#in case y'all were confused where this blog stands! here you go

[transpersian]

Did you really go on Poppy’s stream to harass her? Christ, it looks like your friends from Kiwi Farms are rubbing off on you. Did you really think that move would convince people you aren’t a vindictive and malicious ex?

So let me get this straight: you think that I went on their directly controlled gg site to "harass" them, where they would easily and quickly be able to ban me, and for the first and only message guaranteed to go through, I picked "oh hey am I somehow unblocked? lol" as the best way to hurt them in that moment?

Please, I am begging you to think about how absurd of an accusation that is. While I'm sure that they've made a convincing case in isolation for why I'm insane, I would hope that I haven't come across as completely fucking stupid.

Here, you can look at the whole clip yourself. See what I said. Does that seem like someone who's locked and loaded for some prime harassin' time?

lol

No, what happened was that I went to their GG site for the stream because I like being able to scroll through chat if I miss something. I noticed my old account was still accessible, so, being the silly little dipshit ball of chaos that I am most of the time, I typed what I typed and hit "send," fully expecting it to reject the message.

It did not, and I immediately regretted my actions to the level of shouting, "Oh no, oh NO! OH SHIT."

It was very funny, but not nearly as funny as watching Poppy try to navigate the moment live. "You don't get to be in my chat" was particularly good; I literally don't care. I have no use for their chat. What am I going to do, argue live with their fans who have absolutely no context or reason to listen to me? No.

There are a lot of people getting involved here who have no window into who I am or what my personality is beyond the text on this blog, so a lot of you don't know what a derpy little ball of chaos I can be. This was a chaos ball derp moment.

And honestly, aside from my posts on my own accounts, I’m confused as to what you’re calling “harassment.” Them calling this a harassment/hate campaign doesn’t make it one; it means they’re trying to stop anyone from looking at what I have to say.

I’ve actively, publicly pushed back against people using the g-word to describe her. I pushed back against the pedojacketing. I’ve corrected misinformation on other posts. I unpinned the “SFW Spaces” tweet as soon as I saw that they’d fixed their pre-roll.

As wild as it may sound from where you’re sitting, I’m actually a very reasonable person. I mean, do y'all still think this is fueled by breakup spite? Seriously?

Please hear me when I say this: my life as it stands now is better than it was when I was dating Poppy in literally every respect. Better environments, more empathetic and emotionally intelligent community leaders, better support, more intelligent conversations, no constant battles to defend something you like because Poppy wants to be act snobby and condescending about it, etc.

My darling partner and fellow "evil ex" @helavitrum and I strongly agree that we've both scored massive upgrades, and I can't tell you how wonderful it's been to reunite with other people looking for refuge after they see the rotten core of The Foundation for what it is. They’re people as good as PZ pretend to be and they’re looking for like-minded individuals, just like we are.

See, I recognize that the reason they're telling you that I'm just some crazy, obsessive, “psychotic” ex isn’t because they deliberately want to hide the truth; they see what I say as manipulation and lies because they literally do not recognize the harm they've done. What I'm doing doesn't make sense to them in any other way, so that's the translation they share with everyone else.

They have no idea what motivates me.

I mean, yes, I still get upset about the things they said and did, but not because it's still eating away at me or something; it's because they were incredibly shitty things that go against everything that PZ supposedly stand for, and they're continuing to perpetuate this harm against others who come to them for safety.

I get upset because I know so much more about the larger picture and how the behaviors you see in my account are only scratching the surface.

It’s okay, though. Genuinely, I mean this: I understand how you feel about me and I don’t begrudge you your feelings. I don’t think you’re a bad person for thinking these things. If I were in your shoes with just the information that you have available to you, I’d look at me like I was crazy, too.

But the thing is that you think you're protecting a "Lindsay Ellis.” You're not. You're protecting people more akin to iilluminaughtii. Or Lily Orchard.

If you genuinely care about the truth, you should read what I have to offer as far as evidence because, at the very least, I am providing evidence. Practically everything they've said about me (and others) has been their word with nothing else to back it up, uncontested by anyone else involved because their goal is not resolution or honesty; it's control.

And I don't just mean that you should read what I've already provided. I understand if that's not enough for you to understand what I'm doing.

I mean what's coming.

I can only present it, though. It's up to you to decide whether you want to form your own opinion or have it fed to you exclusively by the alleged abusers (and their inner circle).

Until then, I wish I could share more, but I can't because I don't want it spinning off into wild, out-of-control conjecture.

Unlike PZ, I respect the weight of what I've been entrusted with too much to mishandle it for the sake of saving face.

[sammyblep]

Hey sorry I’m just rambling on here in your inbox but I’m too scared to actually share this but I just need to tell someone what I think, which is about all the hate police are getting. Yes, it’s horrible what some are doing and actions should be taken but I don’t know it feels wrong to lash out against all of them? Most are actually decent people, punished because of a few bad. It feels like the world needs to step back and take a deep breath. There’s a solution somewhere, but this isn’t it.

Let me as best I can explain the reasoning behind the “all cops are bastards” mentality, which is what you’re referring to here and which I agree with:

If you stand by knowing that someone is doing something deeply wrong - like, say, taking advantage of their power to murder people of color for doing innocent things - and you don’t do anything when you absolutely could, even if it was doing something as simple as saying “hey that’s wrong,” that’s a bad thing. A person who does nothing in that situation is a bad person.

And that is what all cops do - regardless of whether they perform the murders themselves - all cops do this. The entirely theoretical number of cops who actually report and turn in their fellow cops for police brutality, abuse of power, and murder is so low as to be utterly negligible. Cops don’t report each other. There’s this whole mentality about cops being a sort of brotherhood, a family thicker than blood, whatever descriptor you want to use - basically, cops are expected to have each others’ backs above all else. That’s why they don’t turn each other in, deliberately tamper with evidence to hide their fellows’ crimes, outright lie about what happened, use excessive force in so many situations, and do so many other unjust things that harm the people they’re supposedly working for.

Even if they are good people at home, in the community, at the fucking puppy shelter where they volunteer on the weekends - when someone is a cop, because of what I explained above, they are a bad person. Because at best, they do nothing to stop the racial violence that is so incredibly prevalent in their more murderous peers. At worst, they do the murder themselves.

This is why the protests are happening. This is why people are so against cops, are calling for external investigations, are calling for them to be demilitarized or shut down or whatever. Because until the people who are supposed to stop racial violence are actually guaranteed to do their job or otherwise face genuine consequences, the fight for social justice and an end to racial violence cannot stop.

And like I said, all cops at best do nothing to stop racial violence. So we keep protesting and demanding justice for the people it kills, whose killers get to walk away without consequence.

So no, I do not currently have any sympathy for cops. I can appreciate why you might, anon, but I do not agree with it.

That said: I recognize the times right now are terrifying. I just learned an hour ago that my city now has a curfew that lasts nearly half the day because the looting got so bad and because someone got shot. I’m also terrified - I think it’s healthy, honestly, to be scared. I’m terrified of what’s going to happen to protestors next. But we tried kneeling. We tried marching peacefully. We have tried so many ways to fight this fight without violence - nothing has worked. So there are riots, and right now, that is the solution available to us.

I’m guessing none of this is what you wanted to hear, anon, but I’m still glad you reached out about it. Take care of yourself, take some time off the internet, go snuggle your pets if you have any. Let me know if there’s anything else you want to know, or any other opinions you’d like to share (and thank you for being polite about it despite the topic, by the way. Always a nice thing.)

And in the end, the bottom line is this: Black Lives Matter. And the way this country works should goddamn reflect that for once.

A note: I am a white ally who is doing her best to be accurate and express these things in solidarity with POC and BLM, but I am also, frankly, quite new to actually discussing this. I’ve been doing research and taking notes from the protesters and POC I’ve seen talking about it, but please let me know what I’m doing wrong and how to fix it. More than anything, I want to help.

[thehollowprince]

When we talk about Stiles and whether or not we dislike him, we tag those posts as anti to avoid the confusion and confrontation / Funny. ‘Cause I clearly remember asking you to remove one of your anti Stiles - pro Scott post (the one with the Scott and Theo gif) from the Stiles Stilinski tag and tag it as ‘Anti Stiles Stilinski’, but not only you ignored my ask, you also kept your Stiles bashing post in the character tag on purpose so that his fans could see you hating on him to prop Scott up.

I was wondering where you slunk off to.

What I find really amusing about this is that you and I clearly have different definitions of the term "bashing". In that ask, which you can again read here, I was talking about the phenomenon of Stiles in Scott's clothing (or Scott in Stiles clothing, whichever tickles your peach), i.e. the whole scenario where fandom takes Scott, a character they claim to hate and dress him up in a Stiles suit when it comes to fanfiction and meta.

If you'd actually read my response, you'd have noticed I actually talked about what I liked about Stiles... in canon, that is. Just in case, here it is again.

That's why so many people jumped onto the whole Stiles as a Druid/Darach, or any number of other powerful beings. The thing is, in their efforts to make Stiles special, they're erasing what made him special in the first place. How many regular humans could run with wolves? He wasn't a hunter, or a druid, or even something akin to Lydia's banshee. He had no superhuman powers, whatsoever, and yet he still ran with the Pack. It was his willingness to stick by his friend despite being one of the most vulnerable that made him special.

You see, I actually praised Stiles for being Stiles in the canon. Stiles had plenty of good things going for him in canon, y'all just completely ignore it for whatever fantasy you made up.

But let's finish this up with a look at the hypocrisy here. For years, we've been asking people like you to either stay out of the Scott McCall tag with your hate, or tag it appropriately, and yet still, on a weekly basis, we get someone in the tag hating on him. I made one (1) post that didn't paint Stiles as a living saint and within an hour you were in my inbox harassing me over it. If you can't stand to see us talk about your fave in an even remotely critical fashion, what makes you think we enjoy seeing people like you hating on Scott in his own tags?

Grow up and stop stalking my blog if you don't want to see my opinions.

[bakudekuficlibrary]

Do you have any fics where bakugou is disabled? Yalls blog is sooooo wonderful, and I love yall sooooo much. 😍😍😍😍😍😍💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Hey there! I’d like to note firstly that I’m able-bodied and I’m definitely not an expert on what is or isn’t a disability. I’ve tried to include all the physical and non-physical disabilities I could find. If I’ve been offensive or inconsiderate in any way here, please let me know.

- Jay

1 Series. 38 Works. 

Physical Disabilities 

The Way You Used To Do by edema_ruh( T |298,721+ | 18/? )

“We’re really sorry,” his father says, in a teary-eyed, wobbly way. “But your friend, Izuku, he’s… He’s gone, son.”

Katsuki can do nothing but blink up at them for moments that feel like an eternity, eyes darting between both his parents in obvious confusion, disbelief, and, more than anything, indignation.

“What the fuck are you two talking about? The damn nerd is standing right beside you!”

During a battle, Midoriya gets hit by a villain whose quirk detaches his soul from his body. Stuck in a ghost-like state, the boy enters a race against time in order to save himself from permanently dying. Much to his luck - or lack of it -, the only person who can see and talk to him in his state is no one other than Kacchan.

Alternatively: Deku and Kacchan have their souls bound to each other.

[PTSD]

[On Hiatus] That’s That by Fif Sold Her Soul( T |26,079+ | 8/? )

After receiving a life-changing injury that leaves him unable to do any hero work, Bakugou does the best next thing to save face and hide his condition from the world; He becomes a teacher at U.A

Easy right?

Apart from dealing with his rambunctious homeroom class, the new and annoying as fuck generation of villains, his new protégé, and his crippling self-esteem issues, and his crush on fucking Deku, all while hiding his condition from the world, then yeah pretty easy. Not.

Bakugou suddenly has a fuckton respect for Aizawa.

[Abuse | Suicide Mention]

Missed Connections by Labellevita( M |9,765+ | 3/5 )

Deaf Uni student Bakugou can’t catch a break, but he does catch the scent of a fantastic smelling omega.

Dull by choimarie( G |714 | 1/1 )

day 2: your eyes

“What? Never have seen a hot dude before?”

SeriesPart 2 of Bakudeku week 2k18

Tired by igrewupwiththis( Not Rated |10,980 | 2/2 )

Bakugou is just so exhausted, and he needs someone who takes care of him. y'all already know who it is.

Let’s Start Over Again by BrightEyesEren( T |4,107 | 1/1 )

Ten years down the road. Izuku and Katsuki went their separate ways, living their own lives, until they meet again after a tragic turn of events.

Izuku realises how fragile fire actually is.

love is blind (and deaf) by kagehinataboke( T |789 | 1/1 )

Izuku hesitantly opens the door, wielding an umbrella and ready to square up against a mugger. but it’s only one of his neighbors: a new one, in fact. Izuku faintly recalls him moving in a few weeks ago, but one unfriendly glare was enough to stop him from approaching.

he discreetly drops the umbrella behind the door. “can i help you?”

— a bakudeku one-shot

Thought So by zuccin( G |771 | 1/1 )

Midoriya watches Katsuki walk away as he remember the sorrowful past. And he’s glad everything turned out in the end.

I guess… I’ll just… fuckin’ read this by TheGeekProblem( G |1,533 | 1/1 )

Izuku works the graveyard shift in a diner and he’s really tired. A group of people come at 2 a.m. What could go wrong?

