#keen to go get waffles

[dreaming0fdistantgalaxies]

Little lace corset moment 🥂

[blorbocedes]

let me take you guys on a journey. one that will help you understand how annoyingly obsessive and hung up my brain can get......

so here is where our wild goose chase starts. I was going through a 2012 f1 blog's nico tag. it's actually pretty rare for early 2010s blogs to have comprehensive tagging systems so whenever I find one I try to go thru it all. and I come across this v cute nico image (cropped for posterity. payoff will be worth it promise)

here we have a picture, from 2012, and in classic 2012 fashion there is meme text on it. OP of the original pic deactivated. so I want to find the version without the meme text. pretty easy, just reverse google search right?

WRONG!

google reverse search is functionally dead and defunct and absolutely dogshit.

ok back to square one. I'm trying to sus out from whatever information I have.

the other meme watermark of f1humour.tumblr.com? deactivated.

okay 37 notes. maybe I can do something with this.

tumblr kind of breaks (?) with very old posts. so even if someone tagged it, I can't see it. ok but 14 people liked it!

of the 14 accounts only 7 actually show, including mine. so what I do is I go through 6 of those blogs, and their public archives because those accounts are all inactive for several YEARS now. and I check their blogs for April 2012.

no luck.

back to the drawing board.

the meme has a MOTORSPORT.COM watermark.

here's all the information I have: this was posted on April 24th, 2012, which means that's my upper limit on the date this could be taken. Nico got in Mercedes in 2010. So from anywhere between 2010-2012 motorsport images couldve taken this pic.

so, because I was born with excessive intelligence, I think hmmm... let me search the archives of Motorsport Images dot com. surely that is where Motorsport dot com would keep their Images.

two years of a racing driver's pictures means thousands of pictures. okay. let's start from April 2012. unfortch for keen eyed listening, April 2012 was also the Chinese Grand Prix aka Nico's first f1 win.

why is that relevant? because it means every photographer and their MOTHER took a picture of nico for his first win. over 900+ images.

while I am exhibiting extremely unemployed levels of behavior here, I don't actually have the time and brain capacity to sift through 900 images.

I go back to the original tumblr post. this time I go to the empty reblogs. there's lots!

but because there's no tags it can't help me. still I go through every one of them because you can see the blog I found the pic from @the-fastest-waffle is listed in the other reblogs even though they clearly had tags!

and I find my silver lining. from @fuckyeahf1drivers's tags

just this simple. #bahrain #lol

if this picture is from bahrain 2012 it changes everything, as in it narrows my search a shit tonne.

375 images. This means 1-15 pages and I know the exact picture I'm looking for. I feel like I'm SO close. I can't give up now. gambler mentality 💎

so I guess what. I go through all 15 goddamn pages. and I DONT FIND IT!!!!!!!!! SCREEEEEECH

now I've lost hope. if it's not from bahrain 2012 then it can be from anywhere from 2010-2012 taken by motorsport.com which is just too big a search. there isn't anything I can narrow it down with. my search is futile.

but I have one tiny little thought bugging my mind. how come motorsport images don't have the motorsport.com watermark... so I consult a fellow archivist @vegasgrandprix on the matter.

WE AS A SOCIETY NEED TO ADDRESS WHY MOTORSPORT.COM AND MOTORSPORT IMAGES.COM HAVE THE SAME FONT

finally. finally

I go on motorsport.com

which is actually kind of not super user friendly interface finding their pics if you have excessive intelligence like I do. I go into this knowing if the bahrain 2012 long shot is actually NOT when that picture is from, I'm fucked.

I filter and say a prayer.

and lo and behold.

salvation.

one person's singular tag of 'bahrain 2012 lol' led me down this spiral, where if it wasn't for that bit of information this would be lost forever because finding the version of the pic without the meme text is otherwise near impossible. google reverse search is no help, and f1 drivers simply get photographed way too much. reblogs + tags with context literally are a holy grail. this is what I imagine archaeologists feel like. so if you ever want someone 12 years after you've posted something to go down finding out, tag your posts accordingly (assuming tumblr survives the next decade)

so why did I do it? why did I spend hours of my life on this? cause it's fun. it's like a mystery and it itches at my skin. many times I'm not successful which is why the times I am feels so rewarding because it feels almost like detective work, finding and refinding something, overturning evidence. and I have a brain that just functions Like This.

and now for the fruit of my labour, if you guys still want to see. the picture I spent hours to find the original version of. sitting proudly at the time of posting at 9 notes 😌😌 here's what goes behind actually finding and archiving 2010s retired f1 drivers online. click below!

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👆👆👆

[literaryobsession]

bond | katsuki bakugo x reader

summary: katsuki has a close bond with your mom!

warning: not proofread

You knew that Bakugo and your mother had some sort of a bond you never really expected them to have.

You've always thought that Bakugo would never care about approval from your mother, expecting him to act like his gruff old self around the woman but you were proven wrong by his nervousness when they first met. Around the public, he is nonchalant and professional (as much as the explosive Dynamight can get) but around Pro Hero Wave (your legendary Pro Hero mom!), he turns almost into this sweetheart who seems to be kinder than the man you married.

"We'll visit this weekend." You heard your new husband say as you entered the kitchen. You had just woken up, stretching your limbs and still very sleepy, and found your bedside empty. It wasn't unusual though, Bakugo wakes up earlier than you do and makes breakfast every single day.

Today isn't any different.

Bakugo looked like he just finished cooking since he was plating up the waffles on two separate plates - one for you and the other for him. He was busy talking on the phone too and didn't even notice you come in.

Who is he talking to? You wondered as you crept past him and took a bottle of water from the fridge. The sound alerted Bakugo, he turned around and smiled at you. That was when you wordlessly inquired who was on the phone.

"Yeah, she's awake. Mmm, I'll tell her." Bakugo grinned and chuckled after a few minutes, "She doesn't have much of a choice."

His reaction made you curious. Katsuki Bakugo doesn't even talk like that to Kirishima. Why was he acting so weirdly?

Once the call ended, Bakugo took the two plates and answered that questioning look on your face, "Your mom."

"My mom called you?"

"I called her." Bakugo left you in disbelief and took the plates to your dining room. You quickly followed him and he continued, "She sent a message earlier today that she'll be back home this weekend so I decided we'll go visit. You live in Kumako City, don't you?"

"Uh, yes." Your husband pulled a chair out for you. "It's a three-hour train ride away."

Bakugo nodded, settling on the chair adjacent to yours, "I'm thinking we should bring cake. Your mom likes cake, right?"

You smiled, albeit sleepily, when he inquired. You mentioned this fact once, merely in passing when he first had to meet her. But the idea that he remembered it isn't something new, Bakugo always seem to pick up even the tiniest of things about you.

It was his keen eye and memory that makes him an incredible hero and an even amazing partner.

He did get your mother cake, it was sitting on his lap as you two boarded the train. When you guys arrived, Katsuki gave your mom the biggest hug — the kind that only he gives to you and his own parents.

"How are you?" Your mom led you two inside, and you wondered if she was speaking to you or your husband. Katsuki took over the conversation, smiling and sharing stories.

It made you smile though because he gave so much effort to be present in the conversation. He made sure to establish a relationship with a woman who was so prominent in your life.

Who is this man? Who is this warm and friendly man?

"You and my mom have quite the bond, 'suki." You commented as soon as you got home.

Katsuki gave you a smirk before joining you on the sofa, "Mmm, I know she's important to you so I put an effort into being close to your mom." He laid his arms on the back of the sofa and continued speaking, "Plus, she's an amazing lady. She's a great hero too."

Those were true. It touched your heart that the hard to please Katsuki seemed to admire your mother greatly.

What he said next made you melt. "Plus she gave birth to my favorite person. You."

You gave him a sweet smile and sunk into his arms, wondering how to got so lucky in life.

[the-anxious-stargazer]

Like Honey || Sam Carpenter

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Although Sam have promised herself to not get too close to anyone outside her newfound family, she struggles when she meets a regular in the diner she worked at.

Words: 4.02k

Note: This is inspired from Halsey's song Honey! i'd recommend you guys listen to it while reading :) i'm slowly starting getting into horror bc i dont want to be a pussy no more and watch them for jenna and melissa (they are so hot omfg)

[Masterlist][Part 2]

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Sam promised herself that she'd focus on Tara and the gang first before learning to let new people in again in her life. That promise was made when they all moved to New York after the murders in Woodsboro. After Richie. A betrayal like that is a valid reason for her to be closed off and be suspicious of anyone her sister or her friends meet. The same could be said for Quinn, Ethan, Anika, and everyone else she had met when they were introduced to her. Sam did warm up to the three the longer they stayed. She felt a little more comfortable with them when her gut told her that maybe they were genuine people. But she still almost kept to herself. She almost didn't have any friends outside them other than Danny their neighbor next door.

Being the oldest and mother figure of the group meant she worked for her and Tara's share of rent and other needs. Even though their mother sends money for bills and such, Sam wanted to work still. Though she knew what she get weren't much it didn't hurt to start saving her own money. So she worked to keep herself busy but not too much to not acknowledge that she was suffering such a mental scar from the attacks. One of those jobs was in a diner a few blocks near them. It paid okay and the staff are kind but Sam rarely bothered to get too close to them. All she ever knew from them is that they were willing to offer a smile and small conversation.

Usually, she takes the morning shifts, other times she takes the graveyard ones. You can pretty much figure out which shift she preferred over the other.

The regulars were introduced to her on her first shift by Dale, the main cook. There was a couple, John and Amy, who was always on time in the morning and order eggs and toast only with two refills of drip. Rex is a sculptor who mostly sits in the corner and has a few sketches by the table with him, only ordering an omelet with ketchup. There's also a programmer named Adrian who gets a lot of coffee and a BLT at night. Sometimes his friend Ben joins in with fries. A young woman named Adelaide who works from home and is always on the phone while she ate her waffles and vanilla milkshake. Adelaide would go by the mornings if she wakes up early or comes by near the evening when she could.

Lastly, there was Y/N. Sam has figured before that she looked around the same age as her. Cate mentioned when she was teaching her around that she's been here way before her and she pretty much knew everyone in the diner. She was mostly in the morning with a few files in her hand. She's an assistant in an independent law firm. There were times that she came by night and read some of the files she had all the while taking a sip of her joe now and then, other moments she was taking notes for a case assignment that her boss told her to take a look for him. Sam always gets a warm greeting from her as she did with everyone else when she enters the diner and interacts with her whenever deemed necessary. She thought she was too nice to be true.

"You from New York?" Y/N asks her as Sam fills her mug and couldn't help but doubt for a second if she were going to be honest or not,

Y/N always had a keen eye. She liked watching everyone else and let the world work. That meant she liked observing the customers that enter the diner every now and then, noticing how John always drink his coffee slowly to match Amy's pace and always offers an extra toast to her. How Adelaide sometimes start scribbling on her tissues while she talked to her boyfriend who she assumed lived away from New York. The fidgeting Cate does when she's serving Rex and giggles a little when she talks to him. Y/N could see how tired Sam was even when she had just started her shift a few moments ago. The neatness of her diner clothes, layers of makeup, and fake smile couldn't mask the exhaustion the woman has felt for who knows how long. She didn't want to pry about anyone's story so she tries to offer what she only can to someone who deems her a stranger, kindness. It doesn't hurt to treat anyone fairly.

