#just don't have THAT be the reason for you disliking them

[zepskies]

HEADCANON: Man Flu

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader || Beau Arlen x Reader || Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader || Boaz Priestly x Reader

HC: When Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Boaz Priestly get sick, how would they act when you (try to) take care of them?

AN: After reading I Got You by @bettystonewell (Dean x Reader) and The Best Kind of Medicine by @lamentationsofalonelypotato (Soldier Boy x Reader), I realized that I've never actually written a sick-fic before. Here it is in headcanon form, since you guys seem to like these! lol 💜

Also adding Priestly to this lineup for the first time because some of you have been requesting more of him recently. 😉

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, hurt/comfort, sick-fic, some needy affection-starved men who don't want to admit they're needy, lots of fluff.~

Dean Winchester

He's not sick. Because he doesn't get sick.

Dean claims he has the constitution of a horse, but you still take the beer out of his hand before he can take a sip at 10:00 a.m.

He's too busy interrupting himself, namely by coughing half a lung, wheezing, blinking teary eyes -- the whole phlegmy nine yards.

Sam shakes his head, casting you a look that frankly says, Good luck.

He knows his brother is stubborn as hell, and one of the things Dean dislikes most is being fussed over for "no reason." Being seen as weak. Not being able to just shrug his shoulders and shake it off.

To be fair, Dean tries. Except this time it's accompanied by a body shiver and a reluctant sniffle. His pallid face is drawn, and his usually strong and solid frame looks unsteady as he leans a hand on the War Room table.

"Okay, come on, Rambo. Let's get you back into bed," you say, guiding your boyfriend back to the room you share with him.

"I'm find," he insists, even as he begrudgingly accepts the gentle pressure of your hand on his back and shoulder, pushing him down to the bed.

"Sure you are, baby," you say with a smirk. "You're in the primb of libe."

Dean shoots you a narrowed look. Damn you for forcing him to binge-watch all those episodes of Friends late at night when you both can't sleep.

Right now he's Monica, trying to convince you he's in tip-top shape, while you're Chandler, just trying to get him to use tissues instead of his flannel sleeve to wipe his runny nose.

After taking his boots off, you get him to change out of his jeans and back into his sweatpants. Then you manage to get him to lay down under the covers with the promise of coming back with medicine and soup.

"I don't want soup, damn it," he grumbles. You just roll your eyes and rub his arm.

"Just rest. I'll be back with the Vicks."

As you might expect, Dean is not an easy patient.

He refuses to drink tea, but he does down the pills you bring for him, with a measured toss of his head that still makes his head swim. He groans.

He swallows a couple of cautious spoonfuls of the soup, pausing when he realizes that its warmth actually feels good down his sore and scratchy throat. It tastes pretty good too, especially with the warm, buttered slices of bread on the side.

"You made this?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you nod, smiling. If nothing else, good food will pacify this man. "Chicken and wild rice, made especially for you."

"Hmm. S' good," he nods in reply. He manages to finish the bowl.

He has to admit, if just to himself, that he does feel like shit.

He won't admit that the way you're rubbing his back, the gentle pressure of your nails between his shoulders and down his spine relaxes him, makes him feel better.

He knows that you care about him. That you love him. But this is one of those moments where it hits him, just how much.

It's a little overwhelming. A heavy swell of pressure fills his chest, so he tries not to let himself think about it for very long.

(He fails.)

After he's done eating, you take the plates away and help him back into bed. You linger there, slipping your fingers through his soft brown hair and pressing a kiss to his clammy forehead.

"I really need you to rest, okay," you say quietly. "If you need anything, just text me or Sam. Don't get out of bed."

Dean grasps your hand before you can move away from him. Since you're probably going to wash your hands anyway, he lays a kiss on the back of your hand.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

Beau Arlen

Sheriff Beau Arlen is the type to run himself into the ground because he's so damn into his work.

He wants to do well in his station of responsibility, and he feels like he has to make up for his performance during the summer madness of Buck Barnes and Avery...and everything in between.

You just have to make Beau realize that he needs to slow down, before he well and truly burns himself out.

You put your foot down one morning.

He tries to get out of bed but has to pause, his head swimming. He takes a couple of steadying breaths while sitting on the edge of the bed.

You notice with a frown. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine. Just fine," he answers a little too breathlessly. He raises a hand to his head. His throat is sticky and coarse. He wrinkles his nose when he also feels a sneeze coming on.

"Just need a...a...mugh-ah-ha-hugh."

His coughing sneeze makes you grimace. You didn't even know someone could sneeze and cough at the same time.

"Aw, babe. You're sick," you say as you move over to him, resting a hand on his back. He shakes his head and groans.

"Nah, can't be sick. Gotta lot of work to do today," he says. His voice is like gravel blended with broken glass. It would actually be sexy, if for the distinctly un-sexy way he tries to clear the great wad of phlegm from his throat.

He tries to rock himself onto his feet, but there he sways on the landing. You hurry out of bed to grab his arm and steady him.

"Oh no, you don't. Back into bed," you say.

"Aw, sweetheart. I'll be fine--"

"No. Lay down. You're not going in today," you say more firmly, all while you tuck the man back into bed with the blankets covering him.

"All right, all right. No need to be so pushy," he can't help but tease.

It earns a small smirk on your face. It seems like his man flu hasn't yet deprived him of his sense of humor.

"I thought you liked that though," you reply. You sit on the edge of the bed and rub his chest. He groans in defeat.

"Can't believe this," he grumbles. "Today of all days--"

"There's always going to be another case. This is your body telling you that you need to slow down," you tell him. "So how about this. I'm gonna call in one of my sick days, and we'll bunker in together."

You stroke his bearded cheek. He quirks a smile, grabbing your hand and squeezing warmly.

"How long until I'm allowed out, warden?" he asks.

"Until you can stand without keeling over," you dryly reply. A smile tugs at your lips. "Remind me to stop by CVS to grab you a Life Alert."

"All right, har har haugh--" His sarcasm ends on a very real, wheezing cough. Your amused smile drops. You relent from your teasing and stroke his chest once more.

"Okay, just rest. Let me get you some actual medicine and I'll be right back."

He stops you by grabbing your wrist. "Hey, uh...can I have some chicken noodle soup later?"

"Of course, baby. I'll swing by the store now and get some stuff for you."

"And some saltines?"

"Saltine crackers on the side. Got it."

You're about to head to the bathroom to brush your teeth before you start getting ready to go to the store, but once again, Beau's needy hand stops you.

"Before you go, some tea with honey and lemon would be good. Just something for my throat," he croaks.

You smile and nod. "Yeah, for sure. That'll be better for you than coffee."

"Oh, and can you gimme that quilt over there?" he asks, pointing to your favorite knitted blanket at the edge of the bed. You graciously lay it over his form and drop a kiss onto his forehead.

"And some cough drops. Thank you, darlin'," Beau adds.

Your lips begin to press together, but you nod and continue getting dressed.

You can already tell this man is going to settle into you taking care of him just fine.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Neither of you thought it was possible, considering his super genes that allowed him to eat and booze and drug harder than Andre the Giant and Keith Richards put together.

But one day, your over six-foot super soldier goes down hard. The warning signs came the night before, when you could hardly sleep with the way he was snoring like a grizzly bear.

In the morning, he wakes bleary-eyed with a runny nose and a coughing fit hard enough to shake the bed.

"Fuck," he groans, dragging a hand over his face before he turns onto his back. "This's gotta be some kind of bullshit hangover."

You move over to him in bed and feel the intense warmth of his clammy forehead. Your brows draw together in concern.

"No, I think you're sick."

"Not possible," he grumbles. "I haven't been sick since..."

Well, since he was a kid, probably. He won't admit it, but he's surprised he still has that memory lodged in the back of his mind.

It comes to the forefront now: your hand on his cheek unknowingly mimics his mother's gentle touch, her soft, kind voice.

"Aw, my sweet boy. Let's get you feeling better."

He can almost recall the floral scent of her perfume, echoes of it in the shampoo you use.

Ben claims he's fine, that he doesn't need your help or want the medicine and tea you bring for him. (He tries the tea, grimaces, and spits it out when you're not looking.)

He's a sourpatch grumbly patient who only begrudgingly stays put in bed when you ask him to. He doesn't mind lying around and watching movies all day, not to mention episode after episode of Below Deck. It reminds him that he wants to get back into boating.

