#ii big orange spoon

[sjokofelix]

freaks! :)

[steeltwigz]

I haven't seen a SINGLE II fan asking the REAL important questions. WHAT. does this mean for Inanimate Battle 🤨 Big Orange Spoon fans rise up

[fruitcoops]

omg eve would you ever consider doing one of those lie detector videos for the cubs? i just reread the coops one and it made me laugh so hard -aj

@oknutzyweek Prompt #3: Strategy II Risk! Cubs belong to @lumosinlove, and the first lie detector fic is here with Coops <3

Round #1: Basic Questions

“We’re back,” Finn singsonged, drumming on the table. The wires taped to his hands rattled, making the blue-shirted man by the polygraph wince.

Leo kneaded the bridge of his nose. “Why are you like this?”

“Because I get great joy from pushing your buttons.”

The man in blue raised his eyebrows. “True. Bold of you to admit that right off the bat.”

“Welcome to Lion Pride, please run while you still can,” Logan said around a laugh as he looked toward the camera. “I’m Logan Tremblay, and I’m here with my boyfriends Finn O’Hara and Leo Knut for a lie detector test. Mark is not only a polygraph expert but also a brave, brave man.”

“Would you consider yourselves good liars?” Mark asked.

“God no,” Finn huffed.

Leo shrugged. “I’m decent.”

“I really hate liars,” Logan said with a frown. “It never works well for anyone.”

“I like you,” Mark said appreciatively without looking away from his setup. “Ready?”

Finn leaned back in his chair with a grin. “Hit me.”

Logan whipped around and slammed his hand on the table, making them jump. “Did you eat my chocolate orange?”

“No!”

“False,” Mark said.

“I fucking knew it!”

Finn muttered a curse before turning to Logan with a silent plea in his eyes. “How can I make it up to you?”

Leo gave the camera an exasperated look while Logan took a moment to contemplate. “Un bisou sur ma joue.”

Finn glanced to Leo, who tapped his cheek; understanding dawned and Logan received his light kiss with a smile as well. “Forgiven?”

“Ouais.”

Leo shuffled his notecards in visible amusement. “Harzy, do you actually enjoy getting up early?”

“Kind of.”

“Yes or no,” Mark reminded him.

“…yes,” he said after a long moment, though he didn’t sound very sure. “Yeah, I do. I don’t like leaving bed early, but I like how much I can get done if I’m up.”

“True.”

A teasing smile flickered across Logan’s lips. “Should I grow my hair ou—”

“Please,” Finn said before he could finish. “Yes, yup, 100% you should grow your hair out.”

Mark snorted. “I don’t think I even have to tell you that’s true.”

Leo batted his lashes, leaning closer to Finn with an innocent smile. “Last question. Did you honestly forget to pick up my spices at the store or did you do it on purpose because you don’t like spicy food there is a correct answer here and you are not subtle.”

Finn blanched. On his other side, Mark had to turn away slightly to stifle his laughter. “I…”

“Go on,” Leo prompted as Logan’s grin grew wider.

“Yes,” Finn sighed, defeated. “Though I did go back and get them later.”

“That’s true,” Mark confirmed.

“Alright, shift change.” Leo helped him peel the sticky pads off and swapped spots, settling into the chair before folding both hands on the table. “Shoot.”

“Have you worn your Invisalign at all this week?”

“God damn it, O’Hara,” he said under his breath as Finn and Logan burst out laughing. “No, I have not, and fuck you for pointing it out!”

Mark nodded. “True.”

Logan’s chair creaked when he lounged back in it. “Do you like being the big spoon or little spoon more?”

“Hmm, big spoon.”

“Unclear,” Mark said, squinting at the screen. “Not the whole truth, but not a lie.”

Leo furrowed his brows in confusion. “I mean, I still like being the little spoon. The middle is obviously the best.”

“True.”

Logan nodded. “Can confirm. Do you think you’re the most handsome of the three of us?”

“No.”

“That’s also true,” Mark agreed.

Finn whistled lowly, his interest piqued. “Zero hesitation. Okay, followup: who do you think is the most handsome of the three of us?”

“Neither of you need to know that information,” Leo laughed.

“Would you rather…” Logan paused, raising his eyebrows with a small kick to Leo’s shin. “Spend the day with us, or Regulus?”

“Can I spend multiple days with Regulus instead of you?”

“Hey!” Finn said indignantly, straightening as Leo snickered. “Regulus doesn’t make you coffee! Regulus doesn’t cuddle you!”

“Reg is more fun than the two of you combined.”

The corner of Mark’s mouth quirked up. “False.”

“Man, c’mon,” Leo complained as Finn and Logan turned for a double high-five. “I’m trying to control the ego in this room. I have a strategy.”

“You love us too much for strategies,” Logan said, grinning and smug.

“Final Knutty question: should the three of us get matching tattoos?”

Leo thought for a moment, tilting his head from side to side. “Yeah, I think it would be cute. Something cringey and couple-y. Throuple-y?”

“I’m not going to bother with deciding terminology, but he was telling the truth,” Mark said, dutifully moving aside as Leo and Logan switched seats and equipment. “Ready?”

Despite the answering “ouais”, Logan looked distinctly uncomfortable. Finn tapped his notecards on the table. “Logan Marius Tremblay, where is my Harvard hat?”

Logan carefully schooled his face into neutrality. “Probably in your closet.”

“That’s a lie,” Mark said.

“Did you leave it in one of the cabinets?”

“Nope.”

Finn kept his eyes fixed on Logan; the only sign Logan even noticed was a slight twitch of his fingertips. “Then I have no idea.”

“He’s still lying.”

“You’re getting that hat back over my dead body.”

“Or,” Leo said mildly, kicking his feet up on the lowest rung of Finn’s chair. “You could, you know, check the one hiding place Logan has. The singular place in our entire apartment.”

“You are not endearing yourself here, mon amour.”

A soft kiss to the back of his hand brought a faint blush to Logan’s stoic face and Leo grinned. “Do you wish I could grow a playoff beard?”

That got a real laugh out of Logan, cracking the façade as his eyes crinkled. “Non, but I do think it’s very funny that you’re still out of luck.”

Mark nodded while Leo rolled his eyes. “True.”

“Which of us is the cleaner roommate?”

“Oh, god,” Logan muttered, propping his chin in his hand as he thought. “I don’t know. Are we talking about actual cleaning, or organizing?”

“Cleaning.”

“Then it’s Finn.”

“He’s telling the truth.”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “Am I more organized?”

“Finn had the same set of organizing bins under his bed for four years and they were in the same packaging, untouched, that entire time. You color code your calendar. So, yes.”

Round #2: Personal Questions

“Starting off strong for this one,” Leo warned. “Do you approve of your brother’s partners?”

“Yes,” Finn answered immediately.

“That’s true,” Mark confirmed.

Logan cast a mischievous look at the camera before reading his next notecard. “Which of us—Leo and I—has better taste in music.”

“Fuck,” Finn said under his breath with great feeling.

“There will be no adverse side effects to your answer,” Leo promised with an expression that said the exact opposite. “Though I advise you to keep in mind that I’m making dinner tonight.”

“That so deserves a penalty.” Finn pushed a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck, then blew out a breath. “Oh, god, I can’t pick.”

“False.”

He groaned, loud enough that Leo and Logan turned to each other with matching devilish smiles. “Fuck. Okay. Logan has better music, but only because I really don’t like most country songs.”

“True.”

“Strike one,” Leo coughed, making Finn’s brows pitch in distress.

“I���ll give you a softball here,” Logan promised. “Do you think you’re the most impulsive of the three of us?”

“Nope.”

Mark made a noise of surprise. “True.”

A spark of curiosity lit on Leo’s face. “Who is the most impulsive?”

“You, obviously.”

“Also true.”

“Wow.” Leo nodded slowly, leaning back in his chair. “I would’ve gone with Mr. ‘Serial Kiss and Ditch’, but alright.”

“Mr. Serial Kiss and Ditch didn’t join the NHL at 18 or eat a whole chili pepper a millisecond after someone told him not to, but okay,” Logan snorted.

The seat swap went quicker than before—they were all getting into the swing of it, and within moments Leo had gotten comfortable in the chair despite the chest band and wires to the polygraph. His soft smile vanished the moment Finn asked the first question. “Which of our siblings do you like better?”

“Aw, shit, really?” Leo let out an unhappy huff and his forehead creased. “I don’t know Sydney and Aubrey that well, and I don’t think Alex likes me very much after last game, so…I guess Noelle wins.”

The polygraph made a quiet ticking noise. “True.”

“She adores you, so it’s a mutual feeling,” Logan assured him. “Tougher question: which of your parents do you like more?”

“Why did Harzy get all the easy ones?” he complained. “That’s so unfair. I don’t have a favorite.”

Mark cocked a brow. “False.”

“Dude.” Leo thought for another moment, then shook his head. “Not answering that. Too risky. Next question.”

“Can I answer that one for him?” Finn teased. “Okay, last one for this set: are you happy on the Lions?”

Leo’s distress faded away; his honesty was written all over his face. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been with this team.”

“That’s true. Glad to hear it.”

Logan dropped a kiss to the top of his head while Leo detached the polygraph measures and ran an absent hand across his upper back before they switched seats. Finn watched them with a small smile, his eyes warm and bright behind his glasses. “Is this the last section?”

“There’s one more after this for extremely personal questions.” Logan scrunched his nose in distaste before nodding to Finn. “Did you hang your towel up this morning after you took a shower?”

“Yes.”

“False.”

“Mark, I really need at least one person on my side here.”

Leo grinned. “Do you like your sisters better than us?”

“Right now? Yes.”

Mark frowned. “Another one in the middle. Try to be firm.”

“I like them equally, for different reasons.”

“Do you have a favorite sister?”

“I like my sisters more than you.”

“Now it’s true,” Mark chuckled as Leo stuck his tongue out.

“This is vengeance for the music question,” Finn informed him. “Do you like the Dumais better than your Canada family?”

“My Canada family?” Logan laughed. “All of us are Canadian.”

“Hey, whatever works best.”

Logan shook his head, though he looked more amused than anything. “No, I think my parents and sisters take the cake here, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the Dumais, or that I’m not grateful for them all the time.”

Round #3: Extremely Personal Questions

“Do you think I’m too young for you?”

“Jesus!” Finn spluttered, turning to Leo with wide eyes. “What? No. Is that really what you’re opening with?”

Leo shrugged. “Figured we’d get it out of the way before people start bugging us in the comments.”

“No, I don’t think a four and a half year age difference makes you too young for me. I also think you’re mature enough to make your own reasonable decisions about who you date.”

“He’s definitely telling the truth,” Mark confirmed.

Logan nudged Finn’s foot under the table. “Which of us is nicer?”

“Knutty.”

“True.”

“But you can both be real assholes sometimes.”

Mark stifled a laugh. “Also true.”

“This is the most personal one yet, and possibly the most dangerous.” Leo set his elbows on the table and looked Finn dead in the eye. “Who makes better coffee, me or Logan?”

“You both make terrible coffee, which is why you have me.”

“That’s true.”

Logan scowled. “You love my coffee!”

“Sure, if I need to be awake for 36 straight hours,” Finn snorted. “And Nutter Butter, I love you, but water that has briefly looked at a coffee bean doesn’t count.”

“Oh, give me that,” Leo grumbled, tugging on one of the wires trailing from Finn’s hand. Finn gave his hips a playful squeeze when he stood to shuffle behind Leo and take his seat, and earned himself a light whack on the chest in return.

Logan cleared his throat, barely holding down a laugh. “In the two years you’ve been on the Lions, have you seen every player naked?”

Leo did a double take, then hesitated and tilted his head to the side. “You know, I—hmm.”

“Oh, wow, you’re really thinking about this.”

“I’m trying to be honest!” He bit his lower lip. “Uh, no, I haven’t.”

“That’s a lie.”

“Fuck, when did I see—” He stopped with a snort, covering his mouth with one hand. “Nope, I definitely have. It’s not something I think about much, to be honest.”

“That’s true.”

“Do you actually have insomnia…” Finn paused for effect and Leo gave him an incredulous look. “…or do you just like it when Lo rubs your back?”

“I have chronic insomnia and also like it when my boyfriend rubs my back. They’re not mutually exclusive. You of all people should know the benefits of not making black and white decisions.”

“That’s fair, I’ve never chosen anything in my life, ever,” Finn agreed.

“Blondie was telling the truth,” Mark said as the polygraph whirred.

Blondie, Logan mouthed, making Leo blush before he read the last question. “Do you want a house in the next five years, or are you happy in the apartment?”

“I love our apartment but I want a house in the next one year, preferably,” Leo laughed. “We don’t have enough space and the shower is too short for me.”

“He’s telling the truth.”

Logan’s lips ticked up at the side. “Well, maybe that wouldn’t be a problem if you weren’t a fucking giant.”

“And maybe you’d understand better if you weren’t microscopic, shortcake.” Logan’s mouth fell open at the icy coolness of Leo’s voice and Finn looked between them like he was watching a particularly intense tennis match. Leo grinned. “Batter up.”

“Shortcake,” Logan muttered while he stuck the sensors on. “Was that necessary?”

“All I want is a shower where I don’t have to bend down so far,” Leo said simply, though impish mischief settled in every plane of his face. “Ready to close us out?”