Senses by Phayte( E |22,294+ | 6/? )

In a freak accident through battle, Bakugou loses his sight. This is the story of his struggle, downward spiral, and the friends that get him through it.

Everything Before Mourning by hollyandvice( M |15,527 | 1/1 )

“Whatever this is has got you running scared, Kacchan. If it’s got you scared, it’s got me terrified. So please, just… just tell me what’s going on.”

Kacchan runs a hand over his face, suddenly looking old and tired and nothing at all like what Izuku is used to. It makes the tension in Izuku’s chest go even tighter, as though trying to suffocate him. Izuku bites back the fear that wants to spill over his tongue and tries to just pay attention to Kacchan.

Whatever this is, they’re going to get through it together.

When a fight with a villain has longer-reaching consequences than Kacchan expected, he calls on Izuku to help him through. Izuku doesn’t quite know what that will entail, but he knows he won’t back down from this. Not from Kacchan. Not ever.

Am I Ready? by Ryxmas( G |6,226 | 1/1 )

Even after one and a half years after his disappearance, Izuku never really stopped thinking about Katsuki. After all, Katsuki always had a habit of barging into your life, even if you never expected it.

No Warning by DeafBakugou( G |10,375 | 1/1 )

Bakugou survives a natural disaster and has to navigate the world without the normal accommodations he depends on as a Deaf individual.

Finding Out and Confessions by Needle_In_A_NeedleStack( G | 605 | 1/1 )

Bakugo is deaf, that’s why he’s always so loud. He hasn’t told anyone. So when Midoriya Izuku accidentally finds out Bakugo’s secret, how will things change.

Lost The Fight by Katt1848( T |1,733 | 1/1 )

Every Hero remembers the first time they weren’t able to save someone. This is Katsuki’s.

transfigured night by bittermoons( M |6,044 | 1/1 )

An unexpected hospital trip changes things between Izuku Midoriya, age forty-four, and his longtime roommate, co-parent, and co-composer, Katsuki Bakugou.

Migraines and Emotional Pains by Leonidas1754( G | 1,212 | 1/1 )

Bakugo gets migraines often, resulting in going home early and Midoriya taking care of him. Said migraines also often result in thinking too much about himself and Midoriya, and how much he simply doesn’t deserve Midoriya’s love. Thankfully, Midoriya still knows how to handle him.

[Abandoned] An Internship by Aizawa_mf_Shouta, Qnonymous( Not Rated |2,954 | 6/? )

Bakugou isn’t happy, and it only gets worse.

hole in the wall by imanimoon( M |1,214+ | 1/? )

The camera’s perspective shook as the holder zoomed in on the hero. Maybe they were hoping to catch the moment in which Zero would pull himself to his feet with gritted teeth and then, in a vicious roar, promise the demise of his opponent before seeing to it. As he always did.But he’d barely moved a muscle.The sound crackled on as someone yelled out to the hero before cutting off right after.“Why isn’t he moving?”What seemed like hours could only have been mere minutes before the camera caught someone’s faint whisper, their voice coated in trembling disbelief, “I-I don’t think he can.”

It’d been years since Japan had experienced a tragedy of this magnitude. Some even called it “The Leveling,” villains unleashing havoc around the city leaving hundreds of civilians dead, numerous buildings grounded, and even heroes brought to their knees.

When Bakugou awakens in a hospital without the ability to walk, he believes his life is over. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to retain his number one hero status as a “cripple”. It isn’t until his childhood friend re-enters his life and shows him firsthand that Pro-Heroes aren’t the only ones who can save people.

[Ableism | PTSD]

Champion by DirtyDeku( M |575 | 1/1 )

Hiya!! This is based on a few roleplays I’ve had with my dear friend!! I hope you all enjoy it.

[Rape/Non-Con]

Non-Physical Disabilities

[Series] Schizophrenic Bakugou by masteremeraldholder( T |22,496 | 3 Works | Complete )

In which, Bakugou Katsuki has schizophrenia, and how he deals with it in everyday life.

[Suicide Attempt | Self Harm | Panic Attacks | Ableism]

Longing for Clarity by sushisama( E |106,663+ | 16/23 )

Slice of life AU. Check notes in first chapter for more specific details.Katsuki is in his senior year, and though he’s dealing his own questionable mental condition, he can’t help the excitement of the upcoming graduation. But his boyfriend, Izuku, has been acting strange, being almost a little too intimate. They come to find out that Izuku is going through the fermin, a predicament certain Quirk holders go through. Now Katsuki is being forced into considering relinquishing the secrecy of their relationship, if only to keep all he wandering eyes from Izuku.

SeriesPart 1 of Fermin Story

And You Got To Me by hopeboiwonder( M |17,547 | 4/4 )

Katsuki’s need to immerse himself in something that wasn’t his new day in day out routine of working and sleeping leads him to discover a coffee shop in the middle of the night. Cafe Yagi.

Izuku’s hair billows and bunches, chasing after him like a salty, green ocean wave; churning up crests of bright shimmer from the light above. His eyes brown bowls speckled with rich golden rings around his pupils; and remind him of the thin film of crema on top of a freshly pulled espresso shot…

Needless to say, coffee hasn’t left his mind since.

Crash by Storyofanotakuslife( T |2,089 | 1/1 )

Bad days aren’t unusual for Katsuki, he’s learned to handle them the best he can. Which usually means alone. But bipolar doesn’t care about your feelings, and for once he’s actually willing to accept some outside help.

(Can be read as platonic or romantic bakudeku)

Izuku’s Home for Wayward Pets by glamour_weeb( E |50,436+ | 11/? )

Izuku works at the Bureau of Companion Protection as a rehabilitator for abused and abandoned Companions, animal-human hybrids. He’s seen his fair share of cruelty cases and even fostered a few Companions, but he’s never had a Companion of his own, until now. After rescuing Katsuki from a life in an illegal, underground Companion fighting ring, Izuku must take in the wolfdog that no one else can handle.

Eventually, Katsuki comes to love his new home, as well as his new Master.

[PTSD | Past Abuse]

be loved by bonnia( T |5,403 | 1/1 )

They sit there, in the darkness of the common room, about a few centimeters between them, but miles apart. Somehow, the quiet is companionable. More than it has been in many years. Katsuki knows he’s responsible for the rift between them, and he knows even more that it can’t only be Deku who attempts to mend it.

“Hey,” he says, after a while, and Deku turns to him in question, but Katsuki refuses to look his way. “Touch me again.”

(or: the kidnapping incident leaves bakugou traumatised about being touched on the back of his neck, and midoriya decides to take matters into his own hands)

[PTSD | Panic Attacks]

new eyes by WabiSabi( T |56,645+ | 16/? )

Katsuki wakes up 22 years in the past.

With no other choice, he moves on.

(Or where Katsuki tries to mind his own business and fails spectacularly because he can´t stand people pissing over those who gained his respect. Even Deku. Especially Deku.)

SeriesPart 1 of Decrescente

[PTSD]

The Absolute Truth by Glon_Morski ( E |67,078 | 5/5 )

“What words did you say, exactly? Share with us. Show us how much of a monster you really are, Ground Zero.”

I told him…

‘Shut up!’

…that I have a time saving idea for him…

‘Shut up!’

…that if he wants to have a quirk that badly…

‘Shut the fuck up!!!’

…he should take a swan dive off a roof and hope for a quirk in his next life

The pain blooms on his throat this time as the characters that write the answer carve themselves into his skin. It doesn’t feel like a scalpel cutting through his skin this time. Nor does it feel like his skin is breaking on its own after being stretched too thin. Instead, the experience is akin to having his throat literally shredded, as if a million of tiny, jagged claws or teeth are digging into his flesh and pulling at it to brand him with the words.

This time, Katsuki screams.

A.K.A In which Katsuki is captured by villains who want to expose him as a ‘false hero’ (as per Stain’s ideology) and use a truth serum-like quirk to do it.

Mind the tags.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Panic Attacks]

[On Hiatus] You Were October Nights by AlchemyandHeroAnalysis( E |27,728+ | 4/? )

Across the locker room, tucked into the small corner of the wall separating the changing room and the showers, sat the Bakugou Katsuki with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head tucked in his arms. If Izuku hadn’t heard him, he probably would never have seen him to begin with. But he could. He could see and hear everything.

Please, don’t be real.

His gut twisted painfully as Katsuki’s broken sobs echoed against the concrete walls. His entire body shook with each desperate wail that escaped him. It sounded as though he was in complete and utter agony, painfully vulnerable and without any remote sign of stopping.

Summary:Izuku stumbles upon an emotionally distraught Katsuki in the agency locker room and is horrified by what he sees. What could have possibly happened to make his childhood friend this … broken?

[Rape/Non-Con | PTSD | Abuse | Self Harm | Addiction]

I Could Never Know A World Without You. by Kasplode( M |45,800+ | 9/? )

“Stay back, Deku.”

Izuku doesn’t listen. That decision leads to his death.

In a twist of fate that entwines him irrevocably with Katsuki, it turns out their time together isn’t over yet.

(OR: the bodysharing wonder duo AU where Izuku is kidnapped along with Katsuki, and the combination of unprecedented quirks leads to unexpected results.)

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD | Panic Attacks | Dissociation | Abuse]

Letting Go is the Ruffest Thing by SurelyHeavenWaits( T |5,541 | 1/1 )

For Bakugou Katsuki, storms bring change and never the good kind. Those howling winds and driving droplets of rain spell the end of an era for him, every single time.

Until this storm.

This storm brings Deku.

[PTSD]

[On Hiatus] Lost and found by Sad_Pawn( T |12,329+ | 6/? )

Katsuki is finally back after being taken by the League of Villains. However, he seems to have lost an important piece of himself. Can he recover without it?

Midoriya is so relieved that Kacchan is back and safe. But when he visits him, he immediately notices something is terribly, terribly wrong. Can he help restore his childhood friend's hope?

[PTSD | Panic Attacks]

Fix Me by goateyes( E | 8,901+ | 3/? )

After an important mission goes south Bakugo finds himself in the hospital suffering from a severe injury. His agency forces him to go to physical therapy where he meets his therapist Midoriya, love (and chaos) ensues.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | PTSD]

ghostin' by chaoticheroes( G |1,583 | 1/1 )

“I’m proud of you.”

“You’ve said that already, dumbass.”

“Yeah, well, I am. Proud of you, that is.” Katsuki rolls his eyes and tries to turn his head away but Izuku presses his hand to his cheek, forcing their eyes to meet. Izuku can’t see clearly but if he could, he knows Katsuki would be matching him with the same intensity that he’s known for. “I have every right to be proud of you. I love you. You having issues that are a little bigger than the both of us changes absolutely none of that, Kacchan.”

[PTSD]

The Bonds that bind by EloFromMars( E | 2,818 | 1/1 )

Izuku is excited, tonight is their anniversary. He had planned everything. Or so he thought.

[PTSD | Panic Attacks]

[On Hiatus] Routine by strawberryflavoring( M |1,714+ | 1/? )

Bakugou isn't good at handling himself, and Deku's been too busy to see him getting worse. So, as you'd probably expect, Bakugou flips shit.

[Rape/Non-Con | PTSD | Self Harm]

[clarinette07]

Dining Room Discussion

Entry for @idreamofplaid ‘s Bunker Challenge & also For my SPNDeanBingo - Falling in Love Square

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Slight angst, unrequited love (or so they think), Fluffy Dean, Friends to Lovers, Angst with a happy ending

Also available on Wattpad and A03

Special thanks to @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog for being such a great friend and Beta! You are amazing!

"I'm going out! Do y'all need anything while I'm out?" Y/N hollered out from the garage doorway. Dean's ears perked up just a bit and immediately hollered back, "PIE!"

"Top of my list, Winchester," she says with a smirk. "See y'all in a bit!" With that, she left to town to get his pie, but most of all, some much-needed space away from the brothers. Especially a certain green-eyed hunter who seemed to taunt her day and night unknowingly. Dean Winchester was a man like no other - it was no wonder women seemed to fall all over him left and right, but the same could be said about little Sammy's good looks as well. No, it was the hunter's bravery, the brother's love, his fierce loyalty and strength in the face of danger that had captivated Y/N's heart. Therein lies her problem and reason for the need for space.

It was one thing to grow close as friends and hunting buddies, to bunker housemates, but when she felt her heart becoming more constricted whenever he found a leggy distraction for the evening or how it would flutter at the smallest gesture or compliment he would throw her way while undercover for a case, she knew things were changing from friendly to wanting something more. It wasn't that she thought he was a horrible person, on the contrary, she truly thought he was an amazing man. The problem was she knew Dean would never reciprocate the feelings that were brewing within her. So that is where these little "out of the blue" excursions came from. She needed to distance herself from him for just a little while when she could since doing so while on a case was impossible.

She really didn't have anywhere to go or really anything to buy, so often times she would just go to the local bakery, pick up Dean's pie and a hot cider than just sit and journal at the local park. It gave her some time to think and center herself, even though she must admit, most of the time was filtering through all the negative thoughts she had of herself. For the most part, Y/N thought highly of her abilities and skills when it came to hunting, and as far as looks go, she thought she was pretty enough, but nowhere near the level of beauty she saw in the female companions the boys would often gravitate toward.