"No, not from around here. I'm just trying to start over." She answers half-heartedly, trying not to give away any information about her at all. Sam sees a gentle smile from her and she couldn't help but feel the burning sensation on her cheeks.

"I wish you well for that. Everyone deserves a restart." And with that, Y/N thanked her for refilling her.

Those were one of many encounters Sam had with her. There were times Y/N would order 2 cups of coffee for her to share with anyone on the staff and reluctantly Sam accepted her third request at the random times she offered. She was beyond suspicious. Her doubt was understandable given the fact that she went through a lot that broke her sense of trust in anyone. But her cautiousness was only met with a tender conversation. Y/N would always ask how she is and the first and ever personal information she has ever given to anyone outside her family was her. Sam vaguely talked about how Tara has been slowly losing interest in seeking help and acting like nothing happened. Of course, there are a few changes here and there to make it seem like a normal rant about her younger sister and Y/N listened intently to her.

Or maybe it was because she was too distracted by the beauty of the older Carpenter sister.

Those seeming doe eyes that hid too many secrets.

Another night shift has come and to Sam's discomfort, she had to be at work. She just came from therapy and her second doctor had just given up on her, making her night already more dreadful than it was. And just to top things off the students who have been visiting the diner lately have been making it their job to worsen her night by being obnoxious and gossiping over her. They weren't even trying to keep it down as if they were back in high school and Sam had just stolen the famous girl's ex-boyfriend. Tara had told her the rumors about her and Woodsboro before and she couldn't care less about what a stranger, who wasn't even there, would think. It was the breaking point when one of them spilled their milkshake on her "accidentally". The smug smile the girl wore before she did it was almost too easy to miss but little did they know that Y/N had been watching them silently the entire time. The woman's had enough of their disturbance. She had been gripping on her pen hard to almost split it in half.

"I'm so sorry, miss." The girl in white apologized with a snide tone. Her friends giggle at her antics on the now pink-stained light blue blouse Sam wore. It just happened to be a strawberry milkshake too. Just last week a girl threw her orange juice at her when she was on her way home with dinner. At this point she thought she's collecting all the fruit flavored drinks.

"D-Don't worry, I'll get it cleaned up." Sam begrudgingly states while avoiding her eyes before she went to turn around but stopped when she saw how she almost bumped into someone,

Familiar Chelsea boots stood before her.

"I beg to differ." They hear the person say before the woman realizes who it was.

"And who are you supposed to be? Her friend?" One of them asks cockily to which Y/N smiles at their confidence. She had her sleeves rolled up already, coat resting back in her booth and Dale was waiting for her cue to tag along after she signaled him from her table earlier.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you some manners on gossiping about people you don't know? Let alone the one serving you your meals and minding her damn business?" She had slowly paced past the unmoving Sam Carpenter that watched closely. Both hands rested on the side of their table and her anger was prevalent from the way she carried herself in the scene. 

"She's a lying snake and a murdering bitch!" The other one barked from her seat.

"Let me guess, you got that from Reddit? What else are you going to believe next, that Beyonce's part of the Illuminati?" Y/N mocked her statement and that's when Sam realized that she knew about the rumors surrounding her, that she knew some bit of her past.

The girls had been quiet after she pointed out their bullshit. Sam had always seen her be courteous and approachable when she stops by, her smiles almost making her eyes crinkle when waving at them, and treated everyone with reason, but tonight was different. This was a woman who has lost her patience after holding it for so long,

"I'm going to ask you to leave. People like you don't deserve to be served when you treat the servers here like they're nothing." Y/N ordered with her eyes unblinking with focus.

When no one moved, Y/N let Dale handle the rest by approaching the table and the girls scurried fast before they were going to be thrown out by the man who stood almost six feet tall. Sam heard a few yells at the girls to leave the diner when they exited the place and her gaze follows back Y/N who had changed her demeanor. The cook pats her back for her handling the situation and thanks her before he gives Sam a pat as well and comes back to his previous spot. It was then that the woman offered her the unsparing eyes that always looked at her and asks,

"Are you okay?" Sam thought it sounded so sweet, all she could respond was a faint nod. She didn't even comprehend how a bit close she was already to her until a hint of soft vanilla could be smelled from her. Not the kind where it almost smelled artificial like those vape juices, but it was almost authentic. The woman before her then fishes out something out of her back pocket and extended her handkerchief.

"Here. You got an extra blouse, dear?" Another question follows after Sam takes it and started wiping away some of the liquid.

"No, mines in my apartment, and it's a few blocks away," Y/N hears her voice again after it was silenced earlier, "Hey Dale, Peter doesn't mind his servers being out of uniform for a situation like this, right?" She shouts at the cook who was just about to send a plate to Dolly, Sam's partner for the shift tonight.

"Nah, let me handle him when he asks next time. I gotchu Sam." Dale nods their way.

Y/N then started unbuttoning her shirt and it revealed a white tank top underneath her white button-up shirt. Sam knew should be looking away but couldn't even help herself. Her attention was so close on her slightly toned arms until she snapped out of her daze as the woman handed her top, "Here, you can borrow this for now."

Dolly went to grab a mop and started cleaning the rest of the drink on the floor, "I'll take it from here, Sam." She reassures her and Sam was beyond grateful of the people supporting her.

"A-Are you sure?" Sam looks back at Y/N who hasn't fazed.

"Yeah don't worry about it, Sam." She beams.

The Carpenter girl then watched her walk back to her booth like nothing transpired and quietly apologized to the remaining customers she'd passed by before sitting down. But if Y/N was being honest, she was still trying to calm down from the adrenaline. She was well aware that violence was never the option, yet the possibility for things to go south was out there. She never wants to ever resort to that. Sam then finally moved from the spot she was seemingly glued onto since the confrontation and went to change in the staff room. While she was away, Y/N ordered a martini and piña colada instead of finishing her coffee. Caffeine wouldn't help flush away the rush that still lingered. In between changing her top, Sam couldn't help but wonder why someone like Y/N would stand up for her when she barely knew her.

But that thought was pushed aside when she started slipping into the button-up shirt that was handed to her by the very woman she was curious about and a whiff of her scent made its way to her nostrils again. Sam paused for a second to process how addicting Y/N's scent was. Even her damn perfume was almost sweet. After pushing her thoughts away and finishing closing the shirt, she tossed her ruined blouse in her bag and went back out to continue her shift but only to be stopped,

"Hey, I kinda asked Dale to give you a break so... care to sit with me?" Y/N wondered before the drinks she ordered arrived with Dolly winking at her. The woman shyly smiles back at her before she left them alone and dealt with another customer.

"Yeah, I'd… actually like that." Sam settled on the other side of the booth as she slide the glass of martini to her, "Oh, I'm not allowed to drink while on—"

"Take it easy, Sam. You've been through a lot just now so take it. It's on me." She waves off before taking a big sip of her piña colada.

The woman reluctantly takes a decent amount from her glass while Y/N fixes her files that had been slightly scattered on her side of the table. It was the right moment for Sam to finally pop the question,

"You knew?" It came off pretty fast, making Y/N tilt her head.

"About Woodsboro, I mean. I'm sorry that came off harder than intended." Sam clarified her question and apologized for being forward to which Y/N didn't mind.

"That's alright. I've only read two news articles about it but other than that, it's all I know."

"You don't have to tell me about it, Sam. You said you wanted to start fresh, and you don't owe anyone an explanation." Y/N assured her and the Carpenter girl countered, "No, I feel like I can trust you about… all of this." Sam replies before taking a deep breath.

From being the daughter of the original killers in the Woodsboro murders to her seeing visions of her dad in the mirror and being a victim of the ghost face attacks, she spared no details throughout her story, her therapy sessions going almost nowhere because she'd scare them off and Y/N never stopped her flow and listened intently to everything she said. Not even a single sound came out of her mouth as Sam spoke. The only thing she ever offered were observant eyes that watched every move, like how the crease on her forehead slowly increased as she went on or the hint of distaste in her voice when she mentioned her deceased ex-boyfriend. She barely bats an eye when she even admitted that she enjoyed killing him and Amber. Not a single change of muscle movement on her face other than taking a few sips from her drink and blinking now and then.

When Sam finished telling her whole story, she had been anticipating the request for her to leave and never come back, just like the one her psychiatrist said when she told him the truth that afternoon. She had grown to expect that from anyone now. Yet all she heard was an exhale from the woman she shared the table with,

"That's... a lot to take in." She hears her note as she rub her chin,

"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, Sam. You didn't deserve it." Y/N continues with empathetic eyes.

"You don't… feel like the need to push me away?" Sam asks, and for once she feared someone's answer more than anyone else. Almost too afraid that she'd scare Y/N away.

"No, not really." She told nonchalantly.

Sam stared blankly at her as she moved to cross her arms and looked down from her seat. She couldn't tell if she was about to take back her statement or maybe ask her more about the attacks. Yet Y/N was able to catch Sam off guard as she went to finish her martini,

"Not going to lie, those two deserved to die for what they did— I mean… committing murders because your movie franchise sucked? That seems childish, especially for an adult man." Y/N comments on her thoughts, not realizing it made her choke on her drink.

"Oh my god, Sam— are you okay?" She tries to offer her a glass of water though the Carpenter girl waves it off.

"No, no, it's just— you're right their motive seemed childish." A laugh follows, and it makes Y/N smile that she witnesses her being unguarded. She almost felt too lucky that Sam let herself be this vulnerable to her now.

"Thank you, for not turning me away and for always listening," Sam says after calming down.

And Sam meant it. It was nice to be heard and not hated for the first time. She felt safe knowing that she could trust a new person for once. She still has a long way from being able to trust again, but small process is still process.

"You're welcome. You deserve it." The woman says as she leans forward on the table and rested both elbows close to the edge, "If you need someone to talk about... this, I'm always open. No matter what it may be, I won't turn you away." Y/N continues with her signature smile this time.

After that, Sam went on with her shift while Y/N picked back up the papers she had scanned before the confrontation. It's a good thing she noted down her thoughts to remember where she left off and continued looking through some of the witness reports she had brought with her for their recent case. Sam would sometimes steal a few glances from her and offer a small smile whenever she gets caught. That was the moment she started growing more fond of their diner's regular. Each visit felt more special than the last and each offer of coffee breaks has made both of them closer. Whenever Sam wasn't on duty, Y/N would feel a little bored but Sam was able to text her and ask about her day. When there was someone who wanted to talk shit about her, Y/N wouldn't hesitate to spit back at them or push the person when someone throws their drink at her. The Carpenter girl appreciated the gestures and sometimes feels too bad that she gets to be splashed at, but the woman didn't mind. Tara got to meet her one day when she visited Sam to work and hanged out a little just to kill time. She was very skeptical of Y/N at first, but the way her sister eased up around her gave her the impression that she was trustworthy. Sam's trust is hard to earn after all.