“Ouais.”

“Do you think the fans have make incorrect assumptions about us?”

“The mean ones? Yes. The nice ones? Also yes.”

Mark nodded. “That’s true.”

“How so?”

Logan considered for a few seconds before speaking. “Obviously the mean ones have shit to say about our relationship, and at this point I just tune them out. But the nice ones think I’m a lot more of an asshole than I am, think you’re chasing butterflies and rainbows all day, and give Harzy no credit for being the smartest of all of us.”

“He’s telling the truth.”

“I don’t know about the smartest of all of us,” Finn said, though his ears were pink at the tips.

Logan leveled him with a look. “Harz, you graduated on the Harvard Dean’s List and your senior thesis was published in a literary journal.”

“Tons of people get published—”

“Senior thesis,” Logan interrupted. “In a literary journal that won an award. This is not the time to be humble.”

The pink had spread to Finn’s cheeks and neck. “Can I ask the next question, or do you want to go stand on the roof with a megaphone?”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“You’ve been living with Knutty and I for almost a full year,” Finn continued, shaking his head. “Do you actually enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

“True.”

“Do you think our relationship will last?”

Leo’s question hung in the air for several seconds despite his quiet voice; Logan blinked. He looked down at his hands, then back up again. "Well, yeah. It better, or else I’m in big trouble if I want to find anyone that comes even close to you two.”

“That’s very true,” Mark said, watching the polygraph lines trace their course. “Heartfelt, for sure.”

Logan half-smiled and inclined his head to his boys. “I spent eight years loving one of them and plan to spend many more loving both. That’s about as heartfelt as it gets. See you later, Lions. Stay honest.”

[esther-dot]

The blood oranges have appeared many times in books. Arya throwing blood orange on Sansa staining her hand and Sansa dress, blood oranges falling on water garden,Doran eating half ripe blood orange, LF and Alayne eating blood orange, Cersei and Tommen having breakfast eating blood oranges. What exactly blood orange fruit symbolised?

I'm going to focus on the Sansa scene first. I think the big takeaway is the ivory dress being stained red. As in, bloodied innocents. I mentioned in this post that Sansa is directly tied into the idea of the innocent/the smallfolk suffering during war, so that’s the first thing that comes to mind. And, she is physically abused later, so this imagery becomes reality in that way.

Another way of looking at it is a picture of her journey. Her story involves the very deliberate unraveling of her naivete, her innocence, her understanding of the world, so this scene is evocative of her experience as a whole.

Think about this moment:

The young knight in the blue cloak was nothing to her, some stranger from the Vale of Arryn whose name she had forgotten as soon as she heard it. And now the world would forget his name too, Sansa realized; there would be no songs sung for him. That was sad.

After they carried off the body, a boy with a spade ran onto the field and shoveled dirt over the spot where he had fallen, to cover up the blood. Then the jousts resumed. (AGOT, Sansa II)

There is an ugly reality to what the songs don’t include, the brutality of her world, that destruction of life, is covered over in front of her literally, and it’s simultaneously being pointed out to the reader that all of that has also been figuratively hidden away by songs/stories which romanticize everything. Just as the blood of a man is covered over above, Sansa does a similar thing to her dress when she later dyes it.

Her gown was the ivory silk that the queen had given her, the one Arya had ruined, but she'd had them dye it black and you couldn't see the stain at all. (AGOT, Sansa V)

There’s a whole motif of covering up blood/violence (talk about that and cloaks some here). From the crimson cloak to hide the blood of Elia’s children, to the cloaks draped over Sansa after she’s abused, to how she tries to hide her bruises and look pretty in KL….it goes on and on. The ugliness must be hidden away. It’s the contrast between innocence and violence, purity and guilt.

So, I think one interpretation is that blood oranges represent exactly what you'd expect: blood, violence. Sansa is always on the receiving end of that which makes this instruction on how to eat a blood orange very interesting:

"Did I say that?" Lord Petyr cut the blood orange in two with his dagger and offered half to Sansa. "The lads are far too treacherous to be part of any such scheme . . . and Osmund has become especially unreliable since he joined the Kingsguard. That white cloak does things to a man, I find. Even a man like him." He tilted his chin back and squeezed the blood orange, so the juice ran down into his mouth. "I love the juice but I loathe the sticky fingers," he complained, wiping his hands. "Clean hands, Sansa. Whatever you do, make certain your hands are clean."

Sansa spooned up some juice from her own orange. "But if it wasn't the Kettleblacks and it wasn't Ser Dontos . . . you weren't even in the city, and it couldn't have been Tyrion . . ." (ASOS, Sansa VI)

So, I assume this foreshadows when Sansa will engage in a little violence herself and oversee LF’s comeuppance, his death, but does it ever so neatly, no sticky fingers, just as he would have wanted. 😇

I think this interpretation of blood oranges makes these quotes pretty self explanatory:

But there are other ways to interpret them, and we can take a totally different angle and think of the fruit itself and the (remote?) possibility that it relates to Sansa specifically.

(via wikipedia)

Sansa’s rise to political power may not happen until after the Long Night, but whether it’s before or after, this idea of moderate temperature necessary for ripening strikes me as a reference to Sansa’s journey. While heartbreaking to read at times, it doesn’t involve the fantasy elements/thrilling adventures that other characters experience. It isn’t as exciting or extreme, instead, it’s moderate. She’s dealing with people and politics, and her story is unassuming as is her character. She is on a slow climb to understanding, maturation, power. This actually ties into that first scene because Sansa symbolically receives a “third eye” ie knowledge.

I have several more takes in the works because I think the imagery of that initial scene in which there is juice that looks like blood dripping down Sansa’s face is deliberate as tears of blood is mentioned many times in the series. There is also much more to be said about the colors of the oranges, but all of that takes me far afield, so I’ll save the rest for follow-up posts. I’ll write them this time, really! 😬

Thank you for the message, anon!

[bestdjkit]

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from Best DJ Kit https://edm.com/news/odesza-swedish-house-mafia-rufus-du-sol-tickets-live-nation-concert-week

[maryniss]

The Match Is Still Going

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Summary:  2 times Chuuya dyed Dazai's hair and one time he didn't.

Relationships: Dazai Osamu/Chuuya Nakahara

Characters: Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara

Tags: Fluff; Kinda?; idk - Freeform; 5 Times; its actually three times; 2 times + one bonus cause i had no idea; Hair Dyeing

Notes:  this. i wanted to finish this for so long. but now the fic is here and im not really proud of it. but it s ok cause yeah. idk. enjoy anyway byebye i.

 i.

Chuuya decided to dye Dazai the second that insufferable man dared to make fun of Chuuya’s hair color. That meaning Chuuya decided to dye Dazai thirty minutes after meeting him.

Knowing him now, he was surprised that he didn’t say anything earlier. But, as fifteen year-old Chuuya was sneaking into his new partner’s apartment -soundlessly, not that it mattered, ‘cause Dazai was sleeping like he was dead (some people’ wishes just can’t come true)

Chuuya snickered under his breath as he tip-toed into Dazai’s bedroom. The brown-haired man (not for long, though) was snoring loudly and the only thing Chuuya could think about was that ad he had seen on TV, about how to stop your husband from snoring excessively, or something like that. It was probably an ad for nose spray.

           Verixil! And all the problems are gone! Sleep tight!

Chuuya shook his head and he looked at the objects in his hands. A tube of red hair dye, a brush and a towel. Did he know what to do with those?

No.

Did that stop him?

Also no.

Chuuya opened the lid of the tube and he poured some substance into his gloved hands (plastic hands, of course, he would never ruin his gloves only for that) and as he squeezed hard, the tube made a sound like a fart and Chuuya stopped. Dazai didn’t even react, but the redhead was tense and his didn’t breathe, waiting for something to happen.

Nothing did, so he just poured some more and then he took a wavy strand of Dazai’s hair and scrubbed the dye onto it until it was slick. He did two more strands and then he got bored and just put the whole thing onto Dazai’s scalp, not caring what the dyes was going to stain.

He then left and closed the door behind him, going to bed in his own apartment.

He slept well and he woke up even better. Dazai was screaming and he was trying to wash his hair, to make the ugly, neon orange color go away. Chuuya rolled on the floor with laughter and his sides started to hurt. The dye was spread uneven and parts of Dazai’s hair had now the color of poop.

He won this time.

1-0  for Chuuya.

***

Actually, let’s make that 1-1 because Dazai also dyed Chuuya’s hair purple the very next night and there were no words to describe how ugly it looked. Even if there were none, Dazai still found some and Chuuya also found words to describe how ugly Dazai looked.

Koyo took a photo, even neither of them wanted to.

They still keep the phot in their drawer. None of them admits it.

***

ii.                                  

Chuuya was walking down the street and he was in a bad mood. No particular reason. He just felt down and he didn’t have any plans to even try to make himself look happy. What was the point? There was no one who cared anyways. It had been like that since he was little. And then there was a period when there really was someone who asked if he was ok; if he said he was not, then that someone would just nod and walk away. But, it was something…

Chuuya stopped and he looked at the barber on the other side of the road. A slim and tall silhouette disappeared inside right before Chuuya could actually tell that it was Dazai. The redhead rolled his eyes (out of habit) and he tucked his hands in his pockets and continued to walk. He wanted that coffee right now or he felt he would die. A common feeling that Chuuya was sick of. The coffee was going to solve everything…

His feet did not take him to the closest café, instead he entered the barber shop. The bell rang, but Dazai didn’t even bat an eye.

“So only a quick cut, right?” asked the barber, a small man wearing thick glasses, their lenses yellow. He was smiling and the air around him was cheer-full.

“Yeah, only a quick cut, and if you could show me how to make a hole through my skull painlessly while you are there, it would be great.

A French melody started playing and Chuuya rolled his eyes and smiled. The room was quiet but Dazai was practically radiating and the barber looked at him with an uncertain look.

“Uhm, I guess I could? But not painlessly, though.” Dazai sighed and closed his eyes.

“No, it’s ok. I’ll try elsewhere.” Both of them seemed to forget that Chuuya was there. But, suddenly, the hairdresser looked up and he was probably on his way to say “Can I help you?”, but Chuuya quickly put a finger to his lips and the man shut his mouth.

The people that just entered were dangerous; he could feel it. So, he just did what everyone would do: “I am going to bring my scissors and we can start.” Dazai didn’t say anything.

The man run to another room and closed the door. Chuuya lifted himself up a little bit and floated where Dazai was, looking in the mirror in front of him

He could now recognize the melody that was playing? How could he not? It was `La vie en rose` by Edith Piaf. Koyo was obsessed with this one some time ago when she was dumped by a cute barista from the coffee shop across the Port Mafia’s office.

Dazai’s eyes were closed and he seemed to be sleeping. Chuuya looked around and then he saw it: a botte full of a light-green hair dye, looking very much like wasabi. He didn’t hesitate and he took a spoonful of it.

Dazai snored. Chuuya put the substance gently onto Dazai’s scalp and spread it with his fingers. The brown-haired man (whose hair color was once red and also poop-like) opened his eyes and looked up at Chuuya.

They both stared into each other’s eyes for twenty-three seconds. Chuuya had counted it. He then smiled and left, Dazai looking dumfounded. He then looked into the mirror and saw the mess on his hair or that his hair was. He sat up quickly and went after Chuuya.

But the redhead was gone. And “La vie en rose” was pouring on the street and in the hot summer day and it seemed somewhat romantic.

Dazai would kill Chuuya the next time he would see him. There was no other chance now for the small man; he was obliged to commit a double suicide with Dazai.

2-1 for Chuuya.

 iii.

Because Chuuya knew Dazai. That’s why he didn’t respond all of his messages that begged him to come over. Because he knew that Dazai was probably drunk.

What he didn’t expect was for Dazai to actually come to his apartment, knocking insistently at his door and shouting some nonsense. Chuuya tried to ignore him, but he forgot one crucial detail: he did give Dazai a copy of his keys, so, when Dazai entered in the bathroom where Chuuya was soaking in the tub, drinking some wine, the only thing the small man could do was to curse at his foolishness.

He shouted and cursed and almost spilled the wine, but Dazai didn’t move: he only sat there with a big smile plastered onto his doll face, and Chuuya was creeped out of his mind. He could only ignore him and that’s what he did.

It had been a hard day in the Port Mafia, ok? That’s why he fell asleep in the bath tub, with Dazai watching him intently.

He let his guard down and when he woke up, the apartment was empty. But his hair was a wonderful, delicate, simply beautiful, what more could we say, tone of blue, only strands of it still being that red Chuuya was so proud of.

***

Only later did he find the photo of them when they were smaller, glued to his bathroom mirror. He smiled and he when he flipped it over, he saw only saw a ‘2-2’.

If you look at it from another point, it could mean something else; Chuuya knew and his heart let itself sink in that sensation for a bit.            

2-2 and match is still going.

They are still chasing after each other, trying to always be the best. Both of them know that they are unstoppable when they are together. They knew and they didn’t care because in their world, that is smaller than it seems, the arbiter hadn’t blown in the whistle yet.

  Notes:  Cause they love each other duh please stop being so dumb

[blacksurvivalnostalgichanges]

immortal soul:black survival characters as john mulaney

dunno how i didn’t think of that before but

Adela: Hmm, we’re not so different, you and I. You have your law practice, and me, I have all these fuckin’ markers.

