#more characters mentioned but I don't want to clog the tags

[numberoneanika]

Honestly the roleplay blogs are stronger than I am because if I saw a post where people were saying my blog was annoying and calling me corny I would jump in a large pit and rot away

[space-specs]

DC needs to hire me because I'm brilliant

Pitch for a new JSA: we get the peepaws and the meemaws back together and they just beat the shit out of neo-nazis.

I think there's this overall perception of older people as being conservative and we really just need the rep of an older group standing up and saying "fuck you and everything you stand for."

Especially because the entire living OG JSA having age-fuckery being canon. I want a whole comic run that's just characters like Jay Garrick and Alan Scott and Wesley Dodds going "we fought Hitler and there is no way in hell we're letting that shit stand again."

Anyway, yeah, DC hire me and let me write a "JSA says Nazis can fuck right off" comic.

[twignotstick]

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

Part 1 🧡

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I wrote this as my love letter to the story and the characters. Especially April :)

(And because the au comp has made me go rabid, but that's another problem 🤡)

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Mikey & April, Raph & April, NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, recovery, cooking, mental issues, talking it out because we're adults, sickness, sickfic (kinda)

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): small physical injury, mention of past injury, description of scars

Words: 2,107

Summary: April was able to figure out her first brother easily. Now, she gets three more, with a couple more issues to worry about.

----------------------

In the few weeks since Mikey had come home, April had been having a blast. Don't get her wrong, she loved Raph. He was her brother. Her best friend, even. But sometimes he could be a little… overbearing? Sensitive? Thought she was dying when she got her period?

Mikey was fun. He swore like a sailor, which made Raph go crazy. He loved talking and listening, even when he wasn't really interested in April's rambling. And ever since Splinter had first shown him the kitchen, they all found out that he could cook.

According to him, he had cooked some before, when he was younger. But man, once he had access to the recipes of the internet, Mikey was an incredible chef. Every morning, he'd wake up to make breakfast for everyone. April had even made a habit of showing up to eat breakfast with the mutants.

It had all been going great! Mikey was adjusting perfectly!

And then he got sick.

April figured it was probably because of the sudden change of scenery. His body was still catching up, and coming to the surface for the first time in his life didn't help either. It was at the most a bad cold, but his nose was stuffed and his throat sounded like a clogged sink. He kept getting coughing fits and dizzy spells.

April had come down to visit. She wanted to check on Mikey, and on Raph. He had gone full protective Mama Bear mode as soon as Mikey even got the slightest hint of a sniffle. April knew that if he didn't get a moment to relax and not worry about his sick brother, he'd probably pull something and get sick himself.

When she arrived to a panicked Raph tossing around couch cushions, she knew her damage control would need to be in high gear.

“Raph?” April asked quietly, dropping her backpack off her shoulder and lowering it next to the couch. “Everything alright, big guy?”

“APRIL!” Raph dropped the pillows he had been holding and whipped around to face her. “Have you seen Mikey?! I went into his room to get him up and he wasn't there. Did you see him on your way in?!”

“Uh, no?” April stepped up and placed a hand on Raph's shoulder. “Take a second and breathe, Raph. With me. In and out.”

April guided Raph's breathing until he finally looked like he had his head on straight again. “Good job,” she whispered. “Now, you said he wasn't in his room.”

“No,” Raph said quickly. “I checked there. I looked under his sheets, I know-”

“Okay, I believe you. Did you check the bathroom?”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“...Raph.”

“I WAS FREAKING OUT! I'VE BEEN SCREAMING HIS NAME, HE SHOULD'VE-”

“Okay, okay, it's okay!” April held her hands out placatingly. “I get it. He's your brother, it's okay to be worried about him. Maybe all the gunk in his nose got up in his ears and he couldn't hear you.” She breathed deeply. “Listen, you go check the bathroom and the dojo. Even if you already checked, check again. I'm gonna go to the kitchen and make myself something, because school lunch sucked today and I'm starving.” April grabbed Raph's shaking hand. “We'll find him.”

Raph took a deep breath and released it, holding April's hand loosely. “Right. We'll find him. He's gonna be okay. Raph's gonna be okay, because Mikey's gonna be okay!”

“Yes, yes, that's right Raph.” April's tone shifted on a dime. “Now go. Shoo. Skedaddle. I got food to eat.”

Raph shooed away timidly. April knew that he was just trying to make sure his baby brother was okay, but jeez. Not even checking the bathroom first? If you're going to lose track of someone, at least start looking for them in a reasonable place.

April made it to the kitchen and stopped suddenly at the doorway, almost shouting out for Raph immediately.

Come on, Raph. There isn't even a door here. Mikey was in clear view of anyone passing by the kitchen.

She saw the scarred, scratched shell of Mikey standing at the counter. She hadn't ever seen the shell from this angle; looking at it straight on. She'd seen it from the side, but looking at it now, it looked 10 times as painful. The gouges were deep.

What kind of monster could have done that to a kid this young?

Why was that kid out of bed right now he's sick why is he-

Mikey turned away from the counter with a plate in his hand. His blurry eyes caught sight of April at the door. He sniffled quietly then rasped, “Hey April. You're here early… You hungry? I'm gonna make some-” he was interrupted by a cough- “s-some… something. I’unno yet.”

“Mikey?” April walked into the kitchen to investigate what he'd been doing. There was a small mixing bowl to the side of the sink and a cup of water. Not even a measuring cup, but one of the old plastic cups they kept in the lower cabinets with a worn cartoon graphic on the side, barely even there after years of washing. “Buddy, you don't need to do that. You're sick. What do you mean ‘early’? It's, like, 4:30.”

Mikey blinked slowly. “Y…yeah. 4:30.”

“P.M., Mike.”

“...oh.”

“Do you usually get up that early? That's not healthy, Mikey.” April started walking around the kitchen island and grabbed one of the stools to pull it out. “You should sit down.”

“Wh- wha? I don't… I don' need to sit down. I gotta make breakfast.” Mikey still clutched the plate in his hands, a shaky smile on his face.

“Mikey, it's almost 5 in the afternoon. You don't need to make breakfast. Sit down, I'm gonna make some food for myself anyway.”

Mikey looked like he was getting more confused by the second. His eyes were watering, but April couldn't tell if that was due to the sickness or him genuinely being upset. “B-but I need to make breakfast.” He turned back to his hodge-podge cooking setup, plate still in his right hand. “W-wait, I can figure out something to make.” He sniffled loudly, catching in his throat and causing him to cough. “I got it, y-you just go see R-Raph!”

“No, Mikey. You need to sit down. Please, I-”

April was cut off by the sound of Mikey sneezing loudly. The force of the sneeze caused Mikey's arm to flail, shattering the plate in his hand on the edge of the sink. His dazed eyes stared at the pieces as they scattered both in the sink and across the tile. April held her hand over her mouth.

Mikey started mumbling curses and apologies under his breath as he kneeled to the floor, picking up the porcelain shards with his bare hands.

“MIKEY!” April rushed over the wreckage, grabbing Mikey by the shoulders and lifting him up. His hands were slightly cut up already by the sharp edges he had grabbed, and his knees had hit some too. “What are you doing?! You are going to sit down now.”

“B-but- But I-”

“Mikey.”

“B-but I broke the-”

“Sit.”

Mikey's tears were almost spilling over, but with April's help, he was able to sit at the kitchen island. His hands and knees were bleeding slightly, but nothing bad. Nothing near as bad as he'd seen, April guessed.

“I'm going to grab the first aid kit. Raph should be here any minute, if he isn't already eavesdropping. While I'm cooking, you can talk to me. Tell me how to make the ramen good like you make it. I'll make it spicy to open up your nose, just how you like. That's what I need you to do today, okay Mikey?”

Mikey looked like he wanted to fidget with his hands, but he knew that wouldn't be good. Wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand, he whispered, “Okay, April.”

April walked to the door, only to find Raph hurriedly coming from the bathroom with the first aid kit already in hand. “Really, Raph?”

“I heard the plate break, what was I supposed to do?” Raph whined with a guilty look on his face.

“Not act like your brother broke, maybe.”

Raph sighed and kept moving past April, sitting down next to Mikey without saying a word. He held out a hand which Mikey met, letting Raph analyze the damage. “We've all broken plates before, it's alright Mike.”

Mikey just hummed, shaking up the phlegm in his throat and getting him coughing again. Raph's eyes widened wildly, but April stared him down the moment he tried moving toward Mikey. Despite the snapper's intimidating stature, he shrank under April's glare.

April smirked and grabbed a ramen pack from the pantry. “So, Angelo,” she said, grabbing a pot from the overhead rack and turning to the turtles, “where do we start?”

Taking a second to compose himself, Mikey started instructing. “If you're making it for both of us, use two packs. A-and don't use that stupid sauce pack stuff they include with it, use actual sauce. I put it up in the…”

----------------------

When it was done, it was by far the best ramen April had ever made. Not the best she had ever eaten, (that prize belonged to Mikey), but it was still really good. Mikey seemed to like it too, and his gloomy demeanor was finally lessening.