The night was about to come, and Sam had just finished her shift when she happen to encounter the person that has been making her days ten times better than she ever expected. Y/N always wore a pantsuit to work, switching from 4 pairs. Today she was wearing the brown one that had a waistcoat and she was killing the style. Sam never gets tired of her presence or the way she always presents herself. She just looked ravishing in a pantsuit. Y/N had her coat neatly folded on her right arm that held folders while her messenger bag rested on her right shoulder. The smile that was so familiar to her greeted Sam Carpenter warmly that she couldn't help but blush,

"Good evening, Miss Carpenter. I'll be your chauffeur for tonight." Y/N announces with an accent. The attempt makes Sam laugh, "If that's your take on a British accent, you need to work more on it." She teased softly, shaking her head.

"C'mon, I'll walk you home." Sam hears her offer and gestured her occupied arm for her to take, which she happily does so.

"How chivalrous of you, Miss Y/L/N. Keep this up, and I might start falling for you." Half of it was a joke, but she was indeed falling for her, harder than Sam even realizes. If only she knew that Y/N had already fallen for her a while now.

She kept herself composed after Sam's teasing. Both of them chatted casually as they walk through the streets of New York. Y/N talked about her day at the office and how their copier was jamming down. It was annoying her and she had to kick it a few times before it worked again. Sam, on the other hand, shared about how a costumer had a screaming match with a date while eating and almost broke things in the diner. Dale was almost livid when the woman raised her plate and was about to throw it at the poor guy. Moments like these were nice for Sam. The life that was just mundane for once and not surrounded by the craziness of her past that still lingers. No screaming stranger threatening her, another flavored drink being thrown her way or a masked psycho trying to kill her, but a quiet night. Laughs were shared, jokes were thrown at each other, and flirts slipped here and there to make it seem like it was nothing. Even if the world around them was a little overwhelming, they were stuck in their own bubble cherishing each other's presence. Y/N was content and she had gathered enough courage until they reached Sam's apartment building. She collected her thoughts and watched her let go of her arm,

"This is me," Sam gestures to the building door, "Thank you for the walk, Y/N. It was... nice." She follows up with a light blush present on her cheeks. She hoped Y/N didn't notice them.

"Yeah, it was." Y/N smiles at her and scratched to back of her head.

"Look, I've been thinking, do you want to grab dinner sometime? You know— like a date. If you don't mind." The woman begins to avoid her brown eyes. Y/N was way too damn shy, and it made the brown girl giggle.

Sam then approaches her and almost closes the gap between them, leaving a peck on her cheek that it made Y/N jump. She turned so red it was almost like she was cherry. It was a first to witness her like this and it made Sam giggle even more as she didn't move away from her spot,

"I don't mind at all. I'm free by 6 pm tomorrow. No need to be fancy or grand, anything cheap would be fine by me." The Carpenter girl move close to her ear to whisper it to her.

Y/N then finally pulls herself together and gathers back the natural courage she had, trying to match Sam's, "6 pm, tomorrow it is then. I'll pick you up here, Carpenter."

She was the one to pull away and she puts back her signature smile before bidding her farewells to her.

"Good night, Sam. Sweet dreams." Y/N smoothly delivers and starts walking back to where they came from earlier.

Sam then watches her walk away and bites her lip. The view was indeed nice to watch. She then covers her face with both hands before giddily smiling at the ground, thinking about what had just happened. Sam thought it felt like high school all over again. That rush in her veins was quite familiar to her. It's been a while since she had it. All she has to do now is prepare for tomorrow and be sure it's perfect. Y/N, on the other hand, skipped through the streets like a little kid as she smiled widely. Few strangers looked at her funny, but everyone else focused to their own world. The papers she thought she'd be working on tonight would probably be forgotten now that the only thing on her mind is their date tomorrow.

Both women looked forward to it.

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thank you for reading! fell free to leave a request :>

[the-batblog]

Bruce doesn't really know what to expect when he decides to take Jason in. He found a kid on the street who was bold and mouthy and wasn't afraid to do what he had to to survive. He's not like Dick; he doesn't need crime-fighting to save his soul. But he might find it helpful to discover his potential.

Bruce realizes quickly just how many assumptions he's made about raising a young man. Jason is polite, and he doesn't make many outbursts, and he doesn't snub any of his food or climb the banisters. He does what Bruce and Alfred ask without a fuss, and he's always trying to help out where he can.

And it's… different. Bruce remembers Dick at that age, just starting to get truly unruly and sassy. Challenging Bruce at every opportunity. Causing trouble.

But Jason is gobsmackingly well-behaved.

…It's unnerving.

It's been a week and Bruce is watching Jason closer now. There's something amiss. They're sitting down for breakfast, and Bruce passes Jason the syrup for their waffles. Jason thanks him politely, gives himself a modest serving of it, and then passes it back.

And Bruce watches as Jason eats like a starving man.

He's not fast, he's not wolfing it all down, but his mouth is never empty. He cuts a piece and makes sure he's dabbed up every little bit of syrup he can with it, and as soon as it's in his mouth, he's cutting another.

Bruce used to eat like that. In Nanda Parbat.

"Chum," Bruce says, gentle and quiet. Jason looks up at him instantly, those keen eyes wide. "You can slow down."

Jason hesitates. Then he swallows and nods. "Okay," he says. Bruce watches him. He slows his movements, but otherwise, nothing changes.

They're at the grocery store. Bruce hardly ever does this, but Alfred suggested he go with today. It wasn't the request, but the loaded look Alfred gave him while he said it. And it doesn't take long for Bruce to see what's going on.

Between helping Alfred put things in the cart and asking all kinds of questions about how to tell when a fruit or vegetable are properly ripe, Jason subtly ogles snacks, books, baking supplies, and even an impulse rack of movie character socks. Bruce keeps expecting him to reach out and pick something up, to add it to the cart more or less sneakily, or to even grab something and thrust it up into Bruce's face, chattering animatedly about it. But he just keeps one hand on the cart, and then he looks forward again. Finally, Bruce can't take the quiet disappointment in his chest for one more aisle.

"Chum?" Bruce hums, soft and low, leaning down a bit. Jason snaps his head to look at Bruce, blue eyes wide. "Did you want to get that?"

Jason looks suddenly… sick. He throws an anxious glance at the box of sugary cereal, and then he looks down and shakes his head.

"It would be no trouble," Alfred chimes in gently. Jason shakes his head again. In the motion, Bruce catches a glimpse of his cheeks, blushing in sharp blotches against his paled skin.

"No, thank you," he says in a tiny, tight voice.

Bruce is reading the news off of his phone after dinner, sipping a cup of coffee from the table. Jason insisted on helping Alfred with the dishes before they went downstairs to train.

There's a crash, and the unmistakable sound of porcelain breaking apart. Bruce grunts, looking down to make sure he didn't spill his drink when he flinched, but he doesn't get out of his seat until the next thing he hears.

"Sorry! Sorry-sorry-sorry-sorry!"

Bruce enters the kitchen with all intention of being calm and cool, but he's shocked to see Jason on his knees, Alfred just barely too slow to keep him from grabbing one of the plate shards. Jason flinches his too small hand back with a hiss, and then Alfred and Bruce both are rushing him to his feet and the sink.

Jason is shaking in Bruce's hands as he holds the boy's little shoulder and his little wrist, gently but swiftly putting his little hands under the warm water Alfred runs. Jason's breathing hard, too, and it takes Bruce entirely too long to put the two together.

"Shh, shh, Jay, lad, it's okay," he coos, watching as Alfred tenderly squeezes the cuts, looking for gaps in the bleeding where tiny shards could be hiding. But Jason's still shaking, still hyperventilating, and when Bruce tries to rub his shoulder, it seems to make everything suddenly worse.

Bruce lets go of Jason as if his skin was molten slag. There's a terrible pain in his chest as he looks at Jason's face, his eyes wide, so wide now, and distant. Bruce is staring and Alfred looks questioningly at him, then Jason. His face goes stony, and he moves to stand beside Jason, instead of behind him.

They don't train that night. Bruce lies to Jason, telling him it's because of the cuts on his hands, that he doesn't want to disturb the few bandages. He doesn't feel good about it. He sits at the computer and stares at the home screen.

It's been almost three weeks. Bruce is putting everything together, building a web, a map, a mosaic of all of Jason's little triggers and anxieties.

He grits his teeth, biting on the anger. The painful reality. Of course he knew when he saw Jason, dirty and underweight and glaring up into Batman's face, that he had probably been mistreated. Abused. That he had probably been through things no child should have ever been exposed to.

But to see it… to see his bright smile and hear his little laugh, the kind way he treated every object, how polite he was, how smart he was! And to see every way he had been hurt rippling out into his life, even now…

Bruce gritted his teeth harder, curling his hand into a fist. Jason didn't deserve these ghosts, he didn't deserve this trauma, he didn't deserve that pain. Bruce would take it away from him if he could; he'd soak it all into himself if that's what it took. But there was nothing he could do about the past.

All he could do now was to give Jason the best life he could.

[belamew]

Hey! If you're going to drop off your Pokémon at a day please tell us:

Are they wild caught?

Do they have any dietary restrictions?

Does you Pokémon play nice with others?

Are they a failed service Pokémon that knows all their training but failed because they just do whatever they want, and they're a psychic Pokémon that knows how to get into whatever they want, thus forcing the staff to keep a keen eye on them because they keep breaking into the staff room and eating our lunches in the fridge, and doesn't take any of our scolding seriously because their name is "Waffles" and it's very hard to sound angry when yelling Waffles?

Do they need to take any medication?

[cryptidsofwakemoor]

Chapter 11 - Gratuitous Waffle Violence

Matchstick uses eating utensils to varying degrees of success, while Tikki draws up a roommate contract.

~*~

Mystic

Morning comes again, as it always does.

And with it, the spicy smell of a hot drink, as the catalyst to his waking.

Sitting on the rug next to the couch is another mug of the hot 'cider' Tikki made the previous night- but he can smell something else, too. The scent of the only other hot drink he was familiar with, the one the scientists in the lab carried around sometimes. It was earthy and bitter, but not in an unpleasant way.

Clinking noises from the kitchen, and plap plaps. Tikki must be awake, and making something.

Spooky

Slowly he unfolds himself, lanky legs stretching out from under the blankets followed by his upper torso and arms, his bones popping. He wasn't used to sleeping on something quite this soft... Sprawled out on the couch, he turns his head to try and see what Tikki's doing, but all he sees is her back as she prepares something just out of his view.

He was almost reluctant to get up, but the smell of the cider beckoned, and his mouth was feeling dry. He leaned down and scooped the mug up from the ground, holding it carefully in both hands and slurping noisily.

Mystic

"Wow, your bones sound like glow sticks," Tikki comments, back still turned. "First time you're sleeping on something soft?"

She tried to hide how much the thought pissed her off. Who was responsible for taking care of this kid in the 'lab'? They were shit at their job. Probably on purpose, which made her more angry, which forced her to stuff that feeling away for another molotov cocktail that surely wouldn't detonate later.

"I made you more cider- sounds like it did the job last night," she continues, not waiting for a response. "You should start drinking more regular water after this, though. Can't have you dehydrated, and you'll get more energy back if you eat properly. Which probably means I shouldn't be giving you too much sugar, but ehh..."

Tikki eventually turns back around, this time carrying a platter over to a strange contraption on a rotating spit. She flips it open, and pulls a set of puffy, boxy discs from inside. Loading up a plate with four separate discs, she sets up a second platter with only two, and lathers them in a translucent golden-brown syrup. With a march in her step, still wearing her colorful fish pajamas, she goes back to the living room that seemed to their designated eating space for the moment.