"Hey, sweetheart," he calls to you from the bedroom, his voice croaking all the while. "I'm getting you a yacht for Valentine's Day. You want it all white, or throw in a bit of gold? Actually, check out this one with the navy trim."

You roll your eyes to yourself when you step back into the room. You're carrying a tray with a large bowl of soup and a fifth of whiskey. He claims the latter will help soothe his throat, and you don't have the heart to argue with him when he's clearly feeling so shitty.

"You mean you're getting you a yacht," you reply wryly. "We live in the city. Where the hell would we put a boat?"

"In a yacht club, where it belongs," Ben retorts. He hooks an arm around your waist and peruses what you've brought him on the tray. He doesn't look all that interested.

"Look, I know you're not exactly a soupy kinda guy, but this'll make you feel better," you say.

"Why can't you put some fucking steak in it or something?" he grouses. He tries and fails to hide another wet cough.

"Why can't you just eat what I lovingly made, just for you," you snipped back.

He rolls his eyes at your attitude, but he pipes down. In that silence, he's conceding that you have a point. There was a time were all he had to do was glance in someone's direction, and there'd be some fucking moron to fulfill his every whim.

Now, you're probably the only one in the world that would actually do what you're doing...

Cooking for him, putting your heart into it, for the simple reason that you do care.

Ben takes the bowl of soup from your hands. Raising a brow, you offer him the spoon as well.

He eats without further complaint.

You smile and reward him with a sweet kiss on his forehead, brushing his hair back as you do so.

"See? That's not so hard, huh?" you can't help but needle him. "It's okay, baby. I'll take care of you."

He eyes you dryly, but he won't admit that there's a different kind of warmth coiling in his chest.

Boaz Priestly

"Uuuughhh, babe," he groans. "I feel like death on toast."

You're standing beside the bed with a smile playing on your lips. You brush back his for once un-gelled hair back from his face. It's weird to see it all limp and lifeless, slightly damp with sweat.

"Unironically, I should make you some toast," you reply. "What kind of medicine do we have?"

Priestly unearths his head from under his pillow to look up at you with miserable red-rimmed eyes and a sniffling, stuffy nose. "Can we count the tequila in the mini bar?"

"Maybe later," you laugh. "How are we on groceries?"

Priestly struggles to think. He takes your hand and rubs it back and forth across his chest. Maybe your sweet, loving touch has the power to clear away his congestion without him needing Vicks. Too minty.

"We have that pastrami I brought back from the shop," he says.

"That's six days old already," you shake your head.

"Aw, that's still good," he argues. "But uh, other than that, I think I have half a cheeseburger left from last night."

Last night's date at TGI Friday's, he means.

You heave a sigh. "Okay, clearly I'm going to the store. You just stay in bed and rest. Drink your tea."

He grimaces like a child. "I don't like tea."

"I know you don't like tea, but you need to drink it. It's good for your throat and your immune system."

He groans and flops back over onto his stomach. You bite your lip against a smile. He's such a whiny baby when he's sick.

Talk about Man Flu.

"Come on, be a good boy for me," you say, smacking him lightly on the ass. "Soon enough you'll feel better."

A smile creeps across his face where it's pressed against his pillow.

"Know what would really make me feel better?" he hedges. He tries to guide you down to him by tugging on your hand, but you resist him.

"Oh, no. You're not gonna get your germs all over me," you say.

"Hey, what happened to in sickness and in health?" he croaks. Even while under the weather, he's still plenty strong enough to grapple with you. He manages to yank you down. Laughing, you stumble into a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Huh, I don't remember exchanging any vows. You see a ring on this finger?" you tease, flashing your bare hand in his face to try and distract him and weasle out of his grip. "I can jump this ship anytime I want."

Priestly pouts. His arm hooks tighter around your waist. "Huh, guess you got me there..."

He turns his head and coughs roughly into his arm. Your amusement fades into concern and sympathy. You lay a hand over his chest while he struggles.

Once again, he clasps his free hand over yours. He glances up a bit hesitantly into your eyes.

"Well, maybe it's time there should be something on this finger," he murmurs.

You blink your eyes wider. Your head tilts, wondering if you just heard him right. Is this delirium fever talking, or is he serious?

"O-Oh yeah?" you ask.

Priestly tries to gauge your reaction. Seeing your face break out into a cute, shy smile raises the corners of his lips. Hope blooms in his chest, right beneath your hand.

"Yeah," he says, trying to clear his cracking throat. "I mean, if you're okay with that. If it's not too soon--"

You slip your fingers over his plush, chapped lips, and your smile brightens.

"When you're feeling better, you can ask me that question properly."

AN: 😆 I hope you liked the first ever addition of Priestly!! It was so fun to try and write him again (it's been a while lol). Feel free to imagine this vignette in the same storyverse as The Miracle Man and Code Red.

But I also hope you enjoyed the "Big 3," as I call them, even though Russell is starting to give Beau a run for his money on one of those slots. 😂 Let me know which guy you had the most fun reading on this one! 💜

And if you want even more fluff before Valentine's Day, check out my friend @waynes-multiverse who just posted her set of V-Day headcanons with Dean, Soldier Boy, Beau, and Russell: Headcanon: Valentine's Day 💕

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

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[kurzler]

in my opinion, many modern greek retellings/stories inspired by greek mythology don't fail because they're inaccurate. they fail because they have nothing new to say.

i don't mind changes to the original myths, as long as they make sense and they have a narrative purpose! i understand that making changes is sometimes necessary to convey a certain narrative, especially to modern audiences.

is epic the musical mythologically accurate? hell no! but the changes serve to tell a specific story and to convey a certain message. also, epic the musical is self aware about its "inaccuracies". and the music just bangs.

is hadestown accurate? no! does it make the change that I always dread, removing the kidnapping from the hades/persephone myth? yeah. but hadestown is barely about them, and it uses greek mythology as a "narrative frame" to tell a certain story. it has a point. it has a message.

what are stories like lore olympus trying to say? what is the messagge of the hundredth persephone/hades retelling? what are we supposed to take from them? "don't listen to your mother she's a bitch"? "mothers are irrational and you should forsake her for a man"? very feminist.

why are we still doing the medusa "feminist" retellings? it's BEEN done. too many times. and they're ALL the same. it's a worse crime than being bad: they are boring.

i'm tired of retellings that are just "what if this very famous story was THE OPPOSITE and the protagonist was an ASSHOLE the whole time and the villain was MISUNDERSTOOD and the real VICTIM" okay but why. why would that be the case. what's the point of the story you want to tell. or do you just want to use shock value.

of course, i dislike retellings that are so different from the myth that they go AGAINST the spirit/message of the original, because in that case what's even the point of retelling the myth? just tell an original story. but i would take stabbed poseidon and capitalist hades any day over the same basic story of medusa being a girlboss or demeter being bad because of... reasons?

tl;dr: stop being unoriginal and tell a good story. or at least an entertaining one. i beg you

[meritski]

thrice upon a time • wanderer x gn!reader

Where you met a certain indigo-haired individual for the third time, though— it seems like you don't know that.

Raiden Ei, the great Electro Archon, created Kunikuzushi for one purpose only: to serve as proof of her ability to make a puppet that could rule Inazuma on her behalf. However, Kunikuzushi was much more than just a simple proof. The tears he shed in his sleep and the glint of hope in his sparkling eyes— he was much more than that.

A puppet is meant to be stern, devoid of likes and dislikes, almost like a machine. Yet Kunikuzushi transcended that definition. He possessed emotions—pure and beautiful ones that illuminated his face.  He liked the golden feather given to him by the said Electro Archon, Ei. And he was no machine, he was almost a human.

Ei couldn’t bear to place him in the harsh role that she intended for him for an eternity as a puppet. It would be far too cruel for such an innocent soul.

Though her intention to free him was motivated by kindness and what she believed (which was she didn't have the right to decide his fate, even though she was the creator of him- he was his own person.) was best for him, the action was interpreted as a "betrayal" by our dear puppet boy.

His mother decided he was a failure from his point of view. And his mother, as divine as she is, doesn't like failures. Because eternity is perfect. And Kunikuzushi is far from perfect.

Fate was cruel, he decided.

And fate decided to prove him right.

"You look like someone who would enjoy the petals of Sacred Sakura blossoms!"

You said cheerfully, your hands covered in dirt as you planted a sapling in a pot.

At first, he didn't realize you were talking to him. Only when you tilted your head in confusion at his silence did he come to his senses.

"Sacred Sakura blossoms?"

