#it's so rare that sometimes you think people ARE thinking of you and really they just ain't

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[womanclature]

I can’t exactly assume that OP intended to shame people who "say they can't watch/play/read anything slightly upsetting or scary or challenging because it's... upsetting or scary or challenging,” but to me it does sound like shame (and it sounds condescending to boot). I think it sounds shameful because OP said “challenging,” seemingly implying that a person’s entertainment content ought to be “challenging” for them, at least sometimes (frequency not specified). Whether or not someone’s entertainment should challenge them is probably a longtime argument in the art community. I believe that part of our role in life as humans is to try to be the best version of ourselves that we can be (Nietzsche’s “will to power”), and I agree that personal growth rarely, if ever, comes without some challenges. Notice I am not saying “No art form is allowed to contain challenging content.” Not only do I disagree with such censorship, I think it would be detrimental to exercising our capacities for coping with hardship. I am asking, “Does each and every individual's unique diet of entertainment have to contain some minimum amount of challenging content?” Requiring some minimum amount of challenging content – this feels a little like putting brussel sprouts in chocolate cake. That’s not really what chocolate cake is for, is it? Life is challenging. Everyone experiences challenges from life to varying degrees. Some people perceive that they experience more challenges than others. For example, my entire childhood lacked role models, guidance, emotional support, stability, safety, peace, and even privacy at times. As a result, I have a higher baseline of tension in my body at all times. So when I approach entertainment, I feel less safe consuming upsetting content than would the viewer with a healthier, more supportive background. Thus my tolerance for upsetting material has different limits. (Do I adhere to those limits? No, not always, because I am also good at ignoring my body’s stress signals, to my own detriment, of course.) Therefore, I would say to the person who is going through a difficult time, who feels exhausted, who can’t think any more thoughts at the moment – I don’t think you should let a stranger on the internet make you feel ashamed for re-reading "Pride and Prejudice” for the third time, or rewatching “Gossip Girl,” or doing whatever it is you do that makes you feel good inside. In fact, I think some degree of escapism can actually be healthy. Humans are unique in how “online” their brains are at all times, and I don’t think evolution completely equipped us with any innate mechanisms to compensate for that (often very stressful) fact. So, we manufactured them. And that’s ok so long as we aren’t hurting ourselves or repeatedly missing out on important opportunities “irl.” Let’s encourage each other to grow and challenge ourselves. But let’s not shame each other for having creature comforts. Everyone has his or her own path. We can choose to be respectful of that path.

whenever people say they can't watch/play/read anything slightly upsetting or scary or challenging because it's... upsetting or scary or challenging all i can think of is this lol

[dbdakindy]

do the kiddos like hugs?? do they get enough hugs?????

They absolutely do get all the hugs they want!

Charles loves hugs! Hugs aren’t common in the Rowland household when his dad is around, but when he’s away, mummy spoils Charles with hugs. He quickly learns that hugs are her way of telling him he’s safe and loved. So when he’s in school, he shares them with friends. Edwin and Mr. Kutta are his favourite to hug—aside from mummy. And although Edwin isn’t much for hugs, he melts into Charles’ all the same. 

Edwin is not a hugger. He’s as picky with hugs as he is with food, and he rarely initiates them. The only times he does is when he’s with Charles and/or his dads, but his dads reassure him that that’s fine. While Niko hugs people as freely as Charles, Crystal would rather someone hold her hand in comfort when she’s sad; Edwin’s learned that people show love and support in all sorts of different ways.

Crystal did not grow up with hugs. She was brought up to be a proper, polite young lady, and affection wasn’t something she’s used to. Hugging is new and awkward for her, but Niko and Charles are teaching her how to do them properly. And although Crystal still finds hugging a bit weird, she’s learned to see them as another way to show affection with her friends and her beloved butler. She’s practicing hard so when her aunties come to visit, she can hug them perfectly.

Niko believes her mama, papa, and baba hugged her as soon as she was born. Mama and baba made sure to let her know every day that they both love her very much through hugs, and although Niko knows hugs can mean so many different things, she thinks they’re the simplest and best way to show someone they’re important to you. She would hug the whole world if she could! So if she refuses to hug you… well. That just means she doesn’t like you very much.

Thomas is very prickly with hugs. Because he only knew Papu, Auntie Tess, and his toy Burger for the longest time, he’s only really comfortable hugging them and a few other people, like his best friend Niko and maybe Crystal. And although he’d rather initiate hugs, he’s learned that sometimes he has to wait for friends to tell him it’s okay to hug them. Thomas would really love to hug Edwin, and he’s currently practicing how to ask him for one politely at home with Papu.

Monty is not used to hugs as well. Esther isn’t a very affectionate mother, and as an ambitious actress, she’s often busy with new projects. But once Charles hugs him for the first time, Monty discovers he quite likes them, and begins asking for them in his own way. Thomas is his favourite to hug—he privately thinks the chase and the squeaky noises Thomas makes are absolutely hilarious.

[fairestwriting]

Octatrio! With a shorter crush that can pick them up easily and does so in a bout of excitement, princess style!

Azul Ashengrotto

He wants you to think highly of him. Like, really wants to. A lot of the time, when you two are talking, that’s what’s in his mind. But much to his dismay — and no matter how clear you make that you find it endearing — he actually gets flustered very easily. He’ll try everything in his power to play it cool, but there’s only so much one can do to try to hide a blushing face.

And he thinks about you a lot, much more than he wants to let on. This includes coming up with ideas of how to bring out that enthusiastic side you have that he likes so much. Azul will remember each and every interest of yours that you mention, then plan out a way to casually bring it up some other time, maybe even get you a gift that’s related to it. There’s always a tailored justification on why you don’t need to pay him back for it too, “kind” enough for you to feel special, but not so much that it feels unbelievable.

The princess carry is a popular trope, and you’re small enough the thought has crossed his mind. Azul might not be the strongest guy around, but he’s definitely not weak, though he’s not really confident enough in his skills to really try, and there’s also things like timing to keep in mind, what even would be the right moment to do something like that— There’s a non zero chance that very thought would be on his mind right when you lift him up, even.

Actually yelps when you do it, drops whatever he’s holding, it’s a whole situation. He doesn’t know how to respond, both because he didn’t expect you to be strong and because you’re carrying him, he won’t even register whatever words you say. Floyd cheers you on if he’s nearby. When you put him down, Azul apologizes for his "unflattering" reaction in a voice that sounds like he’s trying really hard not to faint.

Jade Leech

He did have a feeling you were stronger than you looked, pretty much since you two met. It wasn’t something he guessed right off the bat, and he even doubted it a little bit sometimes, but he watched you close enough to be able to tell. It’s not that hard to notice, if you just look at the way you handle heavier objects and such… or at least that’s what he would tell you.

But of course, thinking you’d be able to lift him was far from what he had guessed. He’s very tall, clearly taller than you, and even though Floyd exercises more, Jade does still have a pretty decent amount of muscle. He’s not light at all! Even a lot of people around his height would have trouble lifting him up, and you just did it like that? So effortlessly? Definitely a way to get a very rare, very wide eyed look from him, that maybe no one has even seen in years.

“Oya, since when are you this strong?” He asks with a chuckle. He’s pretty good at getting it together and putting on a composed look, even when you’re carrying him around in your arms like that, but you’d have to be really oblivious to not notice the underlying shock. Jade will laugh along with you about whatever had you so excited in the first place, but the main thing that’s really in his mind is a reminder to watch you even more closely now. Where does that strength come from, after all? You’re really full of surprises, aren’t you…

Sort of wants you to do it again, but mostly starts to want to be the one to do it to you instead. Maybe it's something like payback. He has good self restraint, he’s not just going to scoop you up into his arms unprompted and carry you off wherever… But if the opportunity comes up, like if he takes you hiking and you comment about your legs being tired, he’s not ignoring it. Smiles slyly at you in a way that makes you wonder if that’s the reason he invited you in the first place.

Floyd Leech

Like Jade, he can tell you’re not weak, but it works completely different with him. He’s not really watching you per se and it’s much more of an instinctive feel. And on top of everything, you’re just so cute and tiny? He didn’t have to think to pick your nickname at all, you couldn’t be anything other than Shrimpy. He would’ve given it to you even if it meant taking it from someone else.