Adriana: Well here goes nothing. You ever seen a ghost?

Alex: A lot of people think that you like bulls, and if you just buh- They assume it! When you search your name, the third thing to come up is like “John Mulaney bull?”

Arda: Or if it’s one of those true or false questions, you should be able to add a third option which is “who’s to say?”.

Aya: “So you saw what happened and you did nothing?” “Yeah, ‘cause I was sitting over on the bench.” “Let me ask you this. In Nazi Germany....”

Barbara:It’s just dads, singing so loud, thinking that’ll somehow get their kids to sing.

Bernice: Let’s change the subject! Why are we even talking about Penelope, or whatever her name was? I didn’t kill her! Whoever did kill her only did it to protect her from this world!

Bianca: Remember the Psalms? They’re not songs, ‘cause they don’t rhyme and they’re not good. They’re perfectly named.

Camilo:He’s played for stadiums of 20000 people cheering to him like he’s a god, for fifty years. That must change you as a person. If you do that for fifty years you’re never again going to be like “Uhmmm, does anyone have a laptop charger I could borrow...?”

Cathy:That guy will get up there and sing into the microphone. He’s not a singer, ‘cause he’s not good at it, but he tries.

Chiara: Now I was raised Catholic. I don’t know if you can tell that from the everything about me.

Chloe: Every room she walked into, she’d be like, “So this could be an office. (shakes shoulders) Or maybe a nursery.”

Daniel: I think he was just doing that dad thing of like, “This is a weird topic and I want to talk about a book I read about World War II”. But the way it came off was that he definitely killed that little girl!

Echion:Sometimes babies will point at me, and I don’t care for that shit at all.

Eleven:Famous people are weird as shit. They’re all weird, your suspicions are correct.

Eva:Marty McFly is a 17-year-old student, whose best friend is a disgraced nuclear physicist. And, I shit you not, they never explain how they became friends. They never explain it. Not even in a lazy way like, “Hey, remember when we met in that science building?”. They don’t even do that.

Emma:My dad was so weird, I’d love to meet him someday.

Fiora:I didn’t mean to make it sound like we don’t want children. We don’t, but I didn’t mean to make it sound like that.

Hart: I love to play venues where if the guy that built the venue could see me on the stage, he would be a little bit bummed about it.

Hyejin: “All right, Petunia, wish me luck.” “(french chainsmoker voice) You will die on August 7th, 2037.” “(shrugs) That’s pretty good.”

Hyunwoo:No one cared about my opinion when I was a little kid. No one cared what I thought. Sometimes, people would say “What do you think you’re doing?”. But that just meant “stop”.

Isol: In high school people were like, “What are your top three colleges?” I was like “top three colleges? I thought I’d be dead in a trunk with my hand hanging out of the taillight by now.”

Jackie: He could look at a child and guess the price of their coffin.

If you left your baby with your mother tonight, you’re not gonna race home and check the nanny cam. But if you left your baby with Gary Busey....!

Jan:My wife and I walk around New York city, pushing Petunia the french bulldog in a stroller, and it’s a big stroller, and it has a big black hood. And people lean in to see the baby.

Jenny:Let’s say a kidnapper throws you in the back of a trunk. Don’t panic.

Johann: “Wait, so they forced you to go?” Yeah, I was five. I was forced to go everywhere. No kid is just going to church, like, riding by on his Huffy, like “Woah! What’s this place! Weird byzantine temple with green carpeting where everyone has bad breath and I wear clothes that I hate on one of my mornings of my two days off? Let’s do this!”

JP: “Okay, I think I see where you’re going here. They go back in time, and they stop the Kennedy assassination!” “Oooaaoh. That’s a really good idea. We didn’t even think of that.” “All right, well what do they do with the time machine?” “Well now I’m embarassed to say.”

Laura: My friends were all like, “Is he nice?” No! Or maybe he is, for his version of life! ‘Cause he has a very different life!

Lenox: You just showed up at 8 AM, and they were like, “Put down your stuff. Go to the gym.” And you’re like, “god, I guess they’re finally gonna kill us all, alright. This is younger than I thought I would be but we are pretty big assholes.”

Leon:I was like twelve years old and my dad walked up to me and he said, “Hello... (chuckes) Hello, I’m Chip Mulaney, I’m your father.” And then he said the following. “You know, Leonard Bernstein. Was one of the great composers and conductors of the 20th century, but sometimes he would be gay. And according to a biography I read of him, when he was holding back the gay part, he did some of his best work.”

Li Dailin: I asked my mom if she’d ever seen a ghost. That’s where we’re at conversation-wise in our relationship as a mother and son, because I’m 35 and I don’t have any children to talk about, and she doesn’t understand my career.

Luke: None of us really know our fathers. Anyway...

Magnus: She came in and she picked up the baby, and she was like “It’s okay, she’s just going through that phase where she says penis and vagina a lot”. Aren’t we all.

Mai: Why don’t you give me a candle for looking in the mirror? And a floppy hat, and I’ll tremble off to bed in my Victorian nightgown!

Nadine: Every time I go to the zoo I’m like “Hey, where’s the jaguar?”, and the zoo guy is like “oh, he must be in the inside part”. The inside part? Tell him we’re here.

Nathapon: You are gathered together as a school and you are told never to talk to an adult that you don’t know. And you are told this by an adult that you don’t know.

Nicky:That’s right- there was always assembly, and then, like, that second assembly to yell at you for how you behaved at the first assembly.

Rio:I”ll be at a wedding reception and someone’ll be like, “Heyy, you coming to the hotel bar after? We’re all gonna get drinks and keep the party going”, and I’m like “Nah nah nah sister, you’re not getting me to no secondary location!”

Rosalio: People walk around on the phone now like, “Hello hello? You still there- ugh, lost him”. And that’s it! No follow-through with that guy!

Rozzi:Yeah, he was not a “spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down” kind of guy. He was more like “brush your teeth. Now boom! Orange juice! That’s life.”

Shoichi: By the way, Detective J. J. Bittenbinder wore three-piece suits. He also wore a pocket watch. Two years in a row, he wore a cowboy hat. He also had a huge handlebar mustache. None of that matters, but it’s important to me that you know that.

Silvia: Children, rather than continuing to teach you how to read, we have cleared the entire day for this random guy!

Sissela: You should be able to write in, “I don’t know. I know you told me. But I have had a very long day. I am very small, and I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under.”

Sua: Some people give off a vibe of, like, right away they’re like “Do not fuck with me”. My vibe is more like “Hey, you could pour soup in my lap and I’ll probably apologize to you!”

William: There are those guys who, they buy the cow, and then on the side, total matador, but...

Xiukai: “And when one feels like a duck, one is happy!” Now that’s debatable.

Yuki: And I have friends I went to college with, and they’re like “oh, you should donate and be a good alumnus”. And they wear shirts that say ‘school’ and it’s like, look....

Zahir: She said, “Okay, I know I don’t get this shit because I wasn’t raised Catholic, and I’m fucking glad I wasn’t because it’s a fucked up organization”, I said “nonononoo, we all know that.”

[just-some-girlll]

home.

Kara and Lena’s relationship as told by the different spaces in Kara’s loft.

-

i. front hall.

it’s an entryway. a starting point.

here, Lena would linger just a little bit too long after their movie nights – not quite ready to leave, but also hesitant to overstay her welcome. she’d smile at Kara, one of those warm and sleepy ones that no one else gets to see. tell her, ‘thank you for having me. i had a nice time,’ before sinking into Kara’s warm embrace that lasts for maybe a little too long.

it’s where Kara first thinks of asking Lena to stay over.

‘it’s cold,’ she’d say, ‘and late. you should stay.’

‘are you sure?’ Lena would say, because she’s polite and reluctant to intrude.

‘of course.’

‘okay.’

that didn’t happen.

they’d danced around their feelings for years, tip-toeing that fine line between friendship and something more. then Lena had found out about Supergirl, about how Kara had lied for years, about how everyone had lied for years.

that’s when their movie nights stopped. when everything stopped.

Kara would come home late into the night, bone-tired and numb. she’d stumble into her apartment, kick the door shut behind her, and drop back against it with a muffled thud. her glasses would get tossed aside, same with her bag and coat, and then she’d slide down the door until she was sitting on the cold wood floor. sometimes she’d cry, sometimes she’d just sit and stare, but what was always consistent, was that blue emptiness she felt in her heart.

it’s where, months after fighting, Lena stands, asking for help. and it’s where, months after fighting, Kara stands, feeling that emptiness in her heart slowly begin to fill.

it’s an entryway. a starting point. a place where their relationship begins to heal.

ii. living room.

an open space, and where Kara and Lena take those first few steps at healing. together.

there’s some shouting – lots of it actually – but it doesn’t come from a place of anger or hate, rather hurt and love. and soon enough, the shouting stops. that’s when the quiet sets in. it’s like the quiet after a storm: everything’s been unearthed, thrown around, and is just waiting to be picked up in soft, careful hands. that takes a while – Thanksgiving comes and goes – but they do that together too.

Kara starts hosting game nights again, and Lena starts coming to those too. their movie nights are still on hold, and Lena rarely stays after nine, but it’s progress.

it’s early in the new year when their movie nights start up again, and by complete accident as well. everyone had been over for game night. Lena had fallen asleep on Kara’s couch during a bout of Jenga, and everyone had left not long after. when she’d woken up, Lena saw Kara at the other end of the couch, feet curled beneath her, and nursing a cup of tea as the opening credits of The Goonies played on the TV.

‘what time is it?’ Lena asked, sitting up and stretching her back.

‘late,’ Kara said, almost a little sad. ‘i can fly you home.’

‘that’s okay.’

Kara nodded. ‘do you wanna watch the movie with me?’

‘yeah,’ Lena said, and then she smiled that warm sleepy smile that only Kara gets to see.

iii. dining room.

some say the kitchen is the heart of any home, but Kara likes to think the dining room is a worthier choice. it’s a place to talk, to gather, to reconnect.

she hosts Thanksgiving most years there, stuffs mismatched chairs around the table so everyone can fit, and makes a point to claim the seat beside Lena, even if it means she has to sit on the not-quite-sturdy lawn chair for dinner and dessert. she has to hover a fraction of an inch because she’s genuinely worried the chair may give out beneath her.

don’t tell Eliza though. she has a rule about no powers at the table.

it’s totally worth it though, because, with everyone stuffed around Kara’s table, it means everyone’s pressed close together. it means Lena’s sitting almost flush to Kara’s side. it means Lena’s hand brushes against Kara’s when they’ve finished eating and resting their hands on the table, pinkies reaching out and linking together.

if anyone notices, they don’t say a thing.

it’s also a place of certainty, Kara realises one morning as she's eating breakfast. unlike the front hall and living room, there’s no mystery about what you’re supposed to do in the dining room.

it’s as she takes a sip of orange juice, mulling over the events of the last year and a bit, that she realises her and Lena seem to be exactly where they were before everything blew up in her face. it’s as she dunks her spoon back into her bowl of cereal, that she realises she's never been happier. and it’s as her phone pings with a new message from Lena – confirming plans for lunch – that she realises she’s in love and has been for a while.

iv. kitchen.

a place of creation, of making things, mostly food, but just as many memories too.

it’s where Kara first made Lena laugh. like, really laugh. one of those laughs that shakes your body, makes you breathless, and leaves you giggling hours later. Kara can’t remember what she did to make Lena laugh that much, wishes she could, but definitely prefers the memory of Lena’s laugh to whatever dumb thing she said or did.

sometimes they sit on the floor too, backs pressed against the cabinets, a bottle of five-dollar wine Kara found in the back of her cupboard and a half-melted tub of Ben & Jerry’s between them. those are the times where they’ll talk well into the night about their hopes and fears, falling deeper as they do.

the first time they kiss is on one of those nights. it started as an unfiltered confession from Lena.

‘i think i’m in love,’ she said, poking her spoon listlessly at the pint of ice-cream.

and Kara felt her heart sink, because Lena loves someone, and that someone isn’t her. ‘yeah?’

‘yeah.’

‘have you told them?’

‘no.’

‘well, they’re lucky, really lucky, if someone as great you loves them.’

‘you think?’

Kara turned her head to look at Lena, stars in her eyes and with one of those soft smiles that says more than words ever could. ‘how could i not?’

and then Lena had asked if she could kiss her, and Kara had sputtered out a confused ‘what?’ too which Lena asked her question again.

Kara had blinked, had understood, and then leant forward to kiss Lena with the biggest grin on her face.

v. bathroom.

it’s a bit of an anything-goes sort of space. a combination of hurt and love and friendship.

hurt, because sometimes they fight. their first big fight as a couple came a few months into their relationship. it had started as a small irritant. some little habit Kara unknowingly picked up in adolescence that drove Lena absolutely mad. as all things do, the annoyance grew as the time they spent together increased. it ended with Lena storming off to the bathroom and locking herself in, and Kara standing in the kitchen, realising she really fucked up.

she gave Lena space and waited a little while before going to the door and knocking gently. the door opened shortly after.

‘sorry for yelling,’ Lena said.

‘sorry for being annoying.’

‘you’re not annoying.’

‘some of my habits are annoying.’

‘so are mine.’

‘we’ll work on it?’

Lena had nodded and smiled.

‘can i have a kiss?’

‘like you even have to ask.’