Raph left the room shortly after the two started eating. Partly because he wanted to check on his dad, partly because he wanted to rest after over exerting himself in his search for Mikey, and partly because of the look April was giving him. She wanted to have a chat with Mikey, and that was apparent. 

Now, the two sat silently, eating their noodles. April sat just around the corner of the island. She didn't want to sit opposite him, but didn't feel like sitting right next to him. This just felt right.

“You know we want you here, right?” April asked softly.

“What?” Mikey's throat had cleared up just a bit, as well as his sinuses, allowing him to speak more clearly.

“We want you here. You know that, right?”

“W… w-well, yeah! I mean, Raph and Dad literally agreed to fight in the Battle Nexus to get me out! A-and you keep showing me such cool stuff, and bringing me nice things, and-”

“And we're always going to want you here,” April pressed firmly. “You don't need to worry about making us want you here.

“...what?”

“You don't need to worry about making us food, or cleaning up a mess you can't clean up on your own. Especially when you're sick. We should be taking care of you right now.”

Mikey fiddled with his chopsticks, looking back and forth from April to his noodles.

“And it doesn't matter what you do. We'll always want you here. You're family. Doesn't matter if you can't make breakfast, or if you break a plate-”

“Or if I eat the last slice of pizza?” Mikey asked timidly, simultaneously admitting to a most heinous crime.

“Even if you eat the last slice of pizza.” April smirked and pointed at Mikey. “But that's thin ice, bud.”

Mikey laughed for the first time April had heard all day. Sure, it was only a little giggle, and it kicked up another small coughing fit, but it didn't matter. The fun brother she had begun caring so deeply about was finally sitting in front of her again.

“Bad habits are tough to crack,” April sighed. “I'm gonna help you realize that, and it might take a while. Just please, don't forget we love you.”

Mikey nodded.

“You know,” April said, leaning back on her stool and swinging her legs up to sit criss-cross, “I really do love you like a brother already. And I really, really want you to stay. Sooo, imagine how Raph and Splints must feel. Outta this world love, right?”

Mikey's smile softened. “Guess you're right.”

“Course I am!” April stood up with her empty ramen bowl. “I'm gonna put this in the sink for me to wash later, and you're gonna put yours there too when you're done. How's watching some mindless cartoons sound for the rest of the afternoon? I bet I can get Splints to give up the TV.”

Mikey held his chopsticks close and gave the sweetest, most doe-eyed expression. “Do you think I could get one of Raph's plushies, too?”

April huffed a laugh. “Boy, if you asked him with that face, I think he'd give you his whole collection.”

Mikey's face morphed into a mischievous grin. “I'll take that challenge.”

○●○●○●○

The spirits of the tmnt au comp possessed me. I've already written a second part for this. You'll never guess who it's about 🔵🐢

Again, this is my love letter to EW! I am in no way involved with EW, I just wanted to write about how April could get along with her new brothers. Can't wait for the first round of voting in the comp!

Part 2 -> 💙

[wingwaver]

A few tips for new Tumblr users wanting to write here

Yo if you're here from Reddit or Twitter or some other site and just wanted to give this a shot you may have seen some blogs that are dedicated to writing headcanons or short fics or even original works for their own OCs and you may be thinking "hey I wanna give that a shot! I like to write!" then I have some tips to make it easier on you and people who see your content.

1. First off, if you're writing a pretty long piece the you should probably put it under a read more, it'll look like this on mobile

and this on desktop

or you can write :readmore: on a line by itself and press enter.

2. Now if you're gonna write for a whole bunch of different fandoms and you wanna make a master list then I suggest making an actual list with the fandoms you write for and then making more lists with the actual content as a you go along because you can only have 100 links in one post (I know that sounds like a lot but as someone who has around 300 Transformers things written trust me you fill up a post quicker than you expect, especially if you take requests from other people). The way I typically do it is like this

The first pic is the MASTER master list that lists everything I write for and when they're underlined like that it means they're links. The second pic is after clicking the G1 link, it's a separate post that has the actual fics and headcanon links. Note the 6/100 in the tags, this is how I keep up with how many things I've added. You can of course just use the numbers options from here

or just number them manually from your keyboard like I'm doing with this post. Adding links has no barring on what else you add to the post so you can add yourself some fancy header or divider pics if you want.

3. Adding links! Links can look like this https://www.tumblr.com/wingwaver/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons?source=share or like this https://wingwaver.tumblr.com/post/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons depending on whether you're linking from mobile or desktop/browser Just highlight the text you wanna add a link to and a the little chain will move to the end, click it and paste your url you want to link to and press add link, then press post/save draft/save (whatever the blue button says)

Now you've successfully linked a post to another post!

4. Tagging! To get your fics and headcanons seen to build an audience you usually wanna tag the stuff correctly. If you're posting a fic about Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney then you'll tag it with #Ace Attorney, #Miles Edgeworth, and #Phoenix Wright in the tags area. But it's also a good idea to mention if it's a ship or general fic in the tags too. If so then putting ship names and #Miles Edgeworth x Phoenix Wright and #Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright in the tags will help everyone know this is a ship fic. Tagging with characters or fandoms that aren't apart of the fic just clogs the tags for people looking for content of said characters and fandoms so it's very looked down on here and will likely get some of your stuff reported for spam so only use the relevant tags. Also tagging for triggers can be tricky here because of how fucky tumblr is but please don't tag censor tags. Tagging things like #a**** or #a*use or even #abu$e doesn't work here because people who have #abuse blacklisted will be able to see this content because it wasn't tagged properly. Also if you're writing for OCs or reader inserts it's common courtesy to tag those appropriately too. Someone looking for a reader insert may not want to read an OC and vice versa. Also many people filter those out so try to add tags like #x reader, #*fandom name* x reader, and #*character name* x reader for easier filtering. Also people cruise those tags too so it'll help people who fo want to read that content find your stuff!

[askchilchuck]

Hey, how can I help you?

(Please read below before interacting)

Hi! My name is Sophie! This blog has gotten enough traction that I feel the need to lay some ground rules for it.

1) This blog is intended to be PG13 so I don’t have to exclude younger fans from participating. I will not be answering anything that wouldn’t fly in canon, or is adjacent to it. Anything explicitly sexual, or can be construed that way will not be answered. This decision was made a couple months in, so do be advised there is some more suggestive content on the earlier posts on this blog. If you don't want to see that kind of content, stick to the newer posts.

2) Nothing related to suicide please. I tried playing it off the first time but between myself and some people around me, even the “KYS 🥰🥰🥰” jokes really aren’t funny, especially recently. Asks including it will not be answered.

3) No firearms. Related to rule 2.

4) Please no spammy asks. I’m honestly not sure how to answer them, and they clog up both the blog itself and the main tags.

5) No political asks. I understand how terrifying the results of the US election are, but I really need this place to be a break from all that. For my sake and yours. We both need spaces where we can recharge from this. Chilchuck doesn’t know what’s going on anyway, he deserves to live in ignorance from it. I love you.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s fun to bully him, but these things cross a line for me. Thank you for understanding.

If you’re an RP blog, you’re more than welcome to interact! Even if you’re not a Dunmeshi blog! I don’t always have the time to do reblog chains, though, so please don’t feel bad if I miss you there. It’s easiest for me if you submit RP as an ask when the box is open. Sorry for any inconvenience this may cause. If you’re 18+ and interested, I also do private RP on my Discord, linked on my Dunmeshi side blog.

IN LIGHT OF DUPLICATE CHARACTERS:

I think that’s awesome and also really funny. I encourage it. We’ve already got a loose MCU/multiverse plot line going on so we can totally make it work, too. Hell yeah. Hilarious. Love that. /gen

Blog lore:

This blog takes place loosely post canon. I try to avoid spoilers, but little things here and there are inevitable. Chilchuck has made up with his wife and they’re currently working on their relationship. Chilchuck is also in therapy. This is for a few reasons.

1) I don’t think he’d actually answer any of these if he wasn’t.

2) He doesn’t talk about it a lot, but it was one of his wife’s conditions before giving the relationship another go.

3) He just. Should be in general and I have control of it so it’s happening lol

My Chil is bi, but in the middle-aged “everyone’s had gay thoughts before” kinda way, cause I think it’s funnier that way. He also gets high from time-to-time now that he’s not dungeneering anymore.

Folks kept turning him into different things/animals, so goldstar/⭐️ anon gave him an amulet to put a stop to that. "Marcus" also altered the spell on the amulet to encompass all transformations, since inanimate objects weren't initially included.

Squeaker also used a device to prevent any crab transformations specifically from occurring, as well as ejecting all crabs within a 20 mile radius.

There’s also a cult stalking him for some reason. (This is an ongoing problem. They haven't hurt anyone, and they seem to only be targeting Chilchuck.)