Floyd himself will pick you up a lot when he gets excited, laughing and twirling you around. It doesn’t actually matter how heavy you are, you’re light as a feather to him, his cute little Shrimpy that he could toss around if he wanted— He says that to you, straight up, with a huge cheerful smile on his face. He’ll never be quiet about how cute he thinks you are, doesn’t matter if you only met a few days ago.

If you’re excited about something while talking to him, chances are that he is too. You’ll be happily talking back and forth, sharing whatever comments first come to mind, and it was really just a coincidence you happened to get the urge to pick him up first this time. If you had been even just one second late, he would already have you lifted off the ground.

He’s surprised when it happens, obviously, but honestly a lot less shocked than most people would be? Maybe he just had a feeling all along, Floyd is just like that sometimes. He’s still laughing and joking with you about whatever the topic was before, with a side of "Woah, Shrimpy is so strong!", he doesn’t care how many things he ends up knocking over from getting twirled around by you. Will return the gesture when you put him down, lifting you higher than he ever had before. It genuinely makes him happy that you can do the same. Doesn’t mean he’s ever going to stop fawning over you being smaller than him though, you’re his little Shrimpy no matter what— Maybe even more than before now.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[wolvietxt]

𝓢ILENT 𝓣REATMENT.

pairings : frank castle x fem!reader warnings : argument, crying, hurt / comfort, happy ending, established relationship au, shouting, implied size diff (like my fav trope if you can’t already tell) silent treatment  summary : after an argument with frank, you both end up giving eachother silent treatment, until the tension gets too unbearable for you in the car. wc : 4.5k a/n : i got a req for this a few days ago but i think i deleted it or something i can’t find it now💔 but it was from an anon so thank you for this one because i loved writing this ALSO!! thank you to everyone who leaves feedback + little comments on my frank fics i notice it happens more when i write for frank and it’s the absolute sweetest

the air in the apartment felt heavy, charged, like a storm was brewing right there in the middle of the living room. frank was pacing now, his big hands flexing at his sides, his jaw tight enough that you swore you could hear his teeth grinding.  

you didn’t fight - not like this. not with him raising his voice and you trying so hard not to let yours crack. it wasn’t how things usually went. frank was tough, sure, rough around the edges in a way that didn’t really go away even when he was at his gentlest. but with you, he was softer. he made an effort to rein it in because he’d told you once, in a rare moment of vulnerability, that he didn’t want you to ever be scared of him. and you never had been.

but tonight, he was angry. angrier than you’d ever seen him at you, and the worst part was you weren’t sure how it had even escalated to this.  

“so what?” frank barked, spinning on his heel to face you, his broad frame taking up what felt like the entire room. “you think i’m just gonna sit back and let this slide?” his voice was sharp, cutting, and it made you flinch, even though you knew deep down that he’d never in a million years actually hurt you. “you think that’s who i am?”  

you held your ground, even though your heart was pounding against your ribs. “it’s not about letting it slide, frank,” you said softly, your tone calm, measured - a stark contrast to the heat in his voice. “it’s about not making it worse. escalating doesn’t fix anything.”  

“escalating?” he repeated, his voice rising, almost incredulous. “this isn’t escalating, this is handling it. you don’t just let people treat you like crap n’ walk away. you should know that’s not how it works.”  

“sometimes it is,” you said quietly, refusing to match his volume. “sometimes walking away is the only thing you can do. not everything has to be a fight.”  

“bullshit.” the word came out harsh, and the bite in it made your chest tighten. frank rarely swore at you, and when he did, it was never like this, never with this kind of edge.  

your hands trembled slightly, so you folded your arms across your chest, not in defiance but as a way to steady yourself. “frank, please. i don’t want to argue about this.”  

“yeah, well, maybe you should’ve thought about that before you went and tried to handle this on your own.” he threw his hands up, his frustration spilling over like a dam breaking. “you didn’t even tell me, and now i’m supposed to just sit back and be okay with it?”  

“i didn’t tell you because i knew this is how you’d react,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.  

his face twisted, a mixture of disbelief and something else - hurt, maybe. but it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by a hard, almost cold expression. “damn right this is how i’d react,” he shot back. “because i give a shit. because i don’t want you getting hurt or screwed over or whatever the hell else might happen if i’m not there to step in.”  

“i know you care,” you said, your voice still soft but firm. “but you can’t control everything, frank. sometimes things happen, and you just have to let them go.”  

he let out a sharp, bitter laugh, running a hand through his hair. “letting it go gets you hurt. letting it go gets you walked all over. i’m not gonna let that happen to you.”  

his words were loud, forceful, like he was trying to hammer them into your head, but they only made your throat tighten more. “i can handle myself,” you said, your voice shaking slightly despite your best efforts.  

“can you?” he snapped, and the doubt in his tone stung worse than any of the yelling.  

you flinched, your eyes dropping to the floor. “that’s not fair,” you whispered.  

“yeah, well, life’s not fair,” he shot back, his tone still razor-sharp.  

silence fell between you, heavy and suffocating. you could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill, but you refused to cry - not in front of him, not when he was like this, which he never had been before. you’d seen flashes of it occasionally, never once directed at you. so instead, you turned on your heel and walked out of the room, your steps quick but steady, your back straight even though every part of you felt like curling up into yourself.  

you didn’t look back, but you could feel his eyes on you as you left.  

the door clicked softly as you shut yourself in the bathroom, leaning back against the cool wood as you tried to pull in a steadying breath. it felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs back in the living room, and now the weight of it all was crashing down on you.  

you stared at the tiled floor, your arms wrapped around yourself like that might somehow hold you together. your chest felt tight, your eyes stinging with unshed tears, but you bit down hard on your bottom lip, refusing to let them fall. not yet, anyway.  

you weren’t used to this - not with frank. he could be sharp, blunt, even infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, but he was never cruel. not to you. in the years since you’d met him, since the whirlwind of your relationship had gone from cautiously circling each other to something real and steady, frank had always been your safe place. he was intense, sure, but his intensity had always felt protective, grounding, like you could lean on him no matter how bad things got.  

so why did it feel like he was the one knocking the ground out from under you now?  

you pressed the heels of your hands against your eyes, trying to will the tears away. it wasn’t fair to pin all the blame on him, you knew that. this argument wasn’t entirely about frank’s temper, or his need to protect you - it was about your own unwillingness to let him.  

the issue had started small, just a casual remark you’d made earlier in the week about someone you worked with - someone who’d been taking advantage of your kindness. you hadn’t thought much of it at the time, but frank had picked up on it immediately, and the more you’d tried to brush it off, the more his protective instincts had kicked in.  

at first, it had been sweet, his quiet grumbles about how people didn’t deserve to treat you that way, how you needed to stand up for yourself more. but somewhere along the line, it had turned into this - a full-blown argument where neither of you seemed to be able to see the other’s side.  

you weren’t blind to why he was upset. frank had been through more than most people could even imagine, and the idea of someone hurting you - or even disrespecting you - lit a fire in him that he couldn’t always control. but the way he handled that fire was what made your chest ache. it felt suffocating, like his need to protect you was overshadowing the fact that you didn’t want - or need - him to fight your battles for you.  

you let out a shaky breath, the first tear slipping free as the weight of it all settled heavier on your shoulders.  

frank had always been larger than life to you - not just physically, though his sheer size and strength made you feel small in comparison, but in the way he carried himself, the way he seemed to command every room he walked into. it was part of what had drawn you to him in the first place, the quiet confidence that bordered on intimidating until you saw the softness he tried so hard to hide.  

he’d always been gentle with you, even when his hands were so calloused and rough, even when his voice was so gravelly and low. it made the harshness of his words tonight cut deeper, the sharp edges of his anger something you weren’t used to being on the receiving end of.  

you wiped at your face quickly, straightening up as you tried to pull yourself together. you hated crying - especially over arguments like this. it made you feel weak, even though you knew it wasn’t, and the last thing you wanted was for frank to think he’d broken you. he’d never stop beating himself up over it.

still, you couldn’t bring yourself to go back out there yet. not with the way his words were still echoing in your mind, the frustration in his voice still ringing in your ears.  

you stayed there for a while, letting the quiet of the bathroom wrap around you like a blanket, giving yourself the space to breathe and feel without the weight of frank’s presence bearing down on you.  

meanwhile, in the living room, frank was pacing again. his hands were on his hips, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was deep in thought - or pissed off.  