Kara laughed as she pulled Lena close and kissed her sweetly on the lips.

love, because sometimes Kara will sneak into the shower with Lena, wrap her arms around her waist, and press a line of kisses along her shoulder and neck. Lena had admonished Kara the first time she did it, had said she had a meeting at nine and couldn’t be late. that had only served to spur Kara on.

‘i can be quick,’ Kara had said, her hands wandering up and down Lena’s wet and smooth body.

‘i know you can.’ Lena spun around in Kara’s arms, leant in close so their lips were barely a hairs width apart. ‘but why would you want to be quick? we both know that slow’ —she dipped her hands between Kara’s legs, started with slow teasing strokes— ‘is so much better.’

Kara had moaned and closed her eyes, very happy with where her morning was going. she listened to Lena’s voice, listened as she explained exactly what she’d do to her, what she’d say, and how it’d feel. and then—

the water turned off and Lena slipped out of the shower, telling Kara that she really had to get going and that they’d pick this up later.

friendship, because even though they’re dating, they’ll always be best friends. Lena had let herself into Kara’s apartment late one evening, juggling folders from work, her keys, and a bag of groceries she picked up on her way because she noticed Kara was missing a few things earlier that morning. she’d called out to Kara, and when she got no response, ventured deeper into the loft. the bathroom was where she found Kara, who was stood in front of the mirror with a pair of scissors.

‘really?’ Lena had laughed, stepping into the bathroom and over the strands of blonde hair scattered across the floor.

‘i was bored.’

‘so you decided to cut your hair?’

‘yes?’

‘need a hand?’

‘please.’ Kara all but threw the scissors into Lena’s hands before she sat down on the closed toilet.

Kara had thanked Lena when she was finished, and Lena had replied with a simple, ‘that’s what friends are for.’

‘we’re girlfriends, Lee.’

‘yeah, but we’re still friends.’

‘the best of friends.’ and then Kara had pressed a quick kiss to Lena’s cheek before darting off to get started on dinner.

vi. bedroom.

this is an open space. an honest space. like the living room but only for the two of them. they don't have secrets anymore. this is where they share them. some big or small, and others new or old. it’s no secret that they love each, not anymore. those quiet declarations of love whispered into the dark as they both lay on their sides facing each other, fingers twisted together, and legs a tangled mess beneath the sheets. the first time Kara said those three words was in her bedroom.

‘i love you,’ she had said in the quiet. Lena had been asleep, her breath steady and body free from the invisible weight she carries with her each day.

she wanted to test the words, see how they felt on her tongue, and sounded to her ears.

she decided that they’re good words. words Lena should hear.

Kara drifted off to sleep with those three words on her mind. it was the first thing she said when she woke up in the morning. Lena had smiled sleepily, eyes still closed and limbs heavy with sleep.

‘love you too,’ Lena said before sleep pulled her back and Kara pressed a featherlight kiss to the tip of her nose.

ao3

[montaguehphm]

How about Murphy, Barnaby and Charlie for the soft hcs? 😘

Oh, you. Hehehe. Of course, we need to talk about Montague and Jason’s three best boys. Hehe.

I. Murphy McNully

What they smell like: Murphy smells of a combination of pine and cedar forests, toasted sandwiches, and freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies. Perhaps it’s because Jason always has some fresh cookies ready for Murphy.  

What their favorite smells in the world are: Murphy’s favorite scents are earthy scents, forests, oranges, and chocolates... perhaps chocolates used in chocolate chip cookies? 🍪     

What pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in: It depends on the situation. Usually, like his partner, Jason (hehe), he sleeps topless with a pair of novelty Quidditch boxer shorts (one of every major international Quidditch team). When he’s cold, he puts on a Quidditch-print sweatshirt with a matching pajama bottom.  

My favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute HC about them: Jamurphy (Jason Novak and Murphy), hands down. They’re just the absolute cutest, especially when they’re hanging out with Montague, Barnaby, and (when he’s free) Charlie. #Barnamontphyson rights! Now, among Murphy’s Quidditch merchandise he acquired over the years is his prized collection of novelty vintage neckties from every major international Quidditch team. He puts on the tie that has the team he thinks will win. These ties are actually gifts from Jason, who figured that the rarer and older the designs were, the better. Jason knows that each design carries a piece of history, which was something that was part of Murphy's interests with the sport.. He employed Montague to help him find a good number of them while he and Barnaby were traveling.    

My favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute HC about them: Murphy and Barnaby have an adorable friendship. One of their favorite activities to do together happens to be wizard’s chess, even if Barnaby never wins. He’s after the learning for his journey to become a Renaissance wizard and he’s happy to have a friend like Murphy help him become a better thinker and strategist. They also have, at some point, had a bit of a thing for each other. 👀     

A song that reminds me of them: "Talk About You" by MIKA. The man loves to talk, whether it’s about Quidditch or his man, Jason. 💚   

What animal I think they would be if they were an animal: Murphy is like a dolphin: smart, analytical, and friendly. He's also quite playful, especially with his banters, always happy to share with you the things that bring him joy.  

What position they sleep in: It varies between sleeping on his back with Jason holding him to Murphy spooning Jason with his muscular arms. Yes, Murphy’s arms are huge. What about it? 👀   

Their favorite drink: Murphy loves a good ol’ Butterbeer. For something non-alcoholic though, it would be either some good brewed coffee or Otter’s Fizzy Orange Juice.  

A gift I would give them if I could: Montague would give Murphy a collection of photos of every match Murphy commentated for (with photos of the latter commentating). I would do the same, honestly.

II. Barnaby Lee

What they smell like: Barnaby, according to canon Montague, smells like fresh laundry and sandalwood. Montague also picks up a bit of vanilla and cinnamon whenever he cuddles with Barnaby, but it's quite subtle. It lowkey happens to be one of the reasons why one of Montague’s favorite Muggle pastries is a sticky cinnamon bun.  

What their favorite smells in the world are: Barnaby loves peppermints and oranges. Something about oranges just puts him in such a good mood, while peppermint always seems to make him feel cozy and warm... Which funny enough is what he smells whenever he's around Montague. It's probably Monty's perfume.  

What pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in: Barnaby usually just sleeps in just boxers because he’s usually warm at night, but he throws one of his favorite sweatshirts on when he's cold, one of which he gave to Montague.  

My favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute HC about them: Montaby, because well... it’s Montague’s world “and the rest is fucking parking.” (Mateo, A. 2020) (damn, the narcissism is real hahaha!) During their travels around the world, the two of them would join the Muggle tourist groups for fun. They’d even try all the local food and drinks they could get their hands on. One of their favorite places to visit was Kyoto, where they got to try authentic ramen and other Japanese food for the first time. Barnaby was completely overwhelmed with the complex and rich flavors every bowl had that he ordered more, one after the other. Barnaby had no regrets. Montague had one: the bill.  

My favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute HC about them: Aside from Murphy, I also think about Barnaby and Charlie’s friendship as they bond over Care of Magical Creatures. They listen to each other about the creatures they talk about, be it Barnaby’s fascination with puffskeins and crups or Charlie’s love for dragons (surprise, surprise).  

A song that reminds me of them: There’s a good number of these, but my best one is “I Melt with You” by Modern English. It’s an upbeat song that reflects Barnaby’s more loyal side and jovial outlook in life whenever he’s in great company. "The Look" by Roxette started blasting in Montague's head when he got a good first look of Barnaby.  

What animal I think they would be if they were an animal: Barnaby would be big and fluffy golden retriever. Why? Well, he's always a good boy. He's the best boy. He's friendly, caring, and quite energetic. Barnaby's a cheerful and confident boy who would show you loyalty and devotion.  

What position they sleep in: When he sleeps alone, Barnaby sleeps in either a fetal position while cuddling a pillow or on his belly while holding a pillow. When he shares a bed with Montague, they spoon (but subconsciously take turns on who gets to be the big and the little spoon for the night).  

Their favorite drink: Depending on the occasion, it would either be butterbeer or mead, hands down. Because of his sweet tooth, he did, however, develop a fascination for cream sodas, milkshakes, and various sweet beverages and fruity cocktails ever since his first visit to the Muggle world with Montague.  

A gift I would give them if I could: Montague would probably give Barnaby his eternal devotion a photo album of his own. It could contain enchanted photographs of their adventures and vacations together, with Montague’s little notes about what his favorite part of that day was with his husband... and throw in some custom stuffed toys of his favorite creatures. As for me, the man behind this account, if I had the wizard money for it, I would get Barnaby collector’s editions of various books on magizoology. Because he deserves to explore his passion for the subject.

III. Charlie Weasley

What they smell like: According to canon, Charlie smells like grass and honeysuckle. Montague also noted at some point that Charlie smelled of fresh and warm buttermilk pancakes.  

What their favorite smells in the world are: Charlie loves the smell of anything that reminds him of the comforts of home: breakfast food, the meadows, and his mother's hot cocoa recipe (chocolate, cinnamon, and peppermint).  

What pajamas they wear/what they wear to sleep in: Charlie has a pair of pajamas with cute little dragons on them. He likes to collect as many designs as he can.  

My favorite ship (if applicable) and a cute HC about them: My headcanon for Charlie is that he is an aromantic homosexual man. Periodt.  

My favorite friendship (if applicable) and a cute HC about them: Charlie has a friendship with Rowan Khanna over (surprise, surprise) dragons. When Charlie learned that Rowan would talk about all the dragons he read about with Montague, the Weasley boy immediately became friends with Rowan. They would discuss different dragon-related topics from dragon breeds and habitats to current events surrounding dragons.  

A song that reminds me of them: "Sloom" by Of Monsters and Men. In terms of the production, it’s one of those songs that reminds me of the countryside.  

What animal I think they would be if they were an animal: Charlie, as much as I'd like to think he'd be a dragon because he loves dragons, would be a labrador retriever. Like a labrador, Charlie's a warm and friendly person. He's also quite versatile as a person: he's a Seeker, a proficient duelist, and an aspiring dragonologist.  

What position they sleep in: Charlie sleeps on his back with his limbs spread like a starfish.  

Their favorite drink: Butterbeer. Charlie's always down for Butterbeer. He also loves some hot cocoa with cinnamon -- just like how Mrs. Weasley makes it.  

A gift I would give them if I could: Montague would give Charlie a specific special edition of a book on dragonology, autographed by a dragonologist that Charlie has respected and admire for years (and was one of Montague's clients during his freelance Curse-Breaker years). As me, the man behind this account, I'd give him dragon stuffed toys.

[starksinthenorth]

(most) Appearance Descriptions of Slaves in ASOIAF

Before I jump into a list, reminder that this is what slaves are used for in Essos and their importance of the industry to the non-slaves:

"The best calumnies are spiced with truth," suggested Qavo, "but the girl's true sin cannot be denied. This arrogant child has taken it upon herself to smash the slave trade, but that traffic was never confined to Slaver's Bay. . . . . Slaves grow our food, clean our streets, teach our young. They guard our walls, row our galleys, fight our battles. And now when they look east, they see this young queen shining from afar, this breaker of chains. The Old Blood cannot suffer that. Poor men hate her too. Even the vilest beggar stands higher than a slave. This dragon queen would rob him of that consolation."

- ADWD, TYRION VI

A Game of Thrones

The old woman, small and grey as a mouse, never said a word, but the girl made up for it. She was Illyrio's favorite, a fair-haired, blue-eyed wench of sixteen who chattered constantly as she worked.

DAENERYS I

Magister Illyrio murmured a command, and four burly slaves hurried forward, bearing between them a great cedar chest bound in bronze. 

DAENERYS II

A trader from Qarth once told me that dragons came from the moon," blond Doreah said as she warmed a towel over the fire. Jhiqui and Irri were of an age with Dany, Dothraki girls taken as slaves when Drogo destroyed their father's khalasar. Doreah was older, almost twenty. Magister Illyrio had found her in a pleasure house in Lys.

DAENERYS III 

I will rape their women, take [the Westerosi’s] children as slaves, and bring their broken gods back to Vaes Dothrak to bow down beneath the Mother of Mountains.

DAENERYS VI

The women and children of Ogo's khalasar walked with a sullen pride, even in defeat and bondage; they were slaves now, but they seemed not to fear it. 

DAENERYS VII

One of them, a thick-bodied, flat-nosed woman of forty years, blessed Dany haltingly in the Common Tongue, but from the others she got only flat black stares. 

DAENERYS VII (Mirri Maz Duur; her skin is never described, but in the same chapter the Lhazareen are described as having “the same copper skin and almond-shaped eyes” of the Dothraki.) 

A Clash of Kings

When they found the fool he was naked, [Patchface’s] skin white and wrinkled and powdered with wet sand.

PROLOGUE

Even [Melisandre’s] eyes were red . . . but her skin was smooth and white, unblemished, pale as cream.

PROLOGUE (She’s confirmed as a former slave in FeastDance.)

[Varys] held out a parchment in a soft white hand.

TYRION XII (Varys’ former slavery in Lys is stated by Pycelle in AGOT, EDDARD V)

The huge brown eunuch swaggered forward, sheathing his arakh. 

DAENERYS V (Strong Belwas, from Meereen)

A Storm of Swords

No older than ten, [Missandei] had the round flat face, dusky skin, and golden eyes of Naath. 