His voice came out softer than he intended. He panicked mentally, wondering what was happening. It had barely been a week since he decided to build walls around himself and not let anyone in. Yet the bricks started crumbling the moment he saw you.

Stop that. Three betrayals are enough already.

But your smile was so pretty, and it was directed at him. He felt like he was going to faint; his neck was burning, and he didn’t understand why.

"Mhm, they'd suit you," you said.

Your sweet voice rang in his ears, and now it wasn’t just his neck��his ears, cheeks, and every inch of him felt like they were on fire.

He glanced at the various types of flowers in pots around you. Ah, you were selling them. He reached into his pockets, fully aware that he didn’t have even a single mora.

He wished that some mora would magically appear in his hand so he could buy the sacred sakura blossoms you mentioned. Maybe that would make you smile again.

It came as no surprise when he found himself empty-handed.

But it was definitely a surprise when you laughed and placed the pot he had been eyeing in his hands.

"It's on the house."

Kunikuzushi learned a few things about you in the past few days.

One, you were selling flowers.

Two, you liked flowers. That was pretty much obvious, though he came to learn that it wasn't as simple as it sounded. You liked everything about them: in which conditions they grow, live, die; their meanings— everything.

And three, your hair smelled like flowers. He learned this purely by accident. One day, while he was helping you dry the pots, you were sharing details about what happens if you water the flowers too much. As you handed him the wet pots you had just washed, he took them trying slyly to make your fingers touch. (Just like every other time— and the moment they did, he became so shy that his hands trembled. It was cute, really. That was probably the reason why you weren't commenting on it.) He gently rubbed the towel around the pots while listening to you.

You were so caught up in sharing your knowledge and keeping eye contact with him while doing so that you didn’t notice the cupboard door was open, and you almost fell to the ground after tripping over it.

Almost. Thanks to his fast reflexes, Kunukuzushi caught you just in time. Your arms wrapped around his neck while his hands steadied you by holding your waist.

You were so close that the scent of your hair lingered in his mind.

Oh, and he also learned your name. Although it never rolled off his tongue, he thought it was pretty—pretty like flowers.

"So, you’re going to leave someday, too?"

Kunikuzushi's gaze was unreadable, but you understood it perfectly.

He was reflecting on the past, as the future seemed to hold the same inevitability.

"Yeah, that's what happens to mortals."

Mortals, not humans.

Kunikuzushi sometimes wonders if you choose your words carefully around him.

(And deep down, he knows you do. He is truly grateful for it—for you.)

Just then, your words shifted his perspective completely.

"I’m sure I'll find you in my next life."

Okay, that’s a new concept.

One that he definitely likes.

He wishes that in the Book of Life, your names are written side by side. So you could meet again, just like you said.

By the time he started to forget your scent, he had indeed met you again.

However, he met you without any memories of him.

You once told him that a person's past is what makes them who they are.

And now you don't know your past. You don't know him. Could you really be called the same person?

"You look like someone who would enjoy the petals of Sacred Sakura blossoms!"

Yes.

Yes, he would call you the same person.

You look different, sure, but he still feels that same emotion he buried deep in the space where his heart should have been.

You are truly the same person. His soul knows it.

The problem is, he is not the same person.

And he doesn't think he ever will be.

The Kunikuzushi you once knew is long gone, replaced by the Balladeer—whose hands are stained with blood.

He just wishes his hands were covered with dirt like they used to be when the two of you were arranging the pots together.

Fate was cruel.

Because that was what he, Kunikuzushi, wanted back then. He would meet you again—the you who had no memories of him. He envisioned a future where you would both be happy together, just as you once were.

He promised himself he wouldn't cry over your death. That was the plan. He wasn't going to mind fate's cruelty for once.

For it could have been worse; it could have meant never meeting you at all.

He intended to hold onto the memories of your time together until the day you would meet again. That was his resolve.

However, everything changed when he discovered you had been murdered.

You could have had so much more time. You two could have shared a beautiful life together—if only he had the power.

The power of eternity.

Because he wanted you eternally.

Now that he possessed the power, status, and even the mora he previously couldn’t afford to buy a pot of flowers from you, he found himself questioning whether it would be better to keep you out of his life entirely.

So, he decided that he wouldn't intertwine his fate with yours in this life.

Even though he was strong, he was now a bad guy, and the thought of you being connected to him made his stomach churn. After all, the Balladeer shouldn’t—

Ah, he realized he'd been silent the entire time.

How, you may ask?

You were tilting your head in confusion at his silence, just like you did back then.

The Balladeer decided he was weak when it came to you.

So, when he tossed a pouch of mora to you, all you could do was stare in shock.

"Give the next person you see a pot of them, then."

He turned away and started walking, not minding how you nervously told him the mora was too much.

You deserved better, after all. You deserved to find someone who could truly cherish you.

And more importantly, he heard your voice. He could also recognize your scent—were you using some body lotion now? Or was it just his senses yearning for you? Who knows.

It was more than enough.

He could live with that.

As he walked away from you, he heard you again. It seemed like you fulfilled his request because the line was similar.

"It's on the house."

Someone else was going to hold your hand in that life, someone else was going to share their bed with you.

Worst of all, you were going to love someone else.

But it's okay.

Because it was for you, your own good.

Everything was for you.

Everything.

Everything was going wrong.

He, the one who possessed the Gnosis—which granted him the divine power of his mother, a perfect being and his creator—had been defeated?

This can't be happening.

But it was. He looked at the pathetic excuse of a Dendro Archon in front of him with pleading eyes, his gaze begging her not to take it away.

The Gnosis—a part of his mother.

Fate was cruel.

No, fate is cruel.

It was, and it still is.

The Balladeer, the sixth of the Fatui Harbingers—Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom, Shouki no Kami.

No, to hell with it all.

Kunikuzushi.

Kunikuzushi had lost.

And just before everything went black, he thought about you and entertained dreams of sharing a house with you in another life. It was his way of seeking solace from the universe.

Ah, it seems he was starting to forget your scent yet again.

Il Dottore was the man behind it all.

When the truth about his past finally sank in, he felt a weight on his shoulders.

Katsuragi, the kind and loyal Yoriki, was the one who saved him. He was the one who gave Kunikuzushi a new home, a new name (Kabukimono), and even more—a new family. A family that he once believed would never abandon him.

Niwa, the boy Kunikuzushi admired dearly. His 'betrayal' could have shattered his heart like glass, if he had had one back then. But he just realizes there was no betrayal just as there was no heart to break.

The young companion he had found lying on the floor, lifeless and not breathing, added to his despair.

And then there was you, the one he loved. The one who died at the hands of a doctor.

The 500 years he's been alive, all of it was a lie.

Every moment, every person, everything. It was like a cruel joke.

All of your deaths were merely scenes in a theatre, crafted for someone else's viewing pleasure. Kunikuzushi seemed to be nothing more than the main actor in this cruel play.

All because of a cruel Doctor's thesis.

So, he decides to erase himself or any trace of his existence from Teyvat without hesitating. Because he didn't know what else to do other than that.

Could he carry the burden? Would he dare to atone for his mistakes? Could he live with it?

He wished he had never been born at all. It seemed like from the point he was born— nothing was right.

As the Wanderer tried to comprehend the flood of memories, he found solace in your presence.

Well, your former presence. Still you, though.

He met you, the one he met first, and he wouldn't ask for anything more.

Though deep down, he wishes he had now.

Because you—the one he chose not to intertwine with—seemed sad.

Lonely.

And he feels a lump in his throat when he learns you died alone in that life.

Even though the Wanderer feels guilty about this, he also harbors a tiny little bit of relief. Yet, the guilt consumes him, especially when he realizes the tears you shed while questioning why you were unable to love.

You thought about him in that life as well, but he will remain unaware of that.

What were your thoughts? Simple.

You thought he looked cute—murderous, but cute.

Oh, Archons, if only he knew. Maybe he'd talk with you in secret— No, stop it. He is glad he didn't. Because there was no way the Doctor would leave you alone if he did.

When he finally faced his past, which he once tried to erase, all that awaited him was a glowing vision and a seemingly dangerous situation(nothing too serious than a robot that was designed to be a god, for him. ironic, really. because he was a robot designed to be a god in the first place.).

At least he could still sense your scent during his visit to the past.

It was enough, really.

More than enough.

"You look like someone who would enjoy the petals of sacred sakura blossoms!"

You spoke without much thought; it was simply a guess, after all.