he knew you were upset. hell, he wasn’t an idiot, and he’d seen the way your eyes were brimming with tears before you’d turned and walked away. it wasn’t the first time he’d pushed too hard, but it was the first time it had been directed at you, and it was eating at him in a way he didn’t want to admit.  

but the anger was still there, simmering just beneath the surface, and he couldn’t seem to let it go. it wasn’t directed at you - not at all. it was at the situation, at the asshole who’d made you feel like you had to handle everything on your own. but frank wasn’t exactly good at untangling those things, at separating his frustration from the people he cared about most.  

he scrubbed a hand over his face, letting out a low growl of frustration as he dropped onto the couch. his mind was running in circles, replaying the argument over and over again, each word sharper than the last.  

the silence in the apartment felt deafening, and for a moment, he considered going to find you, to try and talk this out. but he stopped himself, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to stay put. you needed space - he knew that much, even if it went against every instinct he had.  

he sat there for a long time, the tension in his body refusing to ease as he stared at the spot where you’d been standing just minutes before.  

the car keys sat on the counter, untouched, while the clock crept closer to the time you were supposed to leave. it had been a whole thing - this charity function a few towns over. someone important to frank had invited him, and even though it wasn’t the kind of event he’d normally go for, he’d said yes because it mattered to them.  

you had said yes because it mattered to him.  

but now, with the argument still heavy in the air, the thought of sitting next to him for almost four hours felt like trying to breathe underwater. the quiet that lingered between you wasn’t the natural kind you often enjoyed. it was thick and suffocating, and neither of you seemed ready to cut through it.  

you stood in the bedroom doorway, watching frank tie his boots like the act itself had wronged him. his movements were sharp, jerky, and his mouth was set in a grim line. you weren’t sure if it was guilt or frustration written in his expression, but either way, it left your stomach in knots.  

he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, yanking it on with a force that looked like it made the seams strain. his head turned slightly toward you as if he was about to say something, but then he thought better of it, his eyes dropping to the floor instead.  

you didn’t move, didn’t speak, just hovered in the doorway as he brushed past you toward the front door. the weight of it all - the argument, the way he hadn’t looked at you since - pressed down on your chest like a boulder, and your throat burned with more unshed tears.  

when he held the door open for you, you walked through it wordlessly, your gaze fixed on the floor.  

outside, the crisp night air felt sharper than it should have, like even the weather was conspiring to remind you how raw everything was. frank locked the door behind you without a word, and the sound of the lock clicking into place made you flinch.  

he didn’t notice.  

the car ride loomed ahead of you like a punishment, the thought of sitting in that confined space together for hours making your palms sweat. but there was no way out of it, not without causing more problems.  

frank climbed into the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles went white. he started the engine without looking at you, the low growl of it filling the space where words should’ve been.  

you slid into the passenger seat, keeping your hands in your lap and your gaze fixed on the window. the city lights blurred into streaks as the car picked up speed, but you weren’t paying attention to where you were going. your mind was stuck on everything that had been said - and everything that hadn’t.  

he’d been angry. louder than usual, harsher, the words tumbling out of him like he didn’t know how to stop them. but you knew frank. you knew the fire in him wasn’t because he didn’t care - it was because he cared too much, and it scared him sometimes.  

still, knowing that didn’t make it hurt any less.  

the silence in the car was unbearable, the kind that made you want to fill it just so you didn’t have to sit with the weight of it anymore. but frank wasn’t giving you an inch, his eyes glued to the road and his shoulders hunched up like he was trying to shield himself from the world.  

you stole a glance at him, your chest aching at the sight of his furrowed brow and clenched jaw. he looked tired - angry, yes, but tired too, like the argument had drained him in ways he didn’t want to admit.  

your own emotions were bubbling up, threatening to spill over no matter how hard you tried to keep them in check. your hands trembled slightly in your lap, and you clenched them into fists to try to stop it, but it didn’t help.  

you didn’t even realize you were crying until a tear slipped down your cheek, cool against your flushed skin. you brushed it away quickly, hoping frank wouldn’t notice, but you doubted he’d even glanced your way.  

the road stretched on, dark and empty except for the occasional glow of headlights from oncoming cars. the longer the silence dragged, the heavier it felt, like it was wrapping around your throat and making it hard to breathe.  

eventually, the ache in your chest grew too much to bear. you didn’t know what you wanted - comfort, maybe, or some kind of reassurance that everything would be okay - but the urge to reach out was overwhelming.  

your hand hovered hesitantly over the center console, your fingers trembling as you debated whether or not to do it. it felt like crossing some invisible line, like putting yourself out there in a way that left you completely vulnerable.  

but then you glanced at frank, at the way his brow furrowed and his jaw tightened, and something in you broke.  

with tears brimming in your eyes and a small, helpless pout tugging at your lips, you let your fingers reach up to grasp at his. the touch was so light it was barely there, but it was enough to draw his attention.  

he glanced down at your hand, his gaze softening instantly as he took in the way your fingers trembled and the sheen of tears in your eyes, the wet tracks of tears that’d already fallen etched on your face.

“ah, sweetheart,” he muttered, his voice rough but laced with a tenderness that made your heart ache.  

his hand moved to cover yours completely, his fingers curling around your smaller ones in a gesture that felt both protective and grounding. his thumb brushed over the back of your hand in slow, deliberate strokes, and the tension in your chest eased just a little.  

you sniffled, blinking quickly to clear your vision as you looked up at him. his expression had shifted, the hard lines of his face softening as he met your gaze.  

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.  

frank let out a heavy sigh, his grip on your hand tightening slightly as he pulled the car off to the side of the road. the tires crunched against the gravel as he put it in park, and before you could ask what he was doing, he was out of the car.  

your breath caught as he rounded the front of the vehicle, his movements deliberate but not rushed. he opened your door, the cool night air rushing in as he crouched slightly to meet your eyes.  

“c’mere,” he said softly, his tone a stark contrast to the anger that had been there earlier.  

you hesitated for only a moment before unbuckling your seatbelt and letting him pull you into his arms. his embrace was warm and solid, his arms wrapping around you in a way that made you feel small and safe all at once.  

“’m sorry, baby,” he murmured against your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “shouldn’t’ve yelled. shouldn’t’ve made you feel like that.”  

you buried your face in his chest, your own arms slipping around his middle as you let out a shaky breath. “i’m sorry too,” you whispered.  

“you don’t gotta be sorry, you did nothing wrong. my sweet girl’s just nice to everyone, isn’t she?” he cooed, his hand came up to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently against your temple as he peppered hard kisses over your face. “we’re okay?”  

you nodded against him, a small, shaky smile tugging at your lips. “we’re okay.”  

he pressed another kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment longer than before. but instead of pulling back completely, frank’s lips trailed down, brushing lightly against your temple, then your cheek.  

your breath hitched, your hand tightening around his shirt as he hesitated, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. when your eyes flicked up to meet his, there was something unspoken between you - an ache, a pull that neither of you could ignore.  

“frank…” your voice was barely a whisper, and it only made him lean in closer.  

his hand moved to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his lips finally found yours. the kiss was slow at first, soft and careful, but there was a heat behind it, a depth that made your stomach twist in the best way.  

he kissed you like he needed you, like he couldn’t get close enough no matter how tightly he held you. his other hand slid to your waist, pulling you against him just enough to make you feel the strength behind every touch, every movement.  

when he pulled back, it was with a low, rumbling breath, his forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady himself. “you’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice rough and tinged with something deeper.  

your cheeks flushed, your heart racing as you tried to find the words, but all you could do was nod, your fingers still gripping the front of his shirt.  

he pressed one last, lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth before stepping back. “c’mon,” he said, his tone softer now, his thumb brushing your cheek one last time before helping you back into the car.  

as he slid into the driver’s seat, his hand found yours again, holding on tightly. this time, neither of you let go.  

the rest of the drive was quiet, but not in the same way as before. frank kept one hand on the wheel, the other holding yours firmly in his grasp. his thumb moved in slow, lazy circles over your knuckles, a silent apology with every stroke.  

you felt the tension melting bit by bit, your chest no longer tight with the weight of everything left unsaid. instead, there was this warmth - a softness between you that hadn’t been there earlier. it was unspoken, but it was enough to ease the ache in your heart.  

“we’ll stop soon, yeah?” frank broke the silence, his voice low and softer than usual. “get you somethin’ to eat.”  

your lips curved into a small smile, your first real one since the argument. “i’m okay,” you murmured. “we don’t have to stop.”  