Tikki holds out the plate to him, complete with the utensils he wasn't sure how to use, and sits with her own.

"You're going to want the cutlery for this one," she says, smirking as she sips from her hot drink. "It's very sticky without it. Then we can start talking plans for whatever you're doing."

Spooky

He took the plate and was just about to pick up the food with his other hand, though he stopped dead in his tracks when she warned about it being sticky. Remembering the nectar tubes outside, he was reminded all too well that ‘sticky’ meant having to wash off.

Not really keen on taking another bath so soon, he considered the metal instruments that were given to him along with the disc- a long, flat one and another one with four prongs. Tikki had used the pronged one just yesterday to eat the, uh... theeeee omm... omelet! Yeah, she stabbed it and used it to pick it up. Didn't seem too hard.

He sat down and put the white disc in his lap, wrapping his fingers around the handle of the pronged utensil until he was holding it in his fist. He then lifted it and stabbed it more viciously than necessary into the food disc at top of the stack, attempting to pick the whole thing up with it. The puffy food was soft despite its crispier outside, though, and fell off the utensil, landing with a syrupy plap back on the stack and lightly splattering him in the stuff.

He slouched forward a bit in response, his brow knit together as his eyes regarded the stack with a rather grumpy look.

Mystic

Tikki snorts into her mug, clearing her throat before setting it aside, and picking up her own utensils.

"You have to cut the waffle, first," she explains, taking the fork and poking it, then cutting into it with the knife in the other hand while the plate rests on her lap. "You can use the knife, or the edge of the fork if you're lazy, like me."

Tikki then does just that, using the side of the fork to cut another square of her food. It takes a bit more wiggling, but once it's free, she pops it into her mouth just as easily.

"I'll get you a wet napkin after we eat, don't worry about it."

Spooky

He huffed out a breath and picked up the knife in his other hand, holding it just about as clumsily as he did with the fork. He stabbed the stack with the fork once more, then stabbed his knife into it as well, awkwardly sawing back and forth with it until it scraped noisily against the plate.

He stopped, grimacing at the sound but... there weren't any pieces free yet, so he wrenched the knife to the side and started sawing again.

Yeah, he was definitely going to need a napkin.

At last he managed to get it into smaller pieces... He stabbed those, carefully lifted them up to his mouth, and finally was able to take a bite. His eyes widened. While this whole utensils thing had been a bit more complicated of a way to eat something... It was so fucking worth it! The... bread? was nice and crisp, and the syrup was way better than the sugar water in those flower tubes. Prior annoyance forgotten, he licked his chops and went to stab another piece.

Mystic

Tikki shakes her head in mild amusement, eating some more of her own waffles.

"You might have an easier time if you're a bit more gentle about it," she says, smiling tiredly as she lifts her mug and takes another drink. "Moving harshly is what splattered the syrup. One sec-"

Tikki goes to the kitchen, grabs a napkin from a rung, and soaks it with a bit of hot water. Returning to the couch area, she holds it out to him.

"Here- you can wipe off the syrup with this."

Sitting back down, she hums, finishing her own two waffles in short order.

She waits quietly while he eats, drinking more of her mystery drink.

"So..." she says, finally breaking the silence once he's had time to work through the stack of waffles. "What's your plan going forward, Sticks? Do you have an idea of what you want to do?"

Spooky

He paused and looked up from his plate, his cheeks visibly stuffed with waffle and syrup dripping from his mouth. Then, still wide-eyed, he looked past her, not really at anything in particular.

Plan going forward? He'd been on the run for a while now, technically free even if he was being hunted, but up to this point it felt like his days had to be almost entirely devoted to his continued survival. If it wasn't hiding, it was food and water he was primarily focused on.

Now that those needs were met, though...

Now what...?

His eyes focused on her again, and he looked almost as if he was expecting her to continue on with what she wanted him to do, but no instructions were forthcoming.

Feeling lost, he gave a noncommittal shrug and went back to eating.

Mystic

Tikki hums, frowning a little.

"Okay, maybe that was a bit too broad," she acquiesces, cleaning a bit of syrup off her plate with the fork and nibbling it off the tines, almost literally chewing over her thoughts. "Anywhere in particular you want to go? You don't have to stay in this town if you don't want to- from the sounds of it, you seem pretty scared. I can help, but... I don't know, I guess I just feel bad that you seem so afraid all the time. You shouldn't have to be."

She felt a little bad pointing it out, but it needed to be said. She was observant. She'd seen him running for cover in the trees, acting like exposure to the world for even a fraction of a second meant certain death. Granted, she had no idea which 'lab' was responsible for... this. Whatever they'd done to him. Who knows, they could be near town.

"...it- reminds me of how I used to feel, early on," Tikki explains, scratching at one arm. Her pointed fingers catch lightly on the silver scales that faintly dust over her regular teal ones.

Spooky

With his waffles now gone too, he stuck the end of the fork in his mouth for a minute as he tried to think. When he took it back out again, the tines were red hot.

"Where else...?" He mumbled, looking down at the syrup puddle on his plate. It wasn't very reflective, but he could see the vague circular shadow of his head in it, blocking out the light that would otherwise be making it shine.

He truly didn't know any other place in this world, and it had taken a while just to get used to this one. Maybe it would've been better to just have kept running until he was far away, but even on the outside it seemed like he couldn't really escape. How long would he have to run until he didn't see that logo anymore? Until he knew he was out of their reach?

"They're ehn... ev... everywhere," he added.

Mystic

"...oh."

Tikki seems saddened by this, frowning as she looks down at her own empty plate.

"...I'm sorry," she says. "I know I didn't have anything to do with it, but- well, somebody has to say it."

...

"...who did it?"

Dangerous question to ask. But then, it was dangerous for her to simply have him in her home, and she seemed fine enough breaking that rule.

Spooky

He slid his fork around in the syrup, though he made no move to lick it or anything- it was just movement for movement's sake.

He was clearly hesitant to answer... Not because he didn't trust Tikki by this point, but moreso that he was afraid. Perhaps irrationally so, since it wasn't like it would summon them to just utter the name of it... But knowing that didn't ease his paranoia any. Still... if he was going to stay, she deserved to know, if only so she knew who to avoid too...

After seeming like he wasn't going to say anything, he finally opened his mouth and spoke again, this time in a whisper.

"Aria."

Mystic

...

"...wait."

Tikki says nothing for a moment as the gears turn. She sits up, removing a small tablet device from a pocket on her pajamas. She taps at it for a second, staring at the screen on the front as a light comes on, casting faint illumination on her cheeks.

"Aria, as in- the megacorporation? The company that does appliance and tech delivery, and is a giant monument to the follies of capitalism?" Despite almost none of these words making sense to him, Tikki seems to be getting incensed the deeper she goes, so it must have communicated something accurate to the true Aria conglomerate. "Ugh. Figures it would be a giant business with its fingers in so many pies that it could pay to get away with murder."

It was truly sad how little of an exaggeration that statement was. Tikki had no doubt in her mind that if this kid stayed where he'd been before, and proved not useful enough to whoever deemed the criteria, they could have simply erased him. Be done with him and act like he was never there- against his will or not.

"You can't leave, then," Tikki continues, thinking. "Otherwise, you'll get caught by the vainglorious manchildren with too much padding in their wallets. I'm certainly not going to turn you over to that. So... do you want to stay, then? Again, I don't have much, but... I have a roof and a couch, and I'd like to think I'm pretty good at avoiding the public eye."

Spooky

There were a lot of terms being used that were flying over his head, but as he leaned to try and get a look at her screen, his wide-eyed, anxious reaction upon seeing the logo was all it took to confirm it for her.

He stared down as she scrolled through the results, his shoulders tense.

While he had been developed in their labs, the fact remained that he didn't understand the full scope of what Aria was. How could he? He had seen computers before plenty of times, but he'd never been allowed to use one himself. He'd never had money before, to his knowledge. The smiling, corporate facade of this company was just baffling to him, it painted a friendly picture so alien from the place he was used to that it gave him a severe sense of tonal whiplash just to think about it.

Listening to her, though, was kind of cathartic even if he didn't know some of what she was saying. Her anger was a small comfort to him, and it made him feel less alone in the world to know he had at least one person who had his back in this case.

Even though he was worried about what they would do to her if they found her, let alone what they would do if they found out she'd been hiding him...

At this point, the question wasn't whether or not he wanted to stay- he did, very much so. The question was really more like 'am i willing to risk Tikki's safety?' Tikki was the first and only truly friendly face he'd encountered... that he... didn't struggle to recall from an old memory, anyway.

On one hand, it would be dangerous, but on the other... He was a weapon. If they did track him down, or did anything to hurt Tikki... He would make them hurt too.Or worse.

Looking back up at her with a more resolute expression, he nodded.

He wanted to stay.

Mystic

Tikki smiles, pleased with this response- and kind of relieved.

“Oh good,” she exhales. “I wanted to give you the choice, but I won’t lie, I was probably going to worry about you a lot if you left.”

Tikki sets her plate aside and claps her hands together.

“Then, I guess we gotta draw up a roommate contract. Y’know- lay down some terms so we’re both comfortable.”

She leans over to rifle through a drawer of the cabinet set under the silent television, removing a yellow paper pad and pencil. Snapping the paper out flat, she places it on her knees and starts writing, talking while she does so.

“I’ve never had to share a space with someone that wasn’t a sibling before, much less on land, but I think I can handle that. Since this is my house, here are my terms: One, obviously you don’t have a job, so you can’t pay rent. That’s fine- but you’re going to have to help me around the house. Managing a space for two people is a challenge on my own, and in the process, I can teach you how to take care of yourself. Like laundry, cooking, etcetera... I’m not going to be your maid, but you’re not going to be mine, either. Could be helpful in an emergency, like if I get um- indisposed. Basically I’m just saying we help each other, okay? Two, you don’t sell out my uh-“

Tikki scratches behind her neck.

”-medical condition to any authorities. I’m not even normal by non-human standards, but hey, neither of us are very normal, are we? It’s like we’re made for each other,” she jokes.

Tikki finishes writing her notes, tapping the pencil on the paper before her gaze slides over to him.

“Does that sound fair? Anything you’d like to add, any rules you want to lay down?”

Spooky

The corners of his mouth quirked up a little at her relieved response, though it quickly turned to a look of surprise when she grabbed a paper and started talking about a 'contract'. That was a word he'd heard before, he was pretty sure, but like most things he overheard in random conversation snippets from scientists, he didn't have enough context to really understand what it meant.

Listening to Tikki though, he was able to figure out that it seemed to be some form of agreement. Wasn't sure why it had to be written down though... Maybe so both people wouldn't forget it?

Idly licking the syrup from his plate as he watched her write, he did his best to follow what she was saying- he wasn't sure what a rent was or what 'indisposed' meant- but he was able to grasp the main idea of it. 'Help each other' seemed reasonable enough.

Second part seemed obvious enough to him that it didn't really need to be written. After all, he did already promise that he would keep the secret! But if she felt better writing it on the paper too, well, that would be alright.