The TVA (Marvel) is loosely involved as well as previously mentioned. Squeak fixed it (or so she thought. There's now a DMCU situation going on.)

Also, Chil’s knowledge of the blog/Tumblr varies depending on what would be funnier, but generally he’s aware of the internet. He only uses his phone to answer your asks, though. He has no idea how to do anything else and has no desire to. This means he doesn’t fact check people or knows anything about the greater internet experience. No one knows how he got the phone, or how it’s holding a charge. Don’t worry about it.

ADDENDUM:

Chilchuck has recently started googling slang, and anything else that might be confusing or annoying to him. However, he hates the search feature and trying to find answers on individual websites, and will take the AI generated answers without question.

I myself don’t talk in the main posts, unless it’s tagged #ooc. Otherwise, I’ll always talk in the tags if I’ve got something to say. Or replies. Or DMs. Main post is the only place I’m in character unless specified otherwise.

Emoji anons:

•⭐️/goldstar anon

•🦉/owl anon

•👻/ghost anon

•♡/heart anon

•🐭/mouse anon

•🍬/candy anon

•🥣/bowl (cereal?) anon

•🐻🏀/bear basket ball anon

•🃏/joker anon

•🟣/Gojo Satoru

•🪻

•🐦‍⬛

No other heart variants have been claimed. Also, heads up to all emoji anons, I’m going to start using just one tag for your asks going forward to make tagging easier! So I’ll just be using the emoji variant from here 💖

If you want to hang out with me in a less censored environment, I also run @chilfucked and @askchilchucknsfw which are 18+ only. I will ban all minors who so much as breathe on those blogs. I’m not joking.

I also reserve the right to update these rules as time goes on, so please check them again before submitting when the ask box is open again. Thank you!

[bamboozledbird]

HOWLING: TST Rewrite // Prev. / Chapter 4

Characters: Thomas, fem!reader, Newt, Aris (bg), Winston (bg) Pairing(s): Thomas x Reader (the slowest of burns as is my brand) Word Count: 3.5k Tags: Mix of book and movie canon, newt!sister!reader Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, character death, mentions of sui attempt (please take care of yourself and don't read anything that will harm you)

A/N: mix of book canon strikes again. in the book, the flare is airborne, and that is so much scarier to me than a zombie chomp. also this is v sad, but i tried to make it end hopeful for y'all :'( :')

Taglist: @m30wk1ttycat, @mxltifxnd0m

The only sign of life in an endless stretch of sand is the haggard breath rattling through Winston’s cracked lips. He coughs, and your throat almost stings with the sound of his serrated wheezes. The dried blood on Winston's mouth sloughs off in flakes with the new stream trickling from his esophagus, and your stomach roils. This is a man about to die. This is a boy who won't grow up. 

“I’m not going to make it," Winston rasps. His voice is wet with his own blood, "I don’t want it to be like this. It’s better…if it’s quick.”

No one speaks. No one moves. It’s mere seconds, no more than ten, but it feels like eternity. 

Newt wakes from the horror first. He takes the gun from Frypan’s trembling hands and moves towards Winston slowly. 

Thomas steps forward to stop him, “Newt, wait—” 

Newt pushes forward and falls to his knees, gently pressing the gun into Winston’s hand. He whispers a goodbye that’s sticky with the wetness glossed over his eyes. Clogged with a lifetime of conversations that will never happen. 

You’re far enough away from Winston that you can’t see him over the rolling dunes when it happens—but you all hear it. The gunshot tears through the desert, and the echo cleaves you right in two. Severs you through the spine and all the tender nerve endings attached.

Newt’s eyes are always wide, but right now they’re swallowing the desert whole. You pitch into them, and a sharp pain rips through your spinal cord to your optic nerve. 

For a moment, you can’t see anything but the searing white light of pain. What comes after is worse. 

You can’t tell if it’s a memory. It feels like the feverish flashes you thrashed around in the Maze, but everything’s been so muddled since Newt showed up. You can’t tell what’s real anymore. Maybe, you never could. 

This echo is more unsettling than the others. You’re watching a screen on a screen, a memory of a memory. The girl in the center of the snow globe stares at a grainy monitor from her hiding spot in the shadows. 

You almost don’t recognize yourself. 

She looks so much younger than you feel now, maybe twelve. Her face is still soft and round with lingering baby fat, hair tied back with a pretty white ribbon and face clean of dirt and the scar above your brow. 

Who is she? This girl with the perfect hair and innocent eyes. You can’t remember. 

The only world you truly know begins with fourteen. You always thought the before must’ve been better, something to run towards. Now, you aren't so sure. 

She’s so afraid. You want to coax her out from the dark, but somehow you know that she’s safer there, curled up behind a desk, away from the light.

Your little pinched face is awash with a blue glow. You stare at the wall of monitors, clutching a battered book to your chest. Most of the screens are blurry, but it doesn’t matter. You’re only worried about one. 

Look away, you try to tell her, look away before it’s too late.

She can’t hear you, of course. She tears her teeth into her fingernails and stares ahead, barely blinking. Barely breathing. A slip of a girl on the precipice of fading.

Newt looks younger too, even through the fuzzy computer screen. If your math is right, he must be around fourteen. However old he is, he’s far, far too young for large shadows in his eyes. He’s on top of a ledge—the Maze, you realize, horrified, he’s standing on top of the Maze.

You realize what he’s going to do a second before he jumps.

Your scream gives you away. You didn’t realize until now that you could sound like that—that anyone could make such a horrible sound. Like a fox in the night, a lamb before slaughter, a soul that can’t pass on. 

A WCKD employee in a pristinely white lab coat drags you away from the room. It should be soaked in blood, you think. They should be stained with what they’ve done, smeared with their sins for eternity. 

You flail in the man’s arms, kick at his legs, try to plant your feet against the slick floor and go boneless. It doesn’t slow him down in the slightest. You’re so small, after all, and he’s so big. A monster you can’t run from.

Your eyes dart around the room, searching for someone, anyone, to help you. They land on Thomas. He looks as horrified as you do, but he’s more composed. Less hysterical, more stunned. He doesn’t move; maybe, he can’t. 

You hate him anyway. 

The scene fades into mist before you can start screaming at him. 

You don’t remember the walk, but somehow you’ve ended up along the ridge of a slender dune. You’re a step away from falling on either side of your dusty boots.

You stumble over your confusion, and your face scrunches, bracing for the inevitable tumble. At least, the sand will provide some cushioning, you think—but you don’t end up rolling down the dune. Newt grabs your hand and pulls you into his side. He holds you out at arms length and rapidly scans over your frame for any sign of injury. 

“Are you alright?” Newt whispers. His question almost gets lost in the sand, but you hear him. Your senses are entirely attuned to him and the proof that he’s still here. 

You blink away a curtain of tears and stare at Newt, watching his chest rise and fall with his steady breathing. “Am I alright?” You shake your head and let out a shallow, shaky puff of air, “Your friend just—” Your jaw snaps shut with a click. 

You have so much you want to say, so many thoughts stripping the healthy tissue from your brain like a plague of locusts. You don't know what to do with them, how to appease them before they rip you apart one bite at a time. 

You tip forward, bracing your palms on your thighs and breathe through the roiling in your gut. You think you might puke; there’s so much inside you, too much. Some of it has to get out or you might just splinter into the lingering shards of the little girl you used to be.

“I’m okay,” you finally say and scrub at your face with viscous fingers. You swallow the grit of sand on your tongue and shake your head, “Don’t worry about me.”

Newt frowns, but you continue before he can speak. “C’mon,” you mumble, clutching your injured hand to your chest, “we’re falling behind.”

You’re almost grateful for the deadly heat and Thomas’s brutal pace. It exhausts you so thoroughly you almost forget about everything other than the blisters forming on your heels and the sweat dripping into your eyes.

And then you stop.

Night falls, someone starts a fire, and everyone falls to the sand with the weight of their dehydration. With their grief. You stop, and now your brain cannot. 

You clamor to your feet and mumble something about going for a walk to Aris’s slumped figure. 

The Scorch is almost beautiful at night. If you pretend you can’t hear the wind crying in the dark, forget about the decaying remains of a society lost to the Flare and the sand, the moon, glowing overhead in the black sapphire sky, is almost charming. 

You watch it glisten and wrap your arms around your torso, clinging to your ribcage and fraying sanity. The veins in your feet pulse, the ache shoots to your knees, but you need to move. You have to do something to temper the crawling under your skin. 

Thomas’s faint voice upsets the quiet. “You forgot your jacket.” He looks a little shy, holding out the jacket he gave you after the crank stole yours. You wonder how such a sweet face could be responsible for so much pain. 

“Don’t—” you choke for a moment as the nausea returns and hold up your hand, “I can’t—I can’t fucking look at you.”

Thomas’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?” He takes a step towards you, and his hands twitch by his sides. “What—” he’s paralyzed by the look on your face briefly, stops just out of arm’s reach, and his face looks sick with concern. It makes you sick.