Yet, it caused the stranger's gaze to soften. It was strange to witness the shift from an annoyed glare to... this.

When you tilted your head in confusion, the indigo-haired stranger's eyes flickered with an emotion you couldn't quite identify.

"I would."

He hesitated, looking at the mora in his hand. As if debating whether he should give it or not.

You just laughed, he seemed cute. Murderous one at that but still cute.

I guess it wouldn't hurt to act like one of your pots went missing.

"It's on the house."

Fate is cruel, he doesn't mind.

In the Book of Life, your names had always been written side by side. That seemed enough.

Your scent made up for it, anyway.

𖤐⭒๋࣭ ⭑ notes!

☆ i've read in somewhere that sacred sakura blossoms mean memories of times with renewal and optimism— fits him, no?

☆ i started writing this at 3 am so it's not proofread again lol i seriously should fix my sleep schedule

☆ the idea sounded better in my head, i feel like i could add more evangelion references but my mind is not minding anymore.

☆ maybe I will rewrite this later (saying that became a habit atp)

[bolters-and-rivets]

you've just discovered proship vs anti-ship discourse, I am so sorry. unfortunately it's not isolated to Tik Tok, it's on here too

the bare facts, from someone who innitially dipped one way because of the blogs I was following then realised what I was getting into and got the hell out of dodge for my own sanity: TL;DR: as ever with discourse like this it boils down to an online clique having a "justified" reason to bully people

proship = radical acceptance of ships and fiction regardless of content and focussing only on reading the content you want. it's the concept of "don't like don't read" if it could be boiled down to an idiological principle. OP's stance very much follows accepted proship talking points, to give a relavent example

antiship = the belief that all content is capable of causing material, real world harm, therefore a fic that features a certain topic is the same as activly commiting that action in the real world and we and all our freinds should harrass authors until they disapear from the internet or kill themselves, we are the morally correct side of the argument.

it's reached the point of people in group A with entirely reasonable stances having to become more hardline and defend content in fiction that they actively dislike like because group B is going out of their way to harrass people for perceived moralilty crimes in the name of "reducing harm".

this shit started because people are afraid to admit that they dislike a ship, hell anything, simply because it's not to their taste, so they have to moralise their personal taste as the only good and correct taste. you don't dislike that ship because it's not for you, the ship is actually super problematic because the dynamic has an age gap so it's clearly condoning pedophilia, so you're justified in messaging everyone who follows OP accusing them of supporting a pedophile.

The “That’s immoral you shouldn’t write that, we need to get that taken down” discourse on tiktok right now is PISSING ME OFFF

Wdym you want censorship for a literal ARCHIVE are you fucking stupid

Ao3 was literally founded to preserve works that were largely getting taken down due to censorship

Censorship is the opposite of what Archive of Our Own stands for

The TAGS and WARNINGS are there for a REASON. Use them and stop complaining

The universal rule—don’t like, don’t read

It’s THAT simple

[wisteria-lodge]

why is Dramione so popular and do you think it's problematic?

I. PROBLEMATIC SHIPS

(scroll down if you just want to read about Dramione)

First thing is, I don't think any ships are problematic.

There are lots of ships I don't *like.* There are ships that squick me, or mischaracterize one of the characters in a way that annoys me, or that I think are boring. But saying something is "problematic" implies that I have an issue with it's existence, and don't think that anyone should ship it ever. And that's just not ever going to be the case for me.

Like okay. I have a really strong dislike of any relationship where Character A is "saving" or "fixing" Character B. (In my head I call them Life Coach ships.) I think that's an unhealthy dynamic that breeds resentment and also doesn't work. You can support people, but in the end they gotta fix themselves. BUT. I'm ALSO aware that fixing/saving the bad boy is power fantasy, and power fantasies are fun, and cathartic, and important. Maybe it's nice to read about Lucius Malfoy or whoever responding to that sort of attention the way you wish your father or partner responded in real life. People are messy, and complicated.

To take an extreme example, I know that some people who've been raped stay away even from sex pollen and fake dating, and others actively seek out non-con, even romanticized non-con, as a way to process and deal. Basically, I think people tend to seek out media that is good for them (or at least comforting) and backspace out of media that actively hurts them. You probably have a second of disgust where you're like, ugh that's a thing? But you're not going to read a whole Snape/Hermione fic if the premise upsets you.

I bring up Snape/Hermione because teacher/student is a huge squick of mine. Doesn't matter if they're both adults, or if it's more of an apprentice thing. It's a scenario and a power dynamic that I do not like. BUT. I understand the appeal. The premise of a lot of Snamione fics is... okay, here's this powerful, intelligent, well-dressed guy who is extremely buttoned up and repressed, who doesn't give anyone the time of day. But there's something about YOU (not your prettier friends/classmates) that gets under his skin, and now he's obsessed, wrapped around your little finger. Oh and he's damaged, so he *needs* you. That's a power fantasy. And like, irl you're generally pretty powerless as a 17 year old girl, especially when interacting with men in positions of authority.

Also, like, historically? A lot of fantasies have operated under the heading of "I know it's wrong, but I still can't resist." The fact that something is wrong, is a societal taboo, well - that's a very easy, safe way to get an adrenaline rush, and up the intensity of the fantasy situation. Even the stuff people always bring up when they talk about problematic ships - underage, incest, slavery au but it's framed like it's hot, idk. They're forbidden societal taboos for really good reasons, but I don't think it's crazy to be interested in the big red button that says DO NOT PUSH.

Like how about this. In my experience, actors who play villains tend to be the sweetest, loveliest people you've ever met in your life. And I've always wondered if it's because they kind of have to unpack all the dark, sticky, destructive, perverse parts of themselves on a fairly regular basis (and then have a good outlet for those same feelings.) Everyone has parts of themselves that are not "nice" and not "proper." I think fiction is a fantastic place to air those out.

II. DRAMIONE

I am absolutely not surprised that Dramione is so popular. First, Hermione gets shipped with everyone - for a long time she was the character everyone projected on, and while that's less the case now... she's still the most important female character, and she's a *good* character. She's intense, and goes a little extreme with the problem solving. She's good at observing people but not great with people. She misses social cues. She's compensating like crazy. That's good (relatable!) stuff.

And Draco? He slots into the worldbuilding in an interesting way, he's got a *great* backstory, he's arch and a little bit of a shit, but he's also sensitive and squeamish about violence. I also think he taps into that "oh shit I was WRONG" feeling that is such an important part of adulthood. Hermione is also just going to be the walking embodiment of that feeling for Draco, so he's going to feel some kind of interesting way about her.

I think Draco is fun to ship with any of the Golden Trio, because they've all got that martyr streak and Draco is a survivor, so they clash in interesting ways and end up balancing each other out. Draco and Hermione especially are both very politically orientated people, so they're a good ship for exploring worldbuilding, wizard world reform, or pureblood politics. I also think Hermione has a feminine, girly side that she feels a little guilty about exploring - and spending five minutes around aesthetic, fashion-conscious Draco is going to give her permission to do that. They both have a streak of practical ruthlessness that I think they would respect in each other. Draco can be... a little lazy, so passionate driven people are good for him. But then I think he would be a nice control for Hermione's workaholic tendencies. Ultimately I think they're actually very compatible.

(also like. Hermione likes quidditch players. and if her crush on Lockhart is anything to go by... she also likes pretty blonde men who dress all snappy.)

[angelsfuzzyslippers]

Stolas, kink, and violence

This is something I've been thinking about while both having an appreciation for the nature of Stolitz's past kinky relationship and anticipating/hoping for a trend of Stolas getting more hands-on with defending himself and working alongside IMP in future seasons: I really really like that Blitz became something of a safe space for Stolas to experience pain and violence.