It sounded fair enough, so he gave a nod to that question, though when asked if there was anything he wanted to add, any rules he wanted... He got that far-off look in his eyes again and set the plate back down in his lap, immediately paralyzed by choice. While in the lab there were a lot of decisions he wished he could make in regards to his living situation, like no more ‘resilience testing’ chambers or shackles, or no more jabbing metal shit into his back... It didn't seem like Tikki's house had anything of the sort, and he'd only been here for one night.

What could he want that would apply to this place? He glanced over at Slithers as if to see if he had any ideas, but as Slithers was an inanimate plushie, no suggestions were forthcoming.

He gave an awkward shrug to Tikki. There was only one thing he could think of that was super obvious, but if they were gonna write everything down, might as well.

"Hh... Hide me... from Aria," he said.

Mystic

Tikki nods, not questioning the request in the slightest.

“Good, we’re on the same page.” She puts a line on the paper between her points and his, writing ‘Stick’s Rules’ above his section. “We can add more if you think about anything later.”

Tikki finished writing, and signed it with a looping scribble of some sort.

“I do have a guest room,” Tikki explains, sheepish all of the sudden, “but it’s- not furnished. I never had a reason to buy a second bed, and I was… kinda using it as my indoor hiding place when I change? So unfortunately that room isn’t usable right now, cuz it’s just kinda an empty box. Maybe sometime soon, though, once I save up enough money, we can set you up in there? Apologies in advance for any damage to the room. It’ll take a while, so you can have this living room as your space until that day. I don’t use it much anyway, the fireplace dries out my scales.”

Spooky

He blinked, perking up a little bit in intrigue. A room of his own?

His cell back at the lab had been very sparse save for restraints, and it was more part of a larger room with heavy duty viewing windows separating them. Needless to say it hardly felt like a space to call his own, not with so many eyes on him.

He would gladly take an empty cameraless box over that, at least it offered some privacy. In the meantime, though, the living room seemed nice.

...Why was it called a living room, though? Didn't seem like it was alive, any more so than the rest of the building at least. Weird...

Still, the thought of staying in it was kind of exciting- it was warm, had a lot of stuff to look at, there were good smells from the kitchen, and he liked the fireplace. It was probably a good thing he didn't have any scales to worry about drying out.

...That did remind him, though. Tikki was a fish lady. Weren't fish supposed to live in water? There was an aquarium at the lab. He'd only seen it a few times in passing, but it was a rare spot of colors and visual interest in an otherwise mostly monochrome environment, and he probably could have watched it for hours if they'd have let him. There were fish in Tikki's room too, though that tank wasn't nearly as big, nor populated.

The only water he'd ever seen Tikki in, though, had been the pond outside. Did she normally go in there when it wasn't iced over? Hm...

That in turn made him wonder about the place she said she was from before. Picking up Slithers and looking down at its beady lil' eyes, he thought for a moment before asking: "what's... Sea?"

Mystic

Tikki blinks. Her eyebrows raise when she realizes what he was asking.

“Oh- the sea! It’s a large body of saltwater, just a few miles away, also called the ocean. You can’t drink it, but the water is home to a lot of colorful fish, animals, and plants. My people live there- in your tongue we’re called ‘mermaids’. There are some of us that can live in rivers, but most of us live deep in the ocean. It’s my-“

She pauses, the cheer dissipating for a brief moment. When she speaks again, it’s muted.

“-was my home.”

Spooky

It didn't escape his notice how her expression seemed to light up when she started describing it, but faded so quickly at the mention of her leaving. It was... very clear she hadn't wanted to go. Something had forced her to leave. Whatever the reason was, it probably prevented her from going back, too...

Remembering Slithers's purpose, though, he lifted the plush up and nudged her shoulder with it, trying to hand it back to her.

"...don't like water..." he mumbled, sliding his hand over the nape of his neck. "liked... watchin' fish, though." His voice was still weak, but it was at least sounding a little better today, and not as much like he'd been gargling gravel.

Mystic

Tikki glances over in confusion as she feels something squish against her. Then she smiles, seeing the plush. She takes it and gives it a small hug.

“Thanks,” she mumbles. “You’re a good kid.”

A sigh.

…after a few moments, she places the plush back on the couch next to him. She appreciated the gesture.

“Yeah? Fish like watching us, too,” Tikki says with a chuckle. “You gave the guppies a big spook when you woke us up. They’ve been babbling about you all morning. They think you’re some kind of giant walking eel.”

Tikki stretches her back, grunting as the vertebrae pop a little.

“Any other questions you got for me? Since we’re laying all cards on the table now, might as well, I guess. You already know my biggest secret.”

Spooky

There it was again, that odd chuffing kind of laugh, the best he could manage currently. Eels were those noodly ones with all the teeth, right? He only really saw them poking their heads out from rocks in their tank for the most part, but they looked kind of goofy. The mental image of him poking his head out of a rock and opening and closing his mouth a lot just struck him as way too silly not to laugh, despite the state of his voice.

"Tell 'em sorry," he rasped, coughing a little from the laugh. He didn't mean to spook them, but at this point he was kind of used to that reaction.

That did remind him, though, of something else odd he noticed the night before. "...I couldn't h- hear 'em..." he whispered, trying to give his voice a break. He'd seen them swim towards Tikki, and they seemed to be the ones to wake her... but surely enough, he'd only heard the bubbling of the filter at most.

Mystic

"Oh don't worry, I did," Tikki giggles, sipping from her mug. "Guppies aren't the brightest, and thought your glowing eyes meant you were a predator there to eat them or something."

Hearing him whisper and cough, she reaches over and pats him on the shoulder.

"It's okay, take it easy on your throat. You'll probably need several more days of resting your throat and drinking cider or tea with honey to heal whatever damage you may have."

Tikki takes his mug, which was now empty, and goes to refill it in the kitchen.

"I'd be surprised if you could hear them!" Tikki says idly. "It's a mermaid thing- we can talk to fish, and understand them. They're not always intelligent, it can depend on the individual, or even type of fish. Usually larger fish are smarter- bigger brains to absorb more information, n' all. Anything that's not a fish, like turtles or otters, are harder to communicate with; not quite the same language."

Spooky

Huh... That sounded pretty nice, talking to animals... even if only a certain type of 'em. He'd seen a few animals at the lab, and plenty more of them while roughing it outside, but they didn't seem to like him. They usually ran away before he could even get close, which made sense for the wild ones, but even the domestic ones that were perfectly fine with being around humans seemed to freak out when they saw him. Which sucked, because they were cute, and it seemed like it would be nice to pet them...

His gaze drifted down to his hands, and his eyes fell half-lidded as he sighed. Yeah, right... Probably better that he didn't, he'd probably just crush or burn them by accident or something...

He didn't notice Tikki returning until a refilled mug entered his view, and it almost made him jump for a second.

Mystic

"I don't blame you for being skittish," Tikki says, somber as she hands him the refilled mug. "I don't know your full story, but I can imagine you've been through some hell. It's okay if you need time, there's no shame in it."

Leaving him to his drink, she picks up the contract and folds it, tucking it into a pocket on her pajamas. Hands now mostly free, she grabs his abandoned plate and stacks it on top of her own to go clean.

"Which reminds me- you've been kinda running around in tatters for a while." Tikki looks over her shoulder from the sink. "You need clothes besides- y'know- a blanket. Are you fine with hand-me-downs? Just nod yes or shake your head for no, to save your voice."

Spooky

He looked over his shoulder and tilted his head at the term 'hand-me-downs', having never heard it before, but... he did know what clothes were, and while the blanket had been doing okay at keeping him warm, it was a little annoying to have to hold it around him with his hand to keep it from falling down...

Also, a quick look at the shorts he'd been in since before he'd even escaped- now threadbare in places and torn in others- told him they were definitely not going to last much longer.

Not wanting to go completely without, he looked back up at her and nodded quickly, his face faintly glowing in embarrassment.

Mystic

Tikki accepts that answer.

“Awesome. I’ll see what I have that fits- might be a little big for even you, since I’ll need to pick something not form-fitting, but you’ll grow into them.” She gives him a quick, wry smile. “As if you’re not already a beanpole, heh.”

True to her word, once Tikki finishes with kitchen cleanup, and walks back off toward her room and disappears again for a few minutes. He can hear the distant clatter of moving drawers and the creak of hinges on closet doors, along with a faint plastic clicking noise. Eventually, she emerges with a small armload of cloth.

“Got some sweatpants and leisure shirts that’ll probably be fine,” she says, rifling through them before lightly tossing them in his direction. They land on the couch cushion with a pff. “Mostly just comfort clothes. Go ahead and use the bathroom whenever you want to change.”

Spooky

He made a face at the beanpole comment as she turned back around to finish up in the kitchen. Beanpole? What does that even mean??

When Tikki left to get the clothes, he looked himself over front and back, trying to figure out what she meant. The moment he heard her returning, however, he quickly stopped and pretended to just be chillin' out with his arms loosely crossed instead.

When she unceremoniously tossed the clothes on the couch next to him, he was quick to start checking them out. On top of the pile was a big shirt that, when held up, had a drawing of an orange animal sleeping in a red box, with a blue blanket draped over them, and the words 'I HATE MONDAYS' on it.

He blinked, before shrugging and tossing it back on the clothes pile. He then scooped the whole thing up in his arms and went off to the bathroom to get dressed.

~*~

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[kradeelav]

so i've got two strips going in parallel.

(this is a long 'talking shop' post about how both comics are diverging in visual style for different reasons.)

the first strip (I'm calling it 'combat instructor' for now) is the gunter/corrin porn comic i've wanted to do for ages, lol. me fucking around with hentai tropes, but also having fun subverting some Stuff with making the fanservice about him.

fanservice, see? :3c

keen eyes will notice i really like the textured inky style i used in 'dead is calling' - it was quick, it's got a slick dynamic sinister masculine quality, but with enough shades of "regular manga inking" so i'm re-using that for this one to block in the characters especially in the latter half of <combat instructor>.