Thomas gnaws on his lip. The sinew in his forearms flexes as he reaches for you. He rests his calloused hand on your shoulder and says,  “Are you okay?”

You wrench your shoulder from his light hold. “Don’t touch me, Thomas.” You don’t think you’ve ever sounded so venomous, so viscous, but you can’t be sure. You don’t remember much—just that Thomas let Newt die. 

“What did I do?” Thomas looks so despondent. You almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

You whip towards Thomas and shove him, slamming your palms against his chest, “You killed him.” Thomas stumbles backwards—not from your little arms and ineffectual pushes, but from the look on your face. The tremor in your voice. “Newt. He…you might as well’ve pushed him off the edge.”

Thomas’s face crumples as he wraps his long fingers around your wrists. You thrash in his grip until he lets go and scream, “You sent him into your maze, and you killed him. One day at a time.” 

It sounds like a gunshot, and by the look on Thomas’s face, you think it must feel like one too.

His skin is pale in the moonlight and so is the look in his eyes. You watch the tendons in his neck strain with his swallow. “You wanted to be put in with him.” 

You can barely hear him; his whisper is so weak against the pull of the breeze, but you do. You both seem to remember at the same time how you insisted that you go next. You had to find Newt and make sure he never slipped away from you again. When you woke up in the wrong Maze, you weren’t even given the dignity of remembering that you should be enraged by it. 

“Couldn’t even do that right,” you sneer through your sniffles, wiping at your eyes with a cruel scrub of your arm.

Thomas is crying. He doesn’t seem to realize it, makes no effort to dry his wet face with his hands—just stares at you with big hopeless eyes. They burn into your chest like hot iron. You close your eyes, and they haunt the back of your lids. 

Thomas shakes his head slightly and takes a small step towards you, “I’m—”

You shove him again with weak arms; they're heavy with the whimpers trembling through your shoulders. Thomas just takes it this time, hands limp by his sides. You hit his shoulders and sob nonsensical accusations until a pair of arms wrap around your waist. 

“Come on.” Newt hauls you away from Thomas, practically carrying you as you squirm in his hold. He lets go of you once you’re far enough away to keep your conversation just between the two of you. A secret. Something sacred. 

You sniffle at the ground and fold your arms, curling in on yourself—hiding from Newt and yourself. You aren’t sure how much Newt heard, but you weren’t exactly quiet.  

Newt looks at you, and you aren’t sure what he’s feeling. His face is soft though; it always is when you’re crying, you realize—remember. Sighing, Newt eventually says, “It wasn’t his fault.”

Your gaze darts to the tips of your shoes, unable to meet Newt’s eyes. You kick at the sand and wipe your cheeks clean, “Yes, it was.”

It sounds petulant, even to you, but you can’t help it. It has to be Thomas’s fault. It just has to. He’s just a person, and he’s here—he's the only one you can punish. There's no one else in arm's reach.

Except for me.

You repress the thought with a harsh swallow, and Newt wraps arm around your shoulders. He’s all skin-and-bones, but he’s a solid warmth against the frigid sting of misery. He pulls you into his chest, squeezes you tightly, and you let yourself fall into a bundle of memories. Good ones this time, a montage of hundreds of hugs in growing arms. 

Newt cups the back of your head and whispers, “It would certainly be easier if it was, wouldn’t it.”

You snuffle into Newt’s shoulder like a baby and hiccup, “They’ve taken so much.”

He drops a kiss on top of the crown of your head and then pulls away. Newt gives you a soft smile and cocks his head to the side, “Then we shouldn’t let them take anymore, should we?”

You remember things in your sleep now. Little things. Never enough for context, but just enough to leave you shaking in the morning. Most of them are bad. A few are good. None of them make any of this easier. 

The dream that woke you was hazy at best. You were little, and so was Newt. You can’t tell exactly how young, but you’re in a room you’ve never seen before. The wallpaper is a sweet, soft mint, and a trail of painted baby goslings follow their mother along the baseboards. It’s the first wall you’ve ever seen with color; the first wall that you aren’t afraid of. 

You're tucked under a quilt, and Newt is reading you something. You can't make out the title, but you see that the book is worn and well-loved—and then the cheery warmth of buttercup yellow blankets ripples into somewhere dark and cold.

You’re moving somehow, but you don’t look out the window—you’re only looking at Newt. 

He’s crouched down in front of you, squeezing your hands, and trying to tell you something. He’s trying to smile too, but you see the fear. The panic. The desperation. The effort makes your heart clench.

Newt's distorted voice slowly sharpens into focus, and you catch the end of his sentence. “...there’s always a chance the sun’s gone out. Remember how long it’d take to reach us?”

You mouth, “Eight seconds,” in time with the little girl’s quivering voice. 

Newt smiles and nods, feathery hair falling over his forehead. “So when you count to eight, you know that we have more time. When you’re scared, just count to eight and remember that we have time, alright? I’ll find you, and we’ll be together again. We’ve got all the time in the world.” 

You wondered what it was like when Thomas told you. You wondered what it was like to have a brother. You think perhaps it’s a little bit like knowing you’re going to be okay.  

You push yourself onto your elbows and sweat trickles down your back. You shiver. The night is insufferably cold, but your shirt is stuck to your back and your sleeping bag is damp. Blearily, you notice that there’s another layer draped on top of you.

You clutch at the denim jacket blanketed over your torso, eyes aching, and look around the sleeping Gladers for a head of tousled brown hair. The flames flicker and sparks fly from the embers every so often, casting billowing shadows over your friends’ sleeping faces. Thomas isn’t among them. 

Your vision slowly adjusts to the dark, and eventually you can make out the shape of Thomas. The shadow of his figure is a ways away and staring into the vast nothingness. You look away from his back and down at the jacket bundled in your lap, chewing on your lip—somehow, you end up standing by him. 

Thomas seems to sense it’s you. You’re close enough to see the moles flecked around his skin. The one on the hinge of his jaw jumps when he finally speaks, “I have to make up for what I did.”

You blink at him and tip your head to the side, listening. 

“You asked me how I keep going, keep caring after…everything.” Thomas cards his fingers through his hair, and it sticks up in odd places when he drops his hand to his side. You want to smooth them back into place—and then you immediately hate yourself for the thought. 

Thomas keeps his eyes on the moon and continues quietly, “I have to get us out—I have to save everyone because I have to make up for everything I did.” 

Your teeth catch on your bottom lip, unsure what to say. You look at him for a moment and then rock onto your tiptoes so that you can drape the jacket over his broad shoulders. It actually fits him, you realize with a small smile. 

Thomas finally looks at you as the faded denim settles over his biceps. His lips part in surprise, and then the corners twitch into a little smile. 

“I’m sorry I keep using my hands instead of my words,” you say quietly. 

Thomas huffs out a breath. It’s almost like a laugh, but the bitterness dampens the sound into something darker. Something that hurts. His jaw is tense as he says, “I’m sorry that I keep doing terrible things.” 

You feel a residual ache, a distant throb of anger. It fades when you look at Thomas. He looks small, all curled in on himself and lost to before. The sky goes dark in his eyes, and you move closer, searching for the stars in a pool of obsidian.

“In the past,” you say softly. Your fingers tremble as you reach for his jacket. The scratched buttons are cold against your skin. You repress a shiver and clutch at the material, pulling the sides tighter against his torso. “A past you can’t even remember,” you add quietly, gesturing for Thomas to slide his arms through the sleeves.

Thomas looks at your hands with big eyes and slips into the jacket. He smiles faintly and bites his lip, watching you button the front closed with clumsy fingers. They’re stiff from the cold and maybe a little fear—touch isn’t a constant in your life, after all. It’s infrequent and usually painful. Tender things don’t survive in your world. Blossoms shrivel. Little birds are eaten. Sweet children harden, or they die slowly. 

But you button the jacket all the way to the top and then slide your hands over his chest, smoothing out the creases in the denim. Gentle. Tender. 

Thomas’s fingers twitch, like he wants to reach for you, but he keeps them by his sides. He stares at you instead. “Well, I almost wish I remembered it all,” his voice is thick around the consonants, shaky through the vowels, “so that I can say I’m sorry for all of it.”

Your cheek rounds with your half-moon smile as you shrug, “How ‘bout I only hate you for all the stupid things you do after tonight.”

Thomas pauses, conflicted, and then he smiles. The crooked line of his mouth is devastatingly endearing. “You sound confident.”

“Oh, I’m very confident.” You nod a few times and hum, “It’s an eventuality, not a hypothetical.”

Thomas bites back a smirk and slides his hands into his pockets, “Noted.” 

You grin at his profile. The humor bleeds from your face, spilling something more earnest. “But I do forgive you,” you tip your chin so that you can meet Thomas’s eyeline, “I do forgive you for the things you don’t remember. The things none of us remember.”

“I,” Thomas sucks on his teeth and shakes his head—as if there’s a lingering taste of something bitter between his molars, like he’s chewed on bitterroot his whole life. He swallows and shakes his head again. “I don’t know if you should. Not after…” he chokes on the rest of his words and rubs a hand over his mouth, trying to wipe away the half-formed thought, the imprint of the words he can’t bring himself to say.

You go cold as the wind shrieks through your blood. You shudder and wrap your arms around yourself, whispering, “He was only fourteen.” Thomas flinches, and you sigh, chewing on your cheek as you look at him—really look at him. 

Thomas’s brow is dipped in a heavy frown that seems to pull at his entire face; it weighs down his eyes until they droop at the corners. He looks older than he should. You forget just how young Thomas is until your gaze traces along his tangled hair and his fawn eyes. He squeezes them shut, terrified of the feeling cutting through his chest. Through denim, and skin, and bone—straight to his trembling heart.  

You lick your lip and say, “And you were only twelve.”

His eyes peel open slowly, and Thomas looks surprised to see your painfully genuine expression. “So were you,” Thomas says, shrugging with his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah,” you say, but you say it to the sand. 

Warm, calloused fingers cup your chin. They gently tip your chin up until Thomas can see your eyes. When he sees how lost they are, he rubs a broad thumb along your jaw. “You’re going to live a long life—you'll get to grow old and have a better life. Newt too. I swear.”

You sniffle. You don’t even realize you’re crying; the tears only fall when they build on your waterline and you blink. “Wrinkly and gray, huh?” you tease with a watery smile. 

Thomas thumbs away the wetness on your cheeks and smiles, small and boyish. “Wrinkly and gray.”

“That sounds nice.” You let out a little sigh, allowing yourself to fall into his impossible promises. Just for a moment. Just while you can feel the heat of his skin. 

“Paradise,” Thomas agrees quietly. “We’ll get there; I promise.”

That’s the thing about bitterroot: blossoms grow from withered roots.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Obligatory, I don't think I'm technically wrong, but I know I could be an asshole, I think I'm justified, I wanna know what other ppl think, etc,

This is mult. fandom related and I'm 25 and have been on Tumblr for approx 10 years so I'm not speaking as someone new to either Tumblr or fandom spaces

AITA for reporting art and fic as spam when it's tagged as something else in a tag I'm searching for?

This applies to many fandoms I'm in not just one so I feel no need to list them since it's not like personal beef or fandom specific drama but basically as I'm sure many people do when I want to see fan art or even the occasional fic for my favorite character I'll go into their character tag via Tumblr search, it's one of the few things I enjoy about this website is it's semi functional tagging and search system. But more often and usually lately I've been finding a lot of stuff in say character A tag that doesn't have character A in it, it's a drawing of character B that's been tagged with the main fandom tag, B, and every other main character. I know its so the art or fic gets more views but it's annoying ESPECIALLY if it's fic because not to generalize but fics tagged like that usually dont have a read more either so I have to scroll past this massive block of text that's not only a fic I'm not interested in, but one that's incorrectly tagged for a character I'm trying to find content of so they're the ones I tend to report as spam the most over art which is easier to scroll past ill admit

Even on ao3 it's a feux pas to tag characters that just "appear" if they're not central to the fic so they already shouldn't be tagging any character mentioned in their fic

This USUALLY tends to happen with people's oc posts as well and nothing against OCs they're just not my thing and if I were in the main tag I'd happily scroll by since I recognize their place but just like the other two I'll notice it's just a drawing of someone's oc or their OC's profile and it's tagged with the full main cast, thus showing up in the character I'm looking for's tag

Or character x readers and character A (and C, D, E, F, etc) will be tagged on a B x reader fic, obviously I have no interest in reading a fic like that especially when again the entire cast has been tagged not because they appear in the fic but for engagement

Also I'm not dumb I filter for fandoms so like if the tag I'm in is just "Steve" obviously I know it'll apply to multiple fandoms like Minecraft or avengers since that's a super nonspecific name/tag I'm talking about deliberate tagging within the same fandom

I also don't report the post if they're like "this is my OC his name is James Bond" obviously that's gonna show up in like the James Bond tag which while more specific would not count as spam since that's still a proper tag that would apply, it's the OC's name that just happens to be the name of another character

So, while I don't feel bad because I find these people annoying since they're obviously tagging things like I mentioned on purpose for attention but on the other hand I feel a little guilty because fan art and fan fic is important to any fandom but just, that is one of the definitions of a spam post is something improperly tagged on purpose

TLDR: I report posts in my favorite character's tag as spam when they don't have my favorite character but are tagged with them because they clog up the actual tag with garbage

[askzombo]

the camera shakes before focusing on a blond man, sitting next to a small campfire. he looks a bit confused for a moment, before realizing the person holding the camera had begun filming, "oh hi.. everyone? i don't know who can see these, i'm assuming its not only the diamond swords watching these anymore! i'm evbo, and the guy behind the camera is ferre- he doesnt like being on these much, but he'll also respond to anything you all have to say! anything else you think we should add, ferre?"

"maybe mention the fact everyone is dead?" a voice, supposedly ferre, behind the camera chimes sarcastically.

"oh yeah," evbo huffs, "so, i came down here alone first, expecting a bunch of tridents and axes to beat me up, yknow? but, when i got here, it was dark out, and there were monsters everywhere. more zombies than you could ever imagine, every other civilization has been turned into zombies!" evbo buries his face in his hands, rubbing his eyes harshly in frustration, "i don't- i don't know if tabi-..."

the camera pans to the ground, and ferre speaks again, "ok, i think thats enough. if tabi is out there, we dont want her to know we've survived the zombies too." evbo agrees with a small 'yeah', and the camera focuses on him again, "now pose for the camera," ferre requests, the smallest bit of playfulness in his tone.

"okay..?"

"hey! turn that filter off, that better not have been on the whole time!"

!!ask rules + art ref under cut!!

hi!! admin evan here! ^^7 this is my first askblog so pls be patient with me!

-this blog does have a plot! it has an end goal but how they get there might be affected by asks!

-magic anons are allowed! zombie anons are highly encouraged!! (characters will be aggressive and attempt to kill zombie anons, but can fail and be injured/die!)

-only art posts will be tagged as pvp civ! the rest will be tagged with "ask zombo", but wont be main tagged to avoid clogging the fandom tags!!

-nsfw is allowed, admin and all characters are adults, unless stated otherwise! all posts with nsfw content will be marked with "nsfw" "suggestive" and "cw suggestive" mute those if you dont want to see that content!! (there will be summaries for any lore that is missed in those asks, so dont worry abt missing anything!) (minors dni with those posts or send nsfw asks, you will be blocked) tutorial on how to mute tags!!

-along that same vein, this isnt a nsfw blog. i wont draw nsfw here, and any spam nsfw asks will not be answered.

-im a very slow artist! please be patient if your ask is taking particularly long, im either busy or drawing it!! (i work extra on weekends so expect slow updates fri-sun)

this ref sheet is mostly just for me bcz i WILL forget every detail of these characters as soon as i go to bed tonight LMAO

more characters will be added as they appear!

[chestnutisland]

Are you ready for our annual Chestnutfest?!

Posted a month in advance, I hope that's enough time for you lovelies to whip up something sweet to celebrate our favourite DBZ OTP♥ Please click Read More to view this year's details!

Happy creating everyone! And pls do share the post around!♥

As always, here are some guidelines.

Starting the 12th of September, upload your submission for the day's theme, note that 9/18 is a free space but you can also use the theme Indirect kiss for that day, and tag me so I can re-blog your marvelous creations! Please use the following tags in the first 5 tags of your post so I can see them in my tracked tags. They are the blog tag Chestnutisland and this years specific tag Chestnutfest2k24. You can also Mention me as @ chestnutisland (without the space) and I will get a notification.

Preferably upload the theme for each day on the actual day but if you can't or rather upload them all at the same time for example, or maybe can't finish on time for one of the days, or just want to participate for one or a few days, that's fine too. As long as you use the tag system I will see it.

Of course, this is Tumblr we're talking about so if for some reason I don't see your work, please send me a DM.

Of course, you are also welcome to use the submit post button to directly submit to me!

Any medium is allowed, art, fics, AMV's,moodboards, playlists, anything you can come up with.

Any rating is allowed, however for NSF(W)T works, please censor your work and use a link to a different website to view uncensored. Please use a Read More as well as a community label and tag appropriately. In example, Ao3 and Pixiv both allow these kinds of works.

No works that break up K18, please. And Absolutely No NTR or ANYTHING of that nature. I will not share it and I will instantly and permanently block you if you submit it.

Please use Tumblr's link feature for off-site fics like on AO3 or FF.net, use a read more if you post fiction directly to Tumblr, that way we don't clog up everybody's dashboards.

Other characters are allowed in your works, of course, hey the more the merrier right? But do make sure K18 is the main focus, please.

The exceptions to the above rule are submissions for 9/17. I decided to dedicate one day of the fest to Android 17 and/or Marron. You can focus on one of them for that day or both, as long as one of them is the focus it's totally cool. Oh and just in case and to be crystal clear because it is out there...**Do not submit Mar17 works, I do not condone those sorts of works for these two characters together!** Ship art of either of them with different characters is allowed as long as it is appropriate. For example, MarTen or 17xOC is fine.

As always, if you have any questions, just send an ask or DM my way, and I'll happily answer any you may have!

This post will be queued a few more times before the start of the fest.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Their Song (Killshot, Part 4.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: While Ghost was trying to process the new information during his military duties, Cassie had a different idea on her mind - inviting you both to join the party during the upcoming karaoke session.

A/N: Okay listen, I know we're here for our boy Ghost and his story, but come on - we can not ignore how fine of a specimen Captain John fucking Price is. Like girl, don't even pretend you wouldn't be smitten by this charmer. He's the catch, the moment, the stunner. I wanted to write a chapter that focuses on the relationship between other characters too, so expect some bonding between Johnny, Cass, Nelly, Gaz and Price. Cuz we love good friendships and happy families. The chapter's ending is heavily influenced by Saturn and Turning Page by Sleeping at Last.

Warnings: Strong mentions of anxiety, reader getting hammered, usage of alcohol, and smoking (both mentioned and active), Simon Riley secretly having the voice of an angel. A lot of '...' is used in emotionally heavy moments. Mentions of various pop songs - it's not important, you can imagine singing any song you'd like - the only song I'm adamant about is Meet Me At Our Spot (by the Anxiety) being their song because the entirety of the story is built on it.

Word count: 9.5K (i have no apology)

Tagging: @poohkie90​

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Cassie did as she promised - after Simon texted her the address, she was at your flat within the next 15 minutes. The traffic was usually clogged at this hour, but she did her best. Simon couldn't appreciate it enough. "... And I've cooked some vegetable broth for when she wakes up. Think it's a bit strong, but whatever. It'll get her back on her feet.." - Simon explained to Cassie as he walked through the flat, explaining what went down that evening. The woman listened intently, nodded, and hummed when needed. - "Promised her I'd wake her up when it's done, but she looked miserable the last time I checked on her."

"That's very nice of you." - Cassie smiled, putting her coat away as she was making herself more comfortable - she packed fresh homey clothes and the most basic hygiene she could need in case your flu got even worse than that. Living alone wasn't easy and sometimes, you needed someone to rely on - Cassie, still considering you one of her closest friends, was glad she could be that someone for you. - "She's lucky someone's looking out for her like you do.

"The least I could do, really." - The man grunted, putting his jacket on. No matter how much he liked being around Cass, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He was barely containing the urge to beat Billy to a pulp and he didn't want to direct these intense emotions towards Cass or, in the worst case, you. - "Bonnie's also taken care of, took her for a walk, and checked she had enough to drink and to eat. Would be wise to walk her in the morning, though." "Aye aye, captain. Stop worrying - you keep on forgetting that I live with Johnny, I know how to make shit work." - The blonde nodded, smirking at all the concern she could see in Simon's eyes. - "I'm sure both of them will be alive and well tomorrow morning if you'd like to check on them. Or, you could cancel your plans and hang around? I'm sure Y/N would be delighted to see you when she wakes up." "Can't. It's urgent." - Simon dismissed, looking around for the last time. The peaceful image of being able to put his shoes in the same shoe rack was smushed by all the anxiety and hatred he was feeling. It felt as if this image flashed in his head years ago, not a few hours ago.

Cassie was waiting for Simon to make sure everything was okay - it was hard to say what was going on inside his mind, but there had to be something. Yes, she and Johnny caught the wind that your chemistry seemed to be flowing well - especially after you disclosed to her that Ghost visits you nearly every shift, spending your lunch breaks together. She wouldn't have suspected the two of you were at this stage, though. Cassie was... Genuinely happy when she heard Simon was at your place, taking care of you when you got sick. The two of you were one of the best people she had gotten to know - and from what little Johnny told her about L.t., neither of you had the best of luck with the people who hung around you. Cassie wasn't sure who it was when it came to Simon, but in your case, Billy was the prime example. She hated his guts ever since you introduced them on one of your shifts. The guy gave her the chills even though she mostly liked everyone - that was a major red flag.

Therefore, the knowledge of the two of you... Spending time together, getting to know each other... That was something that made Cassie smile. "Hey, Si?" - She asked when Simon finally walked to the front door, ready to leave the apartment. "What is it?" "Hope you didn't forget about next Saturday?" "How could I? You and Johnny keep bugging me off about it. Price also chimed in today." - Ghost reiterated with irony, sending one of his famous wink in Cassie's direction. - "Can't wait." "Take care, big guy."

For the next few hours, Cassie and Bonnie dozed off while watching the Bake Off - the two were splayed on the couch, nuzzling together. Bon usually slept in your bed (you even bought the doggie stairs for her since she was too small to hop onto it), but since your door was shut tight and there was a new strange human friend to hang around, she gladly spent the night with Cass. It could be around four in the morning when you woke up, setting on a journey to take a piss, have some veggie broth, take some painkillers, and then, go to sleep again. As you noticed Cassie messaging her eyes (the creaking of your floorboards woke her up), you thought you'd simply made her up. The last you remembered, Ghost didn't have long blonde hair and a petite figure. She frightened you when you walked back into the living room - the girl was standing in the small kitchenette area, heating up the broth while making you both a cup of tea.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty." - She hummed as she stretched her back, yawning as she did so. "Hi." - You muttered back, coughing right after. - "What are you doing here? When... Did you come?" "Around 8? Ghost had something going on and couldn't stay, unfortunately, so he called for backup. I'm the backup." "Figures. So sorry to bother you, but I'm good, Cass. Bet you'd rather be doing anything else than hanging around with me right now." "Shush, Y/N. I'm glad to be here." - The woman answered, sending you one of her heartfelt, genuine smiles. Damn, she was still the same sunshine you remembered. - "On a different topic, I hope you're hungry. The broth smells so damn good." "He promised to wake me up when it's done. Bet the plans came out of nowhere." - You assumed, putting on a sweater to try to fight off the chills. You were so cold that your teeth kept on clattering.

"Does sound like Ghost to me." - The girl answered, snickering. - "He checked on the flat at least four million times before he left, though, so you can be sure we're safe and sound here." "Were you cleaning up?" - You wondered, noticing the folded clothes - furrowing at the sight of your coat also being neatly folded. Whoever was cleaning up your kitchen was a damn genius. All of the appliances suddenly seemed pristine, even those that you struggled to clean for years. Everything was organized in a way that simply made sense. It was hard to explain, but the newly given order made your kitchen three times nicer. Also, all the mess laying around the flat, that you've been planning on cleaning the entire week, was neatly put on the coffee table for you to organize - along with that fucking photo... And that fucking letter. "No, me and Bon dozed off after McAvoy went on a tangent about his dough being a bit too wet." - Cassie admitted honestly, putting a mug filled with hot tea in front of you. You didn't flinch away from the sight of the photo and the letter lying on the coffee table, your expression devoid of emotion.

Ghost, you realized, your expression slowly drowning in worry and horror. Did Ghost see it? Did Ghost read it? Of course he did, you didn't bother with picking up the photo even though you knew it was lying under the fridge. Why would you? But what about about you now? You were in so much trouble, if Billy gets to know, he'll come and... You had to almost slap yourself. Billy wasn't there to do shit anymore. You were safe. As you sat there, frozen in place, you realized you weren't even mad at Ghost - it felt so freeing for someone to know. To know what you're going through, to see it all on paper. You should've been raging, you should ask Cassie to call Ghost's sorry ass so you could talk with him about who gave him the right to fucking snoop - and instead, you were so fucking grateful. A huge portion of the weight was lifted off your shoulders, realizing there was someone you could confide in regarding what Billy said... You could tell Ghost about everything Billy had done to you.

Sure, most people didn't like Billy, but none of the said people knew how bad the situation truly was. Others could see only how he treated you in public - how he talked about you as if you were a pet, something he had to take care of, something so annoying he hated it with every fiber of his being. What they didn't know? About everything that had happened in your old apartment, about what went down behind the closed doors. None of them knew about the numerous emergency visits, about all the 'stairs you've fallen off', about the holes in the walls, about the broken furniture and dishes. The people around you, except your mum, didn't know. The fact you didn't file a report against his ass was astonishing - you had plenty of chances to do so. The doctor who treated you anytime you came in asked multiple times if you'd like to share something with him - you could see it in his eyes - he knew. But you never did. You were too scared. So scared you fled one day.

You should've burnt both, the photo and the letter, just like you promised your mum. Instead, the evidence lay right there, on your coffee table, and someone whom you trusted dearly was aware of your struggle.

"You alright?" - Cassie wondered, watching your distressed expression. "Hm?" "I'm asking if you're alright, been silent for the past couple of minutes. You're looking like you've seen a ghost." "I'm pretty sure he's asleep by now, but okay." - You answered, your sass making Cassie snicker.

After you've both eaten a bowl of that delicious fucking broth (it was the best you've had in your life), chatting about everything new in your respective lives, Cassie fished out a package of butter biscuits from literally nowhere. Later, she admitted she found them in the pantry - this made you smile. While biscuits weren't your go-to snack, you could appreciate them - Ghost thought of everything. He bought utensils, medicine, actual food and even snacks. If God finally decided to answer your prayers for a guardian angel, Ghost was it. "'s the tea okay?" - Cass wondered, sitting opposite you with a croaked smile. Bonnie was lying by her feet, hoping Cassie would drop at least a crumble of cookies by 'accident'. "Best I've had in years. Poured your heart into making that cuppa, didn't you?" "You bet, love. Anywho, Johnny and I were wondering... What you're up to next Saturday?" "Nothing I can think of. I'll probably have a spa day with my mum. Hadn't taken her out in a month." "Would you like to come to a karaoke with us? It's in the evening, so you'd have plenty of time for your mum and yourself." - Cass asked excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope. - "Everyone's wondering if you'd show up!"

"Uh-uh, they surely are." - You reiterated uncomfortably. It was hard to believe any of the people surrounding Cassie would genuinely want you around - you could say Cass was enthralled by the prospect of having you join their little crew, but the rest? "Not this again, girl. For starters, Johnny is talking my ear off regarding you, constantly asking if I've invited you yet? What did the bonnie say? You hadn't asked her? Shite, hon, pick up the phone and do it right now!" - The way she horridly imitated Johnny's accent made you genuinely laugh. - "Nelly asked countless times if you'd join our brunches and hangouts, she hadn't talked to you in years. Kylie will be there. Gaz promised he'd stop by for a drink, and Price... Girl, you'll love Capt'n Prize. He's easygoing, fun and very easy on the eyes." "Cass! Behave, you have a man at home." - You exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "What?! He's one handsome bloke, a high-ranking geezer in the military, too - I won't be denying he's handsome. If you think I'm wicked, you should hear what Johnny says about the guy! You have no idea how many times I've had to listen to Johnny's rambling about John's pecs." - With this, you both giggled until comfortable silence fell over the room.

"So... Are you coming?" "I... I don't think it's appropriate. You guys seem like a good party of friends, I'd be your plus one - the new weirdo on the block. Yannow what I mean?" "Except you wouldn't be, dummy. C'mon, everybody wants you to come. Ghost even said it's his only condition - you wouldn't wanna let the guy rot at home now, would you?" "He said that? You're committing emotional extortion right now, Cassandra." - You tried to circle around, but Cass' knowing smile revealed she was seeing right through your bullshit - she knew well to keep Ghost's wish under wraps until the last moment. It was nice watching you get excited, giddy up and grin a bit. She didn't answer your question, just smiled - "Well... If that's the case, I might drop for a glass or two." "I'm so happy to hear that. Wear whatever bloody hell you want, we don't care, just feel comfy and come in a good mood. The drinks are on us, we'll only need help with the rental. Also - we need to sing a song together." "No way Cass. You remember how bad I am at singing, right?" "Bull-fucking-shit. It's gonna be so epic. God, I can't wait."

Well, no matter how much you tried to resist and how you planned on shutting Cass' request down, by 9 p.m. on the following Saturday, the two were yelling some pop-song lyrics into the microphone with a drink in your hand. Holy fuck it felt wonderful to let all the worries and burdens go, even for one evening.

The week leading up to the karaoke session was a doozie for both you and Simon. He contemplated asking Cassie for your number, to call you, text, check on you - he'd been scheduled to look after rookie training in a boot camp a few miles away from London, unable to make it back even for a small chat. He vanished into thin air at the worst time - he acknowledged but couldn't do anything to let you know. The man wished to let you know he wasn't mad and that he certainly wasn't going anywhere - but opening such a sensitive topic with the victim of domestic abuse was very tricky. Of which he was aware, as he also fell into this bracket. At times, Ghost wished he'd be better at conveying emotions and more approachable to open such topics. Although everything that happened during his life, he'd considered himself a good listener - he highly doubted you'd simply spill the beans about the darkest time of your life when you meet up next time, let alone acknowledge he snooped in your private matters without your permission. Were you mad at him? How much will you tell Ghost off when he makes it back home? Will it lead to a well-deserved argument? It should, right? The thoughts about you and William consumed Simon's brain during each second of the service, turning him into an anxious ball by the end of the week.

Not that you'd be faring better than Simon. If it was possible, you were doing even worse than he was - what was wrong? Where was he? Was he okay? Did the letter make him change his mind? Did Ghost draw false conclusions from it? Each day at work, you hoped to see the man approaching in the distance, carrying two cups - this would be the first sign that everything was okay. You wished he'd drop by for a chat, even if you'd awkwardly sit around in silence. Being unable to see him was killing you - only on Thursday you learned about his minor deployment. It didn't ease the stress much, but at least you knew you weren't the cause of his disappearance.

Cassie and Johnny, thankfully, pulled through. The night Cass stayed over, watching you, rekindled the long-lost friendship and fueled it with a new flame. This one was gentler, not all-consuming - it wasn't the spontaneous friendship of two kids but rather a meaningful adult connection you felt you were missing. Your mum was over the moon hearing that Cass invited you for a karaoke - as you told her about Johnny bringing you breakfast the following morning put a gentle, knowing smile on her face. The two started texting you whenever they felt like it, ranging from 'How you doing' to 'Look what a weird strange thing I found in the store today'. Johnny even came on Friday to have lunch with you - he'd been just dismissed from the base (he had to sign some new payment estimates and take a picture for his personnel folder), sending warmest regards from Ghost. This boosted your mood immensely, turning you into a brand new person.

This led you to Saturday night. Everyone invited to the karaoke was pretty neat, you had to admit. Nelly, just as Cass solemnly swore, was over the moon when she saw you approaching the table, squealed, and immediately pulled you into one of her bear hugs. Kylie, even though you didn't remember her, was easy to be around - she had a nice aura surrounding her as she sipped on her margarita. Gaz, Kyle to you, was another member of Johnny's squad, you've learned on your way to get a drink. The gentleman got on his feet when you announced you'd like something to drink, offering to accompany you. There was something about his careful tone, gentle smirk and slightly narrowed eyes. While you perceived Johnny as an unstoppable force fuelled by sweets and coffee, Gaz seemed calmer, like cold gauze treating a burn or the soothing smell of air after rain. You loved his aura - every bit of energy Kyle offered, you took with a grateful smile.

John Price, Capt'n Prize as Cass dubbed him, was every bit like Cass painted him out to be - even more than that. It was hard to believe he was real at first - men like him usually ended up on the cover of Sears. Your eyes were there for Ghost and Ghost only, but damn, John was ridiculously easy on the eyes, charming, and attractive - a fucking stunner at his finest. When you got over his ridiculous attractiveness, there was everything else about John Price. There was something about his sharp wit, rascalous grin and devious jitters in his eyes, something about the way he insisted on joining him on his smoke breaks. The guy was a good listener, sneering and gruffing upon hearing your jokes and stories, his eyes not leaving you for a second. If you weren't smitten with your masked soldier, you'd beg Price to give you his number by the end of the night.

Ghost was running late ('Don't you worry 'bout the boy, lass, he's alright', Price informed), and after Gaz brought you your third drink, singing sounded like a good fucking idea. Not too much later, you and Cassie were jumping on the impromptu stage, dancing to some sort of British electro-pop, grinning from ear to ear - Ghost was standing in the shuffle door of your reserved lounge, watching you two enjoying the moment. He'd imagined how to explain his late arrival and the fact he was gone for a week, but the moment you sent him a smile and waved at him, already a bit tipsy, all the excuses dissipated into thin air.

You looked so beautiful when you were having fun - all the worries and everyday problems disappeared with a wave of a wand (more probably a microphone, that was), and alcohol gave you the long-lost courage and love for life. Ghost had seen you happy before, yes, but he hadn't seen you entirely carefree yet. "Thank you, Lucky Voice, thank you! We'll be here all week!" - Cass cried out drunkenly, bobbing a curtsy to the entire table of drunkards watching you. "The hell we won't, the rental price is insane here, lass!" - Johnny protested, making Cass laugh. Kylie and Gaz got up, preparing to sing Abba's 'Super Trouper' right after your tremendous performance. Even though Ghost would love nothing but listening to them, he couldn't miss how you approached him, your legs unsteady and uncertain.

