#maybe I oughtta post that

[cascade05]

Just saw this post and, just, Bakugo finding beauty in someone who isn’t afraid to stand for what they believe in. Even if you’re not some super powerful, insanely strong person—hell, if you’re weak, but you still will stand against the storm, ya know. You’re not afraid to fight, even if you know it’s a losing game. You have beliefs and you have those things you will never sacrifice, and instead of letting other people fight for you, you’re getting your hands dirty. You’d face the world to keep what you value.

Maybe, he’s thinking about how you’ fight to keep him too…

The same way he’d fight to keep you…

@miliwritesnow

[mudkipt]

spilled his shit EVERYWHERE

[zosonils]

check out this baby sonic i drew

[mildmayfoxe]

torturing myself by comparing my anniversary sale from last year with the one from this year. it's not done yet and anything can change but the numbers aint lookin good so far

[hinderr]

i miss wren farvo btw do you have like . any lore about him before nature/nurture happened? like what was he like when he was a kid and where did he live and how was his relationship with samirah and who was his buire, etc etc i wanna know 👀

OLLYYYYYYY if there's anyone i can trust to be a wren farvo enjoyer ik it's you fr fr. funnily enough there actually used to be a wren-centric nurture chapter that like, explored exactly his lore lmao. the chapter involved themes I wasn't ready to write about however (like, I realised I wasn't the right person/didnt have enough experience with them) so I scrapped that chapter in the end. i can give you the lore aspects though! (cut off because, long as fuck)

(also this will make sense in the further context of the post, but I didn't feel comfortable putting these links under the readmore lmao)

palestine masterlist by palipunk

fundraiser for Yousef, a photojournalist in Gaza

esims!! they need those!! help them out

basically though the rundown was that; wren was adopted by his buir at a young age, after the Purge (young enough that he doesn't remember his previous life, not that he particularly cares to look). also, Wren doesn't remember this, but he was actually adopted first before Samirah (Samirah was older, and thus ended being the older sister anyway) (Samirah also doesn't bother reminding Wren about this, if only to avoid his gloating)

the two only had the one parent, the sole survivor of the Farvo clan after the Purge. It, obviously, left their parent in...a state. i never went around to properly naming their parent, since in the chapter Wren only ever called them 'Buir'. then again given the fact that they were living with a covert back then, the atriarch of clan Farvo probably didn't give their name out anyway.

oh yeah okay so; in the nature/nurture verse, after the Purge, Din's covert wasn't the only covert out there. survivors splintered off into many, many small coverts, most of them isolated from one another and thinking they were the only ones. at most, one covert would be aware of one other covert that survived (and usually, to the best of their ability, try to merge coverts to reassemble their numbers). each covert had a different approach to making through the galaxy, particularly Wren's covert not instilling the 'dont take your helmet off' rule

the themes that i mentioned the chapter having was basically; what it'd be like, growing up as a child of a dead people, and what it'd be like when your parent is a survivor of a genocide. how that'd affect them, and affect you and your family, and how hard it'd be to connect to a culture and a community that was ripped brutally out of your hands before you could even speak. wren farvo, essentially, grew up in a graveyard, with his parent haunted by the ghosts of a family he never got to meet, mourning for a home he never got to see. that Wren was essentially a genocide survivor himself, and how he'd struggle to come to terms with his identity as a Mandalorian when it seems the entire galaxy wants him dead

then I started writing the chapter, realised how similar it was to the very real Palestinian genocide going on right now, and proper realised the depth and weight and importance of how I was going to convey this story. i tried my best for a couple passages, but eventually though i realised that, as of now, it's better if I just...don't. not yet, at the very least. regrettably Im not the best person to write about this, i just don't know enough, and i wasn't going to take a bite out of something i couldn't chew so, whoops! into the deleted scenes doc they go. maybe one day I'll pick it up again

back to Wren Farvo lore however !! his parent passed in the way many mandalorians pass during those times, having caught off guard and alone by a group of one too many beskar-hungry thieves. it was a pretty dark and awful time for the Farvo clan, but they thankfully had the rest of the covert to keep them going. Samirah became matriarch of the Farvos, and Wren became the lighthearted grounding force that balanced out her seriousness. they kept each other in check, one from sinking into the burdens of responsibility and duty, and the other from a recklessness that would eventually kill him. when Samirah adopted Jeliaya, it only brought them closer together, jeliaya basically being a promise for the clan's continued existence

as this is all happening, wren's covert had managed to meet with Din's old covert (Din himself not being around, still searching for the kid). together, and with Bo-Katan's crew after a while, they banded and started searching for more survivors. the heads of the coverts (+ bo) eventually realised how easily dwarf planets flew under nearly every radar. then they found the dwarf planet where they settled and struck peace with the locals. for about a decade they settled in, digging tunnels of their own and carving out spaces for themselves in the planet itself. Wren stayed close with his sister and his niece the entire time, having no reason to be anywhere else

but being able to live on that dwarf planet, though - being able to walk out in the sun in relative peace definitely did wonders for everyone's mental health. for the first time they had a planet again, however small. Samirah's work thrived, especially when she started communicating with the local doctors. Jeliaya grew healthy and at peace, her safety mostly assured. Wren did...Wren things, helping out everywhere he could

a lot of that involved him being part of the force that stood against the Dark Troopers; Wren was one of the first few that devised defensive plans, figured out their weaknesses, convincing the Armourer(s) that beskar weapons were, against this enemy, quite necessary since it's one of the few materials that can tear through the Dark Trooper's armour (which is why she never made Din melt down his spear in this 'verse. that, and also I'm a beskar-spear enjoyer at heart). one such mission brought him and his sister to this Imperial fort, where they met Din for the first time!!

meeting Din, Wren's first immediate thought is 'woah, this guy's fucked' and after learning that he's still looking for the kid he lost about 7-8 years ago, came up with the nickname "Or'trikar". for the grief that he exuded like a physical aura, and for the tightness of Wren's own chest whenever he so much as looked at him. Wren and Din grew closer, mostly due to Wren being...Wren and generally clingy to the people he's trying to impress. it works on Din, who ended up viewing Wren as a younger brother

Din definitely wouldn't think so, but to the Farvos it's obvious that for that time, Din was practically one of them. An honourary Farvo, if nothing else. he was practically Jeliaya's second uncle, and he came around to the Farvo residence pretty often, thanks to Wren refusing to let the guy stew in his own room and his own or'trikar

about two years pass, and Wren and Din get paired together to find the source of all those Dark Troopers, and to scout out how to cut the production off at its root. they find the biggest, freshest clue they've had in all their years and Wren, antsy and excited, decided to go on a solo hunt to burn off steam instead of going home. Din pointed him in the direction of where he last left the Razor Crest, and Wren found it (neglected, dusty, but still usable; something something, nothing grand, just a means to an end) and used it to fly around for a bit

unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on how you see it) the tracker that Gideon put on that ship was still there, and still active. Wren ends up being captured and thrown into an Imperial prison, where he meets this strange kid through the vents who insists on calling himself Asset

and then the rest is history

[i-am-just-a-skeleton]

do you ever just find something that sort of feels like. like it's a piece of you that got cut off before you existed. it's not like it has to be something you particularly Like but it's like you're pieces of the same thing. like they're chunks of your life you've never seen before

[von-eldritch]

//n e ways tryna find the post that explains eldritch kid hcs bc it's been a while and I felt like rbing it but all I can find are memes I made about hellsa and I can't even be mad bc they're so good

[inphront]

y’know i’m writing this fic and it’s making me think that maybe we don’t recognize enough as a fandom that a lot of harrow’s guilt and shame, which make her light years more sympathetic as a character, are a.) not actually that moral, b.) directly caused by the ninth, and c.) probably shared with her parents, the only characters in the whole series that i’ve never seen a single post trying to humanize/analyze as complex. like. harrow hates herself for what her parents did and honestly? the most likely reason for this is just that kids subconsciously recognize themselves as extensions of their parents, and *her parents probably hated themselves for what they did.* regularly explaining your crimes against humanity to your five-year-old but only being willing to discuss it in the terms of it being a horrible sin and having to take a ritual cleansing bath every single time is the action of a very guilty person. i have to imagine that those saltwater baths probably included some really intense self-flagellation on the part of harrow’s parents that she internalized. i’d venture so far as to say that their suicides were motivated by guilt over the massacre just as much as by shame over the opening of the tomb.

harrow’s sense of constant guilt is so often seen as proof of her having overcome the imperial morality pushed by the houses, and that makes sense given the fact that she *has* taken a viewpoint by the end of the series that opposes imperial morality, but also, guilt is like the main export of the ninth house. harrow’s relationship to it, even once it stops being something she projects onto gideon or otherwise externalizes, is fundamentally ninth and ties her to what she herself acknowledges as “the worst flaws of her house.” ultimately it is something she inherited just as much as the 200, which to me provokes a lot of questions about how her parents actually coped with the consequences of their own fucked-up actions. gideon experienced that coping as just straight cruelty, but we know that harrow got a much more complex window into their feelings and behaviors, and my guess is those behaviors bore distinct resemblance to hers.

i have to wonder what sorts of systemic pressures were falling on them and their house that led to them killing off a whole generation, and what sort of transformations they underwent. how *do* you live with yourself knowing that the blood of so many innocent people, people you were responsible for *protecting,* is on your hands? how could you possibly raise a well-adjusted child when she’s basically a mirror into an atrocity you could’ve hardly fathomed up till the day you committed it? do you think they tried to? i think they probably tried to, but ultimately being a good parent doesn’t change being a mass murderer, and it’s impossible to pull off at all when the mass murder is so directly tied to your hopes for your child. the ninth’s entire purpose within the empire is to carry the weight and memory of one of the most horrible things john ever did, to *inherit the mass death and necromantic subjugation of the earth.* in this capacity, harrow’s parents are *victims* of the empire and its doctrine around death who proceeded to perpetuate both the mass death and necromantic subjugation AND the task of bearing the burden of shame onto their next generation. i don’t really know where i’m going with this aside from “the ninth’s cycle of violence is based in shame and is an extension of john’s disbelief in forgiveness, which means harrow can’t break it without forgiving something unforgivable; it’ll be interesting to see how she manages such a difficult task,” and “i think we oughtta talk about the politics of guilt as it applies to the entire reverend family dynamic”

[drpeppertummy]

truthfully my friends this isnt something im overly into or experienced in & as such i have Absolutely no idea if its any good or not. godspeed

[alien-esque parasite creature-in-stomach bordering-on-rapid-horror-preg situation, ends in hospital post-surgery bc you know id never let it explode him but the hospital isnt like a whole big thing, nobody has a good time in this but hes fine]

Val was beginning to wonder if eating at that sketchy restaurant in Hell had been a good idea.

Truthfully, he'd known it was a bad idea from the start. He hadn't liked the look of the place when his sister had brought him there, the service had been awful, the food had been worse, and he'd felt a little off ever since. That had been a few days ago, and he was back home now. It was always shockingly cold returning to the mortal world after visiting his family, but he was glad to be back in Connie's arms, even if it meant braving the chilly autumn air.

Exhausted from the busy week behind him, Val flopped down onto the bed. He was freshly showered and dressed in his pajamas, and very glad about it. Connie was taking her turn in the shower now. Sprawled out flat on his back, Val looked down at himself, and his brow furrowed. He hadn't felt quite right ever since visiting that restaurant, and he was still a little bloated. He laid his head back down on the pillow and rested his hands on his belly.

"Looks like your mom stuffed you like a turkey," Connie teased, standing in the doorway. "Does she think you're as skinny as I do?"

"Christ, does she," Val laughed.

"Maybe you oughtta visit more often, let her beef you up a little," she giggled, dropping herself onto the bed next to him.

"I don't think I could handle that," said Val. "You know everyone else in my family is like ten feet tall?" Connie laughed.

"And I bet they feed you like you are too, right?" She placed a hand on his rounded tummy and raised her eyebrows at how firm it felt. "Sheesh, you really feel stuffed."

"Tell you the truth, my sister dragged me out to some weird restaurant a couple days before I left. It was a mess, you never woulda gone in. Whatever I ate didn't sit right, I guess, my stomach's been a little funny ever since. I've spent the past few days feeling like I swallowed a bowling ball."

"Huh," said Connie, rubbing his belly. It gurgled uncomfortably under her hand. "Maybe you got, like, mild food poisoning or something."

"Maybe," he sighed. "Probably."

"Do you feel sick?"

"I don't know. Not quite. Just off. ADR, as they say at the vet. I mean, I definitely feel bloated, I can tell you that much."

"Believe me, you don't have to tell me," she chuckled, patting his belly. It didn't sound hollow, like it was filled with gas. Instead it sounded solid, like patting a rock, and it let out another sickly gurgle. Connie winced sympathetically.

Suddenly, Val sat up. Connie looked up at him, surprised. His face was difficult to read, but he seemed tense. Concerned, she sat up beside him.

"Val, what's the matter?" She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't know," he said uncertainly, holding both hands against his tummy. He looked down, brow furrowed. Was he more bloated than before? His stomach felt tighter, and…strange, somehow. Almost as if something inside him was pulsing.

"Maybe you should go to urgent care or something," said Connie. She didn't like the look on his face, and she didn't like that he was still so bloated days after eating whatever he'd eaten.

"I can't go to urgent care. I'm not even human. They wouldn't know what to make of me even if I was feeling fine."

"Yeah, but…I don't know. I'm worried," she said, squeezing his shoulder. Now that he was sitting up, his belly looked even more distended than it had when he was laying, and it was oddly top-heavy, as though whatever was making it so swollen was stuck up in his stomach. She didn't like that at all.

Val couldn't disagree with her point of view. Still, he preferred to avoid letting people find out he wasn't human if he could help it. It was a dangerous secret to reveal, and there had been plenty of times where he'd nearly paid a heavy price for it. He didn't have much time to mull it over, though, because his thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a bizarre wave of pain in his stomach. He doubled over with a groan, clutching his belly.

"Val!" Connie grabbed his shoulders. Val remained frozen, trying to process what he'd just felt. It was pain, certainly, and pressure, but it almost felt like movement as well. Cautiously, he sat back upright, his breathing shallow and shaky.

"That's it, you're going to the hospital," she said, standing up. Val opened his mouth to protest when another surge of pain shot through him, and this time he definitely felt movement. He doubled over again, gaping like a fish as his belly pushed out against his hands.

Carefully, Connie pulled him to his feet, putting an arm around his waist to hold him steady, and hurried him out of the bedroom. As they walked, she felt something shift under her hand, and for a moment she froze, looking down at him.

"What the fuck was that?"

"I don't--I don't know," he choked out, desperately hugging his middle.

"Let's go," she urged, and practically dragged him out of the house.

Connie hastily put the directions into the GPS and was off like a flash before Val could even finish buckling up. His belly bulged conspicuously over the seatbelt, undeniably rounder than it had been earlier, and whatever was inside was growing restless. A moan of terror escaped him as he watched something move under the skin.

"Connie, I love you," he blurted out, his voice shaking.

"I love you too. Don't talk like you're gonne die. You're not gonna die." She reached out and grabbed his shoulder tightly before returning her hand to the wheel. Val thought she looked like she definitely thought he was going to die.

The pressure inside his stomach was unbelievable, and only seemed to be increasing as whatever was inside continued to move around and grow. It was growing fast now, and he could feel his stomach stretching and straining to contain it. He tried not to think about how far it could stretch before it burst.

"We're almost there," said Connie, trying to reassure herself just as much as him. She glanced over at him and was horrified to see his belly visibly squirming. Suddenly, his belly surged violently, and he let out a hoarse cry as the creature inside him began to thrash, pushing out hard against the walls of his stomach.

"Oh, god, please," he cried out, clutching his belly as his tightly-stretched skin was pulled tighter still. "Oh, please, god, no--"

Val woke up feeling like he'd been run through with a chainsaw. He wasn't sure where he was or what had happened, and he didn't have the strength to care. All he knew was that there was a horrible searing pain in his belly. As he regained consciousness, though, he began to recall the events of the night, and he looked down at himself. His belly was flat. Flat, and bandaged up. He let his head fall back onto the pillow with a sigh of relief.

The surgeon told him that he'd barely made it in time, and that they'd pulled something like a sucker-mouthed chupacabra out of his stomach, and that it was nearly the size of an infant, and that his wife had urged them to just not ask questions, and that after the procedure they were inclined to just roll with that, and that he'd have to stay in the hospital for at least a week. Val groggily accepted all of this information; the surgeon could've told him he'd grown a second head and he'd have nodded along. With his stomach intact, all he cared about now was seeing Connie.

EPILOGUE BECAUSE I CANT WRITE ENDINGS: It took one day for Val to win the hearts of all the nurses with his charm and only five for him to be released--for good behavior, he'd joked. Against all predictions, he recovered surprisingly quickly, although his tummy remained terribly sore for weeks; that was, of course, to be expected. He'd persuaded the hospital to let him ship the creature back to Hell for further evaluation. Astonishingly, they'd managed to get it out alive after sedating it right along with Val, and it had been nicknamed "Fluffy" by the frightened staff who were in charge of keeping it under observation. Fluffy, as it turned out, was a relatively common parasite found in undercooked lava cod, which was exactly what Val had eaten, although most of his fellow demons and devils were built sturdily enough that it wasn't much of a danger to them. Connie, who had been even more shaken up by the incident than her husband, received even more affection from him than usual in the following days. He felt awful for putting her through the experience--he'd expressed this, and she'd incredulously assured him that it wasn't his fault--and he made sure to bake her something special for taking care of him.

[mamawasatesttube]

6 & 29 for the ask game? i love your work!!

6. Are there any fics from others you reread all the time?

not "all the time" per se but i've definitely gone back to both fill in the blanks by @mindshelter and blush by @misspickman a few times. what can i say, i love it when tim is besotted and kon gets loved <3

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

okay i DO plan to post this.. eventually... when i finish the other 5 chapters of it... but given that i have no idea when that will be, here's a bit of the "jon's friends keep thinking his big brother is hot and he's in hell about it" wip sfdkjh (under the cut for length!!)

fanfic writer asks!

Any thoughts Yichen had about going to the skate park tomorrow get zapped clean out of his head as an engine purrs, and a sleek, sexy as hell motorcycle peels into the parking lot.

It’s a gorgeous dark red color, with black accents, exposed chrome exhaust pipes, and a front light and handlebars to match. It’s not obnoxiously loud, but its thrum is powerful and satisfying. It sounds expensive, if that’s even possible.

The sexy bike rolls to a stop right in front of the three of them, and the rider rests his foot on the ground for support. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a leather jacket covered in patches and studs—the shoulders are spiked, and a little chain dangles from one of the pockets.

Yichen identifies a few hero logoes among the patches on both the back and front; there’s the Superman family crest, obviously, on one shoulder, and then Wonder Woman’s winged W on a trapezoid. One of the Flash lightning bolts, too, in red and white—Yichen isn’t good at remembering which hero is which, outside of Metropolis. Is that… no, Kid Flash is yellow. Oh well. There’s others he doesn’t recognize at all, like a round yellow-and-black one right over the rider’s heart with a weird… bird-shaped thing, maybe?

Man, he really oughtta brush up on his heroes.

But that’s beside the point, because holy shit. This guy—this is the coolest guy he’s ever seen in his life! That jacket, the boots—chunky, thick-soled, covered in belts and buckles—and the ripped jeans, with barely-visible fishnets peeking out through the tears. This guy has fashion! Ho-lee shit, what is someone like that doing here?

Jon hops down from the brick fence with a sigh. “Alright,” he says, and leans down to pick up his backpack. “Well, I’ll see you guys.”

“Wait,” Priya says. “That’s your ride?”

Jon blinks. “Uh, yeah? Why?”

The cool as hell motorcyclist pulls off his helmet. Yichen’s jaw drops.

It’s like seeing Jon’s dad’s face transplanted onto a guy half his age and so much hotter. He’s got high cheekbones and a square jaw ever-so-slightly dotted with stubble, and piercing blue eyes just like Jon’s dad, and his hair falls in curls that should be crushed and flattened from the helmet but somehow still look amazing.

“Yo, Jonno!” Conner calls. “C’mon, we’re gonna hold up traffic!”

“I’m coming!” Jon hollers back. “I’m just saying bye, jeez!”

Yichen finally remembers how to close his mouth and does so. He doesn’t feel cold anymore—his face is on fire. “Dude.”

Jon tilts his head quizzically. “Yeah?”

“Dude,” Yichen repeats.

“What, Yichen?” Jon glances at Priya for clarification, but doesn’t seem to find any. What the hell does he need clarified here?

“Dude!” Yichen clutches at his hair. “Duuuude!”

“What!” Jon hefts his backpack onto his shoulders. “Stop ‘dude’ing at me and say it already!”

Yichen jumps down from the brick wall and grabs Jon by the shoulders. How does he not get it? How does he not get it?!

“Dude,” he says, as intense and emphatic as he can hope to get. He shakes Jon slightly, then points at Conner. “That is your brother?”

“Uh… yes?” Jon squints at him. “Is that, uh… a problem?”

Yichen clutches at his hair again. “Dude!” he exclaims in consternation. Grabs at Jon’s shoulders again. “Oh my god. Dude! Dude! You never told me your brother is hot!”

Out of the corner of his eye, Yichen almost thinks he sees Conner laugh. Except that’s not possible, because the engine definitely drowned out his words—they’re not that close to the roadside. Priya definitely laughs, though, covering her mouth with one hand.

Jon, meanwhile, wrinkles his nose. “…Ew.”

[urne-buriall]

in honour of the this ken is a horsegirl post here's an little slice of sotw, during the time troubled-kid claire stays at the ranch

as a refresh, the premise of all of this is that Cas and Dean are at odds while Claire is present, stuck pretending they're only roommates, which Dean is pissed about because he wasn't aware he'd be forced into this charade in his own home...

--

Although many things had changed with Claire’s arrival, this hadn’t: Cas arrived home while Dean prepared supper in the kitchen, both of them so ingrained in their routines that it couldn’t be helped.

Only this time Dean didn’t call out a welcome from the kitchen. Cas didn’t call hello from the door.

Slicing peppers on a cutting board, Dean heard Cas stop in the kitchen door, a clear hesitation.

“Yeah?” said Dean, not looking away from his countertop, his arm moving with each steady slice, uninterrupted.

“How was Claire today?” asked Cas.

“The morning was good,” said Dean. “Got through chores.” He swiped the peppers to the side of the board and started on a red onion. “Went to the store, all good. Got home. She asks if she can call up some friends.” The friends that were responsible for half the trouble she was in. Suspiciously older, suspiciously pushy.

“Oh,” said Cas. He came further into the kitchen. He leaned back against the counter, a little further down from Dean than usual. No hands on Dean’s waist. No kiss to the back of his neck or his shoulder or his cheek. Dean’s knife stuttered a little on the onion, then he corrected back to the even rhythm of his cut.

So they could each talk to Claire and they could talk about Claire but couldn’t talk simply to each other. Dean was learning the new rules.

“I told her long-distance is too expensive. That we’d stick to the phone plan: her parents call her on Sundays. She had a few choice words for me about that.” He looked up at Cas. “She called me a ‘wannabe Ken doll.’”

Cas did a terrible job of smothering a smile. He folded his arms over his chest and cleared his throat. “That is very inappropriate,” he said, tone flat and gravelly like he wasn’t amused.

“It’s downright offensive,” said Dean. “Ken doesn’t even have any bits.”

Cas smiled fully now, despite himself, head bowing down. Dean couldn’t help wanting to make Cas laugh, even now when they were at odds with each other.

And he couldn’t help but wonder, is this part of what it would be like if they had kids? This kind of debrief in the kitchen, finding the balance of taking something seriously but not taking it hard.

“I’ll go up and see if I can speak to her,” said Cas. “She is, I take it, in her room?”

“Don’t know how far you’ll get, but you can try,” said Dean.

Cas tipped his head up thoughtfully, pondering strategy. Dean pulled a couple of tomatoes onto the cutting board.

“Hey Cas,” Dean said, not cutting anything yet. Cas looked at him, expecting anything. Probably not expecting what Dean suggested: “I know Michael said her friends were a pretty bad crowd. But she shouldn’t be cut off. I mean, she oughtta have some kids her age around. I was thinking maybe of asking Jody or Donna if they know some Scouts who’d wanna come up to the farm for a visit. Not make a thing of it or anything, but give Claire a chance to meet some people and not be too lonely, you know?”

Cas studied Dean for a long moment and Dean couldn’t figure out what Cas was thinking. There was something of Cas’ fondness in it, the way he looked when his heart had been warmed by something Dean said or did. But there was also a puzzled note, Cas putting pieces together that didn’t form a sensible picture in his head.

“That might help her feel at home here,” Cas said at last. “It’s a very thoughtful idea, Dean. But I thought you wanted to get rid of Claire, not make her welcome.”

Dean tightened his stance. It had been a nice idea, but then Cas had to be a dick about it. “Way I see it, it doesn’t matter either way to me if she stays or goes. This isn’t about her. Now if you change your tune, I don’t see that we’ll have any problem.”

“Right,” said Cas, pulling away from the counter and walking away. “Because this is how I wanted to spend our summer.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Cater, Floyd: New Year, New Me

Cater Diamond has some of the most consistently photogenic initial artwork 😩 Everyone else, take notes!!

bxsvsjwbwk The reasoning Cater gave for why astrology is his best subject… I didn’t think he’d bring up horoscopes as icebreakers, but in hindsight it makes a lot of sense for his character! I feel like I’ve really come to appreciate Cater’s character these past few years, especially his social intelligence.

For this piece, I wanted Floyd to pose a challenge to Cater! There’s less of a focus on Cater’s thoughts and feelings and more on how he deals with his interviewer and uses his abilities to be evasive against such a formidable foe.

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

"What do you want to do in the coming year?"

“Ooh, that’s a toughie!” Cater curled a lock of hair around one finger, contemplating. “There’s just so many places I want to see and so many things I want to try out!“

“Well, just pick one. Shouldn’t matter which it is. Or you can just shout’m all out, that works too.”

“Ahaha, something tells me you aren’t taking this interview all that seriously, Floyd-kun!” Cater’s gaze trailed his tresses—the tangerine-colored strands wrapped around a forefinger. “… Mmm, okay. I’ve got it now! I think I’d like to try out different hairstyles 🎵

“I’m always wearing my hair the same few ways, down or in a pompadour. It might be fun to experiment and change up my look. Maybe I’ll go for something that totally changes my image! I was flipping through a fashion mag the other day and say some awesome looks.”

Floyd’s eyes glinted with interest. “I say go big or go home. Fully commit to the bid, Sea Bream-kun. Why stop at just the hair? Surprise us all. Make it as dramatic as you can, then pick out cool duds to go with it. Some spiked leather boots oughtta go nice with a spiked hairdo!! Slap on some heavy stage makeup too, you’ll look crazy cool.”

“Whoa, whoa, that’s a bit much, isn’t it?!”

“… Hah?” A dark shadow crossed Floyd’s lax features. “You sayin’ you don’t like my ideas?”

Cater paled and hastily backpedaled. “Nah, it’s not that! It’s just that what’s in fashion comes and goes so fast, it’s hard to keep up with it.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t really get that.” Floyd (thankfully) let the topic drop, but he soon moved to another one. “You care too much about what other people think. You should just wear whatever you feel like.“

“Image is so important when you’re a Magicammer!” Cater sighed. “Everything you post on your account gets seen by thousands and thousands of people, you know?”

“I just kinda post whatever."

"For real?! But your social media profile's how a lot of people will get their first impression of you. It tells your story. That's why I work so hard on mine! I'm always looking up fads so I can have something to share.”

“You really care too much,” Floyd griped, carefully eyeing his upperclassman. “What, you not happy with how people think of you now? You gotta change yourself to be what they want you to be?”

“That's... Man, you're putting me on the spot here! Chill out, this is an interview, not an interrogation," Cater joked, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

Floyd shrugged. "I don't see what's so great about doin' stuff just because other people want you to. I ignore Azul and Jade all the time, and that makes things way more fun for me."

“It sounds like it also makes things way less fun for them... It's nice that you can be so free-spirited though!"

“You should try it sometime. Bail out on Goldfishy and see how red in the face he gets~ That’ll be something new and interesting for your followers to see!!”

“I think I’d like to keep my head, thanks.”

It was a back and forth between them, aggressive strikes from Floyd that Cater tip-toed around with social grace. With each exchange, the tension tightened and tightened, until it was so taut that it threatened to snap.

And snap it did.

“Not cool, Sea Bream-kun.” Floyd suddenly frowned and folded his arms. “You’re such a liar. You talked big about how you tell your story online, but really you cherry pick. You hide tons of the other stuff cuz you’re afraid to cut loose and show it all.”

“Eeeeh, Cay-kun’s got nothing to hide!”

The birthday boy flashed his most winsome smile. His heart thundered in spite of it, the cards close to his chest rattling.

“Food pics, selfies, and cool scenery just get more likes and shares than other things do. They’re relatable content. That’s how you get those clicks, strike up a convo, and find new friends! It’s all about matching their pace and making those connections.”

“Bleh.” Floyd’s nose crinkled as he made a face. “First all the horoscope junk as icebreakers, now this… You sure are weird.”

“We’ve been talking for this long though. I’d still call that mission successful, horoscopes or not,” Cater teased with a wink, “so I’ll forgive you this once, okay?”

“Do whatever. It’s not my problem.” The merman threw his arms up, stretching. “We done yet? I did my job, and I’m getting bored of this already.”

“You’re dropping me faster than yesterday’s trending tags?! Harsh…”

The boys were interrupted by a beam of light breaking the horizon. One by one, rays of sun streaked the sky, chasing away the darkness.

It was the dawn of a new day beckoning to them.

To him.

“Looks like that’s my cue.” Cater slid onto his broom and crossed his legs—but passed Floyd a bright-eye look. The broom fluttered with magical sparks, floating a few centimeters off the ground. “Oh, right! Can you do me a huge favor?”

“Depends on what it is and if I’m feeling nice or not.”

“Be sure to take some good shots of me as I’m flying the Birthday Road! Send them over or tag me in them!”

“What happened to changing your style? Gave up on it already?”

“My looks, not my whole Magicam! And besides…”

Cater’s mouth twisted with mischief, his snaggle tooth peering out—and for a second, Floyd swore he saw someone different. The real Cater Diamond.

“This is a once-a-year spectacle you won’t want to miss.”

He sailed on high, the wind throwing back his hair, the sunrise spilling onto his skin. Fabric billowed out behind him, his wizarding cap flailing. The world unfolded below him like a hand of playing cards, and he, a mere suit in it.

Cater raised a hand and shielded his eyes from the glare of the sun. It was harsh and discerning, yet warm and comforting against the cold winter. Many things at once, and ever changing.

His smile was soft and quiet.

Here, there was no Magicam, no mask he needed to wear. No gaudy personas, no bubbly pretenses.

Only every single side of him converging as one, just like the rays of the sun.

[twothpaste]

For the ask meme: 8, 18, 22, and maybe 26? Sorry Ik it’s alot of asks

8. Post an out-of-context spoiler from a wip. Oops, I'm taking a break from writing right now, so I don't have any wips! Here's an unposted morsel from TSS Chapter 9 though:

18. Do you enjoy research? Which fic of yours required the most research? Will confess I don't do a ton of research, but I do love getting to look stuff up and learn new things while writing! TSS probably had the most fact scavenging put into it. I was lookin' up shit about boat propellers, rhinoceros biology, lobster bisque recipes, the invention of the artificial heart, and god knows what else. One of my favorite "research" escapades was for my funny little EarthBound road trip fic [ Hatchback ], where I Google Mapsed random locations along Route 66 and Interstate 80 to set my scenes, and dug up real life hotels / restaurants / tourist attractions for Ness n' pals to visit.

22. Do you title your fics before, during, or after the writing process? How do you come up with titles? Most of my fics start with a goofy placeholder title, like "osha's eleven" or "jimmy john's number 10 with no tomatoes". I might come up with a proper title right away or 5 months later, it depends. Titles usually have to strike me like lightning, sometimes I jot down ideas & brainstorm though. I think my fic titles are just ok, but I'm not-so-secretly very proud of my chapter titles :')

26. What’s your least favorite part of the writing process? Editing sucks!!! I can't bring myself to do it very rigorously, ain't got that kinda time. But no matter how many times I re-read my work, I always find a typo, or an awkward word placement, or something that oughtta be more concise. So the grind must go on 😔

[ ask meme here ]

[theprissythumbelina]

Well, currently getting around to writing a post on Parliament and how they do things, but I've run into a bit of a wall as to what I oughtta include. Anything more in particular you'd like to know?

Oh, you've cracked pandora's box and you don;t even realize it. Let us go down the list.

Who is nominally in charge of the government? How do they get there? Who chose who gets to be in charge? How long are they in charge? What are they legally allowed to do, and what are they actually allowed to do? How are they removed?

Who gets to make decisions? Are parties stable, fluid, hierarchical, democratic? How does this element affect the speed of government actions? Is there a recognized opposition or leading party? Is partisanship high? How do people join or move parties? What ideologies determine party affiliation? Who controls the parties? Are independents able to enter parliament? are they able to influence events?

What kind of people are commonly able to enter parliament? Are they generally independently wealthy, of certain social classes, certain races, genders, birthplace, lineage? How are exceptions able to enter? Do exceptions have to be charismatic, well connected, wealthy, something else?

How are decisions made? You've mentioned before about committees, who gets appointed to committees? What committees get created and why? What external factors, like lobbying, affect committees? Do committees get to vote, write laws, make suggestions, present findings, etc.?

I could go on but I feel like I maybe shouldn't. Consider these for now.

[akkivee]

ig i oughtta actually talk about the preview, review what we thinking now that we have a little more info lol

and then i have a hell of a backlog of posts i need to tag 💀 so i’ll start that and maybe i’ll find something interesting idk what vee was cooking in the past lol

LIVE NOW

[billkaulitzwife]

Okokok this is kinda based off ur darrell getting cheated on post but MORE PAIN 😤 plz do some hcs of what dar and sodas relationship would be like if darrys girlfriend cheated on him with soda, like would he ever forgive him?? I MUST KNOW PLZ ADDI

omg i hate you sm rn. also i decided im gonna try and get thru all my asks/ drafts so im not bothered anymore. :)

You're Still My Brother.

(Soda, Darry, F!Y/N)

Sodapop's POV

It was December 27th, 1965.

I was walking home from the DX when Darry's broad came up to me from behind.

"Hey, Soda! You walking home?"

"Uh- Yeah. Why? You coming over?"

"Well.. no. Uh... me and Darry broke up so I dunno if I'm allowed back there."

I was taken aback. I looked around slightly, my eyes pretty wild.

"Whoa.. whattya talkin' about?! Darry loves you with his whole life!"

"I guess not. I just wanted to talk about it before you headed home."

I looked at her and took a deep breath. I nodded slightly and sat down in the grass with her.

Y/N's POV

Sodapop is such a dumbass. As I sat in the grass with him, my façade didn't fade at all.

As I cried to him and told him the whole story, I had rolled my sleeves up enough so he could see the makeup I had put there.

"Y'know, Soda.. I really love him.. We were having a conversation but we didn't realise the twins were home."

I honestly don't feel anything in the moment.

"Addie burst in trying to tell Darry something and she ruined the whole thing.. She lied to him and told him that I was cheating on him."

"Addie? As in my sister?? She would never lie about anything!"

"Sodapop she's with Dallas of course she lies!"

"No she doesn't. Neither of the twins would lie. They love you like your their own sister!"

"Maybe not. Darry believed her over me. I tried telling him I didn't but he just didn't believe me."

Plan is ago. He looked at my arms.

"Y/N what's that."

I pulled my sleeve down so it seemed I didn't want him to know.

"Y/N is your Dad beatin' on you again?"

"...No. It was Darry and Pony."

His face softened with concern.

"What.."

God he's fucking gullible.

"No, no, Y/N.. a-are you sure?!"

"You ain't a woofin.. Addie tried but I guess she was too weak."

Darry's POV

I was wondering where Sodapop was.

He was supposed to be home 10 minutes ago.

"Twins?" I called out. I didn't know if they were with Johnny Cade or not, so I had to check.

"Yeah?" Addie called back, walking out of her room putting a jacket on.

I smiled at her, "Where's Pony?"

"In the shower." She smiled back and grabbed a leftover Christmas cookie from off the table. "Pony! Hurry it up we gotta go meet Johnny!" She yelled into the bathroom.

"I'M HURRYIN' QUIT GABBIN'." He called back.

"Addie, you know where Sodapop is at?"

"As far as I know he should be at work." She said, shoving her cookie in her mouth. "Why?"

"He shoulda been home 'bout 14 minutes ago."

"Oh.. Well I'll be on the lookout for 'im on the way to the lot." I nodded and waved goodbye as she walked out onto the porch waiting for Pony.

God I missed Y/N.

Soda's POV

Would my siblings really do this?

I mean there's obvious bruises, but.. Darry? The twins..?

"Oh my god.. Y/N... I'm so.. I'm so sorry.."

She had tears running down her face and I didn't know what to do or say.

Next thing I knew she was on top of me and kissing me.

I grabbed her waist, pulling her in a little more. She were warm and her hands were so soft against the back of my neck.

"Y/N, Stop.." I murmured.

She stopped and I sat back up.

"Wha-- Why??" I muttered in shyness.

"Because you understand and listen, Soda."

"Oh.. Hey, Listen.. I oughtta get home so they aren't too worried about me. Ion wanna get put in no boys home."

"Alright. I'll see you around."

"Yeah. Bye." I got up and walked away towards the house.

"Goodbyee"

GOD DAMMIT. I HATE THIS HOW DO I TELL DARRY.

Addie's POV

Pony had finally gotten dressed and walked outside when I saw Sodapop approach the house.

"Hey, Soda! How was work?"

"It was fine." He said, walking straight inside and to his room.

"He's home!" I said before I walked down the steps and out the gate.

"Hey, Ads. Something was off about Sodapop, don'tcha think?"

"You ain't a woofin'. He looked pretty Red- and pale, too.." I stopped walking towards the lot in realisation of something.

Sodapop had lipstick all over his lips.

"Ads, you alright?"

"He picked up a broad!" I smiled and hugged Pony in happiness.

He hugged me back and I jumped up 'n down.

"Ohhh my god ohmygodohmygodohmygod!! We'll have another sister!!"

Pony smiled and shook his head, laughing. We had almost reached the lot in about 4 minutes.

"Hey, Johnny!" I called out to the dark-haired boy I saw about 20 feet away.

Mine and Pony's dark hair had grown a LOT since August. His hair was just below his ears like before, and our blonde and grown out so our roots had came in some.

I ran towards Johnny and tackled him onto the couch, Pony following suite.

I told Johnny everything that had happened once we left and how we suspect a girl.

Darry's POV

"Oh, thanks Ads. Heya, Soda. I'm just makin' dinner."

"Cool." He said as he rushed to the bathroom to wash off his face.

Why? I'm not sure. I didn't think much of it.

"Darry can we talk? It's about Y/N. I'd prefer to sit down.."

"Alright..?" I lowered the stove to low and sat down at the kitchen table.

Soda sat down and took a deep breath. "Um..."

Third Person POV

Soda told him everything. The kiss, the lies, EVERYTHING.

Darry had tears forming in his eyes and he lowered his head onto the table.

"Darry I'm so sorry. I tried to believe myself but I just- I couldn't. I don't know why, Darrell plesse forgive me."

"Hey, Soda, this ain't your fault."

"But I feel so bad.."

"Don't worry. You're still my brother. You had nothin' to do with this. It's her fault, not your's."

. . . . . .

Pony noticed the streetlight turn on.

"Addie, time to go home."

"Ooh right. Dinner time! Johnny you wanna eat with us?"

"..Yeah sure!" Johnny replied.

The three walked to the Curtis'.

They entered and saw Darry and Soda hugging eachother.

"Woah.. what's happened?" Pony asked.

"Just sit down in the living room, I'll bring out the soup. Welcome in Johnny, y'all are just in time."

Sodapop wiped his eyes and grabbed Addie after she took off her jacket. He hugged her tight. "I'm sorry we didn't talk after I came home, I'll explain in a minute."

"Hey, Addie, Mickey's on TV!" Pony yelled to Addie after her and Soda hugged.

"It's all good, Soda. Love ya big brother."

"Love you too kid sister."

Darry had brought everyone a bowl of soup (JOHNNY INCLUDED), and he and Soda explained to the young teens.

Addie had broke into tears and Pony was left in shock. Johnny was just devouring his soup, but was shocked too.

"Soda.." Addie said, crying.

"Man.." Said Pony, his jaw dropped.

"Huh?" Mumbled Johnny.

They lived in harmony after they all dropped Y/N because she's a stuck up piece of SHIT.