(you see how deceptively simple that style is in the below two images from 'dead is calling' - it's actually very hellsing inspired with the high contrast almost graphically "flat" quality.)

that wasn't really working for the few backgrounds in this new strip though, which i kind of needed to just... fade as a more neutral color. so i started messing with my watercolor brushes, which are working so far here - i think the inherent messiness of the watercolors-as-shading will mesh well with the inking, and the surprisingly more intimate parts of eros. (rendering boob shine, gonads, etc)

pause on that.

this other strip... really should be titled 'the mortifying ordeal of being Known'.

it's uh. haha. it's about my self insert in fe: heroes (spin off gacha game) and meeting a few of the characters. (it's so much more than that with the emotional core - i ain't gonna explain everything but yumijoshi will Get This one on a level everyone else won't - but that's essentially what happens.)

it's also much less serious than the 'combat instructor' strip in a lot of ways. a good half of it is ribbing fe: heroes' gameplay (ultimately being a gacha/gambling game) but the latter half ... deals with a lot of delicate emotional undercurrents? more so than the other one which is just straight up uncomplicated porn.

so i waffled on the style for the longest time, feeling like it needed a much "lighter" (almost shoujo/romantic/dreamy style) - but trying to do precise delicate thin lines almost murdered my momentum on the YRMR epilouge strip. (gotta keep the momentum going.)

on the other hand, i was going fast enough with the watercolor approach for the backgrounds in the 'combat instructor' strip and wondered if the looseness couldn't be applied to the whole panel here, almost like scalera's work - the above is a great proof of concept to see how it works in action. watercolors have that soft dreaminess that works with the subject matter (emotional distance vs closeness etc), and more importantly, i can draft out the basic value/dynamic shapes quickly without getting hung up on specific parts.

i was getting stuck on anna (ponytail lady) in the above part when it was just the lines, but being able to block out the values of her hair vs the other character's outfit vs the background in five minutes is ... enormous.

that's the easy part.

hard part is making this consistent for ~20 pages :D;

[elkdiaries]

stranger things summer headcanons because tis the season

mike is that stubborn idiot who halfway gets heatstroke from wearing twelve layers of clothing in the 90 degree heat.

lucas and max are carnival CHAMPIONS. they go on all the rides, eat all the cotton candy. once they’re in there, they won’t leave until it closes for the night.

will really likes swimming. however, he prefers the lake over the pool, because it’s less crowded. he ends up teaching swimming lessons to all the toddlers over break, and mothers love him to death for how gentle he is.

dustin and erica have a weekly tradition of loitering around family video on saturdays. it’s one of their busiest days, so their annoyance has put (the very prone to distraction) robin and steve’s job’s in jeopardy too many times. keith watches them with a very keen eye, once proclaiming to dustin that he’ll have his head if there’s any further funny business.

at the beginning of the warmer months, max likes to get an extremely short haircut to avoid the heat.

mike’s incessant boredom always has him picking up new hobbies, or enhancing the ones he has over the summer. he’ll learn to make friendship bracelets, or to skateboard with max’s spare (on the off chance she lets him), or write half a novel.

el became a daily patron of their local ice cream store the very second that max explained to her what a waffle cone was.

lucas once caught dustin watching my little pony with his sister, and while his confusion and nonstop laughter was prominent at first, he was very quickly thrown into the viewing. the three now meet up as often as they can to watch together.

mike works at the movie theatre, partly for the money, but mostly because he likes knowing first which new horror and fantasy movies are coming to hawkins. his vast knowledge delights will, and improves their movie visits together.

erica built a treehouse a little ways away from her house, which is the frequent location of midnight ghost stories galore with her friends.

the byers’ yard is vast and empty, the perfect location for bonfires. whenever possible, the whole party bands together to throw a bonfire bash, complete with jonathan’s killer smore’s.

while dustin goes to camp know where in june, lucas attends a basketball camp. there, his investment in the game grows, and he’s able to make a ton of friends who show him awesome tricks and techniques.

[wonies-cheeks]

Mint Choco | k.sn

Genre: fluff

W/C: 1.4k

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

The sun was shining brightly as you and your boyfriend, Sunoo, strolled down the bustling streets of your favorite neighborhood. It was the perfect day for a sweet treat, and both of you had agreed that ice cream was the way to go. You couldn't help but smile as you walked hand in hand, the warm breeze ruffling your hair and the sound of laughter filling the air.

Sunoo's excitement was palpable as you approached the charming little ice cream parlor. It was one of those old-fashioned places with a striped awning and a cheerful sign that read "Sweet Treats." Sunoo had been talking about getting ice cream all day, and you knew exactly why. He had a particular fondness for mint chocolate chip, a flavor you weren't too keen on.

As you entered the parlor, the cool air and the sweet scent of freshly made waffle cones greeted you. The walls were lined with colorful tubs of ice cream, each one more tempting than the last. Sunoo's eyes lit up as he scanned the options, and you could already see him zeroing in on his beloved mint choco.

"Come on, you have to try it this time," Sunoo said, his voice filled with determination as he pulled you towards the counter. "I promise you'll like it."

You sighed, knowing how stubborn he could be when it came to his favorite things. "Sunoo, you know I'm not a fan of mint choco. It tastes like toothpaste."

He pouted, giving you those puppy dog eyes that always melted your resolve. "Please, just one bite. For me?"

You couldn't resist him when he looked at you like that. Reluctantly, you nodded. "Fine, one bite. But if I don't like it, you're getting me something else."

Sunoo's face lit up with a triumphant smile. "Deal!"

He quickly ordered a scoop of mint chocolate chip in a waffle cone and a scoop of your favorite flavor, strawberry, in a cup. As you waited for your orders, Sunoo's excitement was contagious, and you found yourself looking forward to trying the ice cream, if only to see him so happy.

When the ice cream was ready, Sunoo handed you the cup of strawberry and held up his cone of mint choco triumphantly. "Ready for the best ice cream experience of your life?"

You rolled your eyes playfully but couldn't help but smile. "Let's see about that."

Sunoo scooped up a generous bite of his mint choco and held it out to you. "Open wide!"

With a mix of reluctance and curiosity, you opened your mouth and let him feed you the spoonful. The cold, creamy texture hit your tongue first, followed by the refreshing mint flavor and the rich chocolate chips. To your surprise, it wasn't as bad as you remembered. In fact, it was quite enjoyable.

You chewed thoughtfully and then swallowed, looking at Sunoo with raised eyebrows. "Okay, it's not bad."

Sunoo's eyes sparkled with delight. "See? I knew you'd like it!"

Before you could respond, he leaned in and planted a sweet, tender kiss on your lips. It was a kiss filled with happiness and affection, and it made your heart flutter. His lips were cool from the ice cream, and you tasted the faint hint of mint and chocolate, which made the kiss all the more memorable.

When he pulled back, you were both smiling, your faces inches apart. "You always know how to make things better," you said softly.

"And you make everything worth it," he replied, his voice just as gentle.

As you continued enjoying your ice cream, Sunoo couldn’t help but tease you. "I told you mint choco was amazing. Maybe next time you'll trust my impeccable taste."

You chuckled and nudged him playfully. "Impeccable taste? Let's not get ahead of ourselves. One good flavor doesn't make you an ice cream connoisseur."

Sunoo gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "How dare you question my refined palate! I'll have you know I have an excellent track record with ice cream."

"Sure, sure," you teased back. "But remember the time you insisted that vanilla with ketchup was a gourmet combo?"

He winced, recalling the failed experiment. "Okay, I'll admit that was a misstep. But mint choco is different, and you liked it!"

"I did, didn't I?" you admitted with a smile, taking another bite of your strawberry ice cream. "But don't think that means I'll be switching my favorite flavor anytime soon."

Sunoo grinned mischievously. "We'll see about that. Maybe I'll convert you to mint choco one scoop at a time."

"You're welcome to try," you replied, matching his playful tone. "But don't get too confident."

The two of you continued to banter back and forth, the conversation filled with laughter and light-hearted teasing. You felt a warm sense of contentment as you shared these moments with Sunoo, enjoying the simple pleasure of each other's company.

After finishing your ice cream, you decided to take a leisurely walk through the nearby park. The path was lined with blooming flowers, and the gentle rustling of leaves created a soothing backdrop. Sunoo held your hand as you strolled, occasionally swinging your intertwined fingers and pointing out interesting sights along the way.

"Look at that squirrel," he said, nodding towards a fluffy-tailed creature darting up a tree. "It's probably searching for more mint choco lovers to join its secret squirrel ice cream club."

You giggled, shaking your head. "You and your mint choco obsession. I wouldn't be surprised if you started a club yourself."

"Not a bad idea," he mused, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "But you'd be my first recruit. We could have matching mint choco uniforms and everything."

"Oh no, count me out," you laughed. "I'm sticking to strawberry."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the park, you found a cozy bench overlooking a serene pond. You both sat down, and Sunoo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. The world seemed to slow down as you watched the ducks glide across the water, and you felt a deep sense of peace.

"You know," Sunoo said softly, breaking the comfortable silence. "I'm really glad we did this today. It's been perfect."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with affection. "Me too, Sunoo. Thank you for making it special."

He leaned down and pressed another sweet kiss to your lips, this one lingering a bit longer, filled with tenderness and warmth. When he pulled back, his eyes held a soft, loving gaze that made your heart flutter.

"Let's make a promise," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To always find time for moments like these, no matter how busy life gets."

You smiled, your heart brimming with love and happiness. "I promise."

As the sky darkened and the stars began to twinkle above, you sat there in each other's arms, savoring the magic of the evening. The memory of the ice cream parlor, the playful banter, and the sweet kisses would stay with you, a cherished reminder of the love and joy you shared with Sunoo. And while you might not become a full-fledged mint choco convert, you knew that trying new things with him by your side made every experience sweeter.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*

[bonezone44]

linecook!Ezra ficlet (18+)

Linecook!Ezra x afab!Reader

word count: 873.

Tags: no smut. Just some good ol’ fashioned Waffle House dirty talk. Implied oral (f), implied past somno fingering, implied past p-in-v.

a/n: I've got 1000 other fics I should be writing but then this came out and I know it ends abruptly, but I'm trying to get my brain going.

+++++

Ezra, sitting on an overturned bucket in the back of the Waffle House, spits wisdom to his young cohorts on his cigarette break. They gather around him with eager eyes and hopeful smiles while he shares tales of the beforetimes (before the current manager was hired). He feels like the village elder, continuing an oral tradition that began long before the Waffle House existed. Back when it was a plot of land on the side of the highway that the local farmers would use to set up their vegetable stands every day.

When his tale is done, so is his cigarette. He snubs it out on the wall behind him and tosses the butt in an ever-present, faded, empty can of Barq’s root beer.

"You want another one?" asks one of the new waitresses, holding out a pack of Marlboro 100s that seemed to materialize from thin air with how swiftly she acquired it from her purse. Her fingernails are chewed down to the bone. She's nineteen years old and keen for Ezra's attention and approval.

She’s cute, he thinks. But he knows she’s too young and inexperienced for a man with his tastes. He wasn’t nearly as patient and accommodating as he had been in previous years. And none of those passing thoughts matter much anyhow since he has you.

He smiles, though, and continues to be polite. "I appreciate the offer, but I find myself satisfied with that particular poison for today." He pulls out a small joint of marijuana from his pocket. "On to the next one," he drawls with a smirk and the group laughs. They watch quietly as he lights it up with a flick of his BIC and takes a long, deep inhale. He holds it for as long as his aging lungs can muster and releases it above him in a thick cloud of smoke.

Then the back door flies open and you poke your head out.

You scoff at the sight. "Ezra! What are you doin back here? I need you on the grill!" You wave your hand, swatting the weed smoke away.

"I am holding court with my brethren," he turns to you and answers coolly.

"You're not gettin paid to hold court!" you yell. "I got hungry people in here!"

"Alright, alright." He licks his finger and thumb and pinches out the cherry of his joint. He looks to his audience. "Duty calls," he says with a smile and stands up. He lazily makes his way inside while you stand there and hold the door open for him.

—

You look out at the group. "What are y'all doin here? Y'all don't even work today!"

They offer their excuses, but you don't care to hear. You shoo them off and tell them to go home.

Back inside, Ezra's washing his hands at the sink. You two are hidden from view.

"I got people starin at me wonderin when their food's gonna get started!" you grouse.

"And they will be fed shortly," Ezra responds casually–as if he has all the goddamn time in the world. He dries his hands with a few paper towels and tosses them in the trash.