Like, this is a guy who's been a victim of physical abuse for a long portion of his life and who is very much feeling the impacts of that abuse on his pysche and his ability to handle conflict. Stolas clearly demonstrates on multiple occasions that he is generally uncomfortable with violent confrontation/conflict (disliking the human sacrifice/refusing to stab the cake in Apology Tour, being horrified by M&M's behavior in Sinsmas, and even the fact that he chose to intimidate the agents in Truth Seekers rather than kill them outright is a sign of this, I think). Of course, push him far enough and he will turn to violence (Andy is very punchable), but in general he has a distaste for it, particularly with respect to interpersonal relationships, that very likely stems from his trauma. So the fact that he's not only willing but excited to indulge in extreme levels of pain play with Blitz (I'll never get over fucking bear traps, my god) is very telling. Obviously, there's a whole book you could write about people processing and coping with abuse via kink that plays to elements of the abuse and I am not the person to write that book. I just wanted to take a second to really marvel at how wonderfully trusting it is of Stolas to allow that with Blitz and how amazingly Blitz must have handled it for Stolas to continually find it enjoyable. Like, as far as we know, Blitz doesn't even know about Stella's abuse - and abuse like that is a landmine-and-a-half to navigate in kink even when both partners are aware of it. So for Stolitz's kink relationship to proceed so well, when only one of them isn't in the dark about potentially triggering information - (btw Stolas, I don't blame you because I know it would've required a million different interpersonal skills that you don't have to navigate it, but it was really unsafe to not tell him at some point) -isn't just a miracle, it's a testament to how attentive of a Dom Blitz must have been (especially since Stolas absolutely gives me the vibes of the kind of sub who wants to please beyond his limits). As for what this has to do with the future, I'm very very hopeful Stolas will have a bit of a training arc, so to speak. He no longer has magic, but still very much has reasons he'll need to defend himself and as much as he enjoys the fantasy of being a damsel, I think actually being one will get old for him quickly (especially as he cares more than ever about the people who'd actually have to risk themselves to save him). Violent confrontation is something he's going to have to get relatively comfortable dealing with and participating in (and without the aid of an un-medicated mental breakdown fueling him), especially as he continues to work and associate with assassins. And who better to help him settle into that, than Blitz? The man who supported and guided him through pain and violence intimately. I could easily see a scenario where Millie is trying to teach him weapons or Moxxie is trying to instruct him on sniping and he's just viscerally uncomfortable the whole time, but the moment Blitz steps in, it eases because of that trust they've cultivated. Violence doesn't need to be flinched away from if he's facing it with Blitz. And this could easily extend to the rest of IMP as he faces more challenges with them and gains trust in them as well; likely never as much as he has with Blitz, but enough that the thought of a sparring match for fun wouldn't have him grimacing. And that's something I'd love to see. .....now as for how Blitz's own past with physical abuse and the violent nature of his life as an imp and assassin impacted his role as Stolas' Dom and shared test for extremity in the bedroom... I have no clue where to start with that one, but I know Blitz loved using those bear traps as much as Stolas did 😂😏

[dokjafang]

the yan vn community is a bit hectic,

Whats your opinion on the indie visual novels with yandere characters?

People get intense with games to be honest. Though, root cause is pride to be honest. Unfortunate. Hopefully, things cool down sooner rather than later. I don't get involved with networking, so I'm not a direct associate to the yan vn community.

WARNING: My controversial opinions. Things I keep to myself. But, you did ask for my opinion so here. Also, casual and unstructured content.

Well I like playing them, or watching gameplays of it. Usually, though, I wouldn't say a lot of characters are my type. Most of the characters are my friend's type, not mine. So rarely will I play yandere visual novels. Usually on the emotional side or um, just know a lot of them aren't my type!

Also, ANY visual novels... well, I honestly treat it the same way as any other story or book. It's just another story to play through. Sure, it has visuals, but what matters most to me is story and characters. Like, if the MC genuinely irritates me (usually ENFP's, ESFJ's, or ENFJ's protagonists irritate me most), then I will not play the game no matter what. I can tolerate things; but honestly I can't play a game, where I have to constantly deal with an annoying character.

It's also one of the reasons why I didn't get so far playing Love and Deepspace. I heavily dislike the MC there. Too emotional for my tastes, too outspoken, and frankly? I'm no dom, you won't find any dom bone in this tiny body of mine. haha So yeah. But mostly, MC personality irritates me. Things like that. It also goes for yanderes and plots in general.

I play games to have fun, and I don't have any expectations for yandere visual novels. I play for just relaxation; because I know it's once-in-a-blue-moon will I ever find an actual yandere that vibes with me.

Because most of the time, the male yanderes I like are what people consider "abusive" and what most consider not yandere. People say it's plain abuse shiz and all. But for me? Food. Like for me, my favorite "love story" manhwa of all time is this one:

I WILL ALWAYS LOVE THIS STORY. WHO IS THE PREY.

BOTH THE NOVEL AND MANHUA. YES I LOVE IT. Why?

Don't ask. Reminds me of my husband and I hardcore. Like among all stories I've read (that I haven't written), it's this one that resonated most.

So... you can already tell I have unconventional tastes. People hate this man. lol. But I love this story. Hardcore, reminds me of my own love story wahhhh so it's really close to my heart. 🖤🖤🖤

OH WAIT! I REMEMBER. I love this character because reminds me of my husband. People hardcore say he's not yandere, but I consider him one:

YANNNGGGG. I love this man.

Among all yanderes I've seen, this guy was most memorable for me. Yes, choke meee.

A lot of yanderes are on the soft, emo, creepy but wholesome, or what you generally read on most manhwa, for example. But, truly unhinged or unapologetic villain yanderes? Rareeee.

It's why I'm starving hardcore for content. Like actual confident + doesn't need validation from darling + unapologetic + sadistic + intelligent + truly black flag yanderes. That's my type.

Listen. I play games, write, or do anything really because I love my husband. Truly do. So anything that reminds me of him makes me happy.

Anyways.

There's this one story my friend played. People may not like or vibe with it, but it's called "Boyfriend to Death (BTD)". Never played it but my friend chatted it about it with me since she finished the game, and it's my kind of vibe. I don't like the graphics so I wouldn't play it. But the survival horror and genuine aim for your life? Well, that's dope. So, basically stuff like that is my kind of vibe.

Sorry, I do play otome games and visual novels, but usually it's not even yandere. The personalities are never vibing with me :((. It's difficult to even find fanfiction or stories in general with truly confident, unapologetic yanderes. Like truly strong.

My husband is like that, and well... I can't find any wahahahha. Oh well. At least I have food now in the form of writing.

Rambled but yeah. To me, visual novels, whether yandere or not, well, just another video game to me. As long as the game is generally fun to play and doesn't irritate me, then I'll play it. I don't really care nor get involved in community stuff; because I just want to have fun playing. And, I keep to myself, so yeah.

[lyricwritesprose]

At first, I really did think it was just because Landon had been struck by lightning. That was where I found him, you see—in the middle of Bryley's Woods, in a clearing, where it sure looked like lightning had struck and set things on fire. I am still not sure why he called me for help, considering that I have all the reasons in the world to tell him where to get off—except I'm increasingly thinking it might be because my name is Aashvonne (blame my Mom) and that puts me at the very top of his contact list.

The thing is, Landon was not a good guy. And I'm not just talking about all the things he put me through, I'm talking about everyone. Pretty much everyone knew that if you loaned Landon money you'd never see it again, that if he gave his word on something he'd have gone back on it by sundown and accuse you of lying about it, and the less said about his string of relationships the better. But the few anecdotes I've heard about being struck by lightning, there are sometimes personality changes or at least a renewed perspective on life, so I wasn't that surprised to find him unusually quiet rather than raucous and overly friendly. I tried to talk him into going to a doctor, but I wasn't going to try to wrestle with him about it.

We live in the same apartment complex, though, so Landon was there when we dug the stray kitten out of the dumpster—in fact, he did a lot of the digging, which shocked the hell out of me. Landon, willingly making himself dirty when someone else could be bothered into doing the work for him? We brought the poor little thing into Landon's apartment (which was astonishingly clean considering that he was between girlfriends) and drew a bath. The kitten let out a long drawn out wail.

Landon startled me by making the exact same sound back at him.

I have to admit, I jumped slightly. People meow back at cats, but they usually don't meow like cats. Not to that extent. "I think that means he's unhappy," Landon added.

"He's covered in shit," I said, "literally. Here, I think I've got the water right, hand him over." I looked at the kitten. "Also I think he may be a she. Ginger and white, that's a female pattern, isn't it?"

"You're the expert on cats, Vonnie," Landon said. The kitten made another protest as I put her into the warm water and tried a gentle scrub. Landon repeated that one, too, with just as uncanny a degree of mimicry. "Sorry, I'll stop. I don't think there's a huge amount of meaning in it anyway. Just, 'unhappy, unhappy, knock it off.'"

"You are going to be much happier if you're clean, dingus," I told the kitten. She was deeply unimpressed.

After that—and after Landon, who had always said he disliked cats, adopted Her Ladyship Dingus Creamsicle Loudly Von Dumpster, I started paying a little more attention.

