingy).

This is the sewing machine that I have. Again, only have a broken one to compare it to so I can’t really say if it’s better than most or not. I mean, I love it. Occasionally eats stretch fabric though if you’re sewing close to the edge of the fabric.

Also, when first starting out, don’t jump right away into your project. Get some scrap fabric and test out some of the stitching. Each one handles differently. And be careful to make sure you’re using the right foot and needle for the type of stitching (some need a twin needle and such.)

Stuff I’ve found useful:

In order to sew a straight line, you can use the Seam gauge to make some markers occasionally where the stitching is gonna go. Then, line the fabric up with the sewing machine (pay attention to where the needle is going to land. Always start sewing with the needle already dropped into the fabric). Take a piece of tape and place it alongside the edge of the fabric. Now when you’re sewing, just make sure that the paper stays right alongside that tape. Your line should be pretty straight! The gauge is just so you can occasionally look up and make sure you’re still goin the right way.

Also, if you put your needles in perpendicular to the direction you’ll be sewing, you don’t have to take the needles out as you go, you can just do that at the end!

I don’t know how other people do it, but when I have fabric that I’ve got to fold back to hem, what I do is put it on top of the pattern. The pattern should have the seam allowance on it marked. Then I stick a bunch of needles into it so the fabric and paper stay connected. Then, I use the rotary cutter/scissors to cut along the fabric so it matches up to the pattern’s shape. Then I take out the needles on one of the sides and start folding that side back to match up with the seam allowance, pinning a ton as I go so it holds in place, also putting some pins through into the paper too so it stays put for when I move to the other sides. This way you can make sure all your seam allowances are lined up!

If you want something to be symmetrical, make the pattern of just one half of it, then fold your fabric in half and pin it to the pattern. Once you’ve cut it out, if you unfold it it should be the full piece. This method also works for things like pants. Rather than cutting out both back legs at different times, you can just fold the fabric and cut through two layers to get two leg pieces.

Before you start sewing, make sure there’s enough thread in the bobbin. The bobbin’s the part with the string that goes inside the machine, rather than the spool of thread on the top (you use both). Sometimes you’ll be sewing a bunch of stuff and not notice the bobbin runs out, then you’re just left sewing completely unaware that nothing’s staying together and you gotta go back.

The sewing machine usually works with a pump. The harder you press down the faster it goes. Start out slow and then work your way to fast, but don’t go too fast cause then your sewing might get out of line if you’re not experienced with it.

Also keep an eye on where the fabric meets the needle and make sure the sewing machine continues to push the fabric forward. If it stays in one place, that means it’s stuck inside the machine. Fortunately with most sewing machines you can take the top part off that area and go inside and fish out the fabric. But there’s a good chance the fabric will be ruined.

Also, you will never have picked up all the needles. There are always going to be needles on the ground.

When you join two pieces of fabric together, make sure it’s on the side you’re going to have inside the clothing. In general just always make sure you’re sewing on the side you need to sew on.

Always cut a little bit more initially than you think you’ll need. You’ll narrow it down more when you get it over the pattern.

With stretch fabric, use either a zigzag stitch or straight stretch stitch. Also, if you attach stretch fabric to non-stretch fabric, it’s not gonna stretch anymore regardless of the stitch.

There’s a way to make it so that the stitching doesn’t show on the outside. It’s called facing, and I haven’t really mastered it yet. There’s tutorials for it online though.

If you have to sew designs to something, like letters or a patch, I’ve found that Heat n Bond works really well. It’s got this web stuff on the back that, while not permanent, keeps whatever you’re attaching stationary on the other fabric so you can sew it into place. When I do these things with stretchable fabric a straight stretch stitch is the best. You’ll have to go slow and also occasionally pick up the foot to slightly adjust the fabric for turns and such.

Also, since I’m doing cosplay I’m gonna reiterate something I remember reading a while back: Cosplay can be only two of these three things: Cheap, Fast, and Accurate. If you’re like me and want to go the Cheap and Accurate route, don’t be like me and start planning early. Don’t fall victim to Con Crunch.

Okay, that’s all I got for now, but if you got any other questions feel free to ask!