Your shoulders fall. "I'm exhausted, Ezra," you whine, begging for sympathy. "My feet hurt. I smell like shit. I don't wanna deal with these people anymore."

"C'mere, starlette." He wraps one arm around your waist and pulls you close. His other hand slaps your asscheek, hard. You gasp and jump and it brings your bodies closer. He looks at you adoringly. "Your shift is nearly done and when my relief arrives--" He slides one hand down the center of your ass. "--I will hurry myself to your place of residence post-haste--" His fingers press against your most sensitive area through the thin, polyester fabric of your work pants. You whimper. "--and devour your sex until I am smothered and covered in your juices.”

You close your eyes and fight back a smile. Ezra is the only man you’ve been with to make good on his promises–well, when it came to sex, at least. “I’ll probably be asleep by the time you get there.” 

“That’s never stopped me before,” he murmurs to you with hazy eyes.

You feel something hard press against you. Your whole body warms to the memory of waking up with Ezra heavy on top of you, fingers sliding in and out of your cunt. You melt against him like a slice of cheese. “Shit, Ezra,” you sigh. You wanna pull him into the manager’s office again like you did on your third shift. Leaned over the desk with your pants pulled just below your ass and Ezra’s apron tossed over his shoulder. You were tossing your ass back just as hard as he was slamming his hips. Never even got caught.

“Anybody workin here?!” a voice bellows from the dining room.

You immediately pull back from Ezra, though he is loath to let you go.

“I’m coming!” you shout.

“Yes, you will be,” mutters Ezra.

You grab a stray rag from the counter and toss it in his face with a frustrated huff. You straighten your clothes and rush to the front, doing your best to make peace with the upset guest.

+++++

[justagalwhowrites]

I also have a pretty weird question? I thought about it occasionally for some reason and I'm just curious. (It also hurts my heart sometimes but that just might be when I'm on my period lmao).

Do you have any thoughts on Bambi's family from before the outbreak? Like if any of her brothers made it or are alive behind the scenes? I'm also curious how it would be if (even in an alternate universe or something) she gets to see them again. I feel like they would be so proud of her finding herself her own family. I'm so sorry if this was a weird ask 😭.

-��

Hi again, peachy keen bestie!

Not a weird question AT ALL.

I actually waffled quite a bit on whether or not I wanted to have a definitive answer to whether or not her family survived the outbreak. I considered having Richie show up in Jackson but that seemed a bit outlandish all things considered?

Bambi's parents I think definitely died pretty quick. Her dad would have thrown himself into the fray with the ranch hands not realizing what was happening, just trying to calm people down and get shit under control, and he'd have either been bitten or torn apart really fast. Her mom just did not have it in her to hack it on her own in that environment so I think she would have gone quick, too.

Mostly based on logistics, I think people working on large scale ranches like Bambi's father's ranch (where Richie was also working so I don't think things went great for him but he was very capable and a bit of a lothario, he may have been out with a woman and been fine) would have been pretty fucked. Food would get eaten through quickly so they probably got tainted flour, everyone eats at about the same time from the same contaminated stock, everyone turns all at once - similar to Bambi's experience. Bambi just got very, very lucky.

Of all her family, Brendan I think had the best shot at making it. He'd moved in with his fiancee at that point - so not in close quarters with a bunch of people turning all at once - and they were both very capable. It's possible they did something similar to Bambi, setting up in the wilderness and making a go of it on their own. I could definitely see Brendan naming his first daughter after his baby sister if that's what they did.

Buttttt I do love the idea of them seeing her again and getting a chance to see her be happy with her family in Jackson so... see a little Drabble below :)

The girl is what gave Joel pause.

She would have, anyway, as young as she was out in the wilds of Wyoming when he ran into her while out with Ellie on patrol but when she turned toward him, something in her face struck him.

She looked like you.

She gasped when she saw him, her hands going up and her eyes going wide.

"S'OK," Joel said, his hands up, too. "Not gonna hurt you. Just you out here?"

"Dad!" she shrieked, high pitched and panicked and Joel flinched. "Dad, help!"

Joel turned to Ellie, on her own horse beside him and gave her a look. She rolled her eyes but put her hands up, too, as the two of them waited for whoever was about to come out from the brush near the girl to appear.

He didn't need to wait long to see who it was, a man who looked a bit older than you - and also a LOT like you - all but bursting through the trees, rifle raised. He threw the girl behind him and leveled the gun at Joel who just kept his hands up.

"Joel!" Ellie hissed, her hands still up too.

"Sit tight, baby girl," Joel said, watching the man closely. He had your eyes, your nose, the same determined set to his jaw. "It's OK."

"Not lookin' for trouble," the man called out. "Just passin' through."

"Don't mean you any harm," Joel called back, the girl - 13, 14 years old, he thought - peering out from behind her father. "Just from a settlement, not far from here..."

"Good for you," the man snapped.

"We've got a good set up there," Joel continued, ignoring him. "Safe with women and children, too."

"Not interested," he said. "We'll be out of your territory soon."

Joel looked at him, at those eyes that were so fucking familiar, and decided to try.

"Your name Richie, by chance?" he asked. "Or Brendan?"

The man blinked in shock before slowly, carefully, lowering his gun.

"What'd you just say?"

"Is your name Richie or Brendan?" Joel asked again.

"Dad?" The girl asked, stepping around and looking up at him.

"Richie," he said. "How... how the hell'd you know that?"

Joel smiled a little, feeling choked up.

"You and your girl there just happen to look a hell of a lot like my wife," he said. "She was working up this way when everything went to shit, she had brothers before, brothers named Richie and Brendan. She's told me a lot about..."

"What's your wife's name?" He asked, and Joel answered, first middle and last.

"That was her name, anyway," Joel said. "Last name is Miller, now. And everyone where we are calls her Bambi."

Richie laughed his voice a little wet.

"Bambi?" He said. "Shit, hard time seein' that."

"It's his fault," Ellie said, nodding to Joel. "He found her hurt in the woods and she wouldn't tell him her name..."

"She had these big eyes," Joel said. "Looked like a deer. If you and your girl want to come back with us, you can see her. I know... I know she'd really love that."

He paused, something in him apparently still skeptical, but Ellie started talking before Joel had a chance to try to convince him again.

"She trained these horses," she said. "She told me she started breaking horses when she was like 13 or something, and that she used to ride in rodeos and that your mom made her do cotillion which she fuck... sorry... freaking hated."

Richie laughed, a tear glistening on his cheek.

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, she really did."

Ellie joined Joel on his horse and they put Richie and his daughter - who he named after you - on the back of hers. Richie told him what had happened over the last 25 years, that he'd been on his own for a while, roaming much of the southwest dodging raiders and infected alike. He'd eventually settled down with a woman and they'd had a life together for a while but she got bitten a few years back, leaving just him and his daughter. They were making their way toward Seattle, their paths crossing with Joel and Ellie's patrol totally by chance.

He'd assumed that you hadn't made it, that there wasn't a chance in hell of ever seeing you again. Much like you'd assumed with him.

Joel felt an odd sense of pride, bringing your brother and niece into town. You were on the council now and your work with the horses in town had contributed more than your fair share to the community. Much of how Jackson had come to thrive in recent years was because of you and he liked showing those things off as the four of them made their way to the stables.

Joel heard you before he saw you, calling out instructions to what sounded like a beginner rider. He led the horses to the gate to the paddock and watched as you worked with one of the kid in town who was getting big enough to start learning.

"There you go," you said, beaming at him. "Good job, see? You got it. Don't let your legs fall open, gotta keep 'em on her sides there..."

Olivia nodded to the gate and you noticed Joel first, giving him a smile that damn near made his heart crack open with love for you. But then you noticed Richie, your face falling, mouth hanging open in shock as you all but jumped off your horse before racing across the paddock, Richie doing the same.

The two of you met in the middle, more colliding than actually hugging, your arms around his neck and his around your waist, the two of you clinging to each other. Joel dismounted, too, helping your niece down from her horse and bringing her over to meet you.

"You're alive?" You asked, separated from your brother now but your hands still on his shoulders, your eyes looking over and over him. "All this time, you've been alive?"

"Yeah," he sniffed, smiling and crying all the same. "So have you."

The two of them got set up to stay with you and Joel for the night, introducing them to Savvy and telling him about your life here. You glossed over so much of what happened with Mitchum but Joel didn't press it.

"I can't believe it," Richie said quietly, eventually. "That you're here, that you're OK... hell, you're more than OK, you've got a whole family and people and..."

"Yeah," you laughed, sounding a little choked up. "I know, I can't believe it, either. And now you're here, too."

"Leave it to you to survive the apocalypse and somehow still find a way to get thrown off horses," he said and you laughed. "But you did more than that, too. You built a whole family."

"Yeah," you smiled, reaching for Joel. He took your hand in his, kissing your fingers. "I guess I did."

[chans5oive]

Puppy love

seungmin x reader

genre: fluff fluff and more fluff (with a hint of more fluff)

warnings: mentions of injury, use of pet names and lots of scolding from Seungmin

Word count: 639

Summary: Seungmin had puppy like looks and you had the personality of a puppy. Together? One giant puppy.

A/n: i ac rlly like this one 😭

▼・ᴥ・▼ 

You met Seungmin through friends. It was at a party that both friends had attended and so inevitably both of you attended to as well. You walked up to your friend who was talking with Seungmin. You had glitter in your hair and your clothes were a little array from dancing jumping. You said hi to your friend and was having a conversation with them and Seungmin. Seungmin thought you were absolutely adorable! He had never met anyone like you! You were so giggly and bubbly! From that day on he pined over you for months. Every single time he saw you he was shy and giggly, laughing at every cute thing you did. He was certain he had to ask you out or at least just confess. “Oh my gosh date her minnie” came from the older members. He was going to!! He just wasn’t sure how…

Until the next mutual friend party, he knew you were going to attend and thats when he would confess! And just as he suspected..you were, you looked glittery as ever.

“hey y/n” He said feeling an overwhelming sense of shyness.

“Hiiii Seungmin!!” you said practically bouncing off the walls. “Hey listen um- i- um have to tell you something” he was so nervous maybe it was your overwhelmingly ecstatic personality or the fact he has had a huge crush on you for months.

“so ok um ihavelikeyouforevernowandihavewantedtotellyouthisforeverandiamnowjustrelisingihavelareadyconfessedbut-“ he was rambling on now and just before he could waffle a little longer you placed a kiss on his lips before pulling away and giggling.

“I like you to :))” you said before chuckling.

▼・ᴥ・▼

Fast forward about 2 months, your officially dating Seungmin. You have decided to visit him in the studio. “MINNIE!!!!” You scream before running into the room. However, you trip over your own feet and go flying. Chan and Changbin cringe at the accident. Seungmin in a panic, rushed to your side. You got up, stuck a thumbs up to Chan and Changbin before engulfing Seungmin in a hug. Completely gobsmacked Seungmin repeatedly asked if you were ok and looked you up and down. He stopped when he noticed you knee which was bleeding. He rolled his eyes and ran to get the first aid kit, he then sat you down on the sofa and kneeled down before your leg. He then went on to scold you.

“ya y/n you need to be more careful you know your clumsy and fall over a lot especially when the floors are slippy!” He said whilst peeling a plaster.