DAENERYS II

More than half [of the Unsullied] had the copper skins and almond eyes of Dothraki and Lhazerene, but she saw men of the Free Cities in the ranks as well, along with pale Qartheen, ebon-faced Summer Islanders, and others whose origins she could not guess. And some had skins of the same amber hue as Kraznys mo Nakloz, and the bristly red-black hair that marked the ancient folk of Ghis, who named themselves the harpy's sons. They sell even their own kind. It should not have surprised her. The Dothraki did the same, when khalasar met khalasar in the sea of grass.

DAENERYS II 

These were no Unsullied, Dany noted, but a more common sort of men, with pale brown skins and black hair.

DAENERYS II 

The elder Grazdan sat in a sedan chair supported by four huge copper-skinned slaves. 

DAENERYS III

"Mhysa!" a brown-skinned man [one of the former slaves] shouted out at her.

DAENERYS IV

A Feast for Crows / A Dance with Dragons

As they neared the shore, he noticed a line of women and children herded up onto the deck of one of the great cogs. Some had their hands bound behind their backs, and all wore loops of hempen rope about their necks. "Who are they?" he asked the men who helped tie up their boat.

THE REAVER (Victarion in the Reach, so Andals and First Men.)

Lord Ghael [a former slave] had a mouth of brown and rotten teeth and the pointed yellow face of a weasel.

DAENERYS I

[The volantene pleasure slave] had freckled cheeks and tight red curls upon her head, which gave promise of freckled breasts and red hair between her legs.

TYRION VI

Their driver was one of the cousin's slaves, a small man with a wheel tattooed upon one cheek, naked but for a breechclout and a pair of sandals. His skin was the color of teak, his eyes chips of flint.

THE MERCHANT’S MAN

Inside was a painted likeness of a woman with big blue eyes and pale golden hair streaked by silver.

TYRION II (Describing Serra, Illyrio’s former wife)

Her white hair was so thin that the pink of her scalp showed through. 

TYRION VII (Describing the Widow of the Waterfront)

Tall and thin, [Benerro] had a drawn face and skin white as milk. 

⁃TYRION

[Moqorro’s] skin was black as pitch, his hair as white as snow; the flames tattooed across his cheek and brow yellow and orange.

TYRION

Clean-shaved and pink-cheeked, with a mop of chestnut hair, a heavy brow, and a squashed nose, he perched on a high stool with a wooden spoon in hand, contemplating a bowl of purplish gruel with red-rimmed eyes. 

TYRION VII (Describing Penny, a future slave.)

A pretty slave girl might have done wonders to improve his temper … particularly one with silvery hair, like the whore who had been sitting on his cock back in Selhorys.

TYRION VIII

Though  can’t find the quote, in THE BLIND GIRL, Arya learns of wildling slaves from Hardhome. 

[strato-viper-raven-blog]

Shoot-em-Up Drabbles and such

Reading the Hardcore 101 Shoot-em-Up Vol. 2 book inspired me to quickly dash off this short Battle Garegga hurt/comfort fic. Translating and reading Japanese Battle Garegga fics has inspired me to try my hand at one. It also inspired me to headcanon the Wayne Bros as being rather sensitive types or 'cute' in a way. ;)

Content Warnings: Mentions of Torture, Eye trauma, and PTSD/Panic Attacks.

Brian groaned as he tried to flex his bound wrists as he dangled from a hook attached to the roof beams. The Federation’s ‘Supreme Investigator and Judge’ De La Costa cleaned the needles with a gold embroidered handkerchief. Dabbing a bit of rubbing alcohol on the cloth before he did so. He smiled a genuinely affable smile.

“I find sewing needles much more effective for my work. Don’t you?”

Brian remained silent.

De La Costa rose up, a few needles in the palm of his hand and said, “Now wouldn’t it be much more effective for you to tell us where the Garegga Series planes are hidden?” He slowly walked up to Brian, until he was close enough to trace a needle down his cheek, “It would be a shame if a genius engineer such as yourself lost an eye.” He hissed with sweet venom, “A mechanical engineer without sight would be worse than useless, wouldn’t they?”

Brian jerked awake, clutching his chest. His heart beating a million miles per minute and as he breathed in short, ragged gasps. Fever sweat forming on his brow and sliding down his face. His bandaged right hand instinctively covering his managed, taped-up eye.

Dear lord, what punishment have the Federation done this time? Brian thought as he instinctively hunched over as his fever spread through his body.

“Brian? Brian! You got to calm down. You’re having another nightmare!”

Jay? No, it couldn’t be the surprisingly youthful voice of his younger brother. The only good thing that happened during their botched attack on the rebuilt Black Heart Mk II was that Jay had managed to escape while he caused a diversion. Did what remained of the Federation had managed to capture him too?

“Brian? I need you to breath for me.” Jay said eerily calm, “On the count of four I want you to take a breath.”

It could be a trick, Brian’s interrogator could have forced a gun behind Jay’s back and told him to say those words so he could get him to talk.

Still, it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter.

One…two…three…four. He took a deep breath. His heart slowed down as Jay said “Now hold for four more seconds.”

Brian slowly started to relax, the only thoughts in his mind was saving his little brother.

“Now exhale.”

His breath came out in a rush, followed by an ‘Uhhnn.” Jay’s voice saying “It’s ok, your safe now, far away from the Federation.”

Safe?

Never mind that, just focus.

“Okay, I need you to repeat. This is going to help you out a lot big brother.”

One, two, three, four, breathe in, hold, exhale, and repeat. A monotonous but soothing repetition which allowed him to settle down, his muscles sagging in relief. Then they started aching everywhere. Brian blinked his good eye several times before he opened it.

He sat in a small, sparsely decorated bedroom with sunshine pouring through the window next to his bed, warming him. The fresh, soft cotton sheets a cool and welcomed relief on his tortured body.

“Thank goodness I was able to help! You’ve scared me quite a bit Brian!” Jay said, wearing shirtsleeves with a few red-orange splotches on the front and a navy blue floppy hat with his flight googles on top of it.

“I’m really sorry Jay.” Brian managed to smile a little, “I must have scared you.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it Brian. I was just glad I could do something for you.” He replied, beaming with joy. He grabbed the bowl of soup on top of drawers and gently handed it to Brian. The smell of tomato and spices hit his nose. He breathed deeply, smiling again as the thought of a comforting meal pushed the nightmares away.

Brian looked down to see a steaming, thick liquid as Jason said “It should still be hot.” He took a spoon, winching a little as he scooped up a mouthful. It tasted nice, warm, and chewy as he tasted the savory citrus tang of tomato mixed in with bread, eggs whisked into little clumps, and thick pieces of salty bacon.

“I know we don’t eat a lot of red meat, but you need to build up your strength after…” Jason stopped speaking. Trying to put words to the incident brought images of a small farm smelling of decay and manure which hid a bloodied brother hovering near death.

The brothers stayed silent. No need to mention the ordeal now.

“This soup is pretty good.” Brian said, trying to lighten the mood.

“Oh it was nothing, just a bunch of stuff I threw together.” Jay replied.

“No, I appreciate it, you’re a lot stronger than you think you are Jay.” Brian said. Jason broke down crying much to his amazement.

“Damn it Brian! Don’t do anything stupid like that again!” Jay said as he came up and gently hugged him, “Didn’t it ever occur to you that I still need my brother?!”

Brian lightly hugged him despite the painful throbbing, letting his brother sob out his relief. Jay was just so glad his brother wasn’t killed in revenge by a Federation that didn’t know they had already crumbled into irrelevancy.

“Don’t worry.” Brian said, lightly pinching Jay’s nose with his fingers, “My little brother is pretty good at pulling my fat out of the fire.”

Jay laughed through his tears as he said “Cut it out Brian.” In mock whining. Brian chuckle in return, even if he did had a spasm of pain. It was good to be back home.

The End

[intoanothermind]

Beta - Stiles Stilinski

Word count: 1.8K

- Stiles Stilinski x reader

Masterlist

Kind of part 1

Kind of part 3

-------

PROLOGUE

If I said it was easy, I would be lying. It hurt to see Stiles like that and to think that maybe we couldn't save him practically tore my heart out of my chest. He always felt inferior because he was basically the only human, but what he never knew was how important his humanity was to me. He was what kept me human, who kept me from becoming the monster that I am really inside. So seeing Stiles possessed by Nogitsune and with great chances of dying was not being my favorite time. I could remember really well when he had been tested at the hospital a few weeks ago - I remember the despair I had felt about the possibility that perhaps Stiles would have the same illness that had taken his mother.

SCENE ONE

When Scott released Stiles from the hug, my only reaction was to throw myself into his arms.

"It will be all right, Stilinski." I assured him, whispering in his ear.

Stiles held me a little tighter in his arms.

"You know it's not as easy." He muttered, burying his face in my neck. "A lot can change after I get out of here."

I turned away from him and studied his visibly tired face.

“You're right.” I muttered, and Stiles watched my face as if to read my thoughts. "I may not have a chance to do this again."

Stiles frowned and I noticed his wide eyes seconds before I held his face in my hands and pushed our lips together. Just by feeling him froze, I could say I would regret - but I would never lie about that. I heard Stiles's heart racing at the same pace as mine as he squeezed my waist and I put my arms around his shoulder. We deepened the kiss, and although it was not a good time, it was something I had dreamed of since falling in love with my best friend - unfortunately more or less at the same time he fell in love with Lydia. When I parted from him, I kept my eyes closed, still tasting his lips and afraid of his reaction.

"Y/N, I ..." he began to say, and I opened my eyes, realizing how astonished he looked. And hearing Scott's laugh, silent in human ears, didn't help me at all.

“Sorry, it was a mistake.” I said, turning away from him almost in despair. "II shouldn't ..." I started to stutter, and all I wanted to do was run, which didn't help my Beta position.

When I tried to get rid of his arms, Stiles pulled me against him and sealed our lips again, which made me relax immediately. Stiles held my arms, as if to keep me from running away.

"Now that this has happened, I won't let you get away anytime soon."

I smiled faintly, kissing his lips and then hugging him. He squeezed me in his arms. I hardly cared, since his strength could barely be compared to mine. I followed Scott out of the resonance room, but I felt that my heart stayed inside.

SCENE TWO

Groaning at the pain, I spun on the living room couch and reached for the phone on the coffee table. When I saw the name on the screen, I wanted to break the device in my hands.

“What do you want?” I growled as soon as I answered.

“Jeez, calm down, Y/N!” I rolled my eyes at Stiles's voice. "I'm bored and wanted to know if you were home for me to go there."

As soon as I heard what he said, I grunted,

"If you show up here, I'll tear your eyes out with my claws."

Stiles muttered something, but with the pain I felt, I could barely reason to hear him, even with the over-hearing I had.

""The full moon is still far away, there's no need to be aggressive like that." I whimpered a little, and he remained silent for a few seconds before gasping, as if he were having an incredible discovery. “Are you on your period?!”

It was my turn to remain silent.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

“What?! Stiles, no ...!” - but he had already hung up.

Damn it!, I thought. It could be Stiles, but I didn't care. I didn't want to see anyone at that moment. I lay down for several minutes still, until I realized that Stiles lives practically beside me and had no reason to take twenty minutes. When the doorbell rang, I swore I would rip off anyone's head.

"I said you weren't supposed to come." I grumbled as soon as I saw Stiles on the other side of the door. "You know I want to beat you, don't you?"

Stiles grinned, as if expecting it.

"I know you'll change your mind when you see what I brought." He teased, lifting the bag in his hand.

I took it quickly and analyzed its contents. All Star Wars series and vanilla ice cream. I turned my gaze to Stiles, a smile on my lips so big it could tear them apart.

“I think you'll like it too.” He took the hand that was hidden behind his back and I saw the little red packet.

“Kit Kat?!” I exclaimed, still smiling.

“Three, actually.” He smiled too, twirling his fingers to show the hidden packages.

I jumped into his arms immediately, kissing his lips over and over. Stiles laughed as he wrapped my legs around his waist to balance me better.

“Your eyes are shining.” He commented as he watched my face, looking concerned about what he found. “They are oranges.”

I didn't worry about that.

"It usually happens when I'm with you." I muttered, and he flashed a beautiful smile before kissing me again.

Our tongues battled for space and in the end none won. We just stood there enjoying each other and I did my best to savor his taste. After all the worrying about Nogitsune taking over my boyfriend's body, we deserved a time for ourselves.

I moaned and whimpered when I felt excruciating pain in the side of my belly.

“Does it hurt?” He walked away and asked, worried.

“Just a little.” I answered, fake smiling at the intention to calm him down. "Wow, that's even worse when I'm a werewolf."

Stiles began to move, carrying me towards the couch. He laid me down carefully and left me as he put the first film in and took two spoons. He returned after the kitchen with a glass of water and a pill in hand.

“What is it?” I asked, sitting with a little of difficulty from the pain.

“I called Lydia asking what was the best medicine and I went to the drugstore before coming here.” Stiles sat next to me and made me swallow the pill. “The situation was a bit awkward.”

I laughed as he shuddered, possibly remembering what might have been one of the most awkward moments of his life. Stiles snuggled us on the couch, lying behind me and leaning my body against his and my head against his shoulder. The ice cream lay on our lap and the chocolate was within my reach. Stiles clicked it to play and set me up better.

“I love that you like Star Wars.” He murmured against my ear before kissing my temple.