Usually, it would be about a 45 minute to an hour that she would take to herself then she could go back to face the boys in close proximity again. Today was no different, however, it was the fourth Friday in a row that Y/N had taken off before Dean could even think of inviting her out with them for drinks at the bar. Really, she should have known he would realize sooner rather than later that something was up. He always was so much more than a pretty face or the brawn of the operation.

Dean's POV

As I heard the bunker door close, I couldn't help but wonder why Y/N seemed to be avoiding us. This was at least a month now of her running off for this or that, but I couldn't really complain because she always brought me my pie (unlike my so-called brother who always seems to forget it).

"Hey, Sammy! Do you know where Y/N keeps going? I know we don't need any supplies, so what could she be getting?" I couldn't help but wonder what was going on because over the last month and a half I've noticed Y/N start to slowly distance herself from us - Me in particular - and I can't help but wonder what it is I did to make her feel so uncomfortable around me that she always feels the need to run off?

"I'm not sure, Dean, but I wouldn't worry about it. I'm sure Y/N would tell us if something was going on. Sometimes she just needs her space."

"Yeah, yeah, maybe you're right... I'll see you later. I'm going to my room until she gets back with my pie."

I went to my room, but my thoughts would not stop going over any and almost every scenario I could think about of what she could be doing and why. The one thing that still did not sit well was how we seem to have grown apart and though I would never tell Sammy this, I miss the closeness Y/N and I used to have. Now she seems to go to Sammy for help more than me. She barely even looks me in the eye anymore... Maybe I did something?

While I'm rambling on in my head about this or that reason, I hear the bunker door close and I know she's home! I can run and ask her if everything is alright and I hope she doesn't just say everything's fine because I know something's up! As I get closer to the kitchen, I hear Sammy in hushed tones saying "Y/N, you can't avoid him forever, you gotta tell him how you feel..." I couldn't listen anymore. I hurried back the way I came, back to my room before anyone knew I was there. I couldn't believe it was ME she was avoiding after all! I don't know what I did, but I know I will make this right! Starting by making her most favorite fancy meal then I'll get her to talk to me. I have to know what I did - I want my Y/N back.

Next day

Y/N's POV

I knew Samuel Winchester was too smart for his own good. He saw right through my scheme to avoid more heartache, but honestly, I did not feel like I had an alternative option. I couldn't risk Dean taking the knowledge that I was growing deeper feelings for him and things will never be the same. I just put those feelings aside for now. I would try and face him tomorrow, but for now, I wanted to sleep.

The next morning, I woke to only Sam in the kitchen with a note next to him that Dean left saying he was making dinner for us tonight and to make sure to be ready by 7 pm to eat. Dinner isn't usually at a specific time, so this was a little odd, but who knows! Maybe it's to make sure he is able to still hit the bars afterwards? At least I could fake being too tired or too full to go with him. His food IS always delicious, so that would not be too much of a stretch.

It didn't matter, I decided to stay in my room and catch up on laundry and cleaning until dinner time came. About 6:30 pm, I decided to head to the kitchen to see if Dean wanted help with anything and saw that the dining room was set for two with candles and everything! Oh no! Did he plan a last minute date with some bimbo??? Did he seriously forget about promising to make us all dinner? I thought to myself. My thoughts were cut short by the sound of Dean cursing in the kitchen and a tray falling with a crash to the floor with a loud clatter. I ran as fast as I could to see what happened only to see Dean standing at the sink running cold water on his hand and a tray of my favorite food in disarray half on the tray and half scattered on the floor. In my confused state, all I can say is, "What the hell???"

Dean's POV

 "What the Hell???" I hear Y/N from behind me. In my flustered panic, I accidentally grabbed the tray with Y/N's favorite food and forgot I just took it out of a 400-degree oven! Smart Dean! Real smooth! NOW her dinner is ruined and I screwed up the surprise!

"Y/N! You weren't supposed to be here for another 30 minutes!" Please let me be able to salvage this night, please Chuck, Please.

Y/N's POV 

"What???" Yeah, real eloquent there, Y/N! Good job! "Wait? That fancy dinner spread is for me???" Am I dreaming? Did I get caught by a Djinn???

"Yeah! Didn't you get my note?" Dean asked, eyebrows furrowed with a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"I got the note, but when I saw the table set for two, I thought you forgot."

Dean looks wide eyes and a little surprised at the statement. "I would never forget a night with you. Look! I even tried to make your favorite food! At least half of it is eatable" he says with a shoulder shrug and a cheeky grin.

Y/N could barely contain the emotions bubbling up inside her. Her eyes started to fill with tears, but she knew she had to keep her emotions in check. Dean was just being nice - ridiculously sweet and cute and just nice. Nothing more.

"Please don't cry, Sweetheart," Dean said as he came closer and engulfed Y/N in his warm embrace. Not helping, Y/N thought to herself, but she couldn't bring herself to pull away either. "What is all this for, Dean?" She finally asked. Did I miss a special occasion or something? She thought to herself.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean looked away shyly and said, "I know you're upset with me, but I couldn't bear another night of you away and running off for hours at a time. I know it sounds strange and you only see me as a friend, but I had to try and make it right whatever it was because There ain't no me if there ain't no you. So, can we sit and try and talk out whatever has come between us? Please?"

I was stunned! THE Dean Winchester is pleading with ME?!? I really must have hit my head hard! Before I knew what was happening, Dean grabbed my hand and gently led me to the beautifully decorated dining room. Like I mentioned before, in passing I saw the two place settings, but what I missed was that the table cloth was my favorite color, the plates were the GOOD China, not just cheap take out containers or bags of wrapped burgers. He even got my favorite fruity drink that I always tried to hide I liked! Now I KNOW this has to be a Djinn! I reach for the dinner knife and stick my hand out to keep Dean back, but he is too quick and too strong and with a gasping leap he gets the knife away from me.

"What the Hell, Y/N??? What are you doing?" He asked with fear and disbelief in his eyes.

"There is no way my Real Dean would do this for me. You're a Djinn Dean! There is no way this is real!" Y/N is so close to a breakdown, she can barely keep it together. Her eyes are filling with tears but her voice is trying to sound strong and confident. With those words though, Dean breaks and allows his head to fall and shakes it in sad disbelief. The woman he loves doesn't believe he loves her enough to do this for her. How much did he mess up their friendship? He thought they were closer than this, but maybe there is hope after all if this is what she thinks is a dream version of a happy life for her?

"Y/N, Sweetheart, this isn't a Djinn world and you are not dreaming after being knocked out. This is REAL! Sit with me and eat some of those nasty (favorite food) and you'll see!'

With some trepidation, Y/N gave it a shot and sat at the dinner table in the rarely used dining room set for two in the Bunker and listened to Dean walk her through the escapade that was dinner. She had to admit, with so many blunders, there was no way this could be a Djinn world and never in a million years could she imagine a night like this with Dean. which brings her back to his explanation as to why he did this in the first place. All at once, his words come rushing to her mind.

"Dean, Why did you think I was upset with you?" She softly asks as she reaches out to grasp his hand to get his attention. Stunned, Dean is taken off guard by her question. With a quick clearing of his throat, he begins to answer her question.

"Well, you have stopped going with me to bars after out hunts and you just seem to never want to be around me anymore. Then I heard you talking with Sam and when he said "you can't avoid him forever", I knew then that I did something, but I have no clue what. That's why I wanted to make you a peace offering to hope to make up for whatever I did."

Panic! That was all that was happening in Y/N's mind at the words "I heard you talking with Sam." But, he must not have heard it all if he thinks that I am avoiding him just because I'm upset? Y/N thinks to herself. "Was that all you heard? You didn't hear anything else?" She asks just above a whisper out of fear of the answer. Please, Please, PLEASE let that be all that he heard.....

With a puzzled look and a nod of confirmation, Y/N released the breath she didn't realize she was holding. "Good, that's good, um, well, I guess it's only fair since you opened up to me, I should be open and honest with you, too." With one last big sigh of breath, Y/N closed her eyes and said a silent prayer that this would not blow up in her face. "Dean, promise me, no matter what, you won't kick me out?" She looks at him expectantly, waiting for his response and with his quick response of "Of course!" while reaching out to hold her hand in his, he gives a slight squeeze as an encouragement to continue.

"#1, I could never be upset at you, at least not for long," she says with a small chuckle, "That couldn't be farther from the truth. Hurt maybe, but not upset or mad."She said with a faraway look in her eyes.

Hurt? Why would she be hurt? Dean thought as she continued her confession around the dining room table.

Letting out a deep breath, she continued "And really, you haven't done anything wrong! You're a man, you have needs, we ALL do! So, who am I to get jealous of a one night stand? You're much too important to me for me to let those emotions get the better of me and our friendship. This night has been so wonderful, even with the Djinn scare," she says with a light-hearted chuckle, "but it just reminds me of something I can never have as a hunter. It's why I go off on my own in the first place. So I don't get lost in the 'What If's' of the possible Apple Pie life I couldn't have a taste of."

Dean's POV While Y/N was rambling on and on, something she tends to do when she's nervous, I couldn't help how my hope rose as she continued. Maybe I DO have a chance to get my girl!

"You can't hunt with someone who has their head in the clouds. You need someone focused and on their A game. I can't do that if I'm constantly dealing with the battle going on in my mind, too."

Knowing now that she's not mad, just hurt and jealous of me going out to try and get her off my mind too, I took a leap of faith and hoped it wouldn't blow up in my face. I lunged forward from my chair, grasped both of her hands in mine and her breath caught in her throat as our eyes locked for the first time since she started rambling. Taking a steadying breath, I spoke the words I had been afraid to share with her or anyone about my feelings for her.

"Sweetheart, you gotta take a breath for me and listen when I tell you, I'm so sorry I ever made you jealous and hurt you by going off with other girls. You are the LAST person on Earth I would want to hurt. I wasn't blowing smoke when I said 'there ain't no me if there ain't no you'. I don't know what I would do without you in my life, Kid. I - I care so much about you it kills me when you're not around. Y/N, you know I'm not the best with words and feelings, but I think I've crossed a line somewhere in our friendship and I fell in love with my best friend. I hope this doesn't make you pull farther away from me, I don't think I could take that."

Y/N's POV

Sparks erupted from the moment Dean's hands touched mine. I was lost in those beautiful green eyes and then he told me to breathe and it was like the world stopped. As I listened to all he had to say with bated breath, I felt my heart skip a beat when I heard the words I've longed to hear from him. He loves me!!! The Great Dean Winchester LOVES little ole me! I couldn't believe it, my wildest hopes and dreams actually came true! But wait? Why is he just staring at me? CRAP!!! I zoned out! ANSWER HIM, DUMMY!!!!

"Dean, I couldn't bear that either. I couldn't imagine life without you close because I love you, too." Said just above a whisper, too choked up to speak louder. Y/N's eyes welled with happy tears as Dean's face broke out into a genuine smile she hadn't seen for a long time. And from that moment on, they vowed to never again be without one another. <3

[landcfstxries]

Good As New (Pt. 1)

{ hi henlo

Uhhh i wrote this up at maybe 4-5 AM and im just now posting it djdhhdbd

Y'all know im into Critical Role but I'm not gonna put this in the main tags jdndbhdhd too scared

Tags: @maybesortaahazel @shadlicious @vampire-fucker-3000

Varan Luro is a dnd oc of mine. He's,,,, an odd one, let's just say that.

Mollymauk Tealeaf is a character off of Critical Role, and belongs to his creator Taliesin Jaffe. This is purely just fun writing, and I'm not trying to claim the character in any way. Even though this blog has a small following, I felt I should preface this for future followers. "^^

Enjoy, y'all!

Usual warning: some possible misspellings bc I did write this pretty late at night }

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

He remembers passing out.

Was it passing out? He wasn't sure.

He had felt the pain in his chest for only a moment, yet he still hasn't grasped what happened.

It was just...

Empty.

Empty.

Empty...

....

Crimson eyes opened once more.

Everything was a blur for many moments, he didn't dare to try and sit up. He would let it pass for a moment before he felt comfortable.

Said moment felt like ages, but it came eventually.

The tiefling slowly sat up, feeling the cloth over his body shift down slightly. He caught it before it could easily fall off and reveal his full form....

Wait.

He wasn't wearing any clothes.

No wonder it was so cold in the room.

He looks around, hearing the familiar soft jingle of the jewelry that decorated his horns. Well, He thought, at least no one took those.

But the more important questions at hand: Where did everyone go...?

Where was he?!

"Ah! You are awake! Finally!"

The tiefling's head snapped into the direction of where the sudden voice came. The accent sounded familiar. Like a wizard friend he knew... But this definitely wasn't him.

Standing in the doorway was a Drow Elf, with dark purple skin; a very stark contrast from the tiefling's own lilac skin. He had white hair that reached a bit past his shoulders, red irises that seemed to stand out against the black scleras of his eyes. He wore some sort of fancy garmets, as if he was of high regard.

It took a very long time before the tiefling spoke up. "Uh... Hi," He started. He took a moment to look around before looking back to the Drow. "Where... Am I? Who are you? How am I here?"

Too many questions. Time to take it down a bit.