“im sorry min” you said lowering your head. Seungmin looked up noticing your look. You looked just like a hurt puppy!

“aw y/n im sorry i know you were just excited” he said kissing your knee and helping you up. “Now tell me about your day” he said with a smile.

▼・ᴥ・▼

You were always so excited by anything. It was one of the many qualities Seungmin loved about you. Except you can be a little exhausting at the best of times. If you ever saw something interesting you would run straight to it. You and Seungmin were walking in the park. He stopped just for a moment to fix his outfit when he turned to your and you were no where to be seen! Seungmin is a tad bit worried as he cannot see you anywhere. Until he saw your matching hat (that he bought for the both of you) bobbing through other couples and families. “Y/N!” He calls your name over and over whilst jogging towards you. He finally caught up to you and grabbed your wrist, panting trying to catch his breath up.

“Where the hell did you go?!?!” He scolded.

“There was a pretty butterfly :]” you smiled. Seungmin sighed, re-taking your hand and refusing to let go. Ever.

A/n: the way ive written this y/n im not too keen on but i hope you guys enjoy and if there are any other notes or want me to write this with another member let me know!!

Taglist: @mazeinthemiroh @jisungsdaydreamer @fantasy2wonderland @anyamaris @chocotonez

If you want to be added just drop a comment or an ask!

[charmwasjess]

ill gladly help you procrastinate u know that

23 & 17 👀

Boli, you are simply magnificent. I've spent upwards of thirty minutes not working while I was writing this up. 17. there should be more of this type of fic/art This isn't a problem so much as a good sign of the thriving fandom economy where people are writing big, rich, interesting stories - AUs, fix-it, time travels, what ifs - and I read those fics avidly. But I've been really craving the old "slice of life" one shot recently. Let me hang out with your dudes (gn) just doing their thing for a couple thousand words. Small moments, ordinary daily things. I love it. Same for art. Little domestic snapshots just get me. This is also a chance to say something I like about your writing specifically, Boli, because you incorporate a lot of this kind of scene into Mud fic while balancing the bigger plot elements. Thinking of that great bar scene. <3 23. ship I've come around to Syku is probably the big obvious one here since I spent so long (decade) waffling on writing Dooku in any kind of romantic thing. Then, reason slipped from my nerveless fingers and shattered. I dissolved About Them. But you poor people watched that happen to me in real time so I won't go on and on about it. No description can match the experience of watching me daily embarrass myself on here over them.

You know what one I weirdly have come to love? Obimaul. At first I was like "oh sw fandom, you'll ship anything lolol" and then I watched the Maul Clone Wars episodes and I was like... okay... okay... yeah, so, I get you want to specifically murder him and everything, but the way you're keening "Kenobi" right now...

It's kind of really fucking sad? Like Maul is this person who had been literally broken in half, and that's before you get to the metaphorical damage of being essentially enslaved by Sidious his whole life. I mean Maul's origin story makes Dooku's kid trauma look like a trip to Disney World. This person who fundamentally does not know about love, having been fed a diet of pain and hate all his life, getting into the murderous jealous one-sided sexual obsession with Obi-Wan, which is part inability to distinguish hate from lust, and part a pure desire to be Obi-Wan because he's representative of everything that was taken from Maul. He embodies every chance Maul never got. The (loving) Master. The community of people like him. The family. It's so dark and doomed and fucked up, but also so sad.

But I realize I'm not here to talk about shipping normal things, since my problematic main ship somehow manages to be both a Fridging and a Kill Your Gays trope...

[angelmichelangelo]

if you are still taking requests ,, i am once again requesting rise disaster twins. IM SORRY OKAY they are the sillies of all and i am obsessed with how you write them and their dynamic. mayhaps something goofy and fluffy of your choosing. also a good time for me to say that across all of your tmnt fics, i adore how well you write authentic sibling relationships. it is so satisfyingly accurate and a big reason as to why youre one of my fave fic authors :)))))) anyways enjoy the rest of your vaycay while you can !!!!

AHH TYSM FOR SUCH KIND WORDS ;__; appreciate it, pal! here are some of the sillies :3

read on ao3!

x

“There’s a ghost in the bathroom.”

Leo says it as he torpedoes into Donnie’s room, launching himself onto his bed at full speed to sprawl across his legs, making the other turtle click in annoyance at him as he tries to free himself from the heavyweight now draped across his lower limbs.

“No there isn’t,” Donnie hisses, setting his iPad down carefully on his side table. “Now get off of me.”

Leo rolls onto his shell, starfishing out his arms and legs to distribute his weight further as Don attempts to buck him off. “Nope.” He says, entirely serious, popping the p and everything. “There is. I saw it. You gotta check it out with me.”

Donnie scoffs (a real one this time) and rolls his eyes hard enough to leave some strain there in his skull. “Was it not the boiler whistling again? I told you it was gonna do that.”

Leo shakes his head. “Nuh uh. I know what the boiler sounds like, Don, I harmonize with it every morning. In perfect pitch and everything.”

Donnie’s brow swoops low over his eyes. “Yeah. I know.” He sighs, and tries again to roll his brother off his body but fails. “Ugh. Fine. I’ll come check out your stupid ghost.”

Leo grins a wicked smile and props himself up onto his elbows, seemingly about to release him before he pauses and shoots his brother a steady glance.

“I’d be careful about calling it stupid,” he says, still entirely serious about the whole thing. “That shit will haunt you for life.”

Donnie deadpans him and gives him a hard enough shove to move him to the edge of the bed. “Just go.”

There isn’t a ghost in the bathroom. Not that Donnie can notice anyway.

He inspects the room with a keen eye, because even if he does veer on the whole non believer stuff he hates being wrong about anything, especially in front of Leo — so full ghost hunter mode it is.

“I think it’s just the old pipes,” Donnie concludes after Leo launches into a detailed explanation as to what he’d heard in here moments ago. “They just rattle a bit and make noise.”

Leo snorts a laugh. “Like dad.”

Donnie doesn’t laugh, but does indeed agree. “Like dad.”

Leo bobs his head, looks at himself in the mirror and then says,

“Awesome. No ghost. Come get waffle cone with me to celebrate?”

To that, Donnie tips his head back, all the way without it falling clean off his shoulders and makes a very ghostly sounding groan.

“What?” Leo says with a laugh, ribbing him gently with an elbow in his side.

Donnie’s head snaps upwards, maybe a little too fast on the account of the stars that swirl about in his head before he can take a breath, and he’s narrowing his eyes into sharp slits, directed right at him.

“You did this to get me to go get waffle cone with you?”

Leo reaches over and in the condensation of the mirror does a little finger drawing of Donnie, large eyebrows of course exaggerated with a little speech bubble that reads wehhh next to him with a frowny face.

“Can’t a hermano choose to hang with his hermano?” He says once he’s down, beaming proudly at it before looking back to see if Donnie was watching at all.

“Ugh.” Donnie responds dryly. “You don’t have to… fabricate the paranormal laws to get me to hang out, Nardo.” And suddenly the bathroom feels a little cramped for the pair of them.

Leo’s face softens and Donnie feels a swell of guilt suddenly rise up from his gut.

“Er, yeah I do, dude,” Leo says with a breathy laugh. “The other day when we went to the skate park?”

Donnie folds his arms over his chest defensively. “Yeah? I went with you, didn’t I?”

Leo nods. “Yeah, only after I’d argued with you about how you should put rocket launchers on my wheels, and you said you’d come with me to make sure I hadn’t.”

Donnie bristles. “That… was entirely practical.”

“Or the other time,” Leo continues. “When we went to Run of the Mill for lunch and I told you I could finish that entire sundae in five minutes.”

“And you didn’t. You were nearly sick, Hueso threw you out by the scruff of your shell.”

Leo chuckles. “Yes but you still came with me. It worked, didn’t it?”

Donnie feels his whole body sag, arms hanging limp at his sides, deflated like a giant, soggy balloon.

“Leo…” he says, feeling small. “I… you didn’t have to—”

“Dude!” Leo is quick to interject whatever it is he was planning on saying by looping his arms around his neck and pulling him in tight. “Do not start on the sorry crap right now or I’m bringing that sundae up again, I don’t care that I ate and digested it a week ago, it’s coming up.”

Donnie untangles himself from his twin’s iron bar hold and frowns at him. “But you shouldn’t have to find excuses for me to hang out with you.” He says.

Leo shakes his head, like everything was easy, breezy, Leo-squeezy.

“Don-Tron, I know it’s not easy for you, bro. The whole socializing thing? I got you, man. S’what I’m here for.” A playful beat. “Besides being the better looking one.”

Donnie scowls at him in full force. “I disagree.”

Leo jabs a thumb to little mirror drawing Donnie that was starting to drip across the glass.

“He doesn’t,” he says. “Waffle cone? You and I?”

Donnie huffs, though in truth, he does want waffle cone. And he does want to hang out with his brother.

“You and I,” he says. “And the ghost?”

Leo grins, all teeth and hooks Donnie in close with his arm as they exit the bathroom together.

“Yup. Only the best, Dee.”

[imovyn]

okkkk day recap time fun one bc i am so excited to be alive yayyyy am at my parents house today my childhood bedroom tho it may be haunted w teenage angst has a v comfortable bed but for reasons unrelated to bed my back has hurt since last night but that’s fineee tried to get it out w stretching whatever got dressed and grabbed my camera to go take pictures in the backyard for photography class immediately after the sun created the mountains which is like 9am here they’re way close to the mountains and had breakfast same time as my parents my dad still goes to church but my mom was like let’s go hikingggg except i didn’t have any hiking shoes w me so whagever let’s grab the dogs who were very excited to be going on a trip and do a walk up the canyon because the leaves are changing probably they weren’t actually we were a little early but it was still very pretty and i took lots of photos and talked to an old dude who was also taking photos and on the way back we drove through a bakery and my mom got me a coffee and a pistachio croissant it was so good omg and my dad will almost always make pancakes or waffles on sundays for lunch so i had some blueberry pancakessss and spent the afternoon chilling and unsuccessfully trying to airdrop my younger sibling memes but they were doing homework like the straight A student they are (as someone who was like a B- average in high school i am so incredibly proud of them holy shit) my mom had gotten me some new tshirts bc she loves buying clothes but i’m literally not complaint they are very open back tho which i’m not super keen on but why not they’re decently cute and later my moms side of the family was coming over for dinner so i helped my mom wash dishes and set up and make food we had tacosss and my mom made entirely too much food but she’s an amazing chef it was all delicious and they all arrived at once and i talked w my cousins and dinner was good and that side of the family is always v interesting some of my family members have some uhhh unusual thoughts and opinions didn’t know my uncle was a straight up conspiracy theorist that’s really not great but my dad is like insanely patient and diplomatic thank god and when my uncle left his son was like it’s amazing how patient you are which like holy shit how far gone do you have to be for your own son to realize you’re full of shit after everyone left my parents and i continued talking about belief systems and religion and i know i resented my parents a lot when i still lived w them but they’re actually both really smart and cool and i should talk w them more as the evening went on i talked w them individually about some of the thoughts i’ve been having about religion and spirituality recently it’s a weird relationship they have still being in the church but not agreeing w everything they do and i realized some things while talking to them wwwwwww i need to meditate some more on some stuff but yay