"Hey there, stranger." "Hey, love." - The man whispered, growing soft upon looking at your flustered face. You were a bit sweaty from all the jumping, but you still looked so fucking good. So fucking good that Ghost had to do his best not to kiss you right off the bat in fact - it was a tough week and you were finally there, in front of him, close enough he could feel your warmth on his skin, close enough to be hugged, kissed and cherished... Your presence felt like a fever dream. He'd been sacked at the boot camp, looking over rookies, and following orders while having you and William on his mind all the fucking time. One moment, he swore he'd kill the guy the next chance he got; when he blinked, memories of you suddenly appeared, plastering yourself all over his brain, smiling sweetly at him. He's been missing your presence, the unmistakable charm you were bringing to the world... It was a week since he'd been under your spell and there was no other place in the entire world he'd rather be than at the karaoke bar, right by your side. "You're looking... Rough." "Am I now?" "Long week?" "Fuckin' tell me about it." "The boys mentioned. Wanna grab a drink and go for a smoke break? I'm fresh out of mine so I'd appreciate both - some booze and fresh air." "Would be my pleasure."

Asking him about all the details he'd been willing to share, the two of you grabbed a drink and ventured in front of the karaoke bar for a bit, lazily shuffling back into the rented lounge. Even though you tried your damnest to prolong the moment you were having with Ghost, Johnny ruined the intimacy the moment he saw you approaching - the guy jolted over to you, grabbing you by your elbow with great care. "We're gonna sign, bonnie lass, me 'n you. Price found the perfect song for us." "Did he now? That sounds menacing." "It'll be in good fun, c'mon. Be a good sport for me, eh?" "I would never turn you down, Johnny. I'm just worried about which tune Price picked out, 's all."

"Give me your drink. I'll fetch it to the table." - Ghost offered silently, melting at the sight of you and Johnny giggling like two little kids. With a sorrowful smile, your glass ended up in Ghost's palm - you wished the moment would've lasted longer, that you'd have longer for listening to him rambling about everything and nothing. You missed him. "'m sorry." - You added, stopping in your tracks. Johnny halted alongside you, watching the two of you ogling back and forth, Simon's eyes boring into you with unmatched intensity. If you'd let him, his eyes would probably devour you whole. Johnny let out a quiet whistle, waiting for you to be done with your small moment. Cassie proclaimed how she's positive Simon is into you and that you might be interested in him... But seeing it unravel in front of his eyes was adorable.

Your eyes never left Simon's face, your palm gently holding onto his forearm. You were standing inappropriately close - Simon could feel your breast bumping into his arm each time you took a breath. If you were anyone else (Nelly, for example), Ghost would've already shown you out of his personal space - but the guy did nothing, even took an almost unnoticeable step closer. The bloody bastard that reached an impressive 6'4 in height seemed to grow smaller and gentler in your presence, his eyes filled to the brim with warmth and adoration - why two you weren't dating yet was beyond Soap, truly. "Nothin' to be sorry about, love. You go and enjoy yourself now, yeah?" "I'll catch you later."

Moments later, you found yourself in a fit of laughter over Johnny's interpretation of 'California Gurls'. You loved everything about it - the false confidence he radiated despite not having any semblance of musical hearing, his inability to match his tone to the note progression and his horrible timing. The chorus, however, was something to behold - neither of you tried to sing, knowing the chorus by heart (thanks to this song being in the radio on a fucking loop), you simply yelled it into each other's faces, bouncing around and hyping each other up. Price didn't even cover the phone - he immortalized each second of your moving performance, sending it to Cassie the moment he ended recording. Cassie and Nelly were crying, losing it the moment you did your best to imitate Snoop Dog - Gaz appeared to be severely traumatized, cracking a grin when the hellish screeching finally stopped.

"Bloody hell, this was one of the best decisions of my life." - Price muttered, drying his cheeks. He meant it, none of them laughed this hard in the last few weeks. Cass was dragging him to sing their rendition of Take Me Out. - "I'm playin' this on your bloody wedding, sarge. Stellar." These two picked out Franz Ferdinand as their band of choice, dramatically portraying each lyric - alcohol and good company always made John pipe down, relax and sometimes, on extremely rare occasions, do rather silly and inappropriate things you wouldn't see a military skipped doing... Just as jumping around to the riff of 'Take Me Out'. "That's my fiancé! I taught my bonnie lass to listen to good fucken' music!" - Johnny explained, listening to the opening chords. You knew it, of course, it was well-known, but Johnny's sudden burst of pride made you stare at him with mouth agape. Thankfully, Kyle and Ghost to the rescue.

"Johnny can get a wee bit patriotic." - Kyle explained as the Scotsman jumped around in the rhythm, making you a bit terrified. "Uh-uh." - Ghost nodded, confirming. - "Hates us 'fucking lunatics', meaning Brits, according to his own words. Everyone except you and Cass according to his latest statement. Love that about the chap, though." "What does patriotism have to do with... Fucking anything?" - At that moment, Johnny started screaming the words with the same "grace" he sang California Gurls with. It looked both scary and funny at the same time. "The band is Scottish, you see?" - Kyle explained. "Heard him swearin' he'd plunk any uncultured swine who'd tarnish their rep." - Ghost added, taking a good swing of his whiskey. "Hillarious..." - Kyle added, clinking his glass with yours, kicking all the remnants in. "Scary." - You hummed, moving out of the way for Kyle to comfortably leave the table.

"On the topic of Johnny... Looked good out there. Didn't know you're such a talented singer." - Ghost murmured as you watched the trio, enchanted with how silly they acted. "You're fucking with me now, aren't you?" "I'm serious - wasn't as bad as I expected. Enjoyed every second of your brilliant performance." "If you enjoyed that, your musical hearing is fucked, buddy, sorry to inform you. Anywho, what will you sing?" "Oh, I'm just here for fun and banter. I don't do singing." "Don't be a party popper. C'mon." "And have you poking fun at me for the rest of my life? No, thank you." - Thankfully, he was saved by Nelly - she was asking for help with moving and assembling some furniture at her new place. Both Gaz and Ghost agreed to take a look at it whenever she needed them to.

His streak of not 'taking part in singing at karaoke' was challenged not even two hours later. The party had moved from drinks to shots - you were more courageous, not taking no for an answer. You, Cass and Nelly even had the first round of ugly crying of the night under your belts, crying about how you should've rekindled the friendship way sooner - at this, all the gentlemen decided to go for a smoke break, leaving Kyle behind as your nanny. As soon as Price got back, you were on his ass - sighing about him being one of the most handsome blokes you've ever met. Price could only choke out an amused: - "Why, thank you, miss." - before laughing his ass off at your drunk expression. You were standing in front of Simon now, your palm extended to him, chin risen ever so slightly. The expression you had was dangerous - determined and cocky.

"You need anythin'?" - Ghost prompted, grinning at the sight. He'd downed two glasses of whiskey by that point, the bourbon delicately burning in his chest. "Yah. You, me, the stage, now." - It wasn't a question nor a wish, it was an order. Simon's eyes narrowed as he smiled, darkening ever so slightly. He liked it when you were bossy. Cass, unbeknownst to your knowledge, bumped Johnny's shoulder, the duo now shamelessly staring at you. The rest of the table was engaged in a conversation as Price and Kyle told the ladies some of the less confidential stories. "I don't do singing, already told you when you asked." "Too bad I'm not asking. Move your ass, I spent ten fuckin' minutes looking for our song." "Our song?" - Simon whispered, all the air suddenly kicked out of his lungs. Of course, he knew what song you had in mind - the one playing when he worked on the chicken broth. Ashamedly, Simon had to admit he memorized each word, each chord because he had it playing on a loop in his headphones before going to sleep. "C'mon, mate. Make an exception, just for once - won't kill ya to sing. Poor lass barely hit the right keys." - Soap chimed in, his strong Scottish accent overwhelming the conversation - everyone's eyes were on you now, waiting for Simon to finally take your fucking hand. "Shit was kinda blurry, 's right." - You admitted, still waiting for Simon to take your hand. It wasn't a shame to admit you barely recognized a from m at this point, the alcohol kicked in big time.

His palm caught yours, slipping around it like a glove... As if your hands were moulded to be held by this, fitting like two pieces of a fucking puzzle. Getting you onto the improvised stage was a task in itself - you've stuttered on your way up and if it wasn't for Simon's hands catching your shoulders, you'd fall square on your face. "Who's singing Willow's part?" - Simon wondered as you offered him his microphone - your eyes darted next to his head as if you were trying to determine which of the Ghosts in front of you was the real one. "You, duh. Bet you're rocking luscious, beautiful curls under that mask 'f yours." "Fuckin' close 'nough, I guess." - The guy laughed, shaking his head at you - your drunk form was absolutely fucking adorable. If he'd have to describe it, you looked like a mischievous little devil. "Hit it, Jack!" - You exclaimed, pointing in Johnny's direction - Cassie was kneeling in front of the table with her phone at the ready, determined to catch every second of what was coming. Fuck, Simon realized, he'll have this on his plate for the foreseeable future. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" - Soap answered with matching intensity, saluting as he his 'play'. The known base filled the silent lounge, having everyone staring at you with their breaths batted - you were swaying in the rhythm, your moves far from graceful but you were clearly enjoying yourself, lost in the moment.

You didn't know what you were expecting - Simon was a well-built man with 6'3 height under his belt, his voice naturally guttural and gruffly, clouded with a thick British accent. While you braced yourself to hear