He rubs the back of his neck a bit. "Ah, sorry for the amount of questions. I guess I'm just... A bit confused, to say the least."

The Drow chuckles. He isn't sure if it's all in good fun or if it's quite the opposite. "It's quite all right. I'll answer as best as I can... Allow me to introduce myself first. My name is Varan Luro. And who might you be, colorful one?" The Drow says, holding out his hand for the tiefling to shake.

Molly. That's it. You actually remember this time.

"... Mollymauk Tealeaf. Molly to my friends... Since I, uh... I guess we're friends now, aren't we?" The tiefling speaks up, gently taking Varan's hand and giving a small shake.

"Huh... Mollymauk... Molly... Peculiar, but unique name. Almost familiar, and rolls off the tongue." Varan says, with that weird chuckle again. "Beautiful tattoos, by the way. Thought I would mention that."

Oh, right. He wasn't wearing anything besides a sheet over him. Molly smiled sheepishly. "Uh... I think this conversation might continue better if I had my clothes back. You got those anywhere?"

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

It was surprisingly quick, and Molly was back to his old look in no time...

Save for the giant scar across his chest.

He shuddered a bit. Is that what happened to him...?

Damn Lorenzo-!

"Mr. Tealeaf? You alright?"

Molly quickly snapped out of his conflicting thoughts, turning to look at Varan. "Oh. Sorry. Just... Trying to figure out things. This definitely isn't the first time I've experienced this sort of thing, but I'm surprised I'm still... Myself."

"You... Have been through resurrection before?"

"Something like it. Wasn't my body before. Thought it was gonna end with two years of having it... Guess not." Molly explains. He then gives a chuckle. "I don't know whether to thank you or be actually creeped out."

"Both would be natural reactions."

A laugh was shared between the two. Varan then spoke up. "Come, Molly. We should... Discuss this whole thing and I should catch you up to speed. Sure you've been dying to know."

"You could say that."

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

"... Huh."

"... Is that all you can say?"

"Well, Varan, forgive me if I'm taking a moment just to think about it."

Molly sighs, then chuckles. "Never thought I'd end up meeting a warlock that could bring me and practically almost anyone back from the dead... With a little work, of course. Necromancy, man. Wild... I've only ever been near one warlock in my life, and his powers were vastly different from yours. Something with the ocean or whatever, long story I probably wont get to know." He rambles, laughing softly... Followed by a sigh.

Varan knows that sigh. "... You... Miss your companions?" He says, genuine worry in his voice.

"Is it that obvious, my friend?"

"... Heartbreakingly."

Molly chuckles again, and proceeds to sigh once more. "Yeah... They're miles away now, I know that. There's no way I'll be able to catch up with them. I just hope they're doing alright without me... And no one's blaming themselves..." He goes on, putting a hand over his face and leaning against it. "Oh, gods... Yasha... I can't imagine how she took it..."

Varan could only offer a small, hopefully reassuring pat on the back. "I'm... I'm sure they miss you dearly, Molly. You seem like you were the light of that group. Sure, some... Mistakes here and there, but you likely brought joy to their lives. I'm sure you'll cross paths with them eventually... Everyone finds their way."

Molly looks up at Varan, smiling sadly. "I... I guess you're right, my friend... I just hope that meeting isn't too long from now. Maybe it's just right around the corner... We can only hope."

"I suppose...."

Molly suddenly remembered something. "Say," He started, "You... Didn't perhaps see a long, red and beautifully gaudy coat where I was buried right? Bunch of symbols on it?"

"Hm... I'm sorry, no. However, there was something there that I figured had it resting. A staff or something... A log? I don't know. All I can figure is that it was holding up something. Perhaps your coat?"

"No. No one would just... Steal the damn thing. I mean... Who would even dare to off of a grave? It was either one of my group, or an old friend."

He hoped this was the case. He really hoped.

Molly then switches gears. "Hey... Varan. You'll let me stay here until I get my bearings... Right?"

"Of course! What reason would I have to deny hospitality now?"

"... Fair point."

Varan had secretly formed a plan in mind as Molly rambled on. Really, he had one in the works ever since he heard the tiefling's name fall from his lips. That's why it was so familiar to him. He knew why now.

Because of her.

[simplyshelbs16xoxo]

‘Simple Romance’ Chapter 4: Confessions and Snogging

I think the title says it all lol 

@glitterkitty4ever

Well, here I am again, writing my thoughts online. If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll notice I deleted all prior entries. I’m starting over. Today’s topic is romance. Does anyone feel that romance and chivalry has completely died out? I feel that way. Those days appear to be behind us, but oh how I do long for the age of handwritten love letters and courting.

               People tend to stop everything once they feel they’ve got you in their grasp, but even now, it seems they never really knew you all that well to begin with. It makes me wonder how I ended up where I’m at today. I’m not delusional; I know that butterflies and the euphoria  eventually wears off, but it is quite questionable to me that I feel those things with someone else—I have for the past four years.

               Molly stared at the words she had written on her new blog last night. It was over. She hadn’t been able to go back to sleep until she woke him up to tell him so. Tom had seemed different lately, turning into a man she hardly knew. For the longest time, she felt he could be a good match for her, but he had become impatient and moody as of late. He stopped trying for the most part, and she had felt as if it were all up to her to keep their relationship on smooth ground. In all honesty, Molly was exhausted from all the effort. This wasn’t the way it was supposed to be.

               And that phone call from Sherlock the night before—though amusing—was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Her eyes flicked over to the ring that now sat on her desk. Without love, it didn’t mean anything. She had always been in love with Sherlock Holmes, and there was no stopping it. She smiled, knowing he loved her too, but would he admit it sober?

               Interrupting her thoughts, her phone pinged, alerting her to a message from Greg.

               You busy? –Greg

               Not in the least. What’s going on? –Molly

               Our consulting detective needs a ride home. Mary’s picking up John in a few. – Greg

               I’ll be there. -Molly

               “My head,” Sherlock groaned, holding it in his hands as if it would help. “Aren’t you taking me back home, Graham?”

               “It’s Greg,” Lestrade corrected him in annoyance. “And no, the missus will be doing that.”

               Sherlock’s head perked up, his brows furrowed in confusion. “The missus?”

               “That’d be me, I suppose.” Molly sighed.

               Sherlock glanced at her through bleary eyes for a moment, soon covering his eyes with his arm to shield him from the pain of the sunlight streaming through. “C���mon.” Molly helped him outside and into the passenger seat of her car. He kept his eyes shut the whole way there.

“So much for not getting ill,” she teased as they made their way inside his flat. “Exactly how much did you have to drink last night?”

               Sherlock seated himself in his chair, rubbing his temples, praying to a God he didn’t believe in to take away the pain. “Please, Molly, I really don’t need a lecture right now.”

“No cases for you today,” she told him, getting a start on the coffee. Sherlock’s vision was finally becoming clear again, and he took in her appearance; black boots up to the knee, blue skinny jeans, black and white striped knit jumper, and her hair loose over her shoulders. It wasn’t fair.

               “What’s not fair?” she asked. Oops, he must have said it out loud. It’s now or never, he thought.

               Sherlock approached her as he spoke. “It’s not fair that the only person who understands me is promised to someone else; and it’s most certainly unfair that you’re so bloody gorgeous, and I’m not even allowed to kiss you right now.”

               Now standing face to face, her back against the counter, she challenged him, her voice coming out huskier than usual. “Then do something about it.”

Two hearts pounded furiously together as Sherlock took her in his arms, pressing his lips to hers in frenzied passion. A soft, desperate moan escaped her mouth. Molly slid her hands up from his back into his curls, gripping them just enough to pull him closer. Humming happily against his mouth, Molly relished in the velvet slide of his tongue against hers. All the hard planes of his body felt soft and warm pressed against hers, and oh God, she wanted more.

“More,” she moaned in between kisses. His lips left hers, trailing kisses along her jaw, landing on that sweet, sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Molly,” he whispered hoarsely, sending shivers down her spine. His hand found hers surprisingly ring-less, sliding his thumb over her ring finger a second time to make sure it was real. She felt him smile against her skin. “I love you.” Tears filled her eyes as he tenderly kissed her lips once more. Now, softer than before, he took his time, mapping out what she loved in his mind. He picked her up in his arms, his nose nuzzling hers in the sweetest way, and brought her to the sofa, lying her down upon it, eager to continue.

“Sherlock,” she spoke softly, cupping his face in her hands. “I love you too.” She brought his head down to hers, her toes curling from the sound of his soft moans and the weight of his body on hers. She giggled when he kissed the tip of her nose, and squirmed impatiently when he kissed the corners of her mouth. “Mmm,” she sighed happily as he continued peppering kisses across her skin. “Sherlock?”

“Hmm?” he hummed below her ear.

“Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt before?” she wondered. The long-awaited affection he was giving her made her feel as if she was melting in the most welcome way. It felt like home being with him. He was her home.

He propped himself up to gaze into her warm brown eyes. “Because you’re the one person I could never handle being rejected by. I was afraid you had come to your senses; you’re mad to want to be with a man like me.”

“Perhaps I thrive in the madness of it all,” she remarked playfully. “If loving you is mad, I don’t wanna be sane.” Pulling him toward her once more, she kissed him slowly, pressing her lips, ever so gently, to his. Minutes passed, losing themselves in such beautiful bliss, until their friends’ voices broke the spell.

“Well, it’s about time.”

“Bloody hell, get a room you two.”

Author’s Note: woo! they're together!! but don't worry, there's still an epilogue coming! Did you like how I brought back Molly's blog? I bet the makeout sesh was y'all's fave part ;p

FFN | Ao3

[doodlelolly0910]

Close Encounters of the Spiritual Kind

Summary: Emma Nolan spent a lot of time alone, and that was fine by her. Because one is never truly alone. She should know. She can talk to dead people. What she didn’t expect was one of these spiritual encounters to hang around, taking her down a rabbit hole of missing women, revenge, and, least expected, love. Can she save the day and Killian Jones? Is there even another choice?

Read it from the beginning on AO3 and FFN!

A/N:  *pokes head in* Hi guys! So some of you may have noticed there wasn't an update from me last week. If you follow me on here, you already knew there wouldn't be one, but I thought I would acknowledge that here as well. I struggled a lot with this chapter, and had a lot of personal issues with writing in general over the last week. I definitely apologize and appreciate all of your patience while I worked through my mental kinks. If you ever have any questions, or you just want to know what's going on with me or my writing, just send em a message or an ask. My inboxes are always open. You can follow me here as well, I’m usually moaning about my writing woes on my blog anyhow lol. More than ever this week, thank you thank you thank you to my wonderful beta and friend @kmomof4 for being so awesome and supportive, and also I will forever be in melting fangirl joy over the beautiful art that @courtorderedcake made for this story. Give her some love, and read all her stuff. She's amazing. And last, but not least, thank YOU, my lovely readers. The fact that y'all take time out of your day to read anything of mine just fills me with joy. So thank you. So much. Without further ado, here's chapter 16!

Chapter 16

Why she was still so affected by a stupid kiss, Emma would never know.

But here she was, studiously avoiding looking over to where Hook was standing with a small, rotund man called Smee of all things (oh, the irony) in order to obtain something that was not very easy to obtain. Which was apparently what William Smee excelled at, obtaining hard to get objects. She hazarded a glance at the two men, simply to find out what was taking so damn long, and immediately regretted it.

Smee was scrutinizing her, his distrust clear as day, but that wasn't what threw her. It was the set of bright blue eyes that were locked on her rapidly reheating face and the peek of tongue that slipped past Hook's lips as he swiped it over them. He thumbed the scruff on the edge of his jaw, responding to something Smee said half heartedly, his gaze staying resolutely on her face.

She couldn't look away fast enough.

Good man, Milah whispered without warning. Emma jumped, her face reddening further, utterly embarrassed to be caught in some sort of moment with Hook by his dead ex-lover. Slowly, the scent of jasmine filtered into her senses.

“Hello to you, too,” Emma grumbled, then froze, her eyes widening and her brows climbing her forehead.

Did she know about the kiss?!

Yes, Milah murmured and Emma felt her stomach turn as the spirit answered her unasked question. Good man. Worthy.

Emma's heart stuttered through a change in gears in her chest before ramping up in speed. She swallowed thickly, trying to think of a response but coming up entirely empty. She looked to where the two men talked out of the corner of her eye and saw them turn and walk into the building.

“Can you just… not… do that. We get along now. That's enough,” Emma said through gritted teeth. A silence descended in the car around Emma.

Good man.

The final whispered words faded away along with the scent of Milah’s perfume and Emma was alone again. She sighed heavily, Milah's words weighing on her already heavy mind.

Emma startled as the door opened to the passenger side of the bug, but she recovered quickly as Hook settled himself in beside her. He didn't appear to have anything new with him and Emma's brow knitted together in confusion. He glanced at her face and then quickly away and she just knew that he had done something she didn't approve of.

“All set, Swan, let's go,” he said, patting the dashboard with his good hand and shifting in his seat. She didn't move to start the car, only staring at him intently, trying to figure out just what it was that he was hiding.

He exhaled sharply through his nose and turned his head only slightly to get a better look at her stone faced expression.

“You know, vehicles usually function better once they're running.” He gestured to the ignition with his hooked arm, still not making eye contact.

“What did you do?” she asked bluntly and Killian looked genuinely surprised before steeling his features once more.

“Well you saw most of it. We had a chat, went inside, and now it's time to leave.”

“And what happened while you were inside, Killian?” He winced at her use of his given name.

“Business,” he replied, his tone clipped. He turned back to look out the windshield.

“What kind of business?”

“The kind you needn’t concern yourself with, love,” he said softly, but his tone brokered no arguments. Emma studied him for a moment longer. The way his dark hair fell over his forehead, his bright blue eyes avoiding hers. His jaw ticked, not in anger, but frustration. Her senses still fired off red flags that he had done something he shouldn’t have, but Emma recognized his behavior for what it was. He was trying to protect her.

So she let it go.

For now.

Wordlessly, she reached up and turned the keys dangling from the ignition, the engine to the little yellow bug rumbling to life behind them, and she drove them back to the compound. As soon as they had gotten back, Emma hadn’t even needed to worry about putting space between them. Twilight had already descended around them and Hook wasted no time in disappearing into the shadows between buildings.

“Get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow,” he said before he vanished. He was obviously avoiding her, but that was fine by Emma. If he hadn’t put the space between them, she would have, certainly.

Emma made her way back into the living quarters, staying clear of the office area in case that was where Hook had escaped to, making her way into the bedroom Hook had led her to before. She was tired. So very tired. These kinds of things tended to happen, though, when you hadn’t slept in a week and sustained more than one head injury. The cut on her head throbbed with her heartbeat a few times at the thought, but Emma ignored it. She was getting good at ignoring the small things. She had to stay singularly focused. There was no room for anything else.

She spied the blanket, sheet, and pillow that Hook had left out at the foot of the bed, for her, she presumed, and picked it up, setting it on the ground. She wasn’t a hundred percent sure whose bed this was, exactly, but she was almost positive it was Hook’s and she wasn’t looking to put him out. She just wanted to relax a moment. Setting the pillow against the wall where the headboard would have gone, had there been one, she toed off her boots and spread the sheet down over the top of the already crisply made up mattress. She walked across the room to where a small card table sat, empty of all things except her messenger bag.

She wasn’t sure what had possessed her to bring in her sketchbook from the car, but she had, and now she knew it would bring her the comfort she sought in this moment. She grabbed only one pencil from her bag and flipped open the book to a blank page before settling onto the bed. The moment the pencil touched the paper, she was lost in the motion of the drawing, unsure of what she was even sketching until a flower began to take form over the page. Long, thin, pointed petals began to fill the space in the shape of a star. She shaded a bit and began another. And another when that one was finished.

Suddenly, she was in a field of flowers like the ones she had been drawing. Instead of leaning against the wall, her back was against the rough bark of a large tree, her sketchbook having disappeared entirely. The hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention, goosebumps exploding over her skin despite the warmth of her surroundings, and she knew she wasn’t alone. Emma eased to her feet, finding she wasn’t nearly as sore as before, and turned around, laying eyes on the tall man standing off to her left.

Liam’s mouth was set in a firm line as he watched her get to her feet and approach him and Emma grew wary of the obvious disapproval in his stare.

“Hello, Liam,” she greeted him warmly all the same.

“Emma,” he returned coolly. “Would you care to explain why you were snogging my little brother in the street today?”

Emma blinked rapidly at his blunt words before the anger and embarrassment swirled in her abdomen again.

“You know, between you and Milah, I’m beginning to think I don’t have a moment’s privacy. Do you watch me shower as well? Keep track of my toilet habits?” she snapped, folding her arms across her chest. Liam blushed but his expression remained stern.

“I don’t keep track of your anything, unless it has to do with Killian. What were you thinking?” he asked tersely. Emma’s patience was already wearing thin. As she brushed her long blonde hair over her shoulder, her hands found their place on her jean clad hips.

“I was thinking that your brother is an insufferable ass who needed a dose of his own medicine. It was just a kiss to shut him up. And he kissed me first, by the way.” A thin honey colored brow arched high on her forehead.

Liam made a low humming sound, as if he didn’t entirely believe her. She wasn’t sure she entirely believed herself.

“There is a fine line that you’re flirting with, Emma.” He folded his arms over his broad chest.

“Pun intended?” she snarked.

“I mean it. You’re not here to fraternize with Killian. He is in real trouble, and if you’re only going to complicate things rather than help him, maybe it’s best if you bow out.”

“Not a chance in hell,” she growled, kicking the flowers at her feet. They exploded into a flurry of white petals, looking much like snow swirling between them.

They glared at each other for a long minute before Liam let out a sigh.

“Listen, lass, I know you’re under a lot of pressure. You’re tired, maybe not thinking straight, but I’m telling you now, getting involved with Killian is a mistake. For him and for you. Don’t forget, at the end of all of this, you’ll be going your separate ways. Think of your own heart, if nothing else,” he murmured, taking a step closer to her, and Emma scoffed.

“My heart is just fine. Your brother has become a friend, at best. You know, you and Milah, you guys came to me for help. Not the other way around,” she reminded him. Liam nodded.

“As you’re well aware, I’m sure, options to reach out from beyond are… limited. At best.” Liam’s brow pinched, deep furrows of concern working their way into his forehead. “I need to know that your priorities are straight.”

“That is one thing you never need to worry about. And, sorry to disappoint, but Killian is not my top priority right now. Finishing this case is. Finding these missing girls is. Taking down that bastard Gold is my number one priority. And nothing, not even your brother, and especially not some stupid, fucking kiss, is going to push me off my path,” Emma said, now shaking with the weight of the words pouring from her. Liam’s face was unchanged.

“You say that, Emma, but I see my brother. I watch him every day. And his heart is definitely on the line here. I’d bet my eternal soul that yours is, too,” he said, more gently this time. That statement struck Emma hard, her breath evaporating from her lungs.

His eternal soul.

The only thing he had left. The only thing that truly mattered in anyone’s life. His slate blue eyes stared into her jade green, the intensity of his words washing over the moment. There was no other way to answer him but honestly.

“I won’t let any feelings from Killian or myself get in the way of what I need to do,” she replied quietly and Liam’s shoulders sagged in relief. “And Killian will come around. We will fix this.”

“I truly hope so, lass,” Liam said, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder. “Get some rest. You’ll need it for tomorrow.” Emma smirked at his echoing of his younger brother’s words from earlier. The Jones men were so alike sometimes, and then others, they couldn’t be more different. Emma looked down to pick a white flower from the field, and when she looked up, Liam was gone.

Emma decided that she was going to take advantage of the beautiful dreamscape she found herself in, turning to head back to the tree, but as soon as she made the rotation, the scene was gone as well. She was at her apartment building, at the end of the hallway by the elevator on her floor, but there was a red string in front of her door. Her eyes followed the string down, down, down until she saw the other end laying at her feet.

She bent down, the flower in her grasp fluttering to the ground beside her, replacing it with the red string between her fingers. She began following the string, one hand on it at all times, passing it to the other and back again as she walked towards her apartment. The door was open and she followed the string inside.

She wasn’t prepared for what she saw.

Women, naked women, battered and bruised, and lifeless, their eyes staring blankly into the void of her living room, piled atop one another in a heap, all of them bearing faces that she'd only seen in case files. Emma stood frozen in the doorway, her mouth hanging open in utter horror and the string gripped tightly in her fists. Limbs stuck out in every direction, cuts and bruises marring the flesh. Suddenly, from the middle of the pile, one of the hands began to move, just a slight twitch of the fingers. Emma ran towards the indication of life, desperately moving arms and legs and hair to reach whoever she could still save.

A woman with short, dark hair in front of her face was at the other end of the movement. Emma swept her hair away to look at her pale, blemished features. She recognized her immediately. Ivy Belfrey. The most recent woman to go missing. Her big brown eyes were dimming, her life force fading like all the rest, and Emma grasped her hand tightly.

“Stay with me, Ivy, I'm gonna get you help,” Emma told her and a single fat tear rolled down Ivy's cheek.

“Why didn't you save us?” Ivy asked on a cracked whisper. Emma's throat closed up at her words and her green eyes blew wide. Ivy's expression twisted into something dark and angry and she reared up from her place within the corpses. “WHY DIDN'T YOU SAVE US?” she screamed. Before Emma could answer, Ivy had reached down and yanked the string from Emma's hand.

The entire room blew apart in a fiery explosion and Emma screamed…

���EMMA!”

Emma's eyes snapped open and she sat up in the bed she was in, looking around frantically. She was still at the compound. Her eyes cleared from the haze of her dream and found Killian, staring at her in the dark of the room, concern etched into his features. Tentatively, he reached up with his hand and brushed a wild snarl of blonde curls out of her face, his knuckles skimming her cheek soothingly as he withdrew, but Emma instinctively leaned into his calming touch. At her motion, Killian moved closer to her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her into his side.

Then Emma did something she hadn’t done in years in front of another living soul. She cried. She turned her face into his chest and her tears were immediately soaked up by the cotton of his t-shirt. She wasn’t sure when he slipped further up onto the bed, or when she’d ended up curled up half in his lap, him murmuring soft, calming things in her ear as sobs racked her body, but she did know one thing: she felt the safest she had since this whole ordeal started right there in Killian Jones’ arms.

[heavtheange]

Spider!Jere is in the middle of a battle with a foe in the city when all of a sudden, he crashes next to his number one fan (and best friend outside his superhero identity), Michael Mell, who does not know of his secret. The villain sees this as an opportunity to take the civilian hostage and does so, and Spider!Jer does not take kindly to this...

So, by the way @furornocturna is submitting the prompts, I’m assuming that most of these stories are gonna be Protective!Jeremy for now. Doesn’t mean it’ll be forever, just means that it will be more common than others. Just giving y'all a heads up.

The Birth Of A DamselSpidey!Jere AU

It’s not easy being Spider-Man; Jeremy has come to terms with this a long time ago. However, that doesn’t mean Jeremy likes being tossed around like a yo-yo by his arch nemesis, The SQUIP, who had electricity and levitation powers. That was still not fun.

Jeremy (or as he is currently known as, Spider-Man) tried shooting his web plenty of times but kept on getting slammed into buildings and sidewalks. The SQUIP was set on making Spider-Man’s life a living hell. Why, Jeremy still wasn’t sure, however he concluded that he had a severe case of being a massive dickhead.

That seems about right.

Eventually, the SQUIP began to pull Jeremy back towards him, his body barely moving. Jeremy thought that SQUIP was going to monologue to him, like super villains usually did around this time when they think they have won. Seconds later, the superhero couldn’t have been any more wrong.

“Batter up!” The SQUIP threw Spider-Man with all of his might, making him practically fly for a long moment until his world literally came crashing down when he smashed through a window and slammed into a concrete wall. The hero slid down to the floor and was completely limp. Luckily his powers allowed him to heal really fast, but that still doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt like all hell. Suddenly, Jeremy heard a voice.

“S…Spidey…?”

Jeremy could recognize that voice anywhere. It was the voice of his best friend, his Player One, Michael Mell. Michael had been his best friend for as long as he can remember. The duo did things like playing video games and smoking weed at the same time, as well as other weird activities that only the two of them would enjoy. They swore an oath that they would conquer the world one day, and Jeremy still kept that promise to heart.

Then Jeremy got bit, and Spider-Man cane along. The teen was sure that Michael had a hard-on for his Spidey persona ever sense he saw him swinging across the rooftops for the first time. He even made an online blog about it, acting like a freelance reporter from time to time. He’d do anything to get the story and to watch Spider-Man save their small New Jersey town. Of course Jeremy didn’t tell him that he was in fact Spider-Man, at least not yet, not wanting for Michael to get kidnapped, hurt, and/or killed.

Which is why Jeremy really didn’t want Michael here right now.

The boy struggled to speak, and his best friend spoke first “S…Mr. Spider-Man…sir…do you have any idea where my friend is? I haven’t seen him since the attack happened, and I’m worried…” Jeremy flushed behind his mask, he hated to admit it, Michael sounded so cute when he’s worried about him. He snapped back to reality after a second of bashful daydreaming. After a moment, Spider-Man finally found the strength to speak. “M…Michael…” The other teen looked confused, slightly scared even. “H…How do you know m- AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Jeremy’s eyes snapped open and he sat up to see the SQUIP statically floating away backwards while flipping him off with one hand and with the other gripping on to…oh…oh no he fucking didn’t.

“MICHAEL!!!”

Michael, his best friend since childhood, was being taken away by his arch nemesis. He looked scared out of his mind, gripping onto the SQUIP’s arm for the sole reason of not wanting to fall down and his glasses threatening to fall off his brown nose. The teenager, now hostage, looked like he was crying hysterically, shouting things that Jeremy could not understand from the far distance. He even reached a hand out towards him, a clear gesture for help, finally making Jeremy stand up and walk towards the window.

No matter what, he was going to save Michael Mell, and kill that fucking tic tac once and for all.

Spider-Man started swinging from building to building, trying to catch up to both the SQUIP and Michael. It was long and tedious, making Jeremy’s arms get tired after a long while. Finally they made it to the top of a skyscraper, the moon shining behind the even shinier SQUIP, and the hysterical hostage.

“So, Spidey, you made it. Took you long enough,” the villain smirked. “Help me…please help me…” Michael silently pleaded to Spider-Man, making his blood boil.

“Let. Him. Go.”

The SQUIP chuckled lowly. “Come on. What’s wrong with having a little guest watch me rip you to pieces?” He tightened his grip on the damsel, causing him to whimper. Jeremy was tempted to cry at the sight of him trembling in fear. “What do you even want from him?!” The psychopath simply shrugged. “Nothing, really. I just wanted to fuck with you.”

Spidey smirked under his mask. “Really? Cause I was about to do the same thing.” The SQUIP tilted his head in confusion and Spider-Man used the opportunity to trip him over with his webs and drag him toward him. The SQUIP tried to shock Michael out of anger, but Spider-Man took him out of the villain’s grip with his web and bring him behind a vent. Jeremy managed to dodge the SQUIP’s verifies static attacks and tie him up in his web while Michael cried in relief behind the vent.

Spider-Man was certain that the SQUIP would get out of those webs eventually, and will still be alive (much to his dismay), but the SQUIP’s defeat was not the main issue at the moment. He had to take Michael to safety.

The two of them swung from building to building, Michael clinging onto the hero as they did. It was at times like these that Jeremy wished he could tell his best friend his secret about being Spider-Man. He wanted for the two of them to swing from building to building together, to lay on a gigantic web and cuddle while they watched the night sky, to use his special webs in be-. Jeremy shook his head as he flushed again, only this time ten times harder. No matter how hard he wanted to tell Michael about his secret identity, he knew that he couldn’t do it. He knew that Michael would be in even more danger than he was with the SQUIP, he might even get killed or worse. Jeremy didn’t want his best friend to go through with being his Gwen Stacy.*

Eventually, the two made it to Michael’s room, and Spider-Man let the boy off of him. “You okay?” He asked, looking up and down to see if there were any injuries. Michael shook his head slowly, eyes still puffy from crying. “Y-Yea…I’m fine…T-Thank you…Thank you s-so much for saving me.”

Jeremy resisted the instinct to hug him right then and there. “It’s my pleasure as well as my duty…no need to thank me.”

A stray tear escaped Michael’s eye while Jeremy kept on speaking. “By the way…I saw your blog.” Michael flushed and tensed up at the statement. “Y-You…you d-did?” Spider-Man playfully nodded. “Yea…I did. You’re really talented.” Michael looked to the ground and rubbed the back of his neck while the hero continued. “You should definitely continue, but please try not to go into the face of danger head on just to get an article done next time, K?” Michael looked up and quickly nodded. “Okay, w-whatever you say!”

As a cute gesture goodbye, the super hero patted Michael’s head. “Stay safe, okay?” Spider-Man swung away, leaving Michael a blushing, sweating mess. Hey, it was better blushing in possible arousal than sobbing in fear, Jeremy reasoned.

Later that night, Jeremy went over to his best friend’s house with Mtn. Dew and Hawaiian pizza, Michael’s favorite. Throughout the night, Michael couldn’t stop talking about Spider-Man and how scared Michael was and how grateful he was for the rescue and how Spider-Man knew about his blog. Jeremy listened to all of it, extremely relieved to see Michael smile after the rough day he had.

Michael was safe, and he always will be under Jeremy’s watch.

(Sorry if it may seem a little sloppy. I’m still working on the codes of Tumblr, so if you see strange codes next to some of the text, just note that it is my noobness and I apologize for that)

(Also, thank you so much for @furornocturna for giving me wonderful prompts to work with! The world needs more Protective!Jeremy, dammit!)

(*Heh, get it, cause Gwen died in Amazing Spider-Man 2? Heh heh…I’m still dead inside after watching that scene.)

[choisgirls]

Hi! I love your blog and i was thinking what about RFA and MC getting caught by their son while having sex? :D

A/N: Oh god but canyou just imagine?? I know I’d be a mix of blunt about it while being awkward as fuCK  ~Admin 404

Uuuuh idk if this issupposed to be NSFW buuuut??? I’m gonna tag it that just in case?

*YOOSUNG:

           - SUB YOOSUNG AT YOUR SERVICE

           -Okay but if y'alls kid walked inand saw his daddy on his knees you can bet your sweet ass the child is confused

           -And Yoosung is red for the nextmonth

           -He can’t even look at your child inthe eye for at least a week and a half

           -“Daddy can you hand me thecrayons” “Dad you’re holding them out the wrong way” “DADCAN YOU JUST LOOK AT ME PLEASE YOU ALMOST HIT ME WITH THE CRAYONS”

           -Who had to have the sex talk withyour child? You. Yoosung couldn’t do it without getting embarrassed to thepoint he was gonna pass out

           -Completely mind blown that you wereable to calmly explain to your child all of this??? How???

           -He couldn’t even bring himself toget intimate with you for a while after that

           -It was like he had war flashbacksof your child walking in jfc yoosung it’s fINE

           -He locks the door every time andlike shoves a chair under the door handle

*ZEN:

           -Completely overdramatic

           -He practically jumps out of hisskin and jumps under the blankets, shooing your kid away

           -Kid just stands there like“wtf dad”

           -You’re stuck facepalming yourselfbecause the two of them are sassing each other now

           -Seriously you can slip out of bedand return like 2 hours later and they’re still sassing each other

           -You make Zen give the sex talk toyour child since he’s the one who wants to have a sass battle

           -He seriously went on to write hisown little play to explain it all, making sure it was kid friendly

           -But when it comes down to theactually talk, he’s embarrassed as all hell?

           -Not because he has to tell yourchild. But because you’re sitting there too. Shoo MC, shoo!

           -Overall, he’s not that embarrassedabout being caught by your child? Obviously he is a little but? Not really?“LOVE AND INTIMACY IS A BEAUTIFUL THING MC, I WILLL NEVER BE EMBARRASSEDABOUT LOVING YOU”

*JAEHEE:

           -Oh no the poor baby

           -Almost reacts like Yoosung, butcomposes herself

           -Though she is red for a few daysafterward

           - has a powerpoint to explain thesex talk

           -SHE’S MORE EMBARRASSED ABOUTEXPLAINING HOW PEOPLE OF THE SAME GENER CAN BE INTIMATE

           -“MC IS THIS TOO INDEPTH FOROUR CHILD?? SHOULD I CUT IT DOWN??”

           -“I WANT THEM TO BE EDUCATEDABOUT ALL FORMS OF LOVE”

           -“AND ALL FORMS OF SAFETY, ALLTHINGS THAT CAN GO WRONG, ALL THINGS THAT- MC STOP LAUGHING AT ME”

           -Needless to say that child is fullyeducated and has no idea what to do with this information

           -She always makes sure your guys’door is locked from then on though because she is not about to go through thatconversation again

*JUMIN:

           - HONESTLY CONSIDERED GETTINGBACK TO FUCKING AFTER YOUR KID LEFT

           - JUMIN, NO, WE GOTTA GO DEALWITH THIS

           -Grumpy Jumin™ ensues

           -He’s so to the point and blunt withthe kid that you’re the one embarrassed

           -“What? There’s no need tosugar coat it… it’s a natural thing amongst humans. It’s all just humanin-” “Jumin I swear to god if you don’t shut up and be kid-friendlyabout this we will NEVER get back to what we were doing”

           -Ding ding ding, that’s how you getJumin Han to immediately get kid-friendly, hand puppets and all

           -Takes back what he previously toldthe kid and made you help him explain it all with hand puppets

           -He’s more embarrassed about thepuppets than he is about getting caught fucking tbh

           -Most people would remember to lockthe door from now on but does he? No. Did he just forget to? Also no

           -Sees no point in locking the door,thinks your child should just learn that the two of you need “privatetime” 10/10 good thinkin’ jumin *side eye*

*SAEYOUNG:

           -AS RED AS HIS HAIR

           -He literally hides from your childfor the next few weeks

           -“DAD! I’M HOME!” *takesoff running, jumps into laundry basket*

           -Seriously, he uses his like secretagent moves against your child

           -THEY JUST WANT YOU TO READ THEM A STORY,SAEYOUNG

           -He’s talked Saeran into dressing upas him to give the sex talk to your child

           -But you saw right through it…. Considering…He was kinda like:

           -“People fuck. It’s a thing.Here’s how it happens-”

           -YOU HAD TO TACKLE HIM TO THE GROUNDAND FORCE HIM TO TELL YOU WHERE HIS BROTHER WAS. YOU HAD TO DRAG HIS ASS INTOTHE ROOM TO HAVE THE TALK

           -“BUT MC! THEY ARE A CHILD OF GO D. I’M A CHILD OF GOD! WE CAN’T HAVE THIS TALK”    

*V:

           -Hates being caught the most out ofall of them

           -Mainly because?? He has no ideawhat to tell your guys child?

           -!!! HE WANTS TO KEEP THEIRINNOCENCE!!!

           -NOTHING DIRTY UNTIL THEY’RE 42!!

           -Actually sobs when you tell him thetwo of you have to give your kid the talk

           -“But MC! They aren’t ready!They’re so young!” “Jihyun we can’t keep avoiding it, what if theytalk about it to their friends?? What if they look it up on the internet?? WhaTIF THEY ASK UNCLE JUMIN?”

           -*Runs down hall and slides intoroom* “LISTEN BABY WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT WHAT ADULTS DO WHEN THEY’RE INLOVE AND NEVER ASK UNCLE JUMIN”

           -*MC slides in next to him,stumbling* OR UNCLE SAERAN, PLEASE, NEVER UNCLE SAERAN

           -Your poor child is so confused??You two make up new names for everything and literally just kinda sugar coatthe whole thing to the point your child is drowning in sugar and can’t tellwhat the truth is

           -But V is at ease, knowing his babyis safe and nOT CORRUPTED BY THE KNOWLEDGE OF SEX

*SAERAN:

           -You seriously had to like smack hisarm so he’d stop

           -Because once y'all stopped, herolled to the side while you were talking to your child but this asshole keptkissing up your neck

           - fuckin’ prick

           -He’s a good father, don’t get himwrong, but he can be pretty blunt

           -So when it came to having the talk,you had to take charge and soften the blow of everything he said

           -Which he appreciated because?? Heknows he’s blunt, but he doesn’t know how to not be

           -He loves you and he loves his babyand hE JUST WANTS TO MAKE SURE YOU BOTH KNOW THAT

           -He wasn’t embarrassed before, butafter the talk was when he started to get embarrassed

           -Mainly becAUSE YOUR KID KEPT ASKINGQUESTIONS ABOUT IT AND HE WAS STUCK ANSWERING THEM BECAUSE YOU WEREN’T AROUND

           -HOW WAS HE SUPPOSED TO EXPLAIN TOYOUR CHILD WHY THERE’S BITE MARKS ON YOUR NECK??? TELL THEM HE’S A VAMPIRE???MC GET IN HERE HURRY UP

[imaginebeauty]

Second Chances// Part 20

Second Chances Masterlist

Masterlist

Words: 1341 Pairings: Bellamy x Reader Warnings: Violence? Nothing really. Episode: 3x06 Bitter Harvest

        You sat with Kane as he talked with Octavia through the walkie-talkie. You figured that you had had your cry over Jessie and now you would avenge him by bringing down Pike. 

        “Pike’s detail is still at it. Soil and water samples,” Octavia stated before clicking off.

        “Any idea what they’re up to?” Kane asked a look of worry etched into his features. 

        “No, but considering how heavily they’re armed, I don’t think they want anyone to find out,” She observed. “Crap..”

        “What is it?” You asked in a hushed voice, Kane repeating it into the radio.

        “There’s a Grounder kid. Hang on,” Octavia said.

        “Octavia? Octavia, please respond!” Kane pleaded. “Octavia, you there?”

        A moment of silence hushed over the room until the buzz of the radio vibrated. “They’re going after the kid. I’m trying to cut them off,” She responded. After a couple of minutes of waiting, she came through. “Kane?”

        “I’m here. You okay?” He asked.

        “You need to find out what Pike is up to. Right now. Whatever it is, they were willing to kill a kid to kept it quiet,” Octavia stated, a hint of anger in her voice.

        “We’re on it. You stay safe.”

        You had left Kane and Miller to handle placing the bug. Kane insisted on you staying out of this part because he didn’t want you to be there in case they were caught. You were already walking on thin ice with the Chancellor after you assaulted him, as Kane put it.

        Thankfully, Kane let you sit in with Miller and him while they listened in to Pikes meeting.

        “Okay, let’s get this meeting started. Welcome Farm Stations own Monty Green and factory girl Zoe Monroe as we begin our next crucial phase: expansion and salvation, and this will lead the way,” Pike started, making you shift in your seat.

        “Dirt?” asked someone you assumed was Monroe.

        “Soil. Fertile, arable soil. Vastly richer than anything we’ve found since landing. We’ll clear the trees and plant within the month,” Pike stated.

        “We start with soybeans and corn. They grow the fastest,” Hannah added.

        “What’s wrong Monty? You don’t like corn?” One of them teased.

        “I’ve never had corn, actually,” Monty said matter-of-factly. “Is this where we’re going?”

        “That’s right.”

        “There’s a village here. What about the people who live there?” Monty asked, and you silently praised him for have a shred of decency to even so much as ask that question.

        “Sector four. We talked about this. The people there are not a threat,” Bellamy stated coldly.

        “We need that land. With the loss of Mt. Weather’s recourses, Arkadia will be starving in less than a year,” Pike informed.

        “With all due respect sir, you still haven’t answered Monty’s question.”

        “You know the answer. Every field must be cleared of stones before it’s tilled.”

        You balled your hands into fists, trying to remain calm though your thoughts were flooded with angry thoughts and curses.

        “We were spotted by a child so they’ll be expecting us, but they lost their fighters when we took out the army. We don’t expect resistance.”

        “They’re Grounders. They’ll resist,” Monty stated firmly, and you nodded in agreement at his comment.

        “Even if they don’t, the Commander’s message was clear. Blood must not have blood, that doesn’t mean we can start taking-“

        “What would you prefer,” Pike interrupted. “Die fighting for your home or starve to death? Will you do what needs to be done for your people to survive or what?”        

        “We’ll do what needs to be done,” Bellamy answered. You shook your head in disappoint, your eyes finding the ground sadly.

        You waited outside the cave for Octavia as she talked with Miller. You were going to stop this attack and stop this war because that’s what Jessie would’ve wanted.

        You followed behind Octavia and Helios. Upon arriving at the village you raised your hands and repeated,” I mean you no harm.”

        You dismounted and followed Octavia’s lead. 

        “Liar! I’ve seen your face. You were at the Battle of the Mountain. They’re Skaikru. Your guns killed our brothers and sisters. Warriors, sent by the commander to keep you safe,” Semet spat as they started circling you.

        “I’m sorry for your loss,” Octavia said, hands still raised.

        “Hey! I-I know how you are feeling,” You started, making eye contact with Semet. “I loved one of your warriors. Jessie. I know how you feel because I feel the same.”

        “We’re here to warn you that the soldiers who did that are coming here now. They want your land, and they will kill all of you to get it. You need to leave this place right now,” Octavia warned.

        “Are you threatening us?” Semet asked, completely ignoring all that you had said and not understanding what Y'all were trying to do.

        Not waiting for an answer, he knocked her leg out from underneath her with his cane before kicking her in the mouth. He went to bash her head in, but she rolled away. Octavia jerked the cane away from him and rose again, wielding it. She turned it on him like a spear but held up her hand. Meanwhile, you watched skeptically, and thankfully no one made a move on you.

        “I’m trying to help,” Octavia said in their tongue.

        “Why should we believe you?” Semet asked, followed by a little boy pushing his way through the crowd.

        “Because she helped me, Semet,” He said.

        “You’re the one who saved Gavriel?” He asked, the tension in his shoulders slowly falling.

        Octavia wordlessly tossed him his cane.

        “Don’t leave,” He demanded, before walking away. 

        Octavia panted and shared words with the little boy briefly, spitting up blood as he left. 

        You stood next to your horse silently, as the grounders discussed options out of earshot of you and O. Octavia was tending to Helios when the little boy returned. She let him pet the horse and smiled softly and scene. 

        “Gavriel, go pack your thinks. Go on,” Semet ushered as he made his way over. Once Gavriel was out of earshot, he continued,” His parents were warriors, both killed by Skaikru guns.”

        “You decided to leave,” You said.

        He nodded. “As you say, we’re no match for Skaikru.”

        You nodded solemnly. “What you’re doing is as brave as going to battle, Semet,” You added.

        Some men were shouting, causing you and Octavia to turn your attention to the noise. They were standing over wood and wiping goo off their hands. Octavia walked over and quickly put two and two together. They were wiping acid onto the wood to set it on fire.

        “What is this?” She asked, your eyes darted to Semet in confusion.

        “You think you know us? You two no nothing,” He stated. 

        Next thing you know a Grounder had blindfolded O and knocked her outside the head, knocking her out cold. Your eyes darted around frantically as big arms grabbed you, you struggled to no use. They had their arm wrapped around your neck in a choke hold and the next thing you knew, you were suffocating. You fell unconscious and they released their grip on you, letting you fall limply to the ground.

        You woke up to noises and Octavia taking off the ropes that were tied around you. Quickly realizing what was happened, you jumped to your feet and raced over to your horse. You followed O around the ridge.

        You watched as Bellamy led the rest of Skaikru into the village. 

        “Bellamy! Get them out of there! It’s a trap!” You shouted. 

        You watched as the grounders shot arrows onto the acid cover logs, releasing a smoke. 

        “The smoke is poison,” Octavia breathed.

        Bellamy and the others started to fall back and go back to the rover, but Monroe was caught in the fog. You look down at your scared hand and shivered, the smoke reminding you of the searing paint the acid fog had caused you. Your breath hitched as you saw Monty go and get Monroe.

        “Please be safe,” You breathed.

Tagging:

@otaku-fangirlse @random-fandom-lady @blue-berry-barry-allen @krystyna-exe @in-my-dreams-200  @youtubehelpsmesurvive @damagedbrokenbuthappy @famchester      @s-wood @mayasmedberg @two-worlds-collab @got17kookiesss @leenasleena-blog @okaybellarke @pinkleopardss @im-socialy-awkward-no-joke @okaybellarke @divisionlunar @ana-hic @unprofessional-inhumanbeing @sassyloop @sassyloop @divisionlunar @thenovarose

[weaponizedhorse]

The Spoon Theory

So I got an ask on my chronic illness blog ( http://chronically-kickass.tumblr.com/post/164330045188/any-suggestions-for-fatigue-both-in-general-and) about tips for fatigue and I had to look up the orginal spoon theory post and re-read it again and just remembered how amazing it is for explaining how we deal with chronic illness. I dont think aI’ve talked that indepth about the spoon theory here and if I have it was a long time ago. And I know a ton of people have misused the spoon theory on tumblr so much so that people think it’s a joke or ridiculous now when someone says “I dont have spoons for that” I’ve seen some blogs say that they think it’s dumb or ridiculous because people have used it in dumb and ridiculous ways. But it really is an amazing tool for people with chronic illness. So i thought would post the original spoon theory here so y'all can get a little glimpse of what its like to be me! And here is also a link to the original post The spoon post https://butyoudontlooksick.com/articles/written-by-christine/the-spoon-theory/

Just replace “lupus” with “Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome” So without further ado!

The spoon theory;

My best friend and I were in the diner, talking. As usual, it was very late and we were eating French fries with gravy. Like normal girls our age, we spent a lot of time in the diner while in college, and most of the time we spent talking about boys, music or trivial things, that seemed very important at the time. We never got serious about anything in particular and spent most of our time laughing.

As I went to take some of my medicine with a snack as I usually did, she watched me with an awkward kind of stare, instead of continuing the conversation. She then asked me out of the blue what it felt like to have Lupus and be sick. I was shocked not only because she asked the random question, but also because I assumed she knew all there was to know about Lupus. She came to doctors with me, she saw me walk with a cane, and throw up in the bathroom. She had seen me cry in pain, what else was there to know?

I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn’t seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.

I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.

I started to ramble on about pills, and aches and pains, but she kept pursuing, and didn’t seem satisfied with my answers. I was a little surprised as being my roommate in college and friend for years; I thought she already knew the medical definition of Lupus. Then she looked at me with a face every sick person knows well, the face of pure curiosity about something no one healthy can truly understand. She asked what it felt like, not physically, but what it felt like to be me, to be sick.

As I tried to gain my composure, I glanced around the table for help or guidance, or at least stall for time to think. I was trying to find the right words. How do I answer a question I never was able to answer for myself? How do I explain every detail of every day being effected, and give the emotions a sick person goes through with clarity. I could have given up, cracked a joke like I usually do, and changed the subject, but I remember thinking if I don’t try to explain this, how could I ever expect her to understand. If I can’t explain this to my best friend, how could I explain my world to anyone else? I had to at least try.

At that moment, the spoon theory was born. I quickly grabbed every spoon on the table; hell I grabbed spoons off of the other tables. I looked at her in the eyes and said “Here you go, you have Lupus”. She looked at me slightly confused, as anyone would when they are being handed a bouquet of spoons. The cold metal spoons clanked in my hands, as I grouped them together and shoved them into her hands.

I explained that the difference in being sick and being healthy is having to make choices or to consciously think about things when the rest of the world doesn’t have to. The healthy have the luxury of a life without choices, a gift most people take for granted.

Most people start the day with unlimited amount of possibilities, and energy to do whatever they desire, especially young people. For the most part, they do not need to worry about the effects of their actions. So for my explanation, I used spoons to convey this point. I wanted something for her to actually hold, for me to then take away, since most people who get sick feel a “loss” of a life they once knew. If I was in control of taking away the spoons, then she would know what it feels like to have someone or something else, in this case Lupus, being in control.

She grabbed the spoons with excitement. She didn’t understand what I was doing, but she is always up for a good time, so I guess she thought I was cracking a joke of some kind like I usually do when talking about touchy topics. Little did she know how serious I would become?

I asked her to count her spoons. She asked why, and I explained that when you are healthy you expect to have a never-ending supply of “spoons”. But when you have to now plan your day, you need to know exactly how many “spoons” you are starting with. It doesn’t guarantee that you might not lose some along the way, but at least it helps to know where you are starting. She counted out 12 spoons. She laughed and said she wanted more. I said no, and I knew right away that this little game would work, when she looked disappointed, and we hadn’t even started yet. I’ve wanted more “spoons” for years and haven’t found a way yet to get more, why should she? I also told her to always be conscious of how many she had, and not to drop them because she can never forget she has Lupus.

I asked her to list off the tasks of her day, including the most simple. As, she rattled off daily chores, or just fun things to do; I explained how each one would cost her a spoon. When she jumped right into getting ready for work as her first task of the morning, I cut her off and took away a spoon. I practically jumped down her throat. I said ” No! You don’t just get up. You have to crack open your eyes, and then realize you are late. You didn’t sleep well the night before. You have to crawl out of bed, and then you have to make your self something to eat before you can do anything else, because if you don’t, you can’t take your medicine, and if you don’t take your medicine you might as well give up all your spoons for today and tomorrow too.” I quickly took away a spoon and she realized she hasn’t even gotten dressed yet. Showering cost her spoon, just for washing her hair and shaving her legs. Reaching high and low that early in the morning could actually cost more than one spoon, but I figured I would give her a break; I didn’t want to scare her right away. Getting dressed was worth another spoon. I stopped her and broke down every task to show her how every little detail needs to be thought about. You cannot simply just throw clothes on when you are sick. I explained that I have to see what clothes I can physically put on, if my hands hurt that day buttons are out of the question. If I have bruises that day, I need to wear long sleeves, and if I have a fever I need a sweater to stay warm and so on. If my hair is falling out I need to spend more time to look presentable, and then you need to factor in another 5 minutes for feeling badly that it took you 2 hours to do all this.

I think she was starting to understand when she theoretically didn’t even get to work, and she was left with 6 spoons. I then explained to her that she needed to choose the rest of her day wisely, since when your “spoons” are gone, they are gone. Sometimes you can borrow against tomorrow’s “spoons”, but just think how hard tomorrow will be with less “spoons”. I also needed to explain that a person who is sick always lives with the looming thought that tomorrow may be the day that a cold comes, or an infection, or any number of things that could be very dangerous. So you do not want to run low on “spoons”, because you never know when you truly will need them. I didn’t want to depress her, but I needed to be realistic, and unfortunately being prepared for the worst is part of a real day for me.

We went through the rest of the day, and she slowly learned that skipping lunch would cost her a spoon, as well as standing on a train, or even typing at her computer too long. She was forced to make choices and think about things differently. Hypothetically, she had to choose not to run errands, so that she could eat dinner that night.

When we got to the end of her pretend day, she said she was hungry. I summarized that she had to eat dinner but she only had one spoon left. If she cooked, she wouldn’t have enough energy to clean the pots. If she went out for dinner, she might be too tired to drive home safely. Then I also explained, that I didn’t even bother to add into this game, that she was so nauseous, that cooking was probably out of the question anyway. So she decided to make soup, it was easy. I then said it is only 7pm, you have the rest of the night but maybe end up with one spoon, so you can do something fun, or clean your apartment, or do chores, but you can’t do it all.

I rarely see her emotional, so when I saw her upset I knew maybe I was getting through to her. I didn’t want my friend to be upset, but at the same time I was happy to think finally maybe someone understood me a little bit. She had tears in her eyes and asked quietly “Christine, How do you do it? Do you really do this everyday?” I explained that some days were worse then others; some days I have more spoons then most. But I can never make it go away and I can’t forget about it, I always have to think about it. I handed her a spoon I had been holding in reserve. I said simply, “I have learned to live life with an extra spoon in my pocket, in reserve. You need to always be prepared.”

Its hard, the hardest thing I ever had to learn is to slow down, and not do everything. I fight this to this day. I hate feeling left out, having to choose to stay home, or to not get things done that I want to. I wanted her to feel that frustration. I wanted her to understand, that everything everyone else does comes so easy, but for me it is one hundred little jobs in one. I need to think about the weather, my temperature that day, and the whole day’s plans before I can attack any one given thing. When other people can simply do things, I have to attack it and make a plan like I am strategizing a war. It is in that lifestyle, the difference between being sick and healthy. It is the beautiful ability to not think and just do. I miss that freedom. I miss never having to count “spoons”.