“nah.” he glanced over at you, his eyes lingering for a second longer than they should’ve. “you didn’t eat much earlier. ain’t lettin’ you sit through this thing hungry.”  

the tenderness in his voice made your cheeks heat, and you squeezed his hand lightly in response.  

it wasn’t long before frank pulled off at a small diner on the side of the road. the neon sign flickered against the night sky, casting a warm glow over the parking lot.  

“c’mon,” he said, cutting the engine and stepping out.  

before you could even reach for the door handle, frank was already there, pulling it open for you. his hand was outstretched, waiting for yours, and when you slipped your fingers into his, he gave them a gentle squeeze.  

inside, the diner was quiet, the hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filling the space. frank led you to a booth in the corner, his hand never leaving yours until you slid into your seat.  

“what’re you in the mood for?” he asked, his eyes scanning the menu even though you both knew he’d end up ordering the same thing he always did.  

you shrugged, your fingers playing with the edge of the napkin in front of you. “maybe just some fries.”  

frank frowned, lowering the menu to look at you. “you need more than that.”  

“frank, i’m fine - ”  

“i’ll get you somethin’ else too,” he cut in, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

you bit back a smile, knowing better than to push him when he got like this. instead, you let him order for both of you, his gruff voice somehow softer when he spoke to the waitress.  

when the food arrived, frank nudged the plate closer to you, his eyes narrowing slightly when you hesitated. “eat, sweetheart,” he said gently.  

you rolled your eyes but grabbed a fry anyway, earning a satisfied grunt from him.  

as you ate, the tension from earlier felt like a distant memory. frank had a way of grounding you, of making you feel like no matter how bad things got, everything would eventually be okay.  

after the meal, frank walked you back to the car, his hand settling on the small of your back as he guided you outside. the night air was crisp, but his touch was warm, steady, and it made you lean into him just a little.  

“y’alright?” he asked once you were back in the passenger seat.  

you nodded, looking up at him with a soft smile. “yeah. i’m okay.”  

his eyes lingered on yours for a moment, and then, without a word, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead. it was quick but tender, and when he pulled back, his hand cupped your cheek for a second longer.  

the drive to the function was quieter this time, but it wasn’t the heavy silence from before. it was comfortable, the kind of quiet where words weren’t necessary because you both knew everything was okay now.  

as you pulled up to the venue, frank cut the engine and turned to you. his expression was softer, his usual rough edges smoothed out in a way that made your heart ache.  

“you look beautiful,” he said, his voice gruff but sincere.  

your cheeks flushed at the compliment, and you glanced down at your dress, suddenly feeling shy. “thank you,” you murmured.  

he leaned over, his large hand settling on your knee as he pressed a quick kiss to your temple. “‘m gonna keep tellin’ you that all night,” he added, his lips quirking into the faintest of smirks.  

the warmth in your chest grew, and you couldn’t help but smile back at him. “you don’t look so bad yourself,” you teased, your tone light.  

he chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, and you swore it was the best thing you’d heard all day.  

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he said, opening his door. “let’s get this over with.”  

as you stepped out of the car, frank was already by your side, his hand finding yours once more. he held it tightly, his grip firm and reassuring, and when he glanced down at you, there was something in his eyes that made your breath catch.  

it was love - raw and unfiltered, the kind that didn’t need words to be understood.  

and in that moment, you knew that no matter what, you and frank would always find your way back to each other.  

ᰔ frank castle : @stvr-dust, @uncertified-doc

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[girl-lostconnection]

Acceleration AU (part 1)

Warnings: plus size!fem!Reader, hints of pressure therapy, insecurities, swearing, Reader has abusive mom, mentions of abuse, Reader and Simon won’t talk to save their lives, only mention of Soap in this chapter

It’s supposed to be just another Christmas when everything changes.

You are not the biggest fan of changes, they rarely bring you (or Simon for that matter) something to be really happy about.

Therapist tells you it’s a defence mechanism, your need to feel that everything is the same otherwise it’s unpredictable, it’s out of your control and you don’t know what’s going to happen.

You don’t like not knowing things.

Makes you antsy, makes anxiety coil in your belly like rose bush, just growing and growing until thorns have no other place to dig in but your insides.

Simon doesn’t judge you for that, not when he has a slight (though how much is slight in terms of mental health) paranoia, possessive streak and need to oversee every bloody process or he starts vibrating with tension.

Simon grows up to be a bloody behemoth of a man — huge, broad and heavy. Bicep the size of your head. Midriff too thick to wrap both hands around it.

You shoot up in couple sizes as well, still broad shouldered, hips wider, thighs thicker, palms smaller than Simon’s but pack the same heavy smack he has.

Comes with the territory, in a way.

Can’t be defenceless in a city like Manchester when nightlife is never kind to a girl and strangers are all too eager to take advantage of a lonely bird on her way home.

Simon rumbles that you are “bloody perfect”, dropping his blond head in your lap on a usual movie night or laying on top of you without the fear of crushing under his weight.

Your hands around him comforting presence — softer underside of biceps cushioning against his shoulder blades.

“Bloody bliss. ‘m snug like a bug in a rug”, he mumbles, eyes closed and whole body limp — melting into yours, soaking up all the warmth and affection you so freely give.

“Am I a rug?”, you chuckle, eyes half lidded and soft, knuckles rubbing the tender point between his shoulder blades. Scratching him like he’s a big dog.

Simon reminds you of classical breeds of guard dogs people in rural areas use to protect their livestock and homes. Great Pyrenees, you think they are called.

Big, heavy, entirely unbothered by anything but the task at hand and very much blond — hair curling from moisture in the air and hot mist of the shower.

“You’r a blessing, luv”, Simon finally hums out, half way asleep, nose nudging your jaw up so he can properly nuzzle in your neck, your scent comforting him in a way he’s not sure he can explain. “ ‘m gonna sleep. Too tired. You’r okay?”

You hum, palm splaying over his back, just pressing it there so he can feel it, warm presence of it tearing out a satisfied “mm” from Simon.

It’s a routine at this point, something something regulation for him and you. You swap on regular basis, because sometimes you just need to be close to him and he needs someone’s weight to press him in the couch, enveloping him.

Not easy to be Simon’s personal blanket or a big spoon but you proud yourself on doing a pretty good job. The best one if you are to believe Simon himself.

You hum in return to his sound, your own hum soothing a scratching beast inside of Ghost’s head, mutt finally laying it’s big head on front paws and closing it’s eyes. Sometimes Simon wonders how’s so you are able to do just that.

When he can’t.

Maybe that’s what changed somewhere along the way. Maybe he just doesn’t need you as much anymore.

A traitorous childish part of you sometimes thinks that a lot of things were easier when you two were kids.

Both you and Simon — wide-eyed and yet unscarred, biggest scrapes on your bodies from face planting on the pavement after wearing sandals on the wrong legs.

It’s part you never share with Simon because it isn’t fair. Because the older you became the worse things at home were. The screaming, the pain, the bruises and tears. It was bad.

For Simon at times much worse than for you.

At least your mom was careful enough not to leave scars

You can’t miss something that signified hurt and helplessness for him, just because it was easier back then.

You can’t but part of you does.

You were inseparable once, teachers always knew that wherever one of you is they’d find another one.

Joined at the hip, glued to each other’s side, sharing silences and lunches and books and first kisses and secrets.

Time that now feels like honeyed berry of a memory — sugary sweet and popping with colour under your eyelids.

When did it change?

You know that it’s natural for people to grow up and part ways but you and Simon were always together. At home, at school, on weekends and holidays.

You left together after graduation, working odd jobs to pay for a tiny apartment with only one bed but really nice bathroom.

Simon shrugs and plops himself on the mattress saying that it’s not gonna be the first time you’ll be sleeping together. Why waste money you don’t have on a thing you don’t really need?

Simon says that if it gets too uncomfortable you’ll save up and by a second one, though it is very unclear where would you even put it. But it’s not uncomfortable and it becomes a new norm for you.

You were always together, intertwined tighter than any friends, closer than family, more long lasting than any relationships.

At times it felt like you two outgrew categories, but then you’d meet people and whilst introducing each other would need to choke out “my friend”.

How do you even tell people that this man is more than friend and more than boyfriend ever been for you?

How do you convey that Simon is family in the same way life long partners are?