Landon had a magnificent ability to make it through a conversation with someone without much information on where he knew them from, or indeed, in many cases, their name. I probably wouldn't have noticed except that I'm so bad with names and faces that I had to pick up a few tricks. He was using them all.

He was also using, I don't know, slightly lawyerly language. He'd hedge his bets rather than outright promising something. Which, on the bright side, meant less extravagant promises, so it wasn't a bad thing, just—different.

And he wasn't going out at night. Like. Virtually at all. From a guy who used to be all about clubs and parties, that was actually a pretty big change.

There had been a few strange things happening around town, for sure—the weirdest, and also closest to the apartments, being a couple of cops being chased away by "ball lightning" when they had been threatening a Deaf Black kid for not immediately complying—but I had no reason to connect any of that stuff to Landon. Until I came down with flu. (And yes, I got the shot, but that happened to a lot of people last winter; sometimes an unexpected strain wins, for whatever reason.) Sick as a dog, fragile-feeling as a horse—Landon was the last person I would have asked for help before, but then, he was a bit different now.

And he was lovely to me. Fed me soup, brought me my toothbrush at my bedside, all sorts of caretaking stuff. I wasn't even thinking of the changes in him until I was ready to go to sleep that night, and he said, "Good night, Vonnie," and turned off the light—

And I saw that his eyes were glowing emerald green. Not like a cat's eyes. Could have sworn these were lit up from within.

There was a frozen moment. I think we were both wondering what he would do to preserve the secret. Personally, I was also thinking about the ball lightning those cops encountered. They'd said it was green, not green-tinted, but a deep, saturated color. Like this.

"Is." I swallowed. "Is there anything else you want me to call you? You know. Like a nickname."

"It's just Landon." Landon sounded a bit unsteady, as if I'd scared the shit out of him too, by seeing.

"Okay. I'm cool with that."

"There—wasn't much left of the old Landon. When I got there. But he did want to do better, to be better—to have a second chance, I guess. Which is why…" He trailed off. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse."

"Yeah, I'm going to have to figure that out myself," I said. Fuck of an emotional brick to hit someone with, but I suppose it was emotional bricks all the way down. "Landon? Thanks for coming over. With the soup."

I couldn't quite tell from the light in the hallway, or the glow from his eyes, but I think he smiled and relaxed a little bit. "Anytime I can."

Your “friend” has been replaced by a doppelgänger. You aren’t sure where it came from or what it is under the disguise. But you know one thing; you prefer it over the original.

[hungermakesmonsters]

✨️✨️Congratulations on 500 followers✨️✨️ you deserve all the love for creating and writing such beautiful stories and i'm so happy for you 💖💖

Could i ask for a mini scenario where billy and (y/n) having a relationship like sandra bullock and hugh grant in the movie "two weeks notice". So it's basically boss - secretary relationship, but with a dash of romance and i think the movie was so cute abt how well those two work together

I have 2 scene in mind if you allow me to show you: the closet arguing scene and the restaurant scene. The restaurant being my favorite bc they just keep taking and giving food to each other bc maybe one can't eat them, or dislike them and the others just accept it and even taking it without being asked. And that happened so flawlessly fluid motion. I mean the were discussing business yet still taking care of each other's food 😭. And the closet argue are just cute. They were fighting but.. i'm gonna put those two in links and if you don't mind, do see them. Bc they have this cute chemistry in that movie

The closet argument: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6sFQPu4/

The restaurant:

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6sF4osY/

They were talking abt business, i can't find the audio for it, but this is the scene. They just take care of each other's food like a second nature. Mind you these two have not start a relationship other than working together as boss-secretary and i just 🫠🫠🫠

Okay, so I have not seen that movie in a REALLY long time (I think probably around the time it came out??) but I tried to really capture the underlying will-they-won't-they vibe. For some reason I always headcanon Billy as being really food driven and being particular about his food, so for him to allow anyone to touch his food is a really big deal for him. Anyway, I hope this lives up to your idea!!

His Smile

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : PG 

Warnings : None, just cuteness  

There was something automatic about the way you were together, probably due to all the time you spent with him. You could anticipate Billy, you knew what he wanted without him having to tell you. Half the time you even found yourself finishing his sentences.

That was just how things were between you. It was simple. Easy. Comfortable.

Of course, there were the jokes that you were like an old married couple from Frank and Karen, but Billy — well, Billy was Billy, and you were just his secretary.

Any feelings you harboured were one-sided, but it was fine. You were fine just being around him, being his secretary and his friend. You were one of the few people he trusted, that he confided in, and that wasn't something to turn your nose up at.

Women would come and go, but you were a permanent fixture in Billy Russo's life.

"I'm starving," he grumbled, eyes fixed on his phone.

You barely looked up from the file you were reading. "It'll be here soon, we only ordered five minutes ago."

He gave a hum and shifted in his seat. If it hadn't been for you, the both of you would still be at Anvil trying to solve the problem you'd found yourselves stuck in. But, fortunately, you'd managed to convince him to relocate to the little burger place just down the block from the office, knowing how cranky he tended to get on an empty stomach.

It wasn't unusual for you to work late, to lose whole evenings at his side working through whatever problems might have presented themselves. And, it was fine. In fact, you love these evenings you got to spend with him.

The moment your food was placed down, you found yourself lifting the bun on your burger to remove the pickles, lettuce and tomato. Without thinking, you placed them on Billy's plate and knocked the bun from his burger to take his red onions.

"I can't see a way around it," you said, "I think you're going to have to take on additional operators if you're wanting to keep up with the work load."

"I know," he answered, "but the budget..."

He didn't have to finish the comment for you to know exactly what he was trying to say. Profitability was on a knife's edge and adding more paid operators would mean more contracts but, for the time being, a much smaller return.

"The only other option is to lose the other contracts," you shrugged. "Or risk leaving current missions understaffed."

Billy barely looked up from the spreadsheet on his phone as he reached for the sauce, squeezing a healthy dollop of mayo on your fries before coating his own in ketchup.

You both started to eat, his fork finding its way to your plate to scoop up some coleslaw, knowing how much you hated it. You couldn't help but smile at that, glad that it was gone.

"The other option is temps," you said before taking a bite from you burger, your eyes still fixed on your paperwork. "Loan some guys from another company."

"That'll cost more."

As he spoke, you reached across the table to relieve him of one of his onion rings, knowing he had no intention of eating them. You weren't sure when or how you'd realised that Billy didn't care for onions, just like you weren't sure when he found out that you hated coleslaw. You just knew.

You knew him.

You knew each other.

You spared him a glance, only to find that he was already looking at you, a soft smile on his lips that had your cheeks instantly starting to warm. Then his eyes quickly dropped, seeming almost embarrassed that you'd caught him looking.

"You could outsource? Let a small firm take the contract for a percentage of the fee?" You offered.

Billy hummed as he chewed on his burger, and you decided not to say any more. He needed to eat — you already knew that he'd skipped lunch, and the thought of him going hungry just made you feel uncomfortable.

While you ate, you both continued to read through your respective work. You reached for another onion ring from his plate, while he started to help himself to your fries once his own were gone.

Dessert was a similar affair.

Billy took the cherry from the top of your pie, while you exchanged his scoop of chocolate ice cream for your scoop of vanilla, leaving him with two scoops of vanilla. Again, you weren't sure when you'd found out that Billy didn't care for chocolate ice cream, but it was one of the things about him that always had you rolling your eyes.

Still, once you'd both finally finished eating, he looked a lot better — still tired, as if he needed a proper night of sleep, but he didn't look unfocused and hungry anymore.

You looked up and caught him smiling at you again only, this time, he didn't look away. In fact, he reached for you, his thumb brushing over your lower lip before he seemed to realise what he was doing and pulled back.

"You had, uh — there was ice cream," he said by way of explanation.

"Oh," was all you managed to say in response, cheeks starting to burn despite the two scoops of ice cream you'd just eaten.

"I'm going to head back to the office, see if I can get this sorted," Billy said, shrugging his coat back on.

You knew he was offering you a way out — it was late and you knew he wouldn't blame you if you wanted to call it a night and go home — but you shook your head. There was nowhere else you'd rather be than by his side.

Pulling your own coat on, you just smiled at him, "we'll see if we can get this sorted."

Billy's lips pulled into a smile again, that strange little smile that had butterflies swarming in your stomach and made you wonder if your little crush was really as one-sided as you thought.