I laughed, grabbing another scoop of ice cream. "Lucky for me, don’t you think?"

"It is my luck that your cycle doesn’t coincide with the full moon." He grunted and I slapped his arm.

“Hey, it's not so bad!”

"Trust me on this, you look just like Peter." He paused. "Annoying and incredibly cruel."

I rolled my eyes but ended up laughing. We turned our attention back to the movie and I slowly realized that the fact that he was by my side had taken all my bad mood away.

EPILOGUE

“Stiles, give it up!” I muttered, completely annoyed.

"I'm almost done here, Y/N, and I'm not leaving Jeep here!" I heard his voice outside and sighed.

I quickly got out of the driver's seat and walked over to him. The hood was lifted and Stiles had a roll of duct tape in his hand, staring at the Jeep as if he had no idea what to do. I bet he really didn't know, since I only saw silver tape inside it.

“I would never ask to drop the Jeep, I love this Jeep!” I exclaimed, raising my hands in the air.

Stiles turned in surprise at me, flashing an enchanted smile at me. He looked at me like he had never seen me in his life. I could only laugh as I took the ribbon from his hand and closed the hood.

"Y/N, I need to..." he began to speak.

“Stilinski!” I exclaimed, holding her cheek with my free hand. "We'll call the mechanic after school and have everything repaired."

“Y/N, you know I have no money.” He grunted.

I smiled mischievously. “Who says you will pay?”

He was about to argue, but I soon stopped him.

“I will pay. Don't worry about it, I have enough.”

Stiles grinned and lifted me off the floor as his lips attacked mine in a fierce kiss. His hands pinned me by the hips, joining my body with his as much as I could. We broke apart for breathlessness minutes later. Stiles intertwined our fingers as we walked toward our first day of school last year.

"I was thinking..." Stiles commented, and I noticed his nervousness as his hand tightened on mine and I smelled it from him. ”When we were putting our names on the shelves ... I want the plan to work and ... Have you chosen the university?”

Despite the confusion in the words, I understood perfectly what he meant.

“It doesn't matter which one I go to.” He looked confused at me. "You go where you think you should go, and I will just go with you."

I knew he intended to argue and to say that I should do whatever I wanted. But that was the point - I was already doing. The Stilinski were the only ones who helped me after my parents' accident. And now I had a pack. They were my family. So I understood Stiles's plan. I would help him and do my best to do so and keep our family together.

[ofmenoetius]

✖ ▒ OH, WHAT A COINCIDENCE! i was just thinking of [ PATROCLUS SON OF MENOETIUS ]. most swear their resemblance to [ SEAN TEALE ] is unmistakable, but he has / they have been around since the [ BRONZE AGE ]. it is rumoured that the [ DEMIBOY ] was born in [ OPUS ] in the year [ 1205 BC ], even though they don’t look a day over [ THIRTY ]. what a shame, though: they were once famed for being [ HONEST ] and [ PASSIONATE ] ; yet now, they seem more and more [ RESERVED ] and [ MERCURIAL ]. but while [ PATROCLUS ] spends their days working as a [ HARPIST FOR THE LONDINIUM SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA ], they are already notorious around town for [ UNSENT LOVE LETTERS ADDRESSED TO NO ONE ; BANDAGED FINGERS AND CALLOUSED HANDS ; A BEAT UP OLD FLIP PHONE ; THE FAINT SCENT OF COFFEE AND CARDAMOM ]. when you live forever, you might as well make the most of it. 

hi, hello –– i’m bella + also the worst !! this is my baby patroclus who’s one part powerpuff girl, two parts physical embodiment of the eyeroll, and generally just has really bad frown lines from being in a Bad Mood for like thousands of years or whatever. ( will not get botox sadly, someone convince him ) anyway –– i am here for every single plot of every single kind !! just like this and / or hmu on discord @ halaldaddy#3725 !!

TASK ONE : THE RUNDOWN

▼ STATISTICS.

full name: patroclus, son of menoetius.

moniker / nickname: officially goes by patrick in 2020, and he has the fake ids to prove it. generally isn’t the biggest fan of nicknames. 

titles: tbd.

gender && pronouns: demi-boy && he / him + they / them. 

dob && age: april 24th, 1205 BC && really old –– about 3224 years old, give or take, but he’s been thirty for a really long time. 

place of birth: opus, greece. 

previous residences: opus, athens, larissa, cape town, cardiff, inverness, paris, milan, caracas, && londinium –– in that order. 

zodiac sign: taurus. 

ethnicity: white && venezuelan. 

sexual orientation: demisexual. 

romantic orientation: homoromantic. 

occupational history: perpetual soldier, squire, orange farmer, lutist, revolutionary, boxer, harpist. among others. 

▼ PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

face claim: sean teale.

height: 185 cm && 6′2. 

physical build: mesomorph && visibly muscular && painfully straight back from years of his father’s voice still stuck in his head. ( it’s 2020, maybe he really should go to therapy for his daddy issues, but how do you tell a therapist your dad died before the trojan war ?? asking for a friend. )

eye colour and shape: dark brown && hooded, really long lashes which he does oil at night && also lines his eyes with kohl. it’s habit. 

hair colour and style: dark, cropped, usually trimmed neatly. 

usual expression: bored, reluctant smile.

accent and speech style: heavily accented english, but it’s impossible to pin down where he might be from. speaks spanish and greek with more ease than he does english.

distinguishing marks / characteristics: both ear lobes pierced, gold studs in both. a shield tattooed on his left flank. plenty of scars –– one across his right eyebrow, scarred && calloused hands, a very large scar that refused to heal right on his left shoulder. 

clothing style: anything he can find, really ; athletic for the most part, but smart button-downs ( always button-downs, never button ups ) for work. 

jewellery and accessories: a thin, gold chain around his neck ; his an engraved ring hangs from it, tucked away. a deliberate collection of rings on his fingers: a curved edge, yellow gold signet ring from a third-generation foundry in greece ; a classic medusa ring picked up in florence during the renaissance ; a turquoise inlaid silver signet ring ; a silver plated band, worn on his left thumb.

▼ FAMILY.

father: menoetius, deceased ( thank fuck ). 

mother: philomela, deceased. 

siblings, if any: myrto, his sister. 

extended relations: none that he knows. 

significant other(s): achilles && only achilles. it could only ever be achilles.

children: none, except his –– 

household pet(s): he has two tabby cats named menelaus and ajax ( just a little fun joke for himself, okay –– don’t @ him. ) 

▼ FAVOURITES.

colour: gold ; every shade. 

weather: storms –– it reminds him of mornings spent inside, the air sticky and humid, sweat on his upper lip and a laugh on his tongue. 

food item: he’s a vegetarian –– he always has been, especially since he didn’t always have food, especially during the 1100s. so yeah, patroclus isn’t exactly picky –– anything veg and vaguely edible’s fine –– but he does love a vegan burger ( normal cheese, please ). the perks of the 21st century. okay, and he loves green olives. 

beverage: he’s a stereotype, he loves red wine. ( fine, he hates wine –– he likes tequila. )

time of day: late at night, late enough that the streets are quiet and the air feels thin and he can breathe deeply. 

television genre: not that patroclus has time to watch tv –– plus he’s got one of those old picture tube tvs from the dinosaur era –– but he loves a good underwater documentary. and shark week. and the history channel –– he likes to catch what they got wrong. 

favourite era lived: he’d do anything to go back to the day before he died –– anything. to say a proper goodbye, to say all the very many things he’d never said because he thought he had all the time in the world. but also, he really loved the ‘70s in londinium.

▼ PERSONALITY.

hobbies: boxing && reading && falling asleep in the sun. 

pet peeves: people talking in circles && liars. 

phobias: patroclus doesn’t like drowning. he’s died of drowning once && come back from it, but he absolutely hated it. he’ll take anything over it. 

allergies: coffee. which is fine, because patroclus likes green tea anyway. ( well, green tea with like three whole spoonfuls of honey. )

mbti type: isfj – t.

enneagram type: 

35% the challenger.

48% the skeptic.

22% the peacemaker.

positive traits: passionate && honest && loyal && dependable.

negative traits: reserved && mercurial && blunt && pessimistic && headstrong && forlorn.

morning routine: goes for a run every morning before dawn, goes to a boxing class, has breakfast at the bookshop on the way home, and gets to work at least an hour early. it’s boring and it’s too familiar and patroclus wouldn’t change it –– he’d rather have predictable than the alternative. he’s tired of losing people and places and old routines, so he’s holding on to this one until he has to move again in another twenty years.

beauty routine: nothing really ; patroclus keeps his beard neat and his hair trimmed. he oils and curls his lashes, oils his beard. he misses baths –– big baths that you could sit in and just stay in until you pruned. but he only has a shower in his apartment now. 

sleeping habits: patroclus hasn’t slept through the night since before his first death ; nowadays, it’s a few hours of sleep at a time, and plenty of nightmares to keep him company. the good thing is, he’s very used to waking up early –– rather than tossing and turning or watching his ceiling until dawn, he’s up and out of bed. 

oldest belonging: he doesn’t have anything –– nothing. patroclus always leaves things behind, always. it’s easier that way. and sure, he regrets it sometimes. but there’s no use crying over the past, right? not when he has an endless future. 

living space && home: it’s small –– it’s really small. but it has bay windows, a shitty little terrace with doors that the wind knocks open, and plants everywhere. there’s a kingsize mattress on the ground, one set of sheets total and they’re made of cotton-silk. orange, of course.  

INTRODUCTION : tw death ; tw war .

his childhood wasn’t pretty. patroclus was born too skinny, too weak –– maybe not sickly, but he wasn’t wanted. he wasn’t loved. he was born into a war, and his war was his father. his war was his father’s shame. so when he killed another by accident –– in anger, in frustration, by mistake –– his father was more than happy to ship him off ; and somehow, that was the greatest gift his father could have ever given him. thanks, dad. 

it’s been so long, everything feels like a dream. it feels too sunlit and too warm to the touch. it feels too easy. and sure, he can’t remember all that much about it. but he remembers achilles. he remembers being so happy that he felt sick to his stomach. but he doesn’t remember hector’s knife in his stomach or dying that very first time. but he remembers waking up to hades in the underworld, and he remembers the sickening realisation that he could never go back ever again –– he was here, and he was alive, and he still had to leave everything he once knew behind. 

patroclus didn’t want money or fame ; he’d only ever wanted a love to call his own and a place to call his home. and since he’d lost both already, he was tired. so he went off to work on an orange farm, right at the edge of the world –– or well, the edge of his world. he was still in greece, news travelling to them every few months or years, and it was alright. he was away from the rest of the world, labouring under the cruel sun and sleeping into the cool night, and waking up to do it all over again. he smiled at the kids on his way into town and gave them an armful of oranges each. and then when people began to wonder whywhywhy he wasn’t aging, patroclus moved on to the next village –– and then the next, and then the next. 

it was 1465 + he was in florence when he saw a lute again –– a laugh escaping him before he could start to remember when he last laughed out loud. it reminded him of home, of a long time ago. so he began to play for money and food and a place to stay. and it took him all over the world –– meeting people who’d die before he’d reach his next destination and learning things he’d never be able to forget. 

going to war became a habit. the crusades, the gallic wars, the jacobite rising, the war of the roses, the french revolution, the seven weeks war, world war i, the russian revolution, world war ii, and so very many more –– patroclus wasn’t really fighting, but he was trying. he was trying to make sure some good came out of them, that there was some death that he could stop, some blows he could take if it meant another lived. but at some point, he just couldn’t keep doing it anymore. his heart hurt and his nightmares followed him in the daylight. 

now, well –– he’s a harpist for the londinium symphony. patroclus has been her for all of about 12 years now ; he doesn’t want to move, not yet. but throughout his many, many lifetimes, he’s perfected and loved the harp –– it’s the only thing he recognises in this brave new world, and he’s going to hang onto it for as long as he can. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

survival of the stubborn: a mentor, someone patroclus met after a long, long time of being immortal, but someone who taught him to stop being completely miserable and enjoy the time they have. if it wasn’t for this person, patroclus probably wouldn’t have lasted all that long.

death becomes you: immortal friends ; the gang, the squad. the ride or dies –– so to speak. they can go decades without talking or meeting, but they get together again every fifty years and know they can rely on each other. plus, they can literally whatsapp each other now –– like, what. 

orange you glad to see me: he worked on an orange farm in greece after their first death in about 1200 BC, and met this person there. maybe this person owned the farm, maybe this person was just a guest of the owners, maybe they also worked on the farm, or maybe they just met each other in the village nearby –– but they met again years and years and years later and it was a lowkey lightbulb moment of oh, so i’m not alone out here for patroclus !! 

please turn the music off: musician friends + members of the orchestra ( mortal or immortal ) + anyone who’s into music and they might have met each other over the years !! perhaps a mentor or maybe they even totally hate each other, but just about any type of music relation !!

encore, encore: patroclus worked / played in a few different courts over the years –– always the lute or harp –– so this might be someone he might have played for !! 

tequila’s my best friend: drinking buddies !! what it says on the tin. patroclus is a miserable drinker, usually ends up spilling all of his secrets, sometimes ends up breaking things. 

the war followed me back home: patroclus served in plenty of wars until 1950 –– far too many, with new names and new titles and new ranks every time. to do some good in the world. or maybe they were just chasing their first death at hector’s hands. either way –– this is someone they might have served with !! could be a commanding officer ; a fellow soldier ; or even a doctor / nurse !!

old enemies, new friends: people he just doesn’t get along with. at all. ever. they’re always hated each other, maybe they even killed each other a few times, but just some sort of enemies !!

more to be added !!