How do you explain that Simon is the moon of your skies, that his presence and dark eyes and soft blond lashes and wild crooked grins have effect on you that no one else really has?

You never discussed your relationship, perhaps there simply was no need at the time. Both of you content to be the only permanent people in each other’s lives — the strongest connection. Each other’s priority.

Up until this Christmas.

Up until you get the cryptic “do you wanna celebrate not at home this year?” that makes your brows furrow.

It’s 2 weeks before holidays are going to start, you are wearing Simon’s black sweater and jeans, puff jacket hooked on the crook of your elbow, pressed to your side.

Which now feels like it wasn’t the idea because it’s too hot, the mall is crowded and it’s warm in a way December in Manchester never is supposed to be.

You blame it on people and global warming, while manoeuvring your way to the food court, buying yourself whatever cold soda they have because fucking hell, why is it so hot in here.

Your bags are getting plopped on the seat right next to yours when you stretch out your legs, thick winter boots feeling heavier than usually.

What can he mean by that? You two always celebrated Christmases and a birthdays at home. Together.

This way it was less people, less potential triggers and grounds for overstimulation for both of you.

God knows you can’t handle screaming, crowds making you nervous and too hot and Simon coils into tight wound spring when he hears balloons pop or feels people graze against him.

A quick noncommittal “why” is all Simon gets in return.

Just so you receive back “been invited to Glasgow to celebrate. Think you can make it?” and oh wow, someone’s making friends out there.

Simon doesn’t give you any additional information and doesn’t provide any further context probably deciding that there’s nothing more you need to know.

You take a deep breath, staring down the message, fingers drumming against tabletop — sharp tap-tap-tap doing nothing to soothe your climbing agitation.

Why all of a sudden he wants to celebrate it someplace else when you two already have perfectly decorated apartment?

Jesus Christ, you are out here gift shopping!

It takes you entirely three long minutes of typing and deleting the message before you finally send “don’t think I can. But u have fun”.

Your phone pings with a new incoming message so quickly it almost feels like Simon is sitting on the other end, staring down your chat with him, waiting for a response.

“Are u sure, luv? Soap says it will be fun. His family will be there. They are nice”

Fuck no. You don’t do family gatherings. Especially not with strangers and from what you thought you knew — neither does Simon. Too many people that try to touch you, too many sounds, just too warm.

But your eyes zero on the “Soap” and you feel something ugly inside of you raising its head, crack of its vertebras feeling like uncoiling blizzard inside of you.

Who is “Soap” and why is he standing between your usual Christmas plans with Simon?

You force your anger down so hard it almost makes you wince, molars aching from how tight your jaws are.

It’s fine. It’s nothing. Simon doesn’t owe you anything, you aren’t a couple after all. Not like you spent the last shit ton of Christmases together.

Not like it was important for you to have it done with him of all people.

So you type out short “absolutely. Yk I don’t like crowds. Have fun out there and pass Soap “merry Christmas” from me” which is much longer and much more cordial than you expected from yourself in the heat of a moment.

Especially when the most prominent thought was “tell Soap to go fuck himself and come home, you big bastard, I spent three hours in the bloody mall”.

Good job, now you can get going. After all, there is shopping to be done and Christmas menu to be redone.

If Simon is not coming you are gonna gorge yourself on ginger cookies and have fun.

You are a big girl, you don’t need Simon Riley and his stupid blond lashes.

You don’t need anyone.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

hey! wanted to say i appreciate you talking about how malleus doesn’t appeal to you :,) he doesn’t quite appeal go me either, but i couldn’t find anyone that didn’t either hate or love him, both sides often mischaracterizing him. i felt like i was going mad. but you put my feelings about him into words in a really eloquent and well thought out way, so, yea! thanks for saying your honest opinions on the internet haha

[Please check my pinned post’s FAQ section if you’d like to read about why I personally dislike Malleus!]

Thank you!! It’s not often that you get gratitude for being critical of a character (as opposed to, like, outright praising them) so this ask genuinely took me by surprise.

I find that Malleus is one of those characters that’s quite difficult to talk about. Because he’s so well-liked by English-speaking fans (fandom-run polls consistently show that he is liked by at least 50% of responders), his presence has become almost stifling… which formed a counterculture (ie hate) against him. In any case, whether you think negatively or positively of Malleus (or feel nothing at all for him), that can really color how his words and actions are perceived. But sometimes it feels like you can’t even talk about him without walking on eggshells. People tend to feel so strongly about Malleus and you never know how they’ll react to the thoughts you express.

It should be recognized that both extremes will blindside you. The most ardent Malleus lovers will make everything about him or enable and defend him to the bitter end even when Malleus has done reprehensible things. The most passionate Malleus haters will nitpick what are just normal or innocent actions as The Worst Possible Thing Ever or claim he’s aggressive all the time. Neither truly compasses who he actually is.

As I’ve mentioned in other posts, I’d like to think that even though I dislike the guy, I try and give him a fair shot 😅 Some of the issues I have with him are no fault of his own and result from the narrative’s failure to capitalize on his intrigue or the nature of gacha games and the main story being limited. Other issues I’ll admit are completely my own annoyances and gripes (like how I take issue with OP characters with few setbacks, how I don’t like characters that try to force their views onto others, or how I have had bad Malleus-related fandom experiences). Then there’s just the objective truths, like how Malleus is extremely arrogant but is rarely called out for it or rarely faces consequences for his actions in-universe (or from the fandom). He’s still a complex character, just… not one I enjoy.

Looking back on it 💦 I almost can’t believe I have like… 8 or 9 posts detailing my frustrations with Malleus, and each of them expressing significantly different issues from the last. I’m glad that this blog can be a space for me to discuss my thoughts and opinions without angry fans of X or Y character coming at me 😭 I unfortunately can’t say that this is always the case… But for the most part, it’s pretty peaceful here and I really appreciate that!

I’ll close this post off by shouting out the Malleus fans who don’t take it personally when someone else says they’re not a fan of their blorbo. The Malleus fans who are willing to come to the table and listen, the Malleus fans who acknowledge his imperfections and faults, the Malleus fans who accept that others can choose to dislike him for any reason, whether big or small, and don’t push for “correcting” the “wrong” opinion. I know that it sounds like such a low bar to clear, but trust me when I say I’ve witnessed and experienced much worse behaviors (from a loud minority of Malleus fans) and would not wish that upon anyone.

[somerandomcockroach]

Honestly decepticon prowl

I see his brain going 'if you can be ten steps ahead, why not be at LEAST twenty steps ahead?' to himself. In a mirror.

Barricade however seems rather clueless, not listening to certain things, communications officer with soundwave, barricade is the one to send in if someone HAS to be captured, he can endure a lot of mind games and trickery and has been known to come out with information instead of whatever falsities that he gave the autobots.

Prowl is smart, rarely seen, immoral, a walking grey line that somehow got on the decepticons side (?) however they aren't sure if he is, don't know where he is to get the upper hand of it to make sure he is.

Prowl knows enough about both sides he could stall the entire war, one side gets an advantage then the other gets lucky, and if a side pisses prowl off? They start losing for a little while, not enough to make a difference, but it happens.

The autobots... kind of know barricade, all of them know the tricky decepticon, except Red Alert, who knows barricade as a traitor. Why red alert? Because it's hard for anyone how knows him to question if he's serious or not. (Kill me I love idw version of red alert)

Anyway prowl being powerful yes... but in the mind way, Shockwave hates him.. only because Prowl throws a wrench in shockwaves backup plans, somehow, someway 'barricade' is curious and is known as a bad shot, he wanders, he is known to be an olay conversation, a little boring, but barricade is okay in everyone's book but shockwave..

Okay i gotta stop there, sorry to ramble... Imma go to my snacc collection now, hope you liked the ideas! 🍬

OH OH OH okay ahah okay I, I might really like to hear any rambles about people's ideas and looks on decepticon Prowl so feel free to ramble ahah Mmm, I think in Prowl's case it isn't an exaggeration to say that he needs to count 100+ moves ahead You just made he realise that he might end up being a good liar in such sircumstances? Like I always think of him as a bad liar because his face acts unproportionally to what he says. But his face movements are so barely noticable that maybe only Jazz and Red Alert could notice them (I didn't see enough of Red Alert in idw, I need more info on him I see people loving him pfehge) Barricade being clueless because he is busy coming up with the new tactical strategies while still doing him job so he loses some things he is said to. Oh god yes you made me realise that he is also sent on interrogations to get out information, autobots could learn about Barricade from here, a chance of someone running away. OH, Prowl is some kind of mistery just like Jazz. Prowl death bringer and Jazz life bringer to neutrals. One works undercover with decepticons, other undercover with autobots to help the ones who mustn't be involved in their war. (There would have been so many facts and details that shouldn't be on the front page but ahah let it be) OH Prowl was working with Primes. He was leading operations. He was responsible for Megatron's case when he was a gladiator. He knows enough of autobots' inner info. There is just one misconception. He was a Prowl back then. I wonder how he can trick everyone to believe Prowl is dead (seems easy but he wasn't a low figure to cover it was easily) unless he just made sure everyone who was working with him fell down under Prime's fire. I wonder if he changes his painting

OH mmm yes his plans could always be on the way of Soundwave's backup plans. So far in idw I saw that 1) Shockwave sometimes acts on his own too without Megatron knowing because he looks at possibilities of the world changing from the war 2) Soundwave ending up randomly anywhere ahah Pffffffht, "What do you mean you pissed off Prowl and we lost 3 squadrons a joor ago?!?""

[floofanflurr]

Silly floofy silly floofy

Can you tell me about Sans + Paps + Frisky in the pirate au (raccoon me one) AND if you feel like it their relationship with their dear old crusty dad?

I need moooooore loooooore

Hehehehe

WOOHOO!! I SURE CAN!!!! Let's break this down :) (WARNING - THIS POST MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR A FUTURE FIC OF MINE. That will take a long time to write tho, if I ever do, so...)

Sans: The quartermaster of the Sail La Vie - the Captain's right hand man. He's a lazy, laid-back kind of dude, and not one you would expect to be a pirate. When the Sail La Vie is docked, you can find him at the local taverns and houses of ill repute... After all, people drop the most important information when they're comfortable, and Sans is great at making people underestimate him.

He frequently runs small time cons. Shell games, melon drops, weighted dice... Afterwards, he gives the money back, or buys his victim a drink with their own cash. It's a good way to build up a friendly reputation. They don't even realize they were conned.

Upon shore or ship, Sans naps in the strangest areas. Crates and rigging, roofs and the ship deck. Even on the mast itself.

Everyone knows that Sans is entirely devoted to his brother, the Captain of the Sail La Vie.

...Sans is also working as King Asgore's Royal Judge under the table.

Asgore and Sans have an agreement - Sans will work for him if he leaves his brother and his father alone despite their crimes and desertion. It's a tenacious situation that only they are aware of. On this note, Sans is required to ensure the ship never targets monster victims - humans and mages are their only marks.

Sometimes, Asgore points them to human navy ships, and Sans ensures they're taken care of. They aren't a military vessel... but yet, things are more complicated than one may think. They aren't free from the crown's control. But Sans ensures that his crew (and his brother) will never know that.

Sans is under orders to collect mage souls. And to never, ever leave one living after an encounter. Otherwise, it's his brother and father's skulls on the line.

Papyrus: The Great Captain of the Sail La Vie! He inherited the hat from his adoptive father, Dr. W.D. Gaster. Papyrus is a boisterous fellow who took a while to fall into piracy, despite his father's own occupation. For a large portion of his childhood, Papyrus wanted to join the Royal Navy in order to protect monsters from mages.

...He was in the room when his parents were killed by a water mage, after all. He may have only been three years old, but he can't forget. He's very glad that Sans didn't see it, and that he doesn't know the details.

Sans doesn't know Papyrus remembers, and Papyrus would very much like to keep it that way!

Sans doesn't know that Papyrus knows a lot of things.

...Well! Onto the next bit. Papyrus prefers mercy over death - when he can, he likes to target human ships and navy vessels and use fear tactics. He'll kill when he has to, but he'd really rather not. He and Sans mostly go after the ships that cause monsters the most grief.

And while Papyrus can't say he's comfortable around mages, Papyrus doesn't really want to kill them, either. He'd rather talk them down! But he'll kill when necessary.

...And Papyrus knows they'll end up dead, even if he spares them. He's thankful that there aren't many mages around - the magic increasingly rare.

Frisk: A water mage. Or, in other terms, a mer. Frisk struggles to control their magic, and is often stuck with a tail instead of legs. Which... is less than ideal, because it means they can't hide their heritage. And the crown doesn't like unregulated mages very much...

Frisk's mama always hid them away when she could, but Mama died years ago and the human navy found Frisk.

You can now find them aboard various navy vessels - kept in a tank or a tub and gawked at as they try to train Frisk up into a regulated mage to be used in their war. Thankfully, Frisk really isn't the best at control, and it means they don't have to fight just yet.

Less good is that makes them little more than a pet or worse to the sailors on board.

Most humans really don't like mages.

Frisk's life is just them trying to survive and learn how to control their magic so they can run away as soon as possible. They really aren't expecting it when the screaming starts and fighting shakes the ship. Most of the time, the sailors try to direct battles to the other parties ship.

Frisk definitely isn't expecting the tall skeleton that bursts his way into the hold where Frisk is kept, or the way his face falls when he sees them.

Frisk has heard the tales of Captain Papyrus. He and his crew are a horror story for mages. A tall skeleton, the harbinger of death, adorned with blood reds.

Not a single mage has ever survived meeting the Sail La Vie or its Captain.

"...WELL. SHOOT."

Frisk can only agree.

Sans's relationship with Gaster: Sans loves the man. Enough to sell his pride and services to the crown to keep him safe. They bond over science, though Sans never got a chance to pursue it formally - life on the sea and Gaster's own reputation snatched away the possibility. But Sans has never forgotten what Gaster did for them when he took in two orphaned children and gave them a home, and so Sans can't bring himself to resent him too much for that.

Sans is constantly harping on Gaster to actually settle down for once. The old man is going to get himself killed if he keeps up his skirmishes. He needs to actually retire.

There are a few odd tensions between the two - Gaster's decision to fall into piracy still hanging over their heads. But ultimately, they love each other and get along quite well. Many puns are thrown around when they're together.

Papyrus's relationship with Gaster: The same as Sans, in most cases. He loves and respects his father! And admires his skill in protecting those he loves. He... disagrees with some of his more brutal tactics and policies, but Sans employs those same methods, so Papyrus can't really complain.

Papyrus was thrilled when Gaster trusted him enough to pass Captain-hood down to him.

Papyrus would do nearly anything to keep the man safe. ...Which is why Papyrus hasn't called Sans out on a few noteworthy things.

AAAND there we have my ramble!!! FEEL FREE TO ASK MORE QUESTIONS I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY AUS AND WORKS. Ah, yes, and for anyone that read this far and wants to read more... Here. A fic about what Gaster is up to while Sans and Papyrus are busy finding mermaid children.

[starrycometmoth]

GOOD MORNING @that-seems-stupid-lets-do-it !! HERE COMES MORE LUMI RAMBLES AND HOPEFULLY MY BRAIN WON'T RANDOMLY DIE THIS TIME!!

So I wanna talk more about them in Nightcord cuz I feel like I focus too much on their sibling dynamic with the Hinomoris whenever I ramble about them, oopsie. Also (I'm writing this sentence after I finished writing everything else) tw, I got into a lot of dark topics cuz Lumi has a dark backstory and such.

So, Lumi isn't very confident in their singing voice and feels their only good contributions to N25 is managing the social media pages. The others don't agree, which is why eventually they started easing them into letting them sing sometimes!! Kanade told them that they don't have to always sing, that they can do it when they're comfortable, but also that she thinks Lumi's voice is sweet and pretty. This makes Lumi very happy and they try their best to sing more often.

When Lumi initially joined, the group jokingly called them the group's "girlfriend" or "boyfriend," which both flustered Lumi and made them feel honored. They were always making sure everyone was feeling okay, letting them vent to them, making sure they were eating, drinking water, and resting (despite being horrible with doing all of this self-care for themself).

However, for one person, the girlfriend/boyfriend joke was not much of a joke after several months... No one knows how, but Lumi and Mizuki became a thing at some point. All they know is that Lumi told them the day after it happened and of course everyone was shocked, except Mafuyu saw it coming from a mile away with his sixth sense or something idk. It was probably very obvious that they had feelings for eachother whenever they'd do their irl meetups, because Lumi was always the chattiest with Mizuki, and they'd always hold hands with each other or snuggle in the booth in the diner, insisting on sitting together all the time.