One day, you told yourself, one day you were going to kiss him on those lips and potentially ruin everything.

One day, you were going to find out what that smile really meant.

But not tonight, not now.

[the-life-of-a-herm]

Watch a YouTube video called self aware agp by Phil illy and see two trans women invalidate trans men and trans masculinity while also talking about being excited to study them and diagnose them and pick their brains, but not interview them or treat them like people. They also cite violently misogynistic cis male therapist ideas on sex the whole time. I'm sickened by the trans men in the comments patting them on their backs for this. Trans men need to start defining themselves and making their own terms and speaking about their experiences more often because I'm sick of us being defined by and studied by people who AREN'T US. Trans women don't have that right. No one but US have that right. One of those transandrophobes we're talking about "studying" and dating ftms and AFAB enbies in this and it's so disgusting, anyone who dates a dehumanizing person should be ashamed. At this point everyone who displays the slightest transandrophobe tendency needs to be FTM4B'd because we have a big prolific wonderful community and we can sustain ourselves. Likewise those losers can sustain their own selves too! It's not our job to take care of them and satisfy their infantilizing curiosities and fetishization kinks.

While i agree those two sound disgusting I will not support what the latter bit of your message seemingly implies. Just because people use their identity as an excuse to act the way they do, doesn't mean that's the actual reason. Bad people are bad because they choose to be and nothing else. Generalizing every trans woman as The Enemy because others do it to you does nothing. We need unity now more than ever.

No, we DON'T have to put up with bullshittery, especially in our own community. But trans women are not that bullshittery. They have fallen down a gross pipeline and I agree they should not be catered to, but I really dislike this dividing inflammatory language. Especially since people need room to grow and learn from their mistakes, otherwise us talking about the issues in the trans community is for nothing.

Hope this made sense. If I misunderstood you I'm so sorry. But you have every right to rant about the disgusting rot you see online! Your feelings aren't unjust! I just do not believe extremes will help us in this case. Much well wishes to you anon, sory this took so long.. The hospital was really stressful and so I decided to wait till I was out of it!

[henry-fox-biggest-stan]

My byler headcanons

Both are HUGE lotr fans (hehe). Will more, but mike would fight you on it.

Both are pretty good at maths and are science nerds

Will has cowritten a dnd campaign with mike at least once. They argued over plot holes and minor details. Maybe to make it funnier they didn't tell dustin and lucas that will actually knew all the plot (cause he helped create it), just revealed towards the end that will the wise had been secretly a spy to the big bad all along (since the beginning, will had been leaving little clues. "Guys we shouldn't do that", *knows things it doesn't really make sense for him to know*, *some of his decisions ended up harming them, oops*). The gasps and feelings of betrayal were genuine.

More of the party than byler, but they all definitely went into the woods behind will's house with plastic swords and pretended to fight. Cmon they 100% did. Bonus if while wearing costumes. Maybe they even recorded themselves if they got ahold of a camera (if Jonathan had one at that point). I keep imagining the party as babies recording themselves. Will is the one carrying the camera (he's the most careful), you have mike saying "today is tuesday, third of June of 1980, and we are going on an adventure" or smth to the camera (which is pretty wobbly), etc. Mike is the one that kept the recordings in his basement. He doesn't watch them, but he can't bring himself to throw them out.

About lotr, again. Will likes Aragorn but he isn't like, obsessed, meanwhile Mike doesn't know if he wants to BE Aragorn or be WITH him.

Mike loves star wars. Will doesn't particularly care about it (he doesn't dislike it, it's more, he enjoys it, he finds it entertaining, but he also thinks it's forgettable).

Will is a film snob, Mike is a book snob.

"Smalltown boy when Mike gets vecna'd" "should I stay or should I go when Mike gets vecna'd" wrong. Sweet Child O' Mine as mike's song when he gets vecnad. It's so byler from mike's pov.

"Gawain is the best knight out of the round table" "I have never in my life heard such an incorrect opinion".

Eachother's moms absolutely love them.

They hung out at castle byers, a lot. Also mike’s basement.

Mike never apologized for the "it's not my fault you don't like girls", mostly cause 1) he didn't mean it like that, and didn't think will took it that way and 2) when his parents get mad (at each other or at his sisters and him) they never apologize afterwards, just ignore it. That's what mike's used to. Will kinda wishes he did apologise, but he also doesn't want to bring it up again. At least before they started dating. That doesn’t take away from the fact that he hurt him, but he know fully understands he didn’t mean it like that.

Mike is also a star trek fan, will has watched some episodes out of pure love, cause he finds it SO boring.

Mike has read SO many epic poems and medieval fantasy novels it's insane.

So many sleepovers as kids, specially when Lonnie was still around. Will slept at the wheeler's once a week at LEAST.

Notice how will barely rides his bike after s1? Mike rides, and will sits behind.

Will is so intrigued about mike's relationship with nancy, and so is mike about will's with jonathan. "You guys don't even act like brothers but like friends!!" "What do you mean you don't know what books Nancy reads? She doesn't give you recommendations and talks with you about them?"

Jonathan babysat mike, 100%. When his family had to go and he was younger, they called Jonathan to babysit and paid him like 10 dollars (they called Jonathan cause they knew he was a responsible kid, and he was also Joyce's son so way better than a stranger). Will has also 100% babysat holly. Same reasons as Jonathan, responsible and familiar,

Nancy is like, intimidated by Will, a little. Listen, he's her boyfriend's beloved brother so she really wants him to like her + she just can't figure him out. Between will's quiet nature and all that happened regarding the upside down and him that they still have no idea about (how did will survive so long? What happened to him there (he never talks about it)? How did he communicate with the lights? Why him?) he's just an enigma to her. Will on the other hand is pretty comfortable around her, he has known her most of his life and thinks she's pretty cool. When Nancy saw will knew how to use a gun she thought she found an opportunity to bond with him and began talking to him a little. Will was wobbly out of lack of practice, "keep your aim straighter and firmer" “...okay". Nancy's nervousness around Will was taken from this fic Imao.

Jonathan and Mike have a pretty stable relationship. No, Jonathan doesn't hate mike, he just looks at him and sees a little kid trying to act older that his age and hopes he stops soon. Mike trusts Jonathan so much, like, they could be in a life or death situation but as long as Jonathan is there he feels safer, Jonathan will handle it, there's nothing to worry about. Mike also hates Steve. When he found out Jonathan beat him up once (and won!) his respect for him multiplied four times.

Will learnt morse code after s1, because he was afraid he would get kidnapped again. If that was the case, his mom wouldn't need to write the alphabet on the wall, he would be able to properly communicate through the lights with morse code. Mike doesn't know this.

Will was NOT thrilled about living with el after s3 at first Imao. He grew to like her but the first weeks were rough. He didn't hate her, not at all, he just didn't really know her much and was jealous of her (and her relationship with Mike).

"What if they are talking about me right now?" Mike, about Will and El, after they moved to cali. They are not talking about him.

Max hangs out with Will in his room, Mike really doesn't get it.

Will likes cuddles, and Mike is super clingy.

Robin enjoys annoying Mike so much she finds it so funny. Mike reminds her a lot of Nancy, and he has got such a judgy stare, she loves to provoke him. She thinks he's a nice kid, a little nervous, with eyes she can sometimes recognize (since she wore them too). She asks Nancy about him, Nancy finds herself unable to answer specific questions due to lack of knowledge, and frowns and presses her lips together. Robin notices similar gestures between both siblings, and the same nail biting habit. He seems a bit sad, and Robin doesn't know what to do with that.

With Will she vibes, she feels a bit bad for him after learning about all that happened (Will can tell, he hates it) and he also reminds her a bit of herself, she was quieter in high school, more drawn to herself. Sure, she wasn't fighting monsters neither did she have more than 1 friend but still, something felt familiar (eventually she learnt another similitude they had, she began talking about girls and such around Will without fear. Will didn't know how to react at first, robin did it on purpose, to show him "see, l'm talking normally, you can aswell, I'm not saying anything wrong". Will likes her. She was energetic and funny and a bit strange, it felt weird to find someone else, and he could see something closed in her eves every once in a while, a secret, a locked door. Will decided they were more alike that he thought). They bonded over cinema and shared movie and music recs. She puts her arm around his shoulders a lot.

Horrible runners, both of them. They can run in life or death situations, but don't ask them to run in a race cause they'Il die after 3 steps.

All the party falls asleep on each other since forever, including mike and will.