After we were emotional and talked about this for a little while longer, I sensed she was sad. Maybe she finally understood. Maybe she realized that she never could truly and honestly say she understands. But at least now she might not complain so much when I can’t go out for dinner some nights, or when I never seem to make it to her house and she always has to drive to mine. I gave her a hug when we walked out of the diner. I had the one spoon in my hand and I said “Don’t worry. I see this as a blessing. I have been forced to think about everything I do. Do you know how many spoons people waste everyday? I don’t have room for wasted time, or wasted “spoons” and I chose to spend this time with you.”

Ever since this night, I have used the spoon theory to explain my life to many people. In fact, my family and friends refer to spoons all the time. It has been a code word for what I can and cannot do. Once people understand the spoon theory they seem to understand me better, but I also think they live their life a little differently too. I think it isn’t just good for understanding Lupus, but anyone dealing with any disability or illness. Hopefully, they don’t take so much for granted or their life in general. I give a piece of myself, in every sense of the word when I do anything. It has become an inside joke. I have become famous for saying to people jokingly that they should feel special when I spend time with them, because they have one of my “spoons”.

[spnsisimagines]

Just Let Him Have This

Warnings: None I think? Characters: Sam & Dean Winchester, Adam Milligan, Sister Winchester Reader Summary: You find it difficult to trust Adam as he becomes part of the family Reader’s Age: Any Word Count: 989

Y/N: Your Name

A/N: This took FOREVER but I’m glad I got something out! Enjoy!

Finding out that your dad had another kid was hard enough, but actually meeting the guy was harder. His name was Adam. He had contacted you and your brothers by calling your dad’s old phone. After finding out he was telling the truth- that he was indeed John’s son- Sam was more willing to accept him into the family. You and Dean were a little more weary.

You and your, now three, brothers got a motel.

“They don’t have any rooms with at least three beds so we get two separate rooms,” Dean informed everyone as he approached the Impala.

“So, who bunks up with who?” you asked, crossing your arms over you chest as your eyes darted to Adam.

“Y/N, why don’t you and Adam take a room?” Sam suggested.

You were about to protest until Adam spoke up, “I’m cool with that.” You hesitantly decided not to argue and grabbed your stuff with a groan, heading into the motel room.

“Which bed do you want?” you directed at Adam as you dropped your bag by the door.

He shrugged, “Doesn’t matter.”

Rolling your eyes and with a sigh, you set your bag onto the bed closest to the door. “Fine. I get this one.” You figured if he tried to leave in the middle of the night he’d have to walk pass you.

Adam softly nodded and went to his bed. You laid down on yours and got out your phone to text Sam.

You: Thanks for that…

Sam: You need to get to know him.

You: So you decided the best way to do that was to make us share a room?

Sam: I’m sorry Y/N, but you can’t hate the guy if you don’t know him.

You: Why were you so fast at liking him anyway?

Sam: I guess my instinct isn’t to hate people when I first meet them.

You: I’m just being cautious.

Sam: I know, I’m sorry. Just try to talk to him, please?

You: Fine.

You set your phone down and looked to your right. You easily found Adam, passed out on the bed. You sighed, realizing you weren’t going to be able to fall asleep with a stranger in the bed next to you.

You turned on the TV and started flipping through the channels until you heard your phone buzz. Picking it up, Dean’s name glowed back at you.

Dean: Did you kill him yet?

You: No. You: I’m gonna kill Sam though.

Dean: Yeah. I gave him a mouthful when we got into our motel room.

You: I’m not gonna be able to sleep with him here.

Dean: I know.

As soon as you read the text there was a faint knock on the door. You got up, grabbing your gun just in case and stepped over to the door.

The gun that you pressed to the back of the door went to the dresser. You sighed when you saw Dean standing there with pie.

“Want some pie?” Dean smiled. You grabbed your jacket and followed Dean over to the Impala.

You hopped onto the hood of Baby. Dean handed you a piece of pie with a fork and you began eating. Dean laid back on the hood and stared at the stars.

“Do I have to share a room with him?” you asked, hoping the answer would be no, but expecting the opposite.

“I don’t like it either but… Sam does have a point. We need to get to know him,” Dean shrugged, taking a swig of his beer.

“I don’t trust him,” you replied and looked over to Dean, seeing him staring at you.

“I know. You don’t have to trust him right away. After all, trust is something you earn, but you have to give him a chance to do that. And then, if you still don’t trust him, you can go stabbing him with a knife,” Dean chuckled. You smiled and nodded in response.

Dean did make a really good point. You don’t have to trust the guy right away. If Adam wants to get to know you and be a real brother, he’ll work to earn your trust.

After talking for a few hours and staring into the sky, you and Dean called it a night. You walked into your motel room and saw Adam still in his bed. To be honest, you thought he would’ve left while you were outside.

The alarm blared in your ears, jolting you awake. Yawning, you rolled over and Adam was gone. You jumped up and raced to the bathroom to find it empty. You were halfway to the motel door when it swung open to reveal Adam carrying a few bags.

“Y'okay?” Adam asked once he saw your frazzled self.

“Where’d you go?” You stepped closer to him.

“To get some food. I got donuts, waffles, pancakes, and a salad… I don’t know what any of you eat…” Adam said, setting the bags onto the table.

You relaxed. “Oh…” You walked over to the bags. “Thanks.”

You grabbed some waffles and sat down at the table. You heard a knock at the door. Behind it was Sam and Dean.

“I smell food,” Dean hummed as he bolted towards the food.

It’s been a few weeks since Adam joined the family. It took a little while, but now you’re comfortable with saying he’s your brother. He’s even become a little protective of you.

“And then I jumped out and chopped the vamps head off!” Dean told the story to Adam.

“You seemed to be confused. I remember me jumping out and saving you two,” you joined the conversation.

“Details,” Dean waved you off and continued to tell the story.

Adam leaned over to you and whispered, “He doesn’t actually think I believe that story, right?”

“Just let him have this,” you replied with a chuckle and Adam nodded with a smile.

Requested by Anonymous “Hi! I love your blog!! Could you write a sister imagine where the Sister meets Adam with the brothers and she’s a little suspicious of him at first but then they become close?”

A/N: TYSM!💕

I hope y'all like this one! I’m open for tips on improving!

Tags: @magicalsis11, @joanne-egberp, @16wiishes, @ledledledledled, @fanboyswhereare-you, @athenepallas, @sammyfigginwinchester, @spnkisum, @xsecretrejectx, @pretty-odd-jenn, @jamies-supernatural-world, @oneshotsdeanshort, @jiggysupernatural, @jensen-jarpad, @capruinedmylife, @bea789, @beholders-chroniclers, @starswirlblitz, @of-virtuoso

[alo-piss-trancy]

Are there any sdr2 characters that you don’t like or just aren’t very interested in?

BIG SPOILER WARNING FOR SDR2 BELOW! DO NOT READ THIS POST IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED THE GAME!

It's actually neat getting this question because I can see where some characters I used to dislike/find annoying in the beginning have worked their way up. For example, I initially despised Te/ruTeru, but after his backstory reveal I ended up feeling some sympathy for him and realized despite some traits, he wasn't entirely a bad guy (and I'm assuming his social link will endear him to me a little once I get around to it in island mode).

In fact, I can only really think of two I actively dislike/hate now: Nag/ito and Hiy/oko.

Real quick: Obviously these are all solely my opinions! I have no problem with my followers viewing characters differently, so even if you're the biggest fan of these chars I hope y'all know you're always welcome on my blog! 💛 Feel free to ramble in my inbox about them or chatter about omo, I genuinely enjoy discussing things or seeing different hcs even if I don't share them and I love seeing people be passionate about whatever makes them happy! Heck, sometimes fan ideas even end up changing my mind or at least make fun aus!

Now back to the question:

Hiy/oko's behavior in many instances was just appalling, and the way she cared about Mah/iru, while sad/sweet, still couldn't make up for all of her other bullshit. I can't stand little snots and I don't like 'loli' characters, so she's basically a 2-for-1 special on tropes I find irritating. Also high pitched voices are grating on my ears. After finishing the game I still stand by my original sentiment: Good Riddance Bitch. She will not be missed. As a note, I haven't done her FTEs yet so maybe it'll change, but I think it's pretty unlikely.

Na/gito is just. Idk where to start with him tbh. He definitely serves his role in the plot well, has great interactions with the rest of the cast, and really made me feel like I was struggling and he was so smugly one step ahead. I appreciate him as part of the story and it wouldn't be the same without him (Some of the memes about him are also really funny lmao). That being said, as far as his character and my personal tastes go, I fucking hate him lmao. Not 'villain I love to hate'. I just can't stand him and am lowkey annoyed at how popular/'woobified' he is in some parts of the fandom. My feelings on him are pretty similar to Ak/echi from p/5, except at least Ake/chi was understandable, whereas every time Nag/ito goes on a long spiel I'm just braindead and confused lmao. That or annoyed because he repeats himself like 30 times. I really thought doing his FTE's would endear him to me a little but it actually just made me dislike him more. He's just... he goes 120% ALL THE TIME and he's all over the place, it was overwhelming and gave me whiplash. Also while I do feel bad for him and the clear issues he had, the CONSTANT 'I'm worthless trash please kill me haha I don't deserve your kindness' talk really got on my nerves. Maybe it wouldn't have bothered me so much if I played the game back in the year it came out? But in this day and age all it reminded me of was certain 'Crabs in a Bucket' people I've known or witnessed who formed their entire identity around self-hatred and desperately tried to drag others down with them. (Note: I'm not talking about the general struggles with depression, etc. here. But I don't want to go into a lecture on exactly what I mean so I'll just leave it at that.) Nag/ito's not entirely the same thing and I get that, but it just rubbed me the wrong way because of that association.

Overall I just find him obnoxious and tend to avoid stuff that focuses on him. I might try writing a short omo thing about him being tied up because, like, how could I not? But besides that don't expect much from me. All of that said, I don't mind other people talking about him and y'all are free to send me asks with your own opinions or hcs, I might give my own occasionally. And I do like seeing art sometimes.

Also though, I ship him hard with Ju/nko (and in a poly with her and Mik/an). I'm also interested in him x Chi/aki since they're yin/yang parallels and have some similarities in design and the art of them together is neat. Not sure how much I ship them as far as actual canon or writing goes, but aesthetically it's pretty neat.

I think it's also worth mentioning that Ka/zuichi So/da toes a real weird line for me. Not in the sense that I actually hate him (his design is neat and he can be likeable at times), but that I hate what the game did with him. Which was not doing ANYTHING with him. His character had a lot of potential to be interesting, but they never let him break past the two running gags: Being confused about EVERYTHING, and obsessing over So/nia (to the point about making multiple sex jokes/getting flustered over her during the middle of the most serious trial in the game (Na/gito's death), which makes no sense even for him and completely ruined the mood). Every other survivor had important spotlight moments in the plot, developed their character as they went, and formed meaningful relationships with at least one other character to drive them forwards/give them angst. Kaz/uichi had none of that and I can't think of a single instance where he ACTUALLY had bearing on the plot, positively or negatively. He's basically the Fortune Teller Guy of this game: completely useless and ignored unless he needs to question something for exposition or drag the protag somewhere, scraping by only because he isn't hated or liked enough by anyone to get murdered and is too scared to kill. He didn't survive because he was genuinely fighting/had the ability to, but because everyone just forgot about him and left him alone.

A lot of his issues could have been fixed by just having a point in the game where he learns to treat So/nia as a person instead of being so obnoxious about following her around (he dislikes Ter/uTeru but then pretty much is just as annoying, only difference is he's a little less immoral and more just unable to take hints). Haj/ime even pointed this out in the last chapter with his thoughts of 'Dude just take a hint already'. If the game put them on more equal footing and he like, actually got to know her, it would've been way easier to believe he was fighting FOR So/nia in the same way all the others were fighting for someone they loved, and he might have actually done more throughout the game. He might have had some actual development and maturity, but instead he's pretty much the exact same person he was at the start of the game (I don't remember them even really touching on how he felt about the final chapter's Big Reveal). Because his obsession and cluelessness was one of his defining traits, they never let him do anything besides that. I spent most of the game convinced he was going to get a case in a trial or big moment eventually since they kept giving him so much screentime and let him make it so far, but there was just nothing. He's just a giant mass of wasted potential and for that reason I struggle to enjoy him without getting irritated.

Quick note to clarify: I'm not hating on him because of the ship with So/nia or because he 'gets in the way' of Gun/dham. I honestly don't mind that, the problem is just the lack of development I mentioned above. I could def enjoy the ship or a love triangle if they gave him smth. (And I realize part of that was the point, that G/undham 'gets the girl' bc he actually respected and talked to her, but still. The chapters after that point would have been the perfect time to let So/da have some viewpoint shifts and make efforts to change but they didn't).

Actually tbh even if they wanted to keep his obsession, I would've been fine with that, IF they had given him some other plot/character besides that. Like if he had some important tasks to do and was pretty good at them, but they also turned it into a flaw where he would prioritize helping/following her sometimes over what he was supposed to do and caused problems as a result, that could have been interesting. Creating tension within the surviving group or having her get mad at him over it, just SOMETHING.