Also, I've had this scenario in my head on how a Nightcord sleepover would go with Lumi being a part of the group, and the entire time they're just cuddling eachother. That's it. That's the sleepover. (Lumi was originally intended to be a polycord insert rather than just MizuLumi, but I got a random Mizuki hyperfixation one day and from there MizuLumi was born. Now, they're pretty much in a qpr with the rest of N25.)

ONG I NEVER SHARED THE COOLEST THING ABOUT THEM IN NIGHTCORD.

So, everyone has their usernames that they go by to keep themselves anonymous or whatever... Lumi's is Lumi*neon. Yes, it's a pokemon reference. Is it their favorite pokemon? No. But is it in their top 10? Absolutely. C'mon, Lumineon almost shares a name with them!! Am I the only weirdo who thinks it's really cool when something in a piece of media shares a name with me?? Yes, even my deadname (which has not happened, considering I have a rare spelling, but I've had several close calls).

Ofc every Nightcord member has their reasons for wanting to disappear, and Lumi is no exception (is it really an OC if you don't traumatize and torture them?). I mentioned in the last ramble that they have trauma. It was from their birth family. They did not have a very happy life with their old family that they were born with in America. I'm not going into details, but just picture what you'd imagine a not so happy family looking like. They eventually got put into an orphanage and I have no idea how, but the Hinomoris got them and helped them recover a bit, but Lumi still wants to disappear. They feel they can't be loved, and they're slowly learning to accept that they are loved; by their family, by their friends, by their girlfriend. People love them.

Initially, they weren't sure what they were going to do when they were older, kind of similar to Mafuyu in a sense except because they were discouraged from their old dreams, they wanna divulge completely away from them and into something more "successful" (as music and art were once their passions). Eventually, probably if I were to make a version of them that ages up when the rest of the cast does during the third anniversary, they'd figure out that they want to be a teacher. Of course, that means they can't be a part of N25 anymore. Working late at night and barely sleeping before you have to wake up early to go to school? They couldn't ever manage that. They're planning on being in Nightcord until they graduate college, however, no one in the group knows that, not even Mizuki. Lumi is too scared to tell the others their dream because they don't want to be separated from the others.

I think that's basically all of their Nightcord stuff, but I do have more about them and what they were like when they first came to Japan, just cuz I find it really interesting how different they were from their current self!!

So, they were traumatized. They came to a brand new country with a language they'd never spoken before and new people to call their family. They felt like such an outcast. They were quiet, like very quiet. They didn't speak unless it was necessary. They were always scared to do things without asking first, even things such as getting a s acl or using the restroom. They flinched when people went near them and would often just isolate themselves in their room and do nothing except get wrapped in their own head.

Of course the rest of the Hinomori family worried about them, especially Shizuku and Shiho. Shizuku was definitely more visible with her worry, as she was always trying to help Lumi through it, though it was a bit overwhelming for Lumi, and Shiho knew that. That was why Shiho kept her worry to herself. She knew that Lumi didn't need someone immediately jumping on them in order to help fix them, that it was going to take time.

With Shizuku's constant worry and care, Lumi did slightly warm up to her first, as they couldn't tell that Shiho was silently worried for them too. In fact, Lumi was somehow convinced that Shiho hated them, and Shizuku would reassure them several times that she didn't. She knew Shiho was just as worried as she was.

Shizuku uses her sister magic and after over a year Lumi is now the clingiest sibling you could ever imagine, as in they were affectionate. Shiho pretends to hate it, but secretly she's happy for Lumi being able to touch people now (even at the cost of her own sanity KSKAA). Lumi's favorite people for sure are their big sisters.

They have issues with overthinking and nightmares at night, so they can't even sleep by themself. They've gotta be with Shizuku or Shiho.

Also, the language barrier; did Lumi ever learn how to speak Japanese? Nope. They've picked up a few words and phrases, but for the most part it's actually really hard for them to learn, even with Japanese speakers in the house. So, Lumi speaks English for the most part. Shizuku and Shiho know a good bit of English, thanks to them needing it as celebrities if they wanna go around the world, and will usually speak to Lumi in English. They help translate stuff if Lumi needs it, as Lumi does NOT trust translation apps.

Random facts about them!!

No one knows their gender, they're agender AFAB and bind, but people genuinely cannot tell. If I remember right, awhile back I was explaining concepts for N25 trust ranks with a friend of mine and Lumi and Mizuki's first one was something like "Gender? Girlboss." Because people love calling both Lumi and Mizuki girlbosses, when in canon their genders are both hard for the public to tell, so tis their gender now /silly

They dislike marshmallows. They have a fear of them, specifically raw ones. Dried or cooked are fine, but marshmallows straight out of the bag? That's a NIGHTMARE. If they want to touch a raw marshmallow, they will literally pull out gloves. They think that marshmallows are unnatural and weird, despite knowing they're only made of sugar and gelatin. They're a little paranoid about marshmallows (just like me frfr)

Okay, so the way I talked about MizuLumi kinda made it sound like that's the canon ship for this universe, but tbh it's not. Platonic polycord (with Lumi) is most certainly the canon here, however I've completely divulged from it being the main ship. I'm a multishipper, and naturally I've made up scenarios with other possible characters in my head (by "possible," I mean people who they're most likely to interact with in their canon). If I had to choose a non-N25 ship for Lumi, I'd have to say HaruLumi. It was something I thought of one day while going insane from overworking myself. Lumi would most certainly overwork themselves, I thought to myself. I suddenly thought of Haruka, the queen that he is, and suddenly HaruLumi was born in my head. They take care of eachother when they push themselves too far <3 (I also just really like the dynamic of Lumi being the pathetic non-celebrity and being like "Omg Haruka could've chosen anyone to date and he chose ME??" FJDJWKQ THEY'RE SO PATHETIC JFKSKWA /vpos)

Honorable mention to Saki x Lumi (I didn't think SakiLumi sounded cool so I just said that KDKSKS). Platonic or romantic. They're silly. They probably cuddle with 50000 plushies and then one of them will pick up one and kiss the other on the cheek with it, and then they'll go back and fourth with this for the next hour because they're silly.

Also honorable mention to MinoLumi. I have no dynamic for them in my head, so that's it. That's the ship.

I'M GOING TO GIVE YOU PHOTOS OF THEIR DESIGN BEFORE I FINISH MY RAMBLES HERE!!

you guys should tell me about your ocs. spare no detail i want to see it. i will not be annoyed with you tell me everything. im a newborn baby lamb i know nothing explain all of it and all of them to me. even if i dont know you

[anna-scribbles]

h-how do you ever finish any of your work? genuine question because you seem to be productive despite your agreste syndrome and I need to learn your ways. but also how do you ever finish any of your work

unclear. last night i stayed up and finished a report worth 25% of my grade at about 5am, arrived on time for my 9am lecture, and spent about half of it zoned out while thinking about seventeen year old emilie agreste. and i was one of the most active participants in the class discussion

[meownotgood]

a lot of the time and I mean like once per week I somewhat wish that I wrote ship fics like a normal person instead of x reader. the problem is. I am not normal

[icewindandboringhorror]

I've referenced before how I have a big google document to keep track of every media I've ever seen in my entire life (just for reference because I like to track everything possible lol… I am the Data Collector), but recently as I was updating it, I thought of actually evaluating them to find out random percentages (like for example, out of Total Shows Watched, what percentage did I finish vs. stop watching, what percentage did I like or dislike, etc.)...

Evaluating these things is made easier by the fact that I already place everything on each subsection of the list into 6 broad ranking categories, so I don't have to go back and guess to figure out how I feel about them or anything. The categories are: Ranking 5 - overall best* (despite some criticisms of course because I'm too much of an Analyzer to ever find anything Perfect lol) Ranking 4 - more positive than neutral, but not good enough to be 5 Ranking 3 - either the good + bad negate each other, OR it's just not memorable/interesting in any way enough to be ranked higher or lower (this is the Default category ALL things are placed in if no other rank applies) Ranking 2 - maybe a few redeemable elements but largely more negatives than positives Ranking 1 - So bad that it circles around to being fascinating to observe in some way (not necessarily Funny, or Good, but just interesting somehow) Ranking 0 - Bad in a genuinely frustrating or obnoxious manner

*("best" primarily defined here as most interesting, rather than most good in a technical sense, or some other measure. I tend to value more highly whether there's something novel or thoughtful about the worldbuilding, tone, writing, base premise, etc - than about whether it's actually executed perfectly.)