No pet names, unless you include "dude"

They were each other's first kiss, and I really do believe that.

Will definitely makes fun of Mike for not smiling in photos.

Mike never calls Will William, but Will does call him Michael sometimes (he's the only out out of the party allowed to because Mike hates it, however Will told him years ago that he like the way Michael sounded like, so Mike relented)

As kids, their tables were next to the other's in class, if they weren't allowed to be in pairs, it slowly became a game of "how closer we can slowly get our tables to be before the teacher notices".

(Baby byler) I think that as far as mike's friends go, Will might be Ted's favorite. Sure, he makes subtle homophobic comments (you see Michael, see what happens) but like, Will is a quiet, clean kid who can take his cue to leave (unlike Dustin) and who, instead of making mike more agitated (he was definitely a kid with lots of energy), manages to somehow calm him down. Hell, he barely even notices he's home anymore, and that's if he is, sometimes they're out in the woods or god knows where. Finally some quiet.

[evienyx]

Hello! I adore your Concord fic so so much, to the point that it's actually now my favorite Sonic fic. Your characterization for Shadow is fantastic and I'm right there with you in thinking that movie Shadow wouldn't hide how much he likes Sonic or be mean to him, not after how much they bonded on the moon and during the fight afterward. Actually, your characterization for everyone is very on point, and Sonic is an absolute delight. I'm so sad that he and Maria never got to be friends for real, because Shadow (and you) is 100% right that they'd get along like a house on fire lol

Anyway, there's a song that I think fits Shadow and Sonic in Concord perfectly, and I wanted to share it with you! It's called "Stargazing" by Myles Smith, and I think it's especially fitting for this latest two chapters. :3

Also, I don't know much about the Superbowl, but I'm told that they do a lot of cool stuff during it other than just the game and that people have parties and stuff when they watch it, so I hope you had a fun time!

One of the most important things for this fic for me was making sure that the characterization for Shadow was Movie Shadow and not Games Shadow.

Now, of course, Movie Shadow is an adaptation of Game Shadow, there are a lot of similarities. However, his backstory is different, and more importantly his dynamic with Sonic is different. If we're being totally honest, in the movies at least, they don't even have the rivalry thing going on (yet at least). They were legit just straight-up enemies (reluctantly on Sonic's side until Shadow almost killed Tom and Sonic decided to lock in) until the conversation on the Moon, and from there they are (oddly in-sync) allies.

This is not to say I love Movie Shadow more than Game Shadow, I love the both of them for different reasons. Nor do I love Movie Sonadow more than Game Sonadow. They're both wonderful, and both have so much potential. It is very different potential from one another. Game Sonic would have to work double time to get that conversation out of Game Shadow compared to Movie Sonic who had it in all of two seconds. This is fine, and lovely to explore on its own, but it is important to me to acknowledge the difference and write these stories with the difference in mind.

I do plan on writing more fics for them, because oh lord this ship is so fun, and there are so many things that can be done with them. Obviously we've already got the more angsty fic that I'm planning for after Concord finishes (I'll release the first chapter on the same day as the last chapter of Concord), but even more than that I've got a few too many ideas sitting on a doc. I've got ideas for the movies, for the games, and even ones for complete AU fics that would probably use a blend of their personalities from both. I'm mentally ill.

Anyway, holy mother of god are you right about that song fitting them. It's actually kinda ridiculous, and makes me wish that I could draw at all because there is nothing I want more now than an animatic of the two of them with that song for this fic. I'm gonna be sick, thank you.

And, uh, yeah, the Superbowl has got kinda three big parts to it: Game, Half-Time, Commercials. The Game is the big final NFL American football game for the season to see who's the best team. It's the last game in the playoffs. Half-Time is when they have a super famous musical artist do a fifteen-ish minute show during the break that comes after the first half of the game. The Commercials are whatever ads play when you're watching at home, and they used to be really good, big productions with like storylines and stuff, but this year they weren't all very good, and I suspect it might be the use of A.I. but you didn't hear that from me.

I'm not a fan of either of the teams that were in the Superbowl this year (the Philadelphia Eagles and the Kansas City Chiefs), but I only vaguely dislike the Eagles and I really hate the Chiefs, so I was perfectly happy to see the Eagles win. Any love toward them is gone now that the game is over, though, and I am back to solely wanting to see my own team win.

[fictionkinfessions]

Every kinsider list got the

- guy who you've been kinsidering for literal years yet always say no to, and at this point if you were actually kin with them it would be stranger, and yet you keep coming back to them because everybody is like "yep they're so you" and you see it to

- guy who every single kin assignment quiz assigns you as and yet you have no idea why but it just keeps happening

- guy from media you've never watched/read/played who you heard about in passing and those alarm bells went off in your head but you have a job rn so you don't have time to deal with that

- complete wildcard that no one could guess in a million years and YET

- guy you are almost certainly kin with but you dislike them for one reason or another and so are going heavy on the denial

placeholder text because tumblr wont let me post ask messages without something in the reply box

[feykrorovaan]

"I don't like that character because their actor/VA is a piece of garb-"

Me:"Shhh the character and the actor are not the same person. They haven't done the same things, nor do they hold the same views. Your argument is invalid. Shhh."

[flinnirthefruityfiend]

i'm so so sorry these things happened to you. idrk what to say actually to that but i'm sorry that's horrible

i think anti-misanthropists don't understand that phobias are natural and normal trauma responses. like i don't condone people saying all humans are evil and should die, but if you've been consistently abused by human society, it is normal to feel afraid. it would make less sense if you weren't, actually.

just like when a small child gets bit by a dog, it's normal to have trauma surrounding dogs. that's literally how evolution works and it's why prey animals are afraid of potential predators. It's like basic nature. i don't see anyone going around saying that dear are evil and bad because they're naturally intimidated by humans.

i have trauma surrounding birds which makes me afraid of birds and i routinely have nightmares of them, but i don't see anyone calling me a horrible bigot for feeling that way, so there's no reason why they should say that to you.

that being said, i don't think you should dislike humans for being groomed to act horrible in modern society. you have to remember that humans aren't naturally as bigoted as they seem, and a lot of it is socially constructed. no people are born nazis for example. rape, abuse, and bullying occur in multiple species, not just humans. if you can, please speak to a mental health professional or a support group. i understand if you can't, or maybe you've tried and it doesn't help, but please seak some form of therapeutic coping.

TW: basically, anything and everything(kinda trauma dumping, my b)

do not comment some "I didn't read the whole thing but-" shit. You will not get a nice reply.

(I apologize if this is just rambling or has bad grammar/spelling, i wrote this while very angry and shaking)

"Misanthropy is bad because-" shut up, actually shut up. I don't care about your reasoning, shut. the. fuck. up.

"Misanthropy is a psychological and social attitude of hatred or distrust towards the human species. Misanthropes do not hate specific people, but they hate the qualities that make people human, such as selfishness, intolerance, or unwillingness to change" - google

I have hated human since I was a child (before I knew I was none human). Since my nazi father tried to make me like him. Since my family called me a retard for my autistic traits. Since I was bullied in 2nd-9th grade. Since my family laughed at me for being queer. Since my dad told me he'd call me a man when I grew a dick. Since I was groomed/sexually abused at 14-16. Since I was 9-13 and being asked for nudes online. Since I got stalked. Since my first "asexual" girlfriend raped me. Since I watched a cop beat my black cousin for having a bb gun. Since I watched my dad kill a puppy. Since I had to break a chair over my dads head to get him off my sister. Since my best friend was shot and killed on my 16th birthday and my mom was mad at me for crying. Since I was heavily addicted to pain killers and no one helped me, they just ignored me cuz "junkies are just like that, they don't want help they just do it all again".

My c-ptsd and BPD caused me to develop a phobia of humans/human interaction and a phobia of being perceived, I barley went outside for 3 years.

that fear turned into hatred. I can leave my house now and I will fight every single person that makes the world we live in worse. This hatred was caused by trauma and if you think that's wrong, fuck you, do not interact with my posts at all.

[egophiliac]

(breathing into a paper bag) FRALIO....

can't believe they gave us another guy. oh my god. so I guess Kelka is more, uhhh, more OOO then, and Fralio is Ankh? not that it matters too much, although they do seem to be doing something with the connected Riders so. who knows. anything goes! or if I may, anything gOOOes! god. of course they're the Ambition parallel. of course they are. oh my god.

fortunately there's nothing else they can throw at me right now that could possibly --

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH