#maybe theyd exchange some words

[pgranateseeds]

I know a lot of people want it, but I don't think we'll ever get a conversation between Sandra Lynn and any of the bad kids about what Bobby Dawn did to her.

A. It's just unnecessary. We already know the gist, we can already see the ramifications of that action, and a conversation would just be retreading already discovered ground

B. Sandra's relationship with Fig is nearly always in turmoil. Ever since seeing her offer a shoulder to Adaine when she drank heavily when it was her, Fig has been avoiding Sandra when she could. She said in the fight when Baxter arrived, "I'm not trying to see my mom right now," and they didn't talk At All when she took them to the temple ruins. If Sandra Lynn was going to talk to anyone about Bobby, it would be to Fig just bc of closeness, and that's just not happening, at least not for a while. Also i see people define Bobby's short and disastrous relationship with Sandra as sexual grooming, and i find it hard to believe that if she was groomed, she'd tell her daughter, especially not to then say "Fig You Were Groomed Too" or "Fig, Don't Trust Random Men." I think people put way too much emphasis on Fig's bits where she kissed adults in earlier seasons and said "would i know if i had sex? What if I've accidentally had sex?", like those were just jokes, the latter being a joke abt how Fig didnt understand what sex was as a 14 year old, and i don't believe it would be fun for the table if those jokes were treated with the solumn seriousness of fig then being a grooming victim. Also Fig already distrusts men, she was right about Porter and she was stalking Ruben and literally every man outside of her family that she's come in contact with, she's either bullied or investigated, she doesn't need to be told a tale about how men ain't shit

C. Bobby is just much less of an antagonistic player in this conflict than previously expected. Yeah he was involved with The Big Bad, but after the reveal, a majority of the focus shifted onto Porter, Jace, and the Rat Grinders. I don't see the next two episodes having a moment where they sit down and talk about Bobby in depth, beyond "he was/is an asshole"

[sketch-guardian]

FUNNY IDEA!!

Rad and Angel classmates training with Mc and Mc absolutely rocking their shit on accident by giving them the most nasty and dirtiest left hook imaginable to the face like they get punched so hard them fall to the ground trying to process what the fuck just happened as they slowly process what happened and Mc stands above them with the most shocked face ever “😃😄😃” or “😮😯😲” like they knew they had a mean left hook but didn’t think it’d be THAT nasty like it’s deadass that one audio that goes “damn they really about to rock my shi-“ before the punch makes contact EVEN MORE FUNNY IF IT HAPPENS A SECOND TIME BUT THIS TIME ITS A NASTY ASS KICK TO THE GROUND LIKE THEYRE PREPARED FOR THE PUNCH BUT NOT THE KICK CAUSE ITS BASICALLY CANON HUMANS ARENT THST STRONG I THINK THEYD HAVE LIKE HAVE SOME MINOR COCKINESS NOT EXPECTING TO GET THEIR SHIT ROCKED🤣

(I’m so sorry for the word vomit😭)

I apologize for the sudden hiatus without a warning🙈but university have kept me busier than expected, between group projects and an exam, leaving me weary and with no energy to check Tumblr😭Today, I found some motivation and since I wanted to be fair, I finally replied to two requests I had in the ask box, although I still apologize for the awful delay😞

After these, I think I will have take a break from writing for a bit, perhaps focusing on drawings again or only writing headcanons without deadlines when I have free time. I won't close the ask box, in case someone wanted to send comments on the OCs or small questions to which I can answer briefly, however the long headcanons will have to wait, maybe for the holidays😥I hope you can forgive me:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A STRONG MC KICKING THEIR ASS ON ACCIDENT DURING TRAINING"

DEMYA

In Demya's culture, it was typical to fight to show one's strength and worthiness as a mate for life. So it wouldn't be strange for her to train with MC, in fact it would be equivalent to courting at the very least (imagine Lae'zel from BG3 for example-), although it would be more strenuous than the usual playful brawls with MC. Since MC is Demya's mate, she wouldn't underestimate them despite their human race, there's a reason why they're together after all, however Demya wouldn't be able to deny that she wasn't ready to receive such a punch straight to the face, enough to send her to the ground and maybe even make her lips bleed. At first Demya would be stunned by MC's brute strength, but then, licking the blood off her lips, she would grin widely and burst into laughter, in an almost hysterical manner, euphoric and maybe slightly excited at such discovery. Demya, dressed in a workout outfit consisting of a black sports bra and shorts, panting a little and perhaps accidentally drooling while smiling, would pin MC to the ground, exclaiming that it was awesome and that they should definitely do it again

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra is all for working out and sports, so for once he would be thrilled to be able to share his hobby with MC, maybe even finding the opportunity to show off for once, whether it be through physical strength and muscles or fighting skills with his shadow powers, in his demon form he can also use his tail and a dagger made of magic. Domnra would wear a black tank top and dark purple sweatpants to train, his hair tied in a low ponytail. Domnra would attempt to refrain from doing so, however he couldn't help but underestimate MC's physical strength as a human at first, so he would try to take it easy on them, before getting completely humiliated by a punch to the face, enough to make him lose balance and hurt his already poor ego as well, he would need a few minutes to recover from the embarrassement. With tsundere hesitation, finding their powerful display slightly attractive, Domnra would admit that MC is stronger than he expected and that next time, he won't hold back. Mobim would be too worried to watch Domnra and MC training, so the little curse would discover about MC's strenght only later on

AZUL

Azul, despite being a rather active and eccentric demon, usually channels his energy into creative hobbies or partying, he isn't exactly the athletic type, evident from his twink figure. Azul floats around most of the time and often uses magic to avoid unnecessary efforts, so, being a bit weak on the physical side, it wouldn't surprise him to get easily destroyed by MC, despite their human nature. Azul wouldn't have appropriate clothes for training, as he never does, so he would either use his demon form outfit or buy something specifically for the occasion, something that would compliment his shape, maybe to tease MC and distract them. The first time Azul got hit in the face and knocked to the ground, it would shock him greatly, leaving him dumbfounded with a hand on his cheek and his colors changing to grey, before turning pink as he sees MC on top of him, worried for his conditions. Azul would joke that they were pretty rough and that next time they could at least buy him dinner first or kiss his boo-boo, a comment that would earn him another shove. Being a bit of a masochist as well as sadist, Azul wouldn't be too upset and as a revenge next time he would use his ghost like powers to phase through MC

ZURI

Zuri doesn't train often, but as in many other activities, she would be skilled in physical exercise too, elegant and flawless even in battle, performing piercing blows with her weapon, able to fight even without it of course. Zuri's training clothing would consist of her casual outfit, only without her white jacket, which would leave her with long black gloves and a tight sleeveless turtleneck sweater, she would look quite badass, especially since she would fight with her high-heeled boots without any difficulty. Zuri wouldn't understand why MC would want to train with her when there are more suitable people, maybe even less aloof and cold than her, however she would gladly accept, since it was still a request from her beloved. Zuri would sense MC's hidden power, so although initially taken by surprise, which is rare, she would fall to her knees after the punch but not flinch, wiping any blood or smudged makeup from her face or feeling for bruises, swellings, which would heal quickly anyway due to her demon nature. Zuri would eventually smirk faintly, showing her fangs, and mutter that she is glad to know that MC has other means to defend themself besides magic

ODON

Not sure why MC thought it could be a good idea to ask an eldritch horror, for whom a mere glance would be enough to erase MC from existence, to help them with their workouts, especially because physically speaking, Odon doesn't need to train to be strong or resilient, they don't even feel much pain, at most sometimes they just get weary when they shapeshift, on one occasion a creature even tore off their arm once and Odon didn't even flinch, they simply waited for it to grow back (fun fact: Odon has green blood). Odon is aware that if they used their strength seriously, MC would turn to dust and they don't want to hurt their dear friend, so Odon's role would basically be that of a dummy, keeping their casual clothes. Odon would perceive MC's extraordinary power thanks to their perception skills, so they wouldn't be surprised, the eldritch horror would just find the situation peculiar, almost amusing. It would be like unstoppable force vs immovable object, basically Odon wouldn't move an inch despite the punch, they would chuckle and compliment MC on their strength

REMIEL

Oh god, even if accidental, why would MC do such a thing to an innocent angel like Remiel during training? MC would also have to pray that Death, Remiel's father, never finds out about them punching his daughter, because the grim reaper might come visit MC prematurely. Remiel seems weak and frail in appearance, almost like a porcelain doll, however she's still an angel of death, the archangel of hope, daughter of Death and Azrael, so she is actually pretty powerful, enough to beat even Uriel and Nathaniel. Remiel would have no specific set of clothing to train in, owning only her black robe, and although confused by MC's request, she would try to support them, minding her strength. She would be baffled by MC's punch, however she would manage not to fall to the ground and only take a few steps back, turning her face from the blow and brushing her cheek with curiosity, while MC would feel like the worst being in all realms. Remiel would ask MC a lot of questions, to find out if they are aware of the origin or source of their power and if not, she would do some research through books. Remiel wouldn't be hurt over being hit, because from a logical point of view, it was just training

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel is a rather quiet angel and he's a sort of scribe for duty, however when he dedicates himself to meditation, a bit like a sort of monk, sometimes he also trains with archery or martial arts, in fact despite being slim, Nathaniel is still faintly toned, accentuated by his training attire, namely a sleeveless gray and light blue robe, pants of the same color, furthermore he would keep his hair tied in a ponytail, with a blue bow given to him by Luke, as a scrunchie. Nathaniel would accept MC's request to train together, planning a training program suited for MC's abilities, so as not to exhaust them too much, the archangel of patience would also make sure to warm them up first and have them meditate as well. Surprising Nathaniel isn't easy, so MC should pat themself on the back for having shocked the archangel, sending him to the ground with a blow to the face. Nathaniel would grab his jaw, stroking it lightly, still surprised by the punch, however he would be quietly pleased by the novelty, finding the twist very interesting. Nathaniel would let out an amused scoff and take the situation more seriously, no longer underestimating MC and inviting them to continue training, with his hair subtly disheveled, swaying in the breeze (Nathaniel looks better when he's at ease)

URIEL

Uriel, as a warrior angel, believes that it's right to train daily and that it's her duty to make sure she's always in perfect shape, ready to face any battle, given her position as the archangel of justice. Usually Uriel would train in the warrior angels' quarters, with other angels or dummies, always wearing her armor, in fact she rarely gets rid of it. Uriel would be enthusiastic over MC's request and would gladly accept, feeling honored to have been chosen, being the most suitable angel to practice with for such a regimen of physical exercise. Uriel would probably underestimate MC as a human and attempt not to let her enthusiasm get the better of her strength, she would try to hold back in order to avoid hurting MC. Her four wings would ruffle up after falling to the ground due to the punch, staring at MC in disbelief. At first, Uriel's pride would be shattered, because she got humiliated by a human, however her affection for MC would soon win and she would praise them, comparing them to a warrior angel and immediately thinking of other ways to test their strength, a startling discovery for sure, in fact Uriel would want an explanation for it as well. Uriel would make MC demonstrate their strength on several occasions, secretly finding them attractive, much to her embarrassment

[detestable-darling]

idk lil personal ramble under the cut. im sentimental.

i fucking love niche hobbies. i love reconnecting w my old interests with a new unbiased light.

i used to be made fun of for how into little things i got. my passion abt bugs specifically got me bullied pretty heavily as a young autistic kid. i believed in every individual bugs’ life. so kids would torture and kill any bugs they found in front of me. its actually fucked up thinking back on it. theyd make cicadas scream and tear off their wings and legs before squashing them just so i would cry.

so i stopped openly caring and grew afraid of bugs as a result.

then i developed vermiphobia in high school and i was made fun of very openly by who i thought was my best friend at the time. she tormented me that day.

its been 6 years since ive ever exchanged a word with her. its been even more years since ive had anyone pick on me maliciously, many years since i had a “friend” pick on me for what i am and am not interested in or scared of.

in 2021 i re-realised my love for entomology. i started reading and studying, feeling that spark of passion again was invigorating!

its 2023 now.

my bf has a riff with a student of his where they exchange spider facts, he asks me for some to give her every wednesday.

last night, we stopped to fill up fuel, i stopped him from walking so he didn’t step on a beetle. he didn’t make fun of me or anything, hell, he was worried that maybe he did step on it and felt bad for it! the beetle was okay, i tossed him to the grass after my bf and i admired it. that would’ve gotten me bullied as a kid. not now.

i have friends both in person and online who think of me when they see an unidentified insect or spider. members of my family and lots of my friends and even co-workers pick up interesting bugs that died on their windowsills or that they found in abandoned webs or dusty corners!!

ive made people keep their eye out for the beauty of insects, even those who admit that theyre scared of them see them in a slightly different light due to my passion for it. like “wow i think this is scary, but charles would probably think this is so cool wouldnt he?”

im doing reading to find out spider facts to exchange with my bfs student as i thought about all this. its just… nice. its rly rly nice. genuinely.

[cringefail-clown]

the post in question

imagine. what if theyd history. what if dad met dirk before, maybe in his teenage years, one some chess tournament or other competition and maybe he was intrigued by this weird kid with a texan drawl and a creepy af puppet who clearly had some big brains and absolutely demolished the competition. maybe they exchanged a word or two, but nothing never came of it and he forgot, life happened, then years later sburb shit happenef as well. and then. and THEN. he meets the SAME TEENAGER but it turns out hes actually a version of the kid from a different timeline? and theres also a robot version of the guy whos like "oh hey i remember you from the tournament" "you were a human then, what happened?" "oh nah, it wasnt me that was my bro" "but there was only.. your brother there, how can you remember me if you werent there" "nah i was there i was glasses" "what" "i was glasses. the two triangles on his nose". absolutely losing my shit

hey remember the post i made that brodad in turnabout would be absolutely hilarious? because i remember. and i cannot forget. and now im thinking about it constantly

please send help

[moonlightsolo]

okok hear me out: bucky dating a coffee/flower/or knick-knack store owner.

the reader is the only sense of normalcy in bucky‘s life and they’re one of the only people who make him feel truly alive again.

this could be headcanons or an imagine of how theyd meet :) thank u!

perfect blend

wc: 1.5k

warnings: fluffy fluff, unedited, husband!bucky

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

note: DUDE !!! i am literally a barista so i had to do this. also i’ve never done a hc before so i hope this is written in the right way???

the first time you catch bucky’s eye is when he (hesitantly) walks into your coffee shop named ‘deja brew’

bucky has passed by the café countless times but has never had enough courage to step foot in there

he has always been hesitant but today just felt different

the aroma of fresh coffee filled his senses and then he saw you

you’re behind the bar steaming milk and shouting out orders as you hand them to waiting customers with a dazzling smile

wow he’s speechless

“excuse me sir? would you like to order?”

he didn’t even realize the employee at the front register was talking to him this whole time

bucky stuttered over his words as his eyes frantically attempted to find something on the menu

“uh-um…. medium iced americano, please. black.”

they clicked on the screen in front of them with a friendly smile. “and your name?”

“james- i mean bucky. bucky is fine.”

they type his name into the system, and then he quickly pays and goes to wait with the rest of the customers at the end of the bar.

he couldn’t help but watch you work. he has to say something to you. he has to.

his heartbeat thumps nervously in his ears as he watches how you expertly create the drinks.

“medium iced americano for… bucky!”

he takes a large step forward, your eyes finally meeting his with a smile. the drink is transferred from your hands to his, “thank you, uh…” he squints at your name tag, “y/n.” he shoot’s you a grin.

something about the man in front of you made you feel warm inside

whether it’s because you’ve never seen this man around (that’s so handsome it should be illegal) or maybe it’s just his dimpled smile

you hold eye contact for a few more seconds before continuing with your job

bucky goes to say something again but decides against it and leaves

obviously, he shows up the next day and the next day, and the next day… let’s just say he’s there every morning to get a medium iced americano.

sometimes you’re not the one who makes it for him and he swears he can taste the difference

a month goes by, and now the employees know his order by heart and they have it ready for him whenever he’s walks in at 9:30am sharp.

until one day, he doesn’t show up in the morning

the employees, and especially you, were quite concerned. bucky just didn’t come by.

and he didn’t the next day either.

soon, it turned into a week of not seeing bucky’s handsome face walking into the café

and sometimes when the bell rings at the front door, you pick your head up hoping it’s him

and when it's actually him, you didn't realize how happy and relieved you felt to see him

your face lights up when you see him and he couldn’t help but smile at your reaction

“missed me?”

he walks up to the bar counter and thankfully it’s not busy at all so you strike up a conversation with him while you make his drink

“where did you go? we all missed you.”

“i had some business to attend to and i caught up with an old friend.” he explains

*cough cough* falcon and the winter soldier

you hand over his drink and he goes to exchange it for cash but you refuse

“it’s on the house today, buck.“

he couldn’t help but blush like a school boy

“i appreciate it. thank you so much.”

you smile back at him, “of course. it was made with extra love today.” you couldn’t help but add which made him chuckle

he takes a sip of his drink and nods in agreement

“i was wondering… are you busy this weekend?”

your eyebrows raise in shock from his question

“sorry. you don’t have to answer that.” he laughs in disbelief at him and shakes his head

“actually... i’m not busy and you should check your cup.” you smirk as you lean forward to point at it

bucky twirls it around in his hand, then he spots something written in marker. it’s numbers!!

your number to be exact

his mouth drops open in dramatic shock “is that your number, miss y/n?”

he watches how you look down at your feet shyly

you make him smile

so bucky texts your number while standing there so you also had his

unfortunately you start to get too busy to carry a conversation with him so he leaves you be

after work, you couldn’t help but text him

and soon after that, you two were inseparable

every ding from your phone was always a text from him

your first date was that upcoming weekend

& he decided to take you to a restaurant that he loves

bucky is the pure definition of chivalry

he opens the car door for you (well any door for you)

he pulls your chair out and helps push you in closer to the table

whenever your water would run low he would fill it up with the pitcher that’s on the table

conversations came naturally between you both and soon he was holding your hand from across the table

which obviously made you lose your breath a little bit

you both shared each other’s entrees, feeling the other with forks

after dinner, he drives you home and holds your hand while driving

he plays old music in the background, ‘good old-fashioned lover boy’ by queen

he pulls up to the entrance of your apartment, putting the car into park

“thanks for tonight, doll. i had an amazing time.” he turns toward you and a smile forms on his beautiful lips

you couldn’t help but admire all his features

his stubble, the creases in his forehead, his perfect dark chocolate brown hair.

you smile back at him before reaching for the handle of the passenger door

bucky feels his breath hitch when you suddenly turn toward him to kiss him

he feels as if he’s on top of the world

his hands engulf your cheeks as he pulls you in even closer

your mouths slot together like a puzzle piece

it’s literally the epitome of a perfect kiss

fireworks, sparklers, bombs, rocks, firecrackers.

he hasn’t felt this happy since when rogers was still around

bucky could see himself falling in love with you

the rest of your days consisted of coffee with a splash of bucky during the day and 100% bucky at night

your limbs are tangled within the sheets

bucky always insists on old movies you’ve never seen before

also he is SUCH a gentleman, he doesn’t put his hands anywhere that’ll make you feel uncomfortable

he never initiates anything sexual either

he always lets you control whatever you want to do

usually your cuddling is just intimate with soft kisses and heavy breathing

bucky loves your waist and your hips and how soft you are

he can’t get enough of your lips though. you’re intoxicating

but when you guys make love for the first time- he’s so gentle and caring and continues to check up on you

he’s literally so old fashioned it’s so adorable

he ends up telling you about his past

which obviously you know about because “the winter soldier” was plastered all over the news for a while

but you reassure him that you don’t think of him like that

& you know that he’s not that person anymore.

“your past doesn’t define you” were your exact words.

he legit tackles you with a hug and a billion kisses

bucky goes and buys you a ring the next day

guess who’s his best man at the wedding? sam wilson.

becoming mrs. james buchanan barnes feels like a dream

bucky showers you with support for your business

don’t even get me started on you teaching him how to steam milk for a latte with that metal arm of his

he decides he’ll stick to the front register to take orders and mop the floor instead

he tells you “stand there and look pretty while you make drinks, darling. i’ll be the muscle” he kisses his flexed bicep playfully with a wink

he always winks at you and he likes to press kisses to your cheek during the workday

waking up to your sweet husband every morning is like living a dream

bucky couldn’t be more grateful for you

you saved him

[ourobororos]

I love primal reversion (orb'n) Archie and Maxie. I wonder what it's like when it ends.

Is it more of like a I've finally come back to my senses I'm so sorry thing. Where the smoke clears and dust settles and Archie and Maxie are sorta holding each other. Beginning to calm down, paralyzed by all the feels. Maybe comforting each other once they learn to embrace each other again.

Is more of a black out thing? Where they kinda wake up in the middle of a crater, all torn up and are like. 'Did we do this?'

Do they only stop because the power runs out? Their explosive power fading, the blows their exchanging coming slower and slower. The intense glow and hatred in their eyes fading before a wave of fatigue washes over them, ending the fight as they both run out strength to stand.

Is it more of a possession? A primal hate and rage similar to their own, but not their will. Emotions not belonging to them taking over as they lose control of themselves. The fighting only ending once the power of the orbs subside and they regain their control. Working to help coax the other into calmness.

I'm just dying to know

its kind of all 3! their emotions get heightened to the point where it becomes a force beyond their own- the rage blinds them and they no longer can comprehend whats happening as the ‘possession’ takes over- that amplification of those emotions thats turned into raw dangerous power that overwhelms them and controls them- just that fury to seek their sworn enemy (the holder of the opposite orb) and destroy them. they have to be subdued with restraint and exhausting them enough, just words alone wont get to them- but in that weakened state it can help them finally settle down and regain themselves in that fatigued exhausted confusion. like ohhh did i really do all that? fuck 😬 (or you can just try to knock them out that works too and is probably easier than trying to reason with them) (giovanni and ghetsis insist on resorting to this one time to prevent further damage so lysandre has to finish them off and make them pass out)

if its just the two of them and both are in that primal reversion state i think it would last for a long long time with so much destruction like eventually theyd fizzle down and get exhausted enough to stop (since they cant exactly kill each other) but in those moments others do interfere to stop them before it gets too much too fast. afterwards its a lot of heavy exhaustion and fatigue but later on when theyre trying to address and come to terms with their emotions theres some apologizing and crying etc etc for sure lol (first times though they have to avoid each other for several days if not weeks bc its too much to remember or even acknowledge)

[normal-thoughts-official]

I like the idea of an au where Magnus and Alec meet before the show or maybe Clary just shows up a little later but still managed to meet on the canon timeline somehow, but I have no idea how it could change things, I (want to) imagine that Izzy is closer to Magnus since she has meet him now for longer (maybe jace is just a little less of an asd though doubtful), idk what do you think?

hmmm i dont think i have any, like. super fleshed out thoughts about this but what i like the most about that idea is that by the time there's the whole lydia drama they would have already know each other to some extent. maybe not be dating but have, you know, their thing for longer than just one late night date, which i think makes that plotline more meaningful for the both of them

not that it's not meaningful as it is, i think it's pretty meaningful - magnus is being rejected straight after baring his heart to someone new for the very first time and daring to hope AND watching homophobia turn a guy's life miserable, and alec is turning his back to everything he's ever wanted for good - but like. it would make it more difficult for the both of them and id like to see what that would be like when the two of them would have had time for their feelings for each other to mature

honestly i think it makes more sense too because like HOW in the world did the Acting Head of the NYC Institute and the High Warlock of Brooklyn NEVER fucking meet before clary??????? i mean okay sure they probably had "met" as in magnus was there to reinforce the wards and they exchanged a few words and that was that, which is different because magnus is in sh territory and neither of them feel the slightest bit comfortable in there, but did they never work together before the memory demon thing? i mean, seriously?

and actually considering how they didnt know each other's names it's implied they hadn't even met like THAT before which is just weird

but anyway i would like to have seen that different first meeting and maybe play a bit with the parallels there could be. like they would probably be taking on some particularly bad demon together and it would have been nice to like, have alec shoot some demon who was about to get to magnus and have that kinda "silent protector" vibe that they first had at the club, and then maybe if magnus gets injured alec could lend his strength too and/or tend to his wounds lmao. just another version where alec shows that same caring and gentleness that magnus had been craving for so long and magnus ends up falling for him all unexpectedly, especially after maybe a little bit of battle bickering that turns out to actually be fun for once, you know? aaa id love that

okay so things that would have changed imo:

that cursed "alec thinks he is in love with jace" drama wouldnt be a thing, which i think would mean that alec would be even less interested in helping him and clary be dumbasses and throw everything to shit, so theyd have to go behind his back extra hard and their whole fallout would have come even sooner. dont ask me how that affects "the plot" i barely remember what that even was in this dumb show

i think he'd be more mad at jace than clary and simon, so maybe their relationship in s1 wouldn't be so bad as he would see them as more accomplices to jace than The Ones Who Are Throwing Everything To Shit you know

the lydia drama would be more complicated and angsty because both of them would have had time to mature their feelings. i dont think theyd have dated because again alec had chosen the closet and i dont think hed do anything to jeopardize that, but well... if he gets to go on missions with magnus and maybe enjoy some flirting bantering... nothing wrong with that, right? he was always upfront about that. but the feelings were there and the connection was there and that would make it even harder for the both of them to deal with the fact that alec was marrying some woman

oh wait! juicy. so magnus had been on the low because of valentine and all, and they hadnt seen each other in a few months or so, so when magnus comes back there's like. that extra layer of alec realizes how much he's missed him and makes his resolve even more fragile because well. fuck. his feelings for him sure didn't go anywhere

magnus on the other hand would maybe be more wary of him because, well, since he last saw him valentine is back and god knows what the lightwoods are up to, considering last time. magnus knows him well enough by now to know that he doesn't agree with his parents on a lot of things, but he also knows that alec chooses their protection almost always

so we would have at the very least a more level "cat and mouse game" where alec also needs to go after magnus and not just the other way around, you know? and maybe in this version magnus is the one who tells alec his parents used to be in the circle, not... whoever it was in canon (i think lydia? my god i really need to rewatch this show) which is one of the most important seeds that led alec to call off his wedding imo, so it would be interesting for magnus to be the one to give him that information

not that i think that's why he would tell him, i think if anything magnus would assume alec knew. so he'd be like "no offense, alec, but i don't really feel like trusting a lightwood in those times" and somehow the topic would come up because of that

hhhhhhhh that's all i have rip

feel free to add more if u want everyone

[moonscarsandstars]

It was all because of that damned jar of jelly beans.

i am very very sorry this was late

~~~

It was all because of that damned jar of jelly beans.

It wasn’t even James’s or Sirius’s fault. It was the damned jelly beans that’d put them in this misery.

Maybe if they hadn’t been sitting there so attractively, the entire dorm wouldn’t be in this mess. The mess, namely being Sirius glued permanently to the roof, with James stuck in the air trying to dance the waltz to the Ramones. Nor would a crowd of extremely curious Ravenclaws be standing all around Remus.

“Why- why did the bang happen in our tower?”

“Does anything make sense at this point?”

Taking a deep breath in, Remus looked at a squirming Sirius, who met his eyes with a grin.

“I’m sure this angle must be flattering for me, Moons, don’t you think?”

“I think,” started Remus exasperatedly. “That even if you brought a fucking protractor and mathematician here, you’d have as many good angles as a fucking circle.”

“I- I didn’t understand half of those words, Moony, you’re going to have to translate to English.”

“How- how did you even manage to do this?!”

Sirius bent his head over to scratch it, but the length between his stretched-out fingers and head was too far for Sirius’s sanity.

“Moooony, please scratch my head!”

A pout formed over Remus’s lips. Yet he got up, stood on the chair he was sitting on, and scratched Sirius’s head.

Some days he wondered what the hell he saw in Sirius.

Until he saw that dazzling smile that made him go weak at the knees.

“Remind me why i love you,” sighed Remus, resigned.

“Because I’m simply the most charming gentleman you’ve ever met.”

“The fact that you’re on the bloody ceiling begs to differ.”

Sirius pouted moodily. 

~~~

Merely half an hour earlier, everything was normal. Or, well, as normal as this particular dorm could get. 

James had his snitch out, fiddling with one of the wings and watching it flutter. Sirius had his headphones plugged into his ears, his walkman blasting the Ramones. Remus and Peter were sound asleep- like normal people Peter would add.

It had started when James’s snitch had flown out of control, hitting a honeydukes’ bag off of a shelf.

In reflex, Sirius cast a slowing charm on it.

Hence the jar of jelly beans that was now sitting on their dresser.

A moment of silence saw Sirius and James exchanging shocked expressions.

“Are those yours, Pads?”

“Heck no,” muttered Sirius in awe. “Yours?”

“I wish.”

“Moony’s, then?”

“Or Pete’s?”

“Pete won’t go any more than a metre near sweets, and-”

“And Moony won’t stay a metre without them,” chuckled James, finishing the sentence.

“So… d’you want to-”

“Moony would kill us,” said James hesitantly.

“But look at them!”

“Mmm, good point.”

“Acci-“

“HEY!” Yelled James, looking at a grinning Sirius.

“You think I’m going to share this tiny jar with you?”

“We can divide it!”

“No!”

A tense moment- really only tense because the two boys were trying too hard not to laugh while maintaining eye contact- was followed by James reaching over the desk for his wand.

“Oh, so you’re going to face me like a man?”

“I’m going to face you like you’d face me- an immature five year old acting like it’s the first time you’ve seen a wand.”

Sirius pulled a face, before replying “fair.”

“Acci-” started Sirius, before getting cut off.

“ACCIO!”

“Uh- LEVICORPUS!”

“PROTEGO!”

Suddenly, the spell bounced back onto Sirius, who held onto the side of the bed. “Real smooth, Prongs,” he deadpanned loudly.

James simply stuck his tongue out. But just as he was about to grab the jelly beans, he was hit with another, silent levicorpus, and a frankly rude- yet hilarious- grin.

So here the two of them were. Midair. Trying to grasp the jar of jelly beans.

“Acc-”

“Do you know any other spells, Pads?”

“This isn’t a class, is it?!”

“Fair, but-”

“Acc-”

“Epoximise!”

“Wh-” started Sirius, before his wand arm got stuck to the stealing above. “Y- you’re kidding.”

“No, I actually listen in class.”

“Listen my ass, how the hell do you undo this?!”

“I- I don’t actually no,” admitted James, bursting out into chortles.

Sirius just blinked in shock, trying hard not to laugh with James. “You- you- I-”

“I really can be smart sometimes, did you-”

But before James could complete that sentence, Sirius shouted “TARANTALLEGRA!”

“What does that even-”

Suddenly, Sirius’s Walkman was much louder, and James was swaying in an elegant dance with the air, very confusedly, to the beat of ‘Judy is a Punk’.

It truly was a sight for sore eyes.

It didn’t, however, stop James, who attempted to point his wand at the jelly beans. “Impedimenta!”

Suddenly, James’s hand jerked up, and the spell bounced right through the dorm door, probably somewhere else.

“Oh fuck,” muttered James. Sirius, on the other hand, looked two grams of sugar away from absolute and hysterical ecstasy.

“You think it’ll just disappear?” Asked James.

“You’re the one who listened in class,” mocked Sirius.

The sudden bang that sounded far away seemed to answer James’s question.

“Goddamnit,” cursed James, rolling his eyes.

“What the fuck did I just watch.”

Sirius’s heart skipped a beat at the familiar voice. Both of them turned their heads slowly, dreading what theyd see.

An extremely bewildered Remus was sitting upright in his bed.

“Um... James, would you like to explain?”

“That- very good question, Pads, really, I-”

But before James could finish that sentence, a crowd of chattering students appeared through the door. Silence fell over all of them, as they stared at James, still waltzing to the loud Ramones walkman, and Sirius glued to the ceiling.

“This is how it ends,” said Remus, his voice breaking the silence. “This is really how it fucking ends.”

[heart-eyes-kippen]

Alternate ending where Cyrus comes out to Jonah and TJ bc we deserve it

“Everyone’s got something they gotta deal with.”

Cyrus felt his stomach flip at those words.

If they were brave enough to confess some of their stuff, then surely he could be brave too. Right?

“It’s true,” he said timidly, walking slowly over to join the duo.

Both of their gazes were on him now, and he was almost certain his heart would burst with how fast it was racing.

“I - um...I’m...” he stalled, suddenly regretting his decision to speak at all. “Scared of flamingos!” he finished.

The words had come out automatically as a cover-up, and he could tell immediately that neither Jonah or TJ were buying it. He gave them both a nervous smile, before adding “Both real and fake.”

“For some weird reason, I feel like that’s not what you were gonna say, Cy.” TJ responded, shifting in his chair so that he was fully facing the boy. His tone had been light, but Cyrus could tell that he was worried.

The extra attention only served to intensify the butterflies in his stomach.

This was TJ and Jonah, he rationalised. Two of his best friends. They wouldn’t react badly. Would they?

He hesitantly looked up from his lap again, the words he wanted to say stuck in his throat.

“It’s okay, Cy-guy. We can go back to playing ping-pong if you’re not ready,” Jonah told him, a supportive smile on his lips as he stood up from his chair. TJ nodded in agreement and followed suit.

“Wait, no! I do want to tell you both. It’s just...I’ve only told two people in my whole life and I don’t want either of you hate me and-“

“Cyrus,” TJ interrupted gently, walking back over to him. “I could never hate you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do! Well...I think I do. Right now I know that, but after this...”

He wasn’t sure what exactly made him do it in the end. Maybe it was TJ’s soft smile, and the way his eyebrows were furrowed slightly in concern, or maybe it was the way Jonah was standing by him now, one of those bright smiles on his face that had the power to cheer people up in an instant.

Or maybe he was just tired of keeping this particular secret so guarded; worrying constantly that TJ or Jonah would pick up on it and that they’d be repulsed when they did.

“I’m gay,” he blurted, and surprisingly enough the world didn’t end right then and there.

Both boys were silent for a moment, and he was terrified that he had misread the situation somehow, but then he was being engulfed in a group hug.

He tried not to think about the irony of his current situation, but he honestly couldn’t help it. He was being hugged by his ex-crush and his current crush after coming out to both of them in one go.

He didn’t want to question any of it; all he knew was that he had just come out to two of the important people in his life, and he couldn’t feel any giddier.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” TJ told him as he pulled away.

“Yeah. We love you no matter what, Cy.”

He was still in slight disbelief as he smiled at the pair, his mind reeling with what he had just done. “Thanks, guys.” he responded, moving around them towards the table. “Now...who’s ready for some ping-pong? Drama-free this time!”

TJ and Jonah exchanged a fond look, before walking over to join the boy.

“I’ll play winner.” TJ said, looking over at Cyrus with a grin.

“You’re saying that like you’re sure he’ll win!” Jonah accused.

“That’s because he is sure.” Cyrus teased.

“Alright, Cy. Bring it on then!”

“Okay, I will!” he responded, pausing for a moment before serving. “I had a crush on you by the way.”

Jonah nearly dropped his paddle in shock, which resulted in him missing the ball completely.

“You can’t just say that when we���re about to play!” he spluttered, a disbelieving smile on his face.

“Oh sorry. Is that a rule now?”

Jonah gaped at him for a moment, before turning to TJ for back-up. The athlete just shrugged, so he turned back to Cyrus with an amused huff.

“...I kinda knew you liked me though.” he said, grinning playfully as he served.

It was Cyrus’ turn to miss the ball completely then.

“You what?!”

“Oh come on, I’m not that oblivious.”

The boy stared at him for a moment, before shaking his head. “That’s it. We’re starting a new game. No more bomb-dropping!”

Jonah and TJ exchanged another fond look.

There was no doubt that Cyrus was a dork, but he was a dork that they were both very grateful to have in their lives.

[colpeia]

Sungrass Oasis

~ Music ~

The crisp ocean breeze felt revitalizing and abrupt in such sunbaked air. Beneath an otherwise lavender sky, peach colors streaked around the sun as it hid behind a glittering turquoise horizon. Salty sea turtles roamed the shore.

On a large wooden deck overlooking the beach, a pair of tawny blood elves squatted over the sides of opposite lounge chairs.

A pensive sigh escaped Colpeia as she gazed up. “Well, at least we’re no longer hated for what we’re not.”

The solemn nature of Roholly’s nod didn’t stop the characteristically peppy bounce of her ponytail. She said nothing.

“What are mother and father going to do?”

“They’re returning to the glass forge,” Roholly said. “It’s still there, thankfully, and undamaged. So they’re going to continue running Beamgully Crystal like before.” She hesitated, an uncomfortable thought tugging her lips. “I’m honestly not sure whether Eversong Woods is going to welcome them back with awkward guilt, or the same scowls that made them leave. You know how they are about their craft, though.”

“Passionate.”

“I mean, it’s just as well. Finding a suitable place in Dalaran never got easier. Not for them at least.”

“Are you’re staying, then?” Colpeia asked.

There was gratitude in Roholly’s smile. She glimpsed at her feet. “Mhmm. I’ve already settled in, so it’s like, why return to Silvermoon? Why return to a place that was so quick to cast us out? People I had worked with for years acted like they’d never known me... It hurt.” The echo of grief leaking into her voice dropped to bitter sarcasm, “Really, I’d love to see how they deal with telling patients they need a root canal. They were far too sour. The people I work with now are a lot nicer.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“What about you though? Enough clientele?”

Colpeia huffed a laugh, “They haven’t stopped. Though, most of them have been architects. Civilians want to rebuild and protect themselves. After Lordaeron and what happened in Teldrassil, I’m not surprised.” She stopped, her humble expression heralding a confession. “Actually, because of the extra money, there is something else I want to do.”

“What’s that?” Roholly blinked, bewildered. “And honestly, why? Why work any harder when you’ve already such a solid income?”

“When this war started I was already tired. I’ve rested. Now I see a lot of other people tired. Tired, injured, and very sad. I want to give them a place to rest.” Unthinkingly, she turned to the hills winding just behind and beyond the beach house. They resembled dried and knotted-up honeycombs. “A place with soft seats and hot tea. Maybe somewhere in Gadgetzan.”

“That sounds ambitious when you don’t have a tribe to help you,” Roholly joked.

Colpeia looked back at her and returned a knowing smile.

She sat on the bed, her room under the blue blanket of midnight. A silvery glow brushed every contour. The window behind her was open, revealing distant waves glittering under a nearly full moon. Their rhythmic whisper was a soothing but everyday nostalgia to her while a cool draft carried its hush inside. Colpeia’s long stare sank into the vanity mirror against the wall. She looked as dazed as she felt.

Her motivation wasn’t purely altruistic, and she knew it. This was a time of war. She was plagued by an addiction only battles could feed - not for bloodlust or power, but an insatiable redemption she didn’t need in the first place. It spiraled her into a desperate black hole of this-still-isn’t-good-enough-to-absolve-me. If she dedicated herself to soothing survivors, it meant she couldn’t go to wanton lengths rescuing people in danger.

The mathematician knew a negative feedback loop when she saw one. Colpeia was Tildalune’s curse, which made her feel guilty, which piled onto her continued self-blame, which was Tildalune’s curse. She projected her acquaintance’s death onto people in danger only to re-experience severe personal failure if they weren’t saved. This trigger was unavoidable in wartime.

It was fortunate her tribe offered so many methods of mind-healing; they were helping. It couldn’t stop there, however. Constant over-exposure didn’t help to desensitize her, but a change in environment might.

How does one stop a negative feedback loop? Replace the causing variable. After Tildalune’s death, she had fantasies of nurturing her back to health and providing comfort. What if Colpeia frequently did something that she would associate with this ‘fake memory’? She could soothe people who survived danger, instead of succeeding or failing as their white knight.

She could learn to stop. She could focus on how she’d grown to care about Tildalune instead of how she’d failed her.

Tildalune’s spirit could be free to move on. She promised.

A vague breath of a silhouette flashed the corner of her eye, and a honeyed voice beamed in her head:

It’s time. Run, my sweet desert gazelle. It’s waiting for you. You know I’ll be right behind you.

For the next week Colpeia was a montage of sending proposal letters, receiving terms, ordering equipment, and huddling over a floor plan.

In an eclipse-like flash, holding a crescent pendant, she vanished. Colpeia reappeared amidst the celestial themed tents and Silithus-esque crystals floating above the ground. Presenting her floor plan to a gradually swelling group, she delved into thorough detail - the aesthetic, the business plan, the modest building she’d be renting, the spirit of the lounge. The appraising eyes mulling over her words eventually exchanged amenable glances.

Several yards from the shore, a herd of camels sped majestically across the gold sand, their hooves kicking up clouds in their wake. Thick ribbons of cloth gracefully fluttered behind their human and elven riders. Gadgetzan drew nearer.

Slowing to a saunter through the dusty port town, the half-dozen Shafise approached the clay dome building Colpeia had described. Knicks of moderate wear greeted them.

The following month was a slew of repairs, painting, tiling, heaving furniture, positioning lights atop secured ladders, and repositioning ornaments. Regularly catered at the entrance were water and food fine enough to convey a grateful gesture. 

Sungrass Oasis was ready to open.

Colpeia sat over the bar scanning over a collection of slender menus. They catalogued an overwhelming list of loose-leaf and blooming flower teas. The rest were fanciful snacks: clamlette magnifique, clam chowder, goblin deviled clams, firebloom crab cakes, cactus fruit salad, Shafisian desert dumplings, hot roc wings, fried scorpid, and prickly pear sorbet. She wasn’t initially pleased about needing a supply of meat, until a goblin explained they always had these ingredients leftover after pest control and harbor maintenance. It was good they didn’t go to waste. This would also give the Shafise tribe the opportunity to showcase some of their traditional recipes along with blends.

Though a hole-in-the-wall, it was contemporary chic and polished, a message of modern class that she knew would hook the landlord’s interest. The floor was tiled in sleek black, and the walls painted white, brought to life by voguish artwork. Framed in thick, black frames, the paintings were as soothing as they were stylish. They depicted modern abstract, turquoise beaches, and desert blossoms. A few were pieces that might have been pretentious in another setting, but somehow felt innocently trendy here. Two of them were offset by equidistant sandstone bowls resting in tasteful square impressions on the wall. Sweeping glass sculptures ribboned with solid colors, some glittering in the light, added bold character. Most of them were feet tall and stood on the floor.

On each black chair was a plush, pale yellow cushion. Filled with sand, sea glass, and shells, a candle resting in a glass bowl embellished every table, along with a daisy in a white vase. A handful of firebloom petals were strewn about them. 

Outdoor seating overlooking the beach waited behind a thick curtain. It ironically had more space than inside. Fit for a posh vacation photograph, a pergola strung with lanterns hung over the display, with translucent lilac curtains draped to the sides. To keep customers warm in the chilly desert evenings, a gemstone fire pit sat in the middle. The area was lined with potted, flowering cacti and a low wicker-weave fence. In place of daises were 

One task remained before it opened: Reach out to old friends.

[daddyd0nt]

i feel exhausted watching all the mental gymnastics you’re doing in order to justify interacting with pedophiles as a grown adult (yes, a grown adult, you’re not a child at 20 years old.) like, you can’t just admit that it was a shitty thing to do that you did for selfish reasons? i don’t think you’re scum of the earth or anything but jesus take some responsibility

I dont think it was that shitty. Ripping off decent people who commissioned respectable art would have been a shitty thing to do. I took money from people who wanted descriptions of children being raped and never delivered on a product. This wasn't something I advertised, I just advertised that I was a writer and these men came to me themselves with requests so disgusting that I eventually had to stop for my own mental health. Maybe I should have just told them to fuck off instead of saying "sure Ill write that for $200" and taking their money, it would have led to a few shorter conversations but once the request was made I kind of felt like I was owed the money regardless of my lack of intention to fill the order just for hearing their gross shit. I didn't advertise "Hey Pedos if u want a pedo story ill write one for you" like I said any girl who does sex work gets propositioned by pedophiles eventually, usually through some cultural loophole like "I want u to be a girl scout and sell me cookies" or "I want you to be the student and Im the teacher and u need ur grade changed" or "u have pigtails and a stuffed animal and are calling me daddy" like these are not even uncommon requests but if I had to hear them anyway since I was advertising my services as an erotica writer and people would come into my inbox unsolicited and make these gross requests i decided i could either get upset and gain nothing or allow myself to be exposed to a little more upsetting talk in exchange for enough money to stay high for a week. If pretending not to be freaked out for the 20 minutes it took to get him comfortable enough to send the money was how I was getting high that day, thats what I was going to do. My only regret is not just getting their addresses/pretending to arrange a meetup and smashing their skulls in with a hammer. But I didn't "entertain pedophiles" I did the opposite, they paid me for entertainment and i took their money and bounced, the pedophiles gained nothing from these interactions and on average lost about $200 a pop. It was completely selfish and immature and I got in way in over my head and wound up having a breakdown and having to be hospitalized its nothing I would do today because I know better but at the time enough of my friends were strippers/FSSWs I had the encouragement of my social circle and was told that what I was doing was empowering and that I was punishing these guys for being pedos by swindling them and in a way it felt like I was taking the power back from the men who victimized me but i didn't like do cybersex with these guys or anything I presented myself very professionally and had a form for order requests like it wasn't like I had to have extended contact with these guys but my brain wasn't thinking "oh my god, a pedophile, what a shocking thing to deal with" it was thinking "$200 is a lot of money to do essentially nothing" again I admit that it was selfish and immature and I was deep in the libfem rabbit hole so I was being cheered on by anybody who I informed of my activities and told that I was "empowering myself" but like I said these were not long conversations it was "are u taking commissions" "yes, 5000 word story for $200 or $100 per 1k words, please fill out the form of my profile" and theyd fill out the form detailing the gross shit they wanted, sometimes I didnt even read them especially toward the end but these were not extensive interactions this was a 6 message exchange very cut and dry and professional I didn't have to do anything to get these gross moids comfortable dropping what I would have made in a week working retail on disgusting "erotica" and i knew the more disgusting/taboo the easier I could threaten these guys with exposure if they tried to demand a refund. IDK im not going to say im ashamed of robbing people who deserved to be robbed but it certainly isnt something id re-involve myself in.

But Id be more ashamed if Id done something like steal a $5 bill off a desk in an unlocked bedroom to afford drugs or overcharged a freshman while middle-manning. I never fucked over anybody who didn't 100% deserve it

[voidselfshipp]

Running Away

Cw: abusive mother, running away, slight violence, food ment.

Ok to rb.

Its late, the whole neighborhood is silent as sean helps jerico pack up the last bits of luggage to run away from home.

He gets in the car, as soon as he opens the door for her, Jers mother runs out into the yard, trying to Grab her.

Quickly, the mutant gets in the car, and her boyfriend hits the pedal speeding off into the distance.

Both laugh as jerico leans back Into the Seat, seans hand on her thigh caressing it.

-- Next stop home!-- he said smiling.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

--come on jerico! Hurry up!-- logan whispered shouted to jerico as he packed up the car.

She runs to the Man as her mother chased after her.

She hides behind the mutant who protectively puffs his chest out.

--Jerico! Come back here!

--Not happening Lady-- said the mutant-- get in the car sweetcheeks

Jerico enters the car looking away as logan exchanges some not so friendly words with her mother.

As soon as he gets in the car , he drives off with Jers mother screaming in the distance.

Jerico herself was tired, leaning on her boyfriends shoulder as he drove.

-- its okay doll-- whispered the Man-- we'll get home soon, dont worry, ill wake you up

She nodds, closing her eyes as he softly humms to her.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Angel knew a thing or two about bad parents, so here he was at two am, picking up jerico, ready to run away with her.

With help of Peter, they moved her stuff quickly to th mansion the day before.

-- Warren!-- shouted jerico running to him, or trying as her mother grabbed her arm.

--jerico!-- he screamed running up to her, breaking the grasp on her arm, he hugs her covering with his wings.

Shes crying as she puts her face on his chest, he holds her walking with her.

When the mother tries to approach them he pushes her back with his wings, sitting with jer on the motorcycle.

--you dont get to make my baby weep-- he said threatingly,taking the handlebar of the motorcycle.

She was infront of him and his wings wrapped around her keeping her safe.

He speeds off with her, the cold air dries away her tears.

The feathers tickles Her, and he gets to listen to her beautiful laughter again.

Warren carried jerico to their New dorm, the one theyd share.

He'd make sure she'd be safe.

~~~~~~~~~

--not one step closer!-- Warned gambit, a wall of kinetic energy separated jerico from her mother.

Remy is holding her off, and ettiene got jer into the car, he signals his brother to get in there with them.

He lets the wall down and gets into the Passenger Seat.

--hold on tight Cherie, its gonna get rowdy-- growled gambit before hitting the speed pedal,the tires screech And the car zooms out of there.

--Lets getcha some food, mcdonalds maybe?

Both men heard a happy squeal-- yes!

~~~~~~~~~

Peter checked the time, jer might have Fallen asleep, so, with her things all moved in to the mansion, he speeds I to her house and grabs her and her stuff, and zooms out of there before her mother realizes.

He carried her to bed and covered her with the blankets, he yawns and lays besides her, caressing her forearm softly.

~~~~~~~

--Ah there we go, all packed up-- said Erik, closing the cars Trunk.

Jerico gets in the car, sitting on Charles' lap, who kisses the back of her neck.

--uh Charles-- said magneto as he got in the car-- we have incoming...

Before jer can say anything Charles freezes jericos mom in place, and tells Erik to drive off.

-- well...that went smooth

Both men chuckle.

--Of course it did

~~~~~~~~~~

Kurt didnt know how to handle conflict well, but here he was, picking jerico up.

He grabs her-- all ready to go mein schatz?

-- yep!--she kisses him-- thank you for helping me out

--whenever you need me-- he said nuzzling in her neck to then poof into their room-- ill bring you some snacks later ja? Im im sure you must be tired

Jer nodds laying down on the bed.

Kurt sits with her and caresses her hair.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ororo grabbed jericos hand as they Walked into her car, the mutant made the Sky dark with clouds, its raining, more like puouring down to try and stop anyone who dares intervene with her rescue mission.

When they got Into the car,storm turns on the radio, the heating already drying them off.

Driving off to their New home jerico and ororo hold hands.

Things were getting better.

~~~~~~~~~

[midnightluck]

I read a fic a long time ago where the characters somehow got cursed or something to have all the things that people said about them appear on their skin (like if someone called them 'cute' theyd have'cute' stamped on their hand or somewhere else. i was thinking about this somehow happening to ace and the wbp (or mas or the asl), like they eat a crazy grand line fruit, and for the most part its pretty innocuous and funny, except that ace has stuff like 'should have been drowned at birth' 1/2

on his face (basically a lot of bad things people said from when he was a kid doing that ‘what if gold roger had a son’ thing. Maybe he would try to cover up, since there would some pretty incriminating stuff on there? basically id just really like some hurt/comfort with ace and sabo/marco/wbp in this scenario. he is a sad boy (sorry this all long and confusing, you dont have to do it at all if you dont want) 2/2     

Oh, I’ve read those too! There was a Kakashi one I loved, I think, and a real good Tony Stark one! It’s a fun concept.

Also I got, uh, a bit carried away. So, y’know, sorry in advance. (edit: now with prequel)

–

“I’m not sick,” Ace says stubbornly. “I’m a fire logia. I can’t get sick.” And then he sneezes, sharp and sudden.

“Bad timing, with that sickness you don’t have,” Thatch says. “We’ve still got two more days out here.”

“I know; don’t worry,” Ace says, scooting back from the fire. “I’ll just run hot for a while and be fine.”

“Does that work?” Haruta asks, leaning away from him and the heat he’s suddenly throwing.

“Dunno,” Ace answers. “I haven’t been sick since I ate my fruit. Honestly thought I was immune.”

He doesn’t look happy, and Thatch can see why. Being sick is always miserable, and worse if you’re not used to it. He knows he packed an extra blanket, though, because Marco denies his nesting tendencies and yet always ends up stealing everyone’s bedding. He digs it out and hands it over. Ace glances at him and he shrugs. “If you want it,” he offers, and sets it on the ground.

Ace reaches for it, then pauses to stare at his hand for a second. Thatch doesn’t get a chance to follow suit because suddenly the blanket is flipped open and wrapped around bare shoulders.

Thatch and Marco share a worried glance. Ace never uses blankets, and he doesn’t accept help that easily either. And Ace isn’t even using it like a blanket; he’s got it wrapped around his back and over his head like a makeshift cape.

“You sure you’re feeling all right?” Thatch ventures.

“I can’t be sick,” Ace says, but he’s just a lump of blanket now. “I can’t.”

“Because you’re fire?” Marco asks.

“I’m from East Blue,” Ace says like it’s an explanation, but it really isn’t.  It’s interesting, but as far as Thatch knows, there’s nothing about East Blue that makes its residents any hardier. The five of them exchange glances, but they must agree with him, because Haruta drawls out, “Yeah…?”

SThe lump of blanket twitches and hesitates but finally says, “I had the crawl.”

“The what now?” Vista asks. Thatch stops to think, but there’s actually not many on the crew from East Blue; it’s by far the most peaceful sea.

But Marco makes an oh kind of noise. “There’s a disease in East Blue,” he says, because of course he knows. “Childhood thing, like chicken pox or flower fever. It’s really bad but almost never fatal, yoi. It compromises the immune system for the rest of your life, though,” and there’s some worried looks until he adds, “not harmfully! But when you get sick, it comes back, yoi.”

“Oh!” Namur interrupts, “It’s the ink sickness!” Marco arches an eyebrow at him, and he nods. “I’ve seen it before in certain parts of Paradise. That’s out East Blue way; probably spread from the Grand Line somehow.”

That sounds likely, actually. It’s the kind of thing that makes only Grand Line levels of sense, after all, but Namur’s not done. “We were taught it was a curse that went wrong, back in my tribe. Some rich man in a castle said something rude, and he was cursed to wear other people’s words on his skin or something.”

Marco nods and takes the story back. “The Scrawl means that if Ace is sick, he’ll be covered in ink till he’s better, yoi. It’s all stuff people will have said about him to his face, isn’t it?”

Ace says nothing, but Namur nods. “Stuff said about you in your hearing that you believe,” he clarifies. “My niece had it as a kid. Always real proud when she gets sick because she says wearing complements is the best accessory.”

The blanket twitches again, and Thatch steps in. “We’re gonna respect Ace’s privacy,” he announces. “If he’s really sick and he gets all decorated up with complements, we’re not gonna try to read them, okay?”

He glances around, but everyone’s staring at him. “What?” he asks.

Marco shakes his head. “Didn’t expect that from you, is all,” he says, and Thatch puffs himself up.

“I’m very mindful of people’s privacy!” he says, and everyone laughs at him. Well, that’s not nice at all, but at least it broke the mood. “I am!”

“Sure you are,” Ace says, finally talking again. He’s got the blanket pulled back enough to show his face and it’s just as it always was. “You respect privacy, and I’m never hungry.”

Thatch clutches his chest and falls over with his other wrist over his eyes. “Betrayed!” he gasps, because if keeping eyes on him is what’s getting Ace to calm down, he will gladly flop around overdramatically for the rest of the night.

And it works, because as they chat and pick at Thatch, Ace’s makeshift hood comes down. He falls asleep well before the rest of them, and whether it’s a narcolepsy attack or just exhaustion, no one says anything when Marco leans over to tug the blanket into place, covering all his skin.

–

Thatch blinks himself awake in the morning light. Right, they’re outside, coming back from that thing–right. He yawns and sits up; he’s never been slow to rise. Years as head chef on a pirate ship mean he’s generally up first.

Sure enough, everyone else is asleep. It’s false dawn, so it’s to be expected. He gets up anyway, stretching and looking around.

The fire’s gone out; someone must’ve banked it last night. He goes over to check on Ace, but the kid is curled into as small a ball as possible. The blanket’s ridden up over his feet, though, and Thatch can see jagged black streaks even from here. He steps forward, intending to tug the blanket down, but he can’t get close; the air around Ace is painfully hot.

Well, Marco can do it when he wakes up, Thatch decides. He’s got some time to kill, anyway; may as well take a walk. He might find a good place to watch the sunrise from; that’d be nice.

Well, he doesn’t see the sunrise, but he does find a tree with a bunch of those lovely purple fruits they had back in town. He picks enough to hand around for breakfast and a few more to take back to Pops.

By the time he gets back, everyone’s awake and up. “Good morning!” he says, and starts throwing fruits at people.

Haruta catches the first one in the face, but everyone else manages to grab theirs out of the air. Namur tosses his right back, and Thatch catches it easily and passes it on to Marco to give to Ace.

He drops the rest on his blanket and rolls them up carefully to take back. When he makes room in his sack, though, his fingers come across a marker that’s always at the bottom of his pack, and he takes it out before packing the fruit in.

He walks it through his fingers as he wanders over to Marco, who’s standing above Ace. “How is he?”

Marco makes a face and together they stare down at the blanket-covered kid. “You gotta get up eventually,” Thatch tells him.

The unhappy grumbling and shifting says that Ace does not agree, and the heat he’s putting out is enough to stop Thatch from trying to, uh, help. “Look, we’ll all turn away or something, okay? You can keep the blanket.”

Ace doesn’t move, and Thatch gives up. “You do it, Marco,” he says. “You’re the fireproof one.”

“I’m not fireproof.” Marco says even as he walks right into the heat haze like it’s nothing.

“Sure,” Haruta says, walking by, and Thatch catches their wrist. “Hey, what’re you–”

Thatch holds a finger over his lips and then wiggles the marker. Haruta’s eyes light up and they nod. “Yeah, can you–”

“Shhh!”

“We ready, yoi?” Marco walks purposefully between them, trailing what’s probably Ace. Hard to tell under the blanket cloak, but there’s one hand poking out to clutch it closed with a bold BRAT across the back of it.

Thatch darts his eyes away, feeling kind of bad. He hadn’t meant to read it, really, but it’s hard not to. He lets Ace and Marco go first, shouldering his pack and falling in step with Haruta.

There’s more black peeking out of the top of Ace’s boots where the blanket doesn’t quite cover, and Thatch keeps his gaze anywhere else. It’s an awkward kind of quiet, much different from yesterday’s bawdy jokes and loud off-key marching songs. Now the only sounds are the nature around them and occasional violent sneezes.

Haruta tugs at his sleeve, and they pass the marker back and forth for awhile. Thatch waves it behind them and Vista reaches out to take it, too. He promptly tries to use it on Namur, and there’s a quick scuffle.

It’s loud enough for Marco to turn around, though. He walks backwards for a few steps, looking them all over. “Everything okay, yoi?”

“Just fine,” Haruta lies breezily.

Marco stares at them for a few steps, so Thatch makes a spinny-finger gesture at him. He huffs but complies, and leans in a bit to mutter something to the Ace-like thing shambling along beside him. It’s probably about how dumb they are, but that’s okay.

“How does he do it?” Vista asks. “I can feel the heat from all the way back here.”

Ace sneezes again and said heat flares, and everyone but Marco flinches and falls back a few steps. “Marco likes fire,” Thatch says, hoping he’s right. “He doesn’t mind. Probably feels right at home.”

“Any hotter and he’s gonna combust,” Haruta mutters, and like their words were a trigger, Ace sneezes once again, the heat flares,  and the blanket on his back catches fire.

They all jump and Vista says something exceptionally nasty. Marco moves in, hands hovering uselessly, and Ace whips the blanket off to beat out the flame.

Thatch wasn’t expecting it, really, which is why he doesn’t look away in time–that’s totally why. It’s not his fault, he knows, and yet when his eyes catch on the giant letters across the back of Ace’s shoulders, above his tattoo, he still feels like he’s betraying something.

He feels that for the whole time it takes to unconsciously read and process the word “monster,” and then he just goes still. Ace is turned away, stomping out the flames, and they all know at a glance what exactly it was that Ace hadn’t wanted them to see.

His tattoo stands out as much as ever, but it’s framed now. Monster at the top, all the way across both shoulders, and underneath in a beautiful scrollwork there’s should’ve been drowned at birth.

Thank god you don’t exist crawls down his ribs, and there’s one word sentiments scattered around, all stark and pretty in concept and horrifying in meaning. Thatch, for all his good intentions, can’t bring himself to look away and his ears are full of the echo of Namur’s voice saying, stuff said about you in your hearing that you believe.

“Ace,” Marco says, quiet and hurt, and Ace’s shoulders go rigid under that horrible ink. He turns slowly to face them, smouldering blanket in one fist. There’s defiance in his eyes and mistake across his freckles.

Someone next to Thatch makes a wheezing sound, but he doesn’t look to see who because when Ace turns his head and tilts his chin up in anger, they can all read should do the world a favor and die circling his throat.

He’s a tapestry of horror and cruelty, and it’s all on display. Thatch’s eyes wander and the only remotely positive things he finds are the two brothers, curved dense and close over his heart, and captain curled over one wrist.

And then Ace falters. “What…?” he says, staring at Haruta, and Thatch glances over to where he’d written family across their forehead. He winces now, but it had seemed like such a good idea at the time.

In the face of this, though, their marker attempts look stupid and insulting. “Sorry,” Thatch says, and holds out the marker. “I had it and it seemed like–I’m sorry, I didn’t know….”

Ace blinks at them. “Why would you…?” he asks, confusion plain, and that hurts almost more than the words do. Things you believe, Thatch thinks again, and he’s suddenly angry.

“Because we’re your family, Ace!” he says. “And you were sick and scared of–and we wanted to make it even! And I never had the Scrawl but I do have a marker, and if you don’t believe us enough to get our words on your skin, then cut back the damn heat and I’ll put ‘em there myself!”

Ace’s chin comes down a bit; he’s defensive but actually listening. “It doesn’t…that’s not how it works.”

“Bullshit,” Marco snaps, and Thatch tosses him the marker. He uncaps it and steps in, ignoring Ace’s flinch. “If what’s true is on your skin, yoi, then what’s on your skin is true.” And he writes family, big and bold, under his left collarbone and right over you’re a curse.

“Loved,” Thatch lists, and Ace flinches again but stays still while Marco grabs his arm to write that over print small enough that Thatch can’t read it from here.

“Cute,” Haruta adds, and Ace goes a deeper red than a fever would account for. Marco nods and puts it right under the double brother.

“Hey now,” he says, trying to pull away, but Marco’s not having it. “Hey!” he says again, but he’s not struggling, and when Marco pulls at his shoulder to spin him around, he goes.

His shoulders are tense and high when Marco puts marker to skin, but as Whitebeard goes over monster, he relaxes a bit. “This really isn’t–”

Marco draws a long line through the awful sentence below his tattoo, and then does a few more just to black it out completely. He sets to work crossing out things and writing better ones, and Ace stands there, still holding the blanket, and lets him.

And then Vista shakes himself and says, “Give him a tramp stamp.”

“What?!”

“Oh, yes, do!” Haruta adds. “Make it say ‘pretty’!”

“No!” Ace says, stepping forward and turning. “No, that’s not–we’re done…!” He’s still surrounded by a heat haze that makes it impossible to approach, but Marco steps forward anyway.

“Come back here, yoi,” he says, and Ace tries to flee.

He makes it a few steps before Marco tackles him and sits on his legs. He puts the marker to work again as Ace claws at the ground and yells about how pretty he isn’t, and he only stops to sneeze three times.

“When you’re not too hot to approach, you can return the favor,” Namur points out, and when Ace immediately goes quiet he adds, “but it was Thatch’s idea!”

“Was not!” Thatch squawks, turning on him. “Haruta drew first!”

“You gave me the marker!”

“You used it!”

And it’s the dumbest argument Thatch has had in a long time, because yeah, he’s obviously at fault. He’s got idiot on one forearm and brother on his wrist and all right at cooking, I guess, on the back of his neck in permanent marker, but up ahead, Ace is laughing, and that’s more than worth it.

--

More scrawl fic: (ASL as kids) (Adult!Sabo)

[sky-scribbles]

The Adaar Backstory, part 2

The saga of Inquisitor Talan Adaar and his family continues, with added angst and drama! First part is here. 

Part Two, in which everything goes wrong.

Happiness can’t last forever in any backstory I give my OCs.

When Meraad came into her magic, her family tried very hard to keep it secret. In Rivain, apostasy wasn’t quite as unforgivable as in other provinces, but they knew they might be shunned by their neighbours - their only source of coin - if people found out. Templars and prejudiced neighbours weren’t the only problem; Aban and Issala had always been taught that mages were ‘dangerous things,’ and while they didn’t believe for a moment that their sweet, shy daughter could corrupt anyone, they knew she could be vulnerable to demon possession. They also had no idea how to help her.

They considered leaving their home and travelling to find one of the famous Rivaini hedge mages, who might give Meraad some training, but it never came to that. One of their neighbours was, in fact, an undercover Ben-Hassrath agent who had been posted in the village to keep an eye on the family. The Adaars lived close enough to Qunari lands to be considered a potential threat, even though they didn’t raid and cause trouble like most Tal-Vashoth, so they were kept watched. The agent worked out that Meraad was a mage, and reported to the Qunari, who sent an Arvaarad to deal with the problem. Even if it was outside their official territory, they wouldn’t allow a Saarebas so close to their own lands.

Now, the Arvaarad in question was, as his kind go, not a bad sort. He genuinely respected, even cared for, the mages in his care, admiring their struggle against corruption and doing what he could to help them. He saw them as perfect embodiments of the self-sacrifice demanded by the Qun. When ordered to deal with this Vashoth mage, he didn’t choose what most Arvaarads in his position would have - just killing her and getting it done with. Instead, he decided that the girl should have a chance to be brought to the enlightenment of the Qun and serve her people. His superiors were willing to give him a bit of free reign, because he always got good results with the Karataams he commanded.

So Arvaarad led a small party to the Adaar settlement and demanded that they hand over Meraad. Naturally, the family refused. They tried to fight, but Issala - who had no combat skills - was killed quickly, and Aban was seriously wounded. When the Arvaraad grabbed Meraad and wrenched her away, Talan knew his best chance was to stay and heal his father rather than keep fighting and inevitably be killed himself.

As soon as Aban was healed, father and son set off together to find Meraad. Talan had to say his farewells to Aisha - who was heartbroken, but who completely understood that Talan needed to save his sister, and that it was too dangerous for them to ever return to the village. Years later, I think she’ll get wind of the fact that her former boyfriend is now Inquisitor, and will travel to Skyhold to see what she can do to help. She’ll end up as an assistant to the Quartermaster (she’ll end up doing half his work for him), and maaaybe will eventually get together with Cullen.

Now for a completely new bit of backstory.

In my most recent Inquisition playthrough, I found myself chatting with Bull about Seheron. For some reason I don’t think I’ve had that conversation with him before - I must have somehow just missed it - so when he started talking about the Fog Warriors, I was suddenly struck by something. Fog Warriors use alchemy to create fog, then attack from stealth.

Talan Adaar is a Tempest rogue, a talented alchemist, and a stealth master. He, along with his father, also spent years tracking Meraad across Par Vollen and Seheron. He despises the Qun-loyal, and knows how to survive in the wilderness.

It suddenly seems obvious to me: Talan and his father ran with the Fog Warriors for some of that time. That was where Talan went from someone who whipped together useful potions for his family to sell, to a man who used potions in combat. That was where he learned to melt into shadows, despite being six foot nine and built like a mountain. The Adaars probably had a mutually beneficial exchange with the rebels - they fought with the Warriors, and the Warriors helped them get information about where Meraad might be.

Talan found a second love with the Warriors - one of their number, a young woman whose name I haven’t decided on yet but will possibly be called Hasa (and there’s a slim chance of me someday creating her as an Inquisitor.) She was born a Fog Warrior, knew Seheron and the art of alchemy-aided fighting like the back of her hand, and was rather amused by Talan’s ignorance. Though a little snappish with him at first, seeing him as having lead a soft and easy life while she’d been fighting since she was a child, she took him under her wing and taught him the Fog Warrior arts. Thus, Talan became a dual-wielding rogue and gained the abilities he’d one day adapt into the Tempest arts. He and Hasa shared a deep love, but for a painfully short time. The Warriors unearthed a lead about Meraad, and Aban and Talan had to leave to pursue it.

So, what was going on with Meraad all this time?

The Qunari brought her into he Saarebas life with double their normal force, believing they had to stamp out the taint of her having lived in the world outside the Qun. Meraad, crushed and suffering both physically and emotionally, accepted what she was told about being a monster and her magic being a vile destructive force... but she never forgot her family. She didn’t forget that she loved them, and while she never harboured thoughts of rebellion or escape, she refused to forget her childhood. She even created a secret method to remind herself of her former life: every night, she recited the Qun chant (as best as anyone can whose lips are sewn shut) that includes the words, ‘meraad astaarit, meraad itwasit, aban aqun.’ To her Arvaarad, it seemed she was just being an obedient Saarebas reciting the Qun, but she was of course reminding herself of her real name, and that of her father. Often she’d add, on finishing, ‘this is the truth, and all else is dust’ - thus working in her brother and mother’s names, too.

She lived like this for five years, until Talan and Aban tracked her down using the Fog Warriors’ information. She and her Arvaarad were being sent, along with a small military force, to take out some troublesome Tal-Vashoth bandits. It was the first chance the Adaars had had to rescue her when she wasn’t accompanied by other mages - they knew that killing her Arvaarad would lead to any Qun-loyal mages in her Karataam killing themselves, so they had to wait until Meraad was the only mage in the group.

Thus, as the party travelled, the Adaars interrupted them en route with some alchemical fog. While the Qunari were blundering about in it, Talan and Aban took out a few of them with some well-aimed stealth strikes, wounding the Arvaarad; then Aban managed to lead the bulk of them away. Meraad, knowing she was expected to stay with her Arvaarad at all times, stuck with him while the rest of their group rushed off after Aban. It was the perfect opportunity for Talan to break his cover and challenge the Arvaarad.

When Arvaarad saw what he thought was a Fog Warrior looming out of the mist, his first thought was to protect his Saarebas charge. He jumped in front of her, tried to parry Talan’s blows, but quickly realised he was at a disadvantage. He shouted to his Saarebas to help, and she obediently raised a fireball to do so - and it was in that moment that Talan shouted her name, and she finally recognised her brother.

Without really thinking about what she was doing, she directed her fire at the Arvaarad instead.

A moment later, she was utterly terrified by what she’d done, but Talan was able to calm her enough for him to destroy her control device and unlock her chains. Moments later, Aban joined them, but he didn’t have much of a lead on the Qunari - they’d finally realised he was trying to distract them. The Adaars ran for it - but as they did, an Ashaad (maybe even one of Aban’s former comrades, for maximum angst) hurled a spear at him that struck him in the back.

Aban wrenched it out, hurled it back at their pursuers, and told his children to run. He knew that with his wound, he’d only slow them down - so instead, he stayed, and bought Talan and Meraad the time to escape with his blood.

With the stealth skills he’d been taught, Talan was able to get Meraad to safety and lose the pursuing Qunari. Their struggles, though, were far from over.

Part 3

[sorcieresque]

naisy gossip from the past couple of days on: ai’s shapeshifting and the legitimacy thereof, the shape of daisy’s head, trans troubles, daisy being offended by her implied sluttiness, a detour to dick jokes,  a detour from dick jokes to feelings jamming, a detour about ines’s annoyingness factor, lesbian island and clea

nickatnightwalker brief interjection: you doing okay with tweedle drunk and tweedle drunker over there?

sorcieresque Are you.

nickatnightwalker well, ive been completely cured of the siren charm probably forever

sorcieresque Good. He's not that cute either way. Tyler's a mess. It's embarrassing.

nickatnightwalker it's amazing how fast my interest in either of them dropped.  like watching a rock plummet off the empire state building and then kill some passers by

nickatnightwalker anyway me and damian are going for a walk until their blood alcohol levels drop below .6. wanna come

sorcieresque I take a low res picture, fry it, and caption the rock in comic sans: My interest, the passers-by Tyler's chances of getting laid, the empire state building is captioned God. I'm not going to third wheel you. I’ll have you know I have better social skills than that.

nickatnightwalker this is an escape run daise take it or leave it

sorcieresque Fine. This doppelganger fiasco is getting boring either way.

nickatnightwalker shes not real good is she

sorcieresque No. Having a 3D mirror was fun for all about twenty minutes, which makes for better bragging rights than most people have ever had. She should be proud.

nickatnightwalker now do you get what i mean about your head being weird shaped

sorcieresque Fuck you. My head is perfectly round.

nickatnightwalker round ish

sorcieresque Your face is round-ish.

nickatnightwalker no it's not my jawline is the only good thing my dad ever gave me and you cant erase that fact

sorcieresque I could if I wanted to. Take back that my head is weird-shaped.

nickatnightwalker you cant change my face

sorcieresque I can and I shall.

nickatnightwalker cant and shant

sorcieresque Take it back.

nickatnightwalker you must have seen it though

sorcieresque I was too busy being mesmerized by the acute angles of my cheekbones.

nickatnightwalker huh you really missed an opportunity there then

sorcieresque Let a shapeshifter pour themselves into an unholy you-shaped mold and then you shall throw stones.

nickatnightwalker absolutely not hey do you think ai could even turn into me she doesnt really know what i look like

sorcieresque What do you mean.

nickatnightwalker i mean it's not like ive stripped and tap danced through the quad shes gonna get shit wrong

sorcieresque Right. I assumed that was left to her vague interpretation. It's not like she knows what the hot goods look like beneath my skirts.

nickatnightwalker kind of unsettling maybe everythings just barbie and ken under there when she turns into us

sorcieresque On a scale of one to very, how rude would it be to ask her to take her clothes off.

nickatnightwalker for you i think she would happily

sorcieresque I know. It's charming. My intentions are only pure and scientific.

nickatnightwalker that part she might not love

sorcieresque That sounds like a her-problem.

nickatnightwalker itll be a you problem if she says no

sorcieresque What if she knows how to mold us to a T.

nickatnightwalker how could she possibly

sorcieresque Magic? (Finger waving, etc.)

nickatnightwalker no, she has to know what somethign looks like to be it theres no way shes gotta just be vague nothing underneath

sorcieresque Then what's the big deal. Don't be a pussy.

nickatnightwalker well excuse me for being reluctant if the odds arent 100% against her finding out ive GOT one

sorcieresque What, did you forget you're not the only one in the world? She didn't seem to know about me.

nickatnightwalker theres a lot less to guess on with you daise

nickatnightwalker no offense but im pretty sure everyone heres seen you shirtless or close enough to to make a good approximately of nearly everything going on up there

nickatnightwalker and most of us have seen your ass too

sorcieresque That's an exaggeration, but you're welcome. There is not "less" going on with me, just different issues in the downstairs department.

nickatnightwalker no, not less, just less that people dont know about it's the public semi-nudity daise

sorcieresque You make it sound a lot worse than it is.

sorcieresque You'd think after all these years you wouldn't be so scandalized of my alleged indecency.

nickatnightwalker oh no im not but everyone else isnt hardened to it yet

sorcieresque Haha. Hardened.

nickatnightwalker i dont get it can you explain?

sorcieresque Penis Havers + Sight of Skin = Profit.

nickatnightwalker hm. yknow ive always managed it without the sight of skin part?

sorcieresque Ooh, Mr. Nick, ooh.

sorcieresque The mere sight of your melaninless face sends every phallus in a two mile radius from solid to mega solid.

nickatnightwalker you joke and yet

sorcieresque Deepthroating a banana is cheating.

nickatnightwalker no it is NOT besides thats just how i eat them

sorcieresque Perhaps you and Ines are much more similar than you'd like to believe.

nickatnightwalker please, as if she could eat a banana like i can

sorcieresque She can unhinge her jaw, Nick.

nickatnightwalker you got me there but that really seems like a sacrifice in terms of pressure and suction

sorcieresque I suddenly don't care about this.

nickatnightwalker some principles are universal daisy

sorcieresque I hardly see how unhinging your jaw would aid one outside of pleasing the mighty sword of Venus, oh Great Kahuna of Oral Sex.

nickatnightwalker itd kinda be win some lose some just because youd get greater range of motion but lose a lot of use of your lips

sorcieresque Not that this conversation isn't dripping mystery and pulsing with excitement, but are you okay.

nickatnightwalker what oh yeah he just asked if i like being human

nickatnightwalker like...idk man do i like that ive been consigned to a particularly fragile and ill-fitting meat suit? sure i guess, since the alternative was not existing at all shout out to my dads poor planning aaaaaaaay

sorcieresque Aaaay! Asking you that must count as a micro-aggression around here.

nickatnightwalker oh fuck if i know everything is a micro-aggression around here asking somebody their favorite food is a micro-aggression around here "hey whats your favorite color" "do you not know how PERSONAL colors are to me once a color murdered my entire family and now im forced to brood silently yet threateningly whenever i see it"

sorcieresque Does he like *not* being human? Respond in 2000-5000 words MLA format on your desk by tomorrow.

nickatnightwalker as a matter of fact thats exactly what i just told him

sorcieresque Twinsies.

nickatnightwalker i bet we could start telling people that tomorrow and theyd swallow it hook line and sinker

sorcieresque On that note, has Damian grown out of his sisterwife kink yet?

nickatnightwalker while i dont know what his personal feelings are on it knocking that joke out of the repertoire was part of the motherfucking bargain in exchange for letting him talk to me after hurricane daniel

sorcieresque You've always been good at haggling.

nickatnightwalker thank you you know i really, really debated putting an allowance in there for a while?

sorcieresque Ha! Perhaps not quite so good, then.

nickatnightwalker that was a trade off for my own self respect daisy

sorcieresque I suppose some of you /humans/ have that.

nickatnightwalker oh god dont even go there or i'll vanish your hair too

sorcieresque Someone's touchy.

nickatnightwalker shes just about as annoying as an asscrack full of sand

sorcieresque An asscrack full of sand and sticky hands from a rapidly melting Popsicle?

nickatnightwalker with sand glued onto your arms and legs with too-thick sunscreen scratching gently but persistently at your sunburn

sorcieresque And your sunglasses are smudged.

nickatnightwalker and your towel is too sandy to clean them on

sorcieresque And there's Sandflies.

nickatnightwalker when you shower youre gonna find dried seaweed down your bathing suit thats been there for hours

sorcieresque Like lovingly cradling Satan against your crotch. Anyway.

nickatnightwalker anyway shes real fuckin annoying

sorcieresque She's not so bad. I would have stopped around the sunglasses.

nickatnightwalker you havent seen her raging superiority complex up close and personal

sorcieresque I've seen her raging Mine Song complex.

nickatnightwalker that is one can of lesbian worms i am not gonna go anywhere the fuck near

nickatnightwalker im gonna just stay over here in my lane and not get in anywhere near anything the amazon warriors have claimed, up to and including the entire proteus dorm

sorcieresque What about /my/ problems, Nick.

nickatnightwalker cleas gotta come out, im not goin in

nickatnightwalker i dunno if you wanna take on the sapphic equivalent of the mongol horde  that's your bad choice not mine

sorcieresque Well mark my death as "mysterious" on my Wikipedia page and call me sexy Genghis Khan, I'm ready.

nickatnightwalker is there anything really worth conquering over there anyway

sorcieresque Yes.

nickatnightwalker name names bitch!

sorcieresque What is this, a middle school sleepover?

nickatnightwalker yep

nickatnightwalker ive got the popcorn in the microwave now spill

sorcieresque You're subscribed to the Daily Daisy, I was under the impression that you would have an idea. Unless it's tagged Nick don't look, in which case you do not, because we respect each other's privacy.

nickatnightwalker of course i dont but i have YET to see a name drop

sorcieresque Are you asking me if there is a lucky military strategist I would particularly like to conquer?

nickatnightwalker yes imagine some clapping emojisfor me

sorcieresque You're very insistent.

nickatnightwalker well yeah

nickatnightwalker course i wanna hear whats up

sorcieresque Oh.

sorcieresque Well, no single tactician has caught my eye just yet, but I find some of the army members, how do you say, cute. Ines among them.

sorcieresque You love to joke about it, but I don't actually find Tyler's game plans all that exciting. Val's too annoying and Gabriela too dumb to strive beyond eye candy. I've caught glimpses of Clea, you know.

nickatnightwalker thats vague and intriguing keep going

sorcieresque That's all there is to say.

sorcieresque Sometimes they are there, and then they are back to being a walking kaleidoscope on steroids. I think they're cute.

nickatnightwalker they sent me a picture of them before yknow, before why can you see them?

sorcieresque I don't know. And oh. How very juicy of them.

nickatnightwalker dyou want it

sorcieresque Absolutely I do.

nickatnightwalker [it's an incredibly middle-school mirror selfie]

sorcieresque I see. Thank you for your candor.

nickatnightwalker youre welcome you and clea all straightened out? after what they said and everything i know they apologized but still

sorcieresque I made them clamber up the vine and hang from my window. It was very romantic.

nickatnightwalker oh thats so smooth im impressed of you i mean since you told them what to do

sorcieresque And isn't that a most excellent quality in a person.

nickatnightwalker obedience? generally speaking a better quality in a housepet than a person but cleas got other perks

sorcieresque Yes? And what would those be.

nickatnightwalker a fourth dimension australian accent

sorcieresque The compulsive chivalry grew on me.

nickatnightwalker it really is compulsive i swear they keep trying to stop

sorcieresque Interesting.

sorcieresque I could've sworn that was supposed to be their shtick.

nickatnightwalker i thought their shtick was quirky 90s friend

sorcieresque They contain multitudes. That's why they look like that.

nickatnightwalker well shit youre not wrong there i feel threatened by their only-sane-man and rational-human motifs though that's really kinda my thing

sorcieresque Your shtick is far more interesting than being a "rational" person.

nickatnightwalker thank you i do try to work that in though at least sometimes

sorcieresque Do you think it brings an eclectic factor to the jittery je ne sais quoi of your attractiveness?

nickatnightwalker absolutely i do i think it emphasizes that my jitteriness is not unfounded

sorcieresque Wow, you're even internally consistent.

nickatnightwalker oh yeah definitely what you see is what you get with me

sorcieresque Whatever happened to the mystery!

nickatnightwalker new school new me

sorcieresque Your transparency of character disgusts me.

nickatnightwalker oh man daise it disgusts me too

[apsbicepstraining]

TLC:’ I will never forget the day we were millionaires for five minutes’

On the comeback trail, the 90 s megastars reflect on bankruptcy, diverting down Britney and what Lisa Left Eye Lopes would be like on Twitter

TLC are in the back of an Uber XL in the middle of Londons Oxford Circus, sunshine streaming through the windows, with a hottie standing in full view at the crossing. Jesus! Did you look at this guy? Lord have mercy. Why didnt you get his ass on camera? He is byoo-tee-full . Traffic and exchange is gridlocked; Chilli craves her bandmate T-Boz, their cameraman, makeup artist, press officer, the operator and me to acknowledge the drop-dead sumptuous specimen, beefy in muscle and hyper-groomed of look, outside the window.

Look, hey, I desire somewhat guys, but come near now, you are able to grant it up. Tell the truth.

I shrug, ambivalent, and “re just telling me” hes not my category. T-Boz, who has spent the last few minutes scratching her knuckles reminiscing about the fights she used to get into, constricts her attentions. What ?! she says. What is your character? Why dont you tell us what your category is? Even if hes not your kind, you have to say hes cute. Hes not my category, either, but I can see hes good examining. The whole parcel was working for him: the “hairs-breadth”, the muscles What is your category?

The brightness change and the two laughter, a conspiratorial chuckle that follows often of their converse over the next 24 hours. TLC making a respectable comeback in 2017 is, its fair to say, sudden. Despite insisting that theyve been working solidly behind the scenes the whole time touring internationally, writing movie dialogues, setting up a fitness blog the group vanished from public consciousness sometime in the early 00 s.

Watch the video for Way Back.

Collectively though, the three twentysomething dames from Atlanta, Georgia Tionne T-Boz Watkins, Rozonda Chilli Thomas and Lisa Left Eye Lopes owned the 90 s: their brand of sultry R& B, silky enough to woo the masses but glitchy enough to keep them interesting, has constructed them the most successful US girl group of all time. Their two biggest books, CrazySexyCool( 1994) and Fanmail( 1999 ), sold more than 20 m mimics between them, with other singles and albums helping to rack up a total sales pull of around 65 m worldwide.

Thats a behemothic rank of success that was felled first by the bands bankruptcy in 1995, then by the tragic deaths among Lopes, at 30, in 2002.

I slept a lot, says Thomas of that time. When youre depressed and you sleep a lot I did that and stayed in my area. I didnt watch Tv and I certainly didnt listen to radio or used to go because everywhere wed disappear, someone would have something to say.

And theyd be smiling, more, microchips in Watkins, and then be like, Oh, Im so sorry, and then immediately, Can I have your autograph?

The two seemed hounded by the press, the public and their description. People are ghouls, says Watkins. I went words at my home 2 day after Lisa croaked, like, What are you going to do? and, Heres my demo, take a listen. But Lopes, who perished in road accidents on holiday in Honduras that April, was irreplaceable. TLC was ever a vehicle for a producer or a managers brand-new sound opening a revolving door for a new third member like, say, Destinys Child or the Sugababes was not an option.

They are much clearer than anybody else on what is and isnt TLC, their description boss, LA Reid, told Rolling Stone in 1995. They make it clearly articulated to the writers and creators on their projects what they will and will not sing. And because of that, theyll ever be a little onward. The radical turned away major songs, including Hit Me Baby One More Time( Its a great hymn but not every hit is for you. I couldnt hear us on that enter, says Thomas, diplomatically ).

We already did baby babe newborn, says Watkins, caressing her teeth.

Sister ordinance … ( left to right) Tionne T-Boz Watkins, Lisa Left-Eye Lopes and Rozonda Chilli Thomas in the Netherlands in 1992. Photo: Michel Linssen/ Redferns

TLCs distinct din stands written about and referenced by music blogs. And it still influences modern dad( accompany 2017 s biggest-selling single in the UK, Ed Sheerans Shape of You ). The radical characterized themselves by their three distinct identities: crazy, sex, refrigerate. Seven months after Lopes died, their fourth and least successful book, 3D, was secreted. We were upset, that was the label, says Watkins, of the book coming out. I guess their mourning stagecoach for us was a week, we werent recalling straight-from-the-shoulder or in a right frame of mind to be making decisions.

That first couple of years you think you were all right or at least better, and then you have a dreaming or something and youre messed up all over again, lends Thomas. It just really took is high time to heal.

Fifteen times on and in their late 40 s, the pair didnt think that they would be playing their first ever London gig. Mays lonely time at Koko in Camden Town sold out in a daytime, to an horde of followers singing and sweating on its sticky floorboards. We havent had bad concerts where weve been booed, but that was hard to believe, says Watkins, when we gratifies the next night in a salmon pink hotel suite. To come here and have beings singing TLC. It manufactures the adrenaline flow. Were always nervous before we go on stage, says Thomas, but I was exceptionally apprehensive this time. It didnt settle till I started doing it.

That the evidence was a triumph only follows TLCs made-for-TV-movie trajectory. Backing dancers in amber lame outfits, a truth choir, and thumped after reached opening with Diggin On Youand purposing with No Scrubs heightened it beyond the hurry of pop nostalgia. That said, new single Way Back, which boasts a Snoop Dogg verse where Lopes might have been, is pure 90 s street feeling throwback, but the pair affirm that theyre not attaches great importance to continuing trend, because, says Watkins, our music will always be relevant.

Hit girlfriends … TLC in Hollywood, 1999. Photo: Ron Davis/ Getty Images

What do you signify by throwback? questions Thomas.

Its inarguable that the two have worked hard to retain the essence of what reached them so massive in the first place: from the live creation down to Thomass still terrifyingly well-maintained washboard belly, they appear and sound as if theyve escaped a season capsule.

Some beings may say, Oh. you have the same haircut, says Watkins her angled blond bob gash as aggressively as she is. But first of all, second of all, and third of all: when you get the various kinds of iconic haircut that beings emulate, “youre calling” me. Its signature. Its true-blue: alongside The Rachel, Watkinss was the more popular haircut for gobby schoolgirls in the 90s. A slew of faux-bickering and tutting between the two follows as they debate the flaws of contemporary creators who, according to TLC, have no appreciation of performance, showmanship or style.

Celebrity changed, but what stays out to me is the altered in media, says Thomas. If Twitter was around when we were were out, Lisa would have “the worlds largest” adherents for sure. And maybe been in the most disturb, more? Oh my God, she would have been closed down multiple times.

Same with Instagram, says Watkins. If Instagram was taken away tomorrow there would be a lot of parties jobless right now cos theres a lot of public figure now made up of Instagram frameworks. She is unimpressed by influencers monetising their lifestyles online, but tries to hold back. Im not gonna knock your hubbub. Hustle on, girlfriend. “Its time” that hos are triumphing. An affirmative block-caps YEAH! comes from Thomas. But if you gonna be a ho, at the least sounds like a good ho and have to pay, Watkins continues. Ho-ism is working for people. Worst situation is to be a ho, spread your trash far and near and get nothing from it.

No scrubbing please, were TLC … Chilli ( left) and T-Boz. Image: Linda Nylind/ The Guide

Watkins wont be drawn on who she might be alluding to, but its still a surprise to hear her or Thomas claim a moral high ground over other women. TLC endorse female sexuality in their hymns and styling, and were early advocates of safe-sex campaigns( Lopes would even wear a condom on the left see of her glass ). Hitherto, says Watkins, she was offered $50,000 to stay a male fan and his wife at home So they could just stare at me amply clothed for five minutes , nothing else and she refused.

Chilli is scandalized. Fifty thousand! To bring kindnes and gaiety into that relationship, whats wrong with that ?! My husband at that time didnt crave me travelling, declares Watkins. He didnt have to know! squeal Thomas.

Both are single right now. Thomas has a son with TLCs ex-producer Dallas Austin, and Watkins is divorced with a son and teenage daughter. I wouldnt want to meet anyone right now, says Watkins. I do not want a mortal. If God slaps me in the are dealing with a good one, fine, but right now, I dont want to listen to your daytime, I dont want to care about your problems. I wouldnt be a good girlfriend right now; I dont want to have sex with nobody.

Oh, you poverty-stricken girlfriend! You good good girlfriend, says Thomas, cooing at Watkinss vagina.

Shell be all right, says Watkins, side-eyeing Thomas with a cat-like grin.

The pair live in different metropolitans now; Watkins is in Los Angeles, having precisely moved out of the neighbourhood the Kardashians live in, and Thomas has stayed in Atlanta, but they still finish each others sentences and slip into shorthand. You start off with so many friends, shows Watkins, but as you get older, you only need one or two. Im not open to just letting people into my life, I involve an asset not a liability.

Class behave … TLC announce a $25,000 Aids education scholarship in recall of Lisa Lopes at the 2002 MTV Awards. Picture: Kevin Kane/ WireImage

To their ascribe, the two ought to have categorically burned by the industry. To go bankrupt at the top of their honour and success still stings. I will never forget the day we were millionaires for literally five minutes, says Watkins. Because the cheque was written to us and we had to sign it over, back to[ Pebbles, their former administrator ]. But we wont get into that since were still in a lawsuit.

If I could go back, I are certainly change a couple of things business-wise, says Thomas. I have learned the hard way: signal your own cheques, make sure your taxes are in shape and whatever your firm is, its always good to get wise examined. If you dont have anything to hide, its not a worry.

Its not personal, contributes Watkins, hard as nails, its business. Everyone in this industry has only one plan. Auditors, lawyers, beings you think you know will keep running up the greenback. You have to watch your back on every corner.

Worse than the money was, of course, the loss of Lopes , that are actually dissolved that first, fantastical operate. The three had weathered everything together the backstabbing, the bankruptcy, the tabloid awarenes of Lopes igniting down the mansion of her then-football star boyfriend. Lisa was a starter. I dont start substance, I dont believes in disagreeing with people I dont know, says Watkins. I have a hard exterior, Im scary.

She was more intrepid, says Thomas. Im a friendly party but if I find out youre not cool, I get real cold.And, chortles Watkins, with Lisa, it depended on the working day. She was a Gemini, so she was about seven different beings. Neither Watkins or Thomas booze( Weve done this industry sober; were real clear about exactly what we doing ), though Lopes did and the three, tight because they are, were known to scrap often publicly. Gazing back, would they have done anything differently? Coulda, woulda, shoulda, says Watkins, her expression at its most slow and sleepy-eyed. It became us who we are, so at the end of the day, I just recollect Lisa as person or persons, a human being. I miss everything.

TLC by TLC is out on 30 June

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