And here's the amount of shows that have so far been placed into each category -

TV shows ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 20 shows ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 28 shows ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 114 shows ~ Rank 2 (mid low) -33 shows ~ Rank 1 (low low but intriguingly so) - 14 shows ~ Rank 0 (iredeemably low) - 2 shows

This would make for a total of 211 TV shows overall. However, there are 57 shows within these list marked as "didn't finish" (typically meaning I quit on the very first or second episode - but log them still to keep a record that I at least had a brief view of them).

So my total of genuinely fully watched shows would be more 154. 211 Total, but a More Accurate Total of 154.

Counting them all and using the Total Number Of The List (211) -- that means roughly 9.5% of all total shows I have ever watched (or at least attempted to watch) have been Mostly Good, 13% have been Moderately Okay, 54% have been either entirely Forgettable or some mix of good + bad that lands them right in the Neutral Middle, 15.6% have been Mostly Bad, 6.6% have been Bad (but in an interesting way), and 0.9% have been Terribly Bad.

Additionally, I didn't even get past the first two episodes of about 27% of the total.

Sooo, discounting ones I didn't finish, my total TV shows ever watched in my life would be about 154 (maybe give or take a few, assuming I might have forgotten some from very long ago).

But instead of entire life, let's just say this is the total for 'About 20 Years' (so, not counting very early childhood when I likely wouldn't remember things I saw/have no detailed recollection of them (like for example, I'm sure at some point when I was like 4yrs old I must have seen an episode of Spongebob or something, but I have zero distinct memories of it, can't quote anything of it, and barely recall the premise - so I don't count it on the list, etc.)).

In that case, 154 divided by 20 would be roughly 7.7 shows a year.

Which is actually surprisingly low considering that I often have stuff on in the background for hours whilst I make sculptures and do costumes and stuff (maybe I should have also marked some distinction between 'things I fully paid attention to' and 'things I kind of half listened to whilst sculpting', but that would further split the categories too much probably lol), but I guess a lot of that is youtube videos or random documentaries, so .. eh.. maybe I get it being lower.

Now, doing the same thing for movies-

Movies ~ Rank 5 (highest) - 4 movies (3.4% of total) ~ Rank 4 (mid-high) - 12 movies (10.3% of total) ~ Rank 3 (neutral/default/meh) - 91 movies (78.4% of total) ~ Rank 2 (mid low) - 8 movies (6.8% of total) ~ Rank 1 (low but interesting) - 1 movie (0.8% of total) ~ Rank 0 (irredeemably low) - none in this category (0%)

That makes 116 for a Total (Actually Remembered) Movies Watched In Lifetime (Or At Least In 20 Years).

116 divided by 20 is roughly 5 or 6 movies a year (I feel this has probably been skewed though by adding everything since like elementary school onwards, as I remember a lot more movies from child/teen years.. Whereas, the past 3 years I feel like I've barely seen maybe even 5 movies?? lol). I also have "Didn't Finish" marked on 18 of them. Which means I quit halfway through about 15% of the total movies.

So, a for broader summary stuff..

I seem to be less forgiving to movies than tv shows, by far. Which makes sense to me, I guess, because I love elaboration and details, so "short form" things that only last an hour or two are often lost on me a bit. My biggest complaint with movies is indeed usually walking away just wishing there had been more exposition, more scenes where characters are doing nothing, more "mindless bantering" conversations, more Quiet Downtime and Lore Elaboration and so on lol, so... of course most 1-2hr films end up feeling a bit Not Enough To Draw My Interest/Nothingy to me.

If you count 5 and 4 as "like" and rankings 2 to 0 as "dislike", then for TV shows I at least somewhat liked 48 of them, and at least somewhat disliked 47 of them.. So it's almost exactly the same lol. I'm just about equally as likely to find something bad as I am to find something redeeming about it. But overall, the largest chance is that I just won't really care much for it at all and it will be tossed into the 'neutral' pile, forgotten forever. Movies have a bit better of a balance, "liking" 16 of them, and "disliking" only 9 of them. So I'm slightly more likely to enjoy a movie than to find it annoying - though still VASTLY more likely to just not find it anything in particular, possibly not even finishing it.

ANYWAY.. this is vague and literally pointless, but like I said, I just really find information fun. Like my document where I've rated every apple flavor I've ever tried (like 40 of them now?), or reviewed every oreo flavor (32?), or ranking data from my entire 10 years of Trying To Make Friends process (out of 100 people, roughly 8% chance of a moderate compatibility, 3% chance of high), or etc. etc.. I love to have random pointless things to analyze I suppose lol.

I doubt anyone tracks things in their life in this same exact way, but I'd be interested in hearing any at least somewhat similar data !!! (like, how many TV shows you watch a year on average, and what percentage of those you like vs. dislike (if you keep track of that sort of thing), etc.)). I guess it might be easier with movies, since I think some people use those websites where you curate a list of movies you've seen and you can rate them or something, so maybe the numbers are already available on those places. :0

[barksbog]

Do I remember correctly that you were thinking between borzoi and smooth collie or was it someone else? If it was you, any particular reason why you chose collie? Asking bc im myself considering between those two, I have experience with shelties and really like herding dogs even tho they can be worlds most sensitive babies sometimes

I can't remember if i publicly posted about it but i definitely did consider borzois!

herding dogs are great and i'm definitely very biased towards them. i love those weirdos and all their chaos.

-

the reason i ended up going for a smooth collie is mostly prey drive. Borzois are proper sight hounds and will run after fast animals and bite to kill if they can reach them. which is what they were bred for and definitely doesn't make them bad dogs!

herding dogs have a modified prey drive that makes them stalk animals around and ideally have strong restraint on lunging and biting.

i know a lot of sight hounds are very chill with cats but i just felt more comfortable going with a herder. He does annoy his tiny older siblings a lot by herding them around the house when he thinks they need to be somewhere else and is a bit rough and clumsy in his play attempts but it's all manageable.

i also live quite rural with a lot of game like hares, deer and pheasants out and about around the house and have neighbours with free roaming ducks, chicken and turkeys. so having a dog with a low prey drive is honestly just a lot more comfortable overall.

that being said tho my trainer has the worlds daintiest little rough collie who has an insane prey and kill drive. so it's not a given they will just try to befriend every outdoor cat they see.

-

another point was size. smooth collies (especially males from US lines) can get quite big. Leon certainly is a good sized guy with almost 60cm shoulder height and 24kg!

borzois are A LOT larger.

i have a small car, bed and couch tbh. My mom is also struggling with physical health and already struggles with leon when he's a bit rowdy. i don't think she'd handle a dog that can get almost twice as heavy!

the accidental injury risk of my cats would have also been higher with a larger dog.

-

less a direct comparison thing but a big part of why i went with a collie in the end is that they are known to be kinda annoyingly clingy and oh god he is but so am i. having a weird little guy who doesn't get annoyed by it helps my mental health a lot.

i don't have experience with shelties and how they compare but generally you can expect smooth and rough collies to be a bit lower energy and more "stubborn"/independent than border collies if that helps.

[marietheran]

...So! There are at least two people on tumblr who hate me with absolute loathing 🙃

[bloggingboutburgers]

In my experience the people who tag the romantic stuff and are really accommodating for romance-repulsion have been other sex-repulsed aces (one gave me a personal blacklist tag and the other tags "ship" for every ship so I don't have to block them all and reach the limit for filtered tags yet again). But even some fellow aspecs make it hard to avoid the romance and sex discussions. There's been so many people I've followed for fandom and then been repulsed and some of them are mutuals and I have to spend ages contemplating unfollowing because I feel like I'm betraying them if we've interacted.

Sorry for venting so much. I'm glad that I get to feel seen here. I'm glad you're making me feel seen, but I wish we didn't have to have these experiences of fandom being so unaccommodating. I hope things get better. I was trying to share a positive experience to give some hope then it got a bit sad, oops

You're all good, to be honest right now I think I prefer a "no but look how good people can be to us... until they inevitably ain't" to a "no but look how good people can be to us" just left at that. Looking at things for what they really are is doing me good. You're valid for being sad. This shit IS sad.