[padfootagain]

Welcome To Hell (II)

Part 2 : Demon In Black 

Here comes a second part for this Logan fic! I hope you all like it :)

Demon! Logan is brilliant… I'm having so much fun with him!

Gif not mine

Word Count : 2231

"What the hell is happening around here?"

"Y/N, I can explain…"

"Oh, can you now?"

"Y/N, don't be angry."

"I can't believe you didn't warn me about this."

You put down the flowers in their basket, reorganizing the gerberas before passing to the lilies. Pink flowers next to orange ones.

You heaved a tired sigh. Of course, your best friend (and associate) would not tell you if your ex fiancé dropped by. Of course…

"You should have told me he was here!" you protested again.

"What would have been the use to that?" Ahlem replied with a shrug while she readjusted the red roses.

"To warn me? To just… tell me! He's my ex!"

"The man was a jerk, don't act like he wasn't."

"He wasn't just a jerk."

She heaved a sigh, shaking her head.

"This is ridiculous. He treated you so badly when the two of you broke up…"

"I did break his heart," you replied.

"This wedding would have been a catastrophe and you were right to put an end to it."

Ahlem check the time and headed back inside to officially open the flower shop for the day. She readjusted her hijab before helping you moving a rather large palm tree. Your palm tree. It wasn't for sail, you just adored the plant. You had planted it with you ex actually, and now that the memory came back to you, you looked at the tree with a perplex expression.

"Anyway, he's gone now, I sent him away. And that's for the best."

"What did he even want? Did he tell you?"

You noticed immediately the nervous way she tugged at her apron, although Ahlem shook her head in denial.

"Ahlem…"

"What? He didn't say."

"You're lying!"

"I'm not lying!"

"Yes, you are!"

"I am not…"

"Pinocchio, your nose is showing!"

She rolled her eyes, but didn't dare to deny the truth again. Instead, she remained silent. You heaved a frustrated sigh.

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Because there's no need to make you sad," she earnestly answered, and you couldn't manage to be mad at her anymore.

So instead of insisting, you patted her shoulder.

"Next time, do tell me he was here, okay?"

She nodded, and you exchanged a smiled. After all, she just wanted to protect you. The same way you would have protected her. But the news of your ex being back in town was not exactly what you would have defined as a good way to start the day.

The young morning was bathing San Francisco in light that still contained traces of the golden glimmer of dawn. The streets were already filled with people hurrying to work, cars honking and children shouting as they walked to school. Before you walked back into your shop, you took a couple of steps in the street, watching the sun shining on the bay. You were lucky to live in one of these streets from which you could see the water glimmering in the distance. These endless streets that looked like they would never stop climbing had at least this advantage of having a nice view. And the long road of Pierce Street was one of them. Across the street, Mrs. Princeton was giving water to her impressive collection of geraniums, that she had placed on the edges of her windows, decorating her large white house. You waved at the old lady as she appeared at a new window, and you could see the giggle on her lips as she waved back at you. You turned back towards the red brick walls of your shop, but were stopped by the sound of very loud laughs coming from your left, and you had to turn towards the source of such a noise.

Behind you, the Alta Plaza Park stretched its grass still shimmering from the morning dew. You recognized the two boys who were laughing as they ran down the few steps that separated the inside of the park and Jackson Street.

"Lorenzo! David! Be careful!" you admonished as they pushed each other playfully, still running down the stairs and jumping above the last step.

"Yes, Y/N!" they chanted, but didn't slow down.

"One day one of you will fall and I won't be the one to take you to the hospital for a broken arm!" you warned them, but they merely laughed at you.

They crossed the street to reach you and give you a hug. Every morning and every afternoon they passed before your shop on their way to school, their parents living on Clay Street, on the other side of the park. The two twelve-year-old boys were adorable. They often came to your shop after school and helped you out a little, or merely stole all the biscuits and chocolate that you kept in the drawer of your desk. After all, you were friends with their parents, and the four of them knew very well that if they wanted to find their boys, they merely had to cross the park and come to your shop.

"Be good today!" you went on in that same motherly tone.

"We're always good!" Lorenzo protested, and you playfully messed up his dark hair in response.

"Of course you're not! Little devils!"

"But that's why you love us," David replied with a cocky smile, and you couldn't refrain a bright laugh.

"That's quite true…" you admitted. "Now, off you go, or you'll be late to school."

"Have you received these new flowers you were expecting?" Lorenzo asked, ignoring your order.

"I have," you nodded with an excited smile. "This very morning. I'll show you this afternoon after school. Deal?"

"Cool!" the two children excitedly answered, before giving you a high five and running down the street.

"And be careful!" you admonished from afar, but they ignored you again.

Ahlem walked out of the shop, chuckling.

"Well… you know that you're not their mother, right?" she teased you, and you merely ordered her to shut up in response.

And she doubled with laughter.

You heaved a dramatic sigh, walking back in your shop filled with love and flowers.

This shop… you had dreamt about it since you were a child. And for six years it had been filling your life with happiness. It was your dream coming true.

A smile formed on your lips at the thought.

After all, your life was quite good indeed.

At least… for now…

 ---------------------------------------------------------------

 "And then my grandson was looking for the spoons, and he was opening all the drawers in hurry like he was fulfilling an important mission… and all the while the cat was looking at the birthday cake and I was certain that the cake would not survive that bloody cat! But after finally finding a spoon, Paul turned back towards the cake, and he noticed the cat sitting on the edge of the table and staring at the food, and he looked at me with his big black eyes, you know… and with a very serious face he pointed at the cat and asked 'bad cat?'"

You and Mrs. Princeton laughed hard, and you heard Ahlem chuckling as well as she brought some tea for the three of you.

"In the end, I pushed the cat away, but for the rest of the evening, Paul kept on repeating 'bad cat' everytime he was coming near the table."

The old woman let out a loud wave of laughter and you soon joined her.

"He's adorable," you nodded before drinking a gulp of hot tea.

"He is, he is," she nodded with so much love eyes in her dark eyes.

The afternoon was stretching into a lazy sunny day. Around 3 pm there weren't so many customers for your shop, as usual. It would become busier as people would come home from work. You weren't complaining though. The calm allowed you to take a cup of tea with your neighbour every day. Her long, black fingers wrapped around the cup with a little shakiness in them that came with old age, but she was such a witty and kind woman, she didn't act like her age, that was for certain. And on many subjects, she had a benevolence and an open mind that some younger adults lacked these days. You felt so lucky to count her as your friend…

You were interrupted as the little bell above the front door of the flower shop rang, and you stood up in a hurry.

"Do you want me to deal with that client?" Ahlem kindly proposed, but you shook your head.

"Enjoy your tea, I'll be back in a sec."

You walked through the back room and to the main shop to attend to this new customer of yours. You discovered there, lost in the hibiscus section, a tall woman, blond, blue eyes, and extremely beautiful. You could only acknowledge that. A shame that she wore such a condescending expression on her attractive features.

"Hello," you welcomed her with a bright smile. "How can I help you?"

"Are you the owner of the shop? Y/N Y/L/N?"

You nodded in affirmation.

"Well, I was looking for you actually," she gave you a pinched smile. "I am going to get married in a couple of weeks, and I would need someone to take care of the flowers. You came as highly recommended."

"Congratulations!" you grinned. "Of course, I would be happy to help! Would you like to set an appointment so we can talk in detail about what you would like and what I can do for you? Or do you have the time now?"

"Oh, no, not now… I'm expected somewhere. But perhaps I could come back tomorrow? 2 pm?"

"Perfect, yes. I'm sure we can find something that will make you happy. Will your fiancé be attending too?"

"I will see with him if he is available."

"Well, I'll see you again tomorrow then… but if I may ask… who recommended my shop to you?"

"My fiancé, actually! He is… well acquainted with your business."

"Oh, really? You… you live in the neighbourhood?"

"He used to. And he was adamant at having you taking care of the floral arrangements."

"For how long have you two been together?"

"Two months… I know, it's not so much time, but… when you know, you know."

"It's beautiful, actually! You must really love each other a lot."

"We do."

She checked her very expensive watch and gave you another one of her blank smiles.

"I have to go, but I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes, have a great day."

The blond woman walked out of the shop and into the street. The bright California sun was so hot on her skin. She put on her Ray Ban sunglasses, and walked with an energetic pace towards the tiny park on her right. She climbed up the few steps to enter the space filled with grass and trees. She ignored the children laughing and the couples kissing. Instead, she headed straight for a bench where a man all dressed in black was sitting.

Logan welcomed his colleague with a smile.

"So?" he asked with a toothy smile.

"Tomorrow, 2 pm," Natasha answered with a content smile as she sat down by Logan's side.

"Brilliant."

"You were right about her… she is… disgustingly kind."

"Isn't she?"

"That's a challenge to make her turn."

"I love challenges. And my plan is brilliant, it'll work."

Of course, it would work. After a month spent studying you and your habits, he knew exactly how to destroy your world in such a way that you would sign anything to get it all back. After a month watching you, he had developed his plan. He had needed two more months to allow Natasha to seduce the pawn that would be used for his first move against you. And now, after three months of hard work, everything was finally ready. And he couldn't wait to win this battle.

"She asked me who had recommended her shop," Natasha chuckled with a cruel tone in her voice.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Logan frowned.

"Of course not. I mean, I merely told her that my fiancé knew her shop. I can't wait to be tomorrow to see the look on her face when her ex passes through that door with me."

"I'm glad to see that you enjoy your role in this game of mine."

"Simon is a beautiful man, how could I not enjoy it? Breaking the hearts of attractive men… there's no more delightful activity after all."

"Poor thing…"

They both laughed.

"After tomorrow, she'll be broken-hearted," Logan smiled. "And she will need a knight in shining armour."

"Or well, in your case… a demon in black," Natasha chuckled.

"Indeed. And once I'm in… it'll all be done quickly."

"I hope so. If you fail this mission, your neck might be in danger."

"I've never failed."

"I would miss you if Joshua was forced to break your skull."

"Me? Really?" Logan raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Well, when I say you, I mean sex with you, obviously."

"Now, that sounds more like the Natasha that I know: ruthless, heartless and always ready to have a great time."

"I can't wait to see her little bubble of happiness explode. So much good makes me sick."

Logan let a smile form on his lips as he leaned against the back of the bench, turning his face towards the warm sun, and closing his eyes behind his dark sunglasses.

"Oh, don't worry. The bubble will explode indeed…"

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

Tag list : ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity @i-padfootblack-things @presstocontinue @ilmiopiccolounivers0 @madamrogers @drinix @sad-orange-thoughts @mxrihollxd @geeksareunique @giggleberts @sad-orange-thoughts @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @madamrogers @drinix @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @rockintensse @newtstarmander @whovianayesha @raquelbc2003 @millionsleeplessnights

[kae-karo]

you obvs dont have to but could you do a 'just imagine' of dnp carving pumpkins? 🧡🧡🧡🧡🧡

i may not have to but i also definitely have to bc we may not get a pumpkin carving vid and i need to at least pretend...

don’t imagine the tiny pie pumpkin dan’s chosen, bc it’s cute uwu and phil’s lopsided, slightly lumpy one bc it’s unique, dan, to which dan replies that it’s just like phil with that stupid fond ‘i’m teasing u but also ily’ tone/grin where he stares at the camera n implies phil’s a weirdo but also he’s dan’s weirdo

don’t imagine the wielding of knives, the caution with which phil holds his and the erratic gesticulating dan does with his before phil starts freaking out just a bit and tells him to be careful. don’t imagine dan shaking his head, then, but putting the knife down anyway

don’t imagine phil smacking the pumpkin before explaining that they’re gonna be carving them (complete with an eye-roll from dan bc what else would we do, you idiot, we sure as f*** aren’t making a pie) 

don’t imagine dan stabbing enthusiastically into the pumpkin - the only time he makes such a dramatic gesture, because he actually wants to do this well

don’t imagine the moderately clean cuts dan manages to make to get the top off, and the more haphazard and far more terrifying cuts phil makes, yelping the first time he pulls the knife back out because it was stuck, dan, i’m actually terrified, you have to pull it out for me. which dan doesn’t do, bc it’s phil’s pumpkin and you have to do it yourself, phil, or it’s not your pumpkin!

don’t imagine dan waiting patiently for phil to finish, watching him start to scoop the guts out, and suggesting that (in spite of phil’s disgusted face) he looks like he’s having a great time, and phil should scoop the guts out of dan’s pumpkin as well

don’t imagine phil’s vehement protest whilst still trying to spoon the guts out. don’t imagine dan trying to do it with a spoon as well, with only moderately more success. and absolutely don’t imagine phil finally giving up and digging his hands in, and his little ‘oh’ when he decides it actually feels a lot like slime, i forgot! it’s quite satisfying

don’t imagine dan’s head shake and fond smile as he stubbornly attempts to get everything out with a spoon, bc his is smaller so it should work, right?

don’t imagine a cut of phil flinging a bit of pumpkin guts at dan, dan’s offended phil! scream (or maybe it’ll be a low and horrified ‘phil lester what have you done’) before he grabs some of his own pumpkin guts and flings it right back at phil. don’t imagine them both giggling at each other, orange bits flying, before another cut

don’t imagine them both focused on designing their carvings then, phil going for something slightly ambitious and not really weird but certainly not completely conventional, and then dan going for something horrible that’s on par with his newer branding (honestly what like a giant hole? a swirling void? idk lmao but ultimately it will be branded in some way - maybe a frowning jack o lantern face)

don’t imagine dan’s attempted super precise cutting, which is actually not half bad, while phil’s struggling to get the knife through the pumpkin again bc it’s ‘one thicc bih’ (that term is the one you should not imagine him using)

don’t imagine the return of the chill - albeit slightly tenser bc y’know knives - atmosphere from the pizza mukbang, where they’re moderately focused on carving but also just chatting casually. maybe abt the tour, maybe abt halloween, maybe abt inconsequential things, but just chatting

don’t imagine dan throwing one of his cut-out bits at phil at some point when phil’s distracted, fully focused on his own cutting. and don’t imagine dan’s big giant grin when phil yelps, calls him daniel and tells him to cut it out

to which dan goes ‘cut it out’ and makes that awful sound they do when one of them makes a pun

don’t imagine this lasting for however long, until they’ve both finished and are proudly (or mostly proudly) displaying their carvings. don’t imagine dan’s through-gritted-teeth comment that his own 'could be worse’ before he spends the next five minutes genuinely complimenting everything abt phil’s pumpkin (with a few teasing jokes added in for good measure bc he can’t be seen to be too fond)

don’t imagine phil disappearing, then, with promises of a surprise (which earns him a groan and rolled eyes from dan, who’s not at all ready to cope with whatever phil’s got in mind) and returning with scented tea light candles. the one for dan is black (but not black licorice, i know you hate that)

don’t imagine phil lighting his candle before putting it in, and dan’s fond ‘you idiot’ before telling him to blow it out and put the candle in first or he’ll burn his hand off. don’t imagine phil’s (way too overdone) joke that he’s glad dan said that or he’d be phil is on fire (don’t imagine the ensuing groan from dan)

don’t imagine them being genuinely pretty proud of their pumpkins (which dan will say in that tone that means he actually is unexpectedly proud of himself and of phil) and don’t imagine the instant #spon for the ii movie before they end the vid

and definitely don’t imagine one last lil clip a la legacy-dinof-style right at the very end of them throwing pumpkin guts at each other again

[twtrv]

an accurate guide about red velvet

So since so many people are getting into Red Velvet recently, I decided to make a guide to help them out. You know, give yall some slack because learning five names is super hard. A guide accompanied by my half-assed jokes, interesting. 

PSA: If you’re only here to stan the girls because of their recent comebacks like Peek-A-Boo and Bad Boy and are going to drop them as soon as they release tracks similar to Dumb Dumb and Ice Cream Cake, leave because we don’t want you here.

Now that we got that out of the way, let’s get straight to business (TO DEFEAT THE HUNS WHY DID THEY SEND ME DAUGHTERS WHEN I ASKED FOR SONS)

Basic Facts

Red Velvet is a South Korean girl group formed by SM Entertainment in 2014.

There are five members (OT4 stans can choke).

They debuted on August 1st in 2014 with a single called “Happiness”.

Fandom name is Reveluv. Since “rêve” means “dream” in French, the meaning behind the fandom name is that us, Reveluvs, make their dreams come true and Red Velvet gives us their immense love in return, thus the “luv” part. Sometimes they also call us “Luvies”.

Official fandom colour is pastel coral and not red because l o g i c

The fact that they were formed by SM Entertainment doesn’t mean they got a free ride to the top so sit your entitled asses down, thanks.

Now, you see, they weren’t actually supposed to debut in 2014. I bet you must be confused but don’t worry, it is I, your trusty homie, that is gonna help you realize how many similarities every student has with SM lmao plus the reason for their early debut.

2014 was a rough year for our buddy Lee Soo Man. Jessica left Girl’s Generation; Sulli left f(x); Kris, Tao and Luhan left EXO... This, of course, caused a goddamn World War III amongst the fans of the respective groups. They were about to go in front of the official SM building with torches and pitchforks to demand SM to step up their game. To calm the situation down, our amigo SM must have thought: “Welp I sure fucked up. How the hell do I fix this? Wait, I have an idea! Let’s debut another girl group to cover up all the shit that has been piling up for years now!” 

And your boi gone and did it. He basically debuted another group despite the number of problems he had to deal with already. This is every student ever, just make another problem to cover up the first one.

Red Velvet debuted with four members; Irene, Seulgi, Wendy and Joy. The “Happiness” music video got 2 million views in a day and was the most viewed kpop music video for the month of August in 2014. See, the queens already breaking records.

However, the original version of “Happiness” was full of controversial topics such as 9/11 being the most prominent one. This caused such hate to the girls that everyone started calling them “flops”. Lmao Red Velvet stays unbothered as the kpop act with the most Billboard charted albums bYE.

Some of you still may be wondering what the hell happened with Yeri. Well, because their debut was rushed and due to her age, Yeri, unfortunately, couldn’t debut with them. When Red Velvet debuted, Yeri was 15 years old so basically a child. 

“bUt jiSUnG fROM ncT DreAM dEBuTed wHeN hE WAs onlY FoUrteEn”

Before, there was a law which stated that kids under the age of 16 couldn’t debut.

No need to worry fellow Yeri stans! Red Velvet only released another single called “Be Natural” before Yeri was officially added. The single featured NCT’s Taeyong on it too so if you are one of those fangirls, better go and check it out because your oppar is there + it is an underrated bop.

Yeri was added to the group during Ice Cream Cake era! Of course, many people hated her, acting as if Red Velvet released so many songs and solved world hunger without Yeri. Um, bitch they had two songs take a seat.

Discography and music in general lol

IT IS GOLD!1!!!!111!!

Okay listen, every single song of theirs makes me thot-drop in the middle of the goddamn school. Jesus Christ sunbaenim is shaking.

Albums:  Ice Cream Cake, The Red, The Velvet, Russian Roulette, Rookie, The Red Summer, Perfect Velvet, The Perfect Red Velvet.

Queens of naming their albums don’t even @ me.

Listen to every single song if you want to cure your depression, clear your skin, feed your children and harvest your crops. Seriously, all of their b-sides are so amazing and such bops they are worth a listen and you, as a person who chose to stan Red Velvet, deserve to have your ears cleansed.

Another topic that I want to bring up is “the red concept” and “the velvet concept”. It is not complicated. Basically what it means is that they split their concepts into two. The red concepts are more upbeat, catchy and poppy songs such as Dumb Dumb, Rookie, Russian Roulette etc. However, the velvet concept is where they show their mature, more serious ballads. Songs that represent the velvet side are Automatic, One of These Nights, Peek-A-Boo etc.

They filmed 13 music videos so you are going to get attacked by visuals 13 times, good luck.

The members 

The most interesting and fun part of this guide to be honest. So yeah, five members and five completely different personalities. Trust me, you’re gonna love every single one of these girls because they all have such amazing personalities and are extremely funny. Get abroad the homo express!

- Stage name: Irene

- Real name: Bae Joohyun

- Colour: Pink

- Position: Leader, Visual, Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Vocal

- She really is a bae tho we love a powerful woman

- Born on March 29th, 1991; the eldest

- She literally looks five what the fuck

- tiny

- Takes pictures of everyone and everything so that she can stare at them while she does the laundry because she is such a mom

- “Shut the fuck up I am not a mom”

- A GODDESS PLUS TOP VISUAL OF THIS GENERATION NO PRINTER JUST FAX

- loves pussy

- Drinks men tears to stay hydrated

- Forgets names of her kids aka the rest of Red Velvet

- Snorts laundry detergent

- Talk shit get hit

- Silent but plotting world domination with her at the top

- Speaking of tops, she doms bYE

- She survived the World War II and was Stalin's deskmate when they were in the third grade

- xXButtLoverXx

- Likes winning. Who got to the finish line first? Her. Who travelled to space first? Her. Who found the cure for world hunger? Her.

- Actually very talented in everything she does and is a blessing to humanity

- Stage name: Seulgi

- Real name: Kang Seulgi

- Colour: Orange

- Position: Main Dancer, Lead Vocal

- Either as fluffy as a teddy bear or a fucking sex God there is no in between

- Born on February 10th, 1994; second eldest

- hER EYES MAKE ME QUESTION MY SEXUALITY

- She, in general, makes me question my sexuality

- also tiny

- “Hello I am the 71st prettiest face in the world”

- First half of the “DD” also known as “Dumbass Duo”

- Someone help her she is lost in time and space

- The type of person to put a red sock to wash with the whites

- Is not capable of doing the splits because she dumb lmao

- How the fuck is one this confused???

- Gets bullied by her members a lot

- A sunshine in human form. You know that sun from the Teletubbies? That be Seulgi

- Her abs make me feel like Kylie Jenner, y’know... pregnant

- “If there’s no food I’m going home”

- THE number one fan of Beyonce™

- Pringles advocate

- She didn’t train for 7 years to have people shit talking her because she is multitalented and leaves people all around the world shooketh

- Stage name: Wendy

- Real name: Son Seungwan

- Colour: Blue

- Position: Main Vocal, English speaker

- Is also a HELLA good rapper

- Born on February 21st, 1994; third eldest

- Used to live in Toronto when she was younger, her English proceeds to give everyone a boner

- the tiniest out of all

- The kpop singer with the widest vocal range (this is an actual fact)

- “S H I N E  O N  M E”

- So caring it makes me bawl. She literally cooks for everyone and is so supportive it is truly beautiful

- Is actually the one behind the iconic “PARK SOOYOUNG! WHEN YOU SMILE I SMILE TOO”

- If she ever covers your song, you can say goodbye to it because it’s hers now

- A soccer mom

- Also that famous Kris Jenner “You’re doing amazing sweetie” meme

- Rescue her scalp someone pls

- Probably used “WHOMST” once in her lifetime unironically

- The gayest out of all the gays

- She is a boob person and also has a very nice butt Irene knows

- Once stacked a gazillion hats on top of her head because why the fuck not

- Is also a sexy pornstar ... no wait, I meant a “saxophonist”

- Is so beautiful and deserves all the love in this entire world but the world doesn’t deserve her at all 

- Stage name: Joy

- Real name: Park Sooyoung

- Colour: Green

- Position: Lead Rapper, Lead Vocal, Mood-maker

- + an actress

- Born on September 3rd, 1996: fourth eldest

- Invented “cute” and “sexy” don’t fight me on this

- TALL (for a Red Velvet member lmfao)

- Has the prettiest profile, God took extra time in crafting such a masterpiece

- Speaking of God... God is real and in a form of Park Sooyoung

- Likes finer things in life such as herself

- If the song “Me Too” was a human, it would be her

- Ruthless

- When she gets scared her soul deadass leaves her body and it is hilarious

- A dramatic bitch

- HAS THE BEST BODY SORRY YALL CAN’T COMPETE

- Can get very angery

- Probably was kinkshamed by someone once

- Is having a mental breakdown at every waking moment

- “Can you stop I’m very sensitive”

- Tom to Yeri’s Jerry

- Just the most amazing human being, an all-rounder and a happy virus

- Stage name: Yeri

- Real name: Kim Yerim

- Colour: Purple

- Position: Maknae, Lead Rapper, Sub Dancer, Vocal, Songwriter

- Is being an absolute savage a talent?

- Born on March 5th, 1999; the youngest

- The other half of the “Dumbass Duo”

- So much sass is contained in this tiny human being

- Plans to take over SM soon one day

- HAS THE MOST CONTAGIOUS LAUGH IN THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE AND IT IS SO GENUINE I LOVE IT

- Likes pineapple on pizza cancelled

- The OG Sone

- A mess

-  (ง •̀_•́)ง

- Not a big spoon nor a little spoon, she a knife

- Tries her best

- Knows everyone and everything; what a social butterfly it warms my heart

- Likes to read smut so all of you smut fanfiction writers, watch out, she is lurking

- SPEAKING OF LURKING

- She lowkey had a fan account that was all about Girl’s Generation

- A woman we all aspire to be

- Is an actual cinnamon roll that yes, could kill you but everyone loves her because she really improved a lot. WE WATCHED HER GROW UP INTO A BEAUTIFUL WOMAN SHE IS NOW B L E S S

Popular ships, let’s play a game where you guess which two people are paired up (not like it is completely obvious)

SEULRENE 

WENRENE

WENSEUL

JOYRI

YERENE

JOYGI

JOYDY

WENRI

SEULRI

Ending note

On a more serious note, Red Velvet is an amazing girl group that deserves so much more. I hope this at least got you to check them out. If not, your loss lol.

I could use a fuckton adjectives to describe their perfection but trust me, that ain’t enough.

Anyways, OT4 stans can fuck off, don’t comment on this post.

Just love all the girls and don’t point out their insecurities in a rude way mmkay?

This is all from me and I hope you enjoyed and that this helped you and maybe made you chuckle (maybe?)

If there is another question that you want me to answer, ask me because I would love to.

P.S. It doesn’t have to be Red Velvet related because I am trash that stans more groups than the number of bad jokes I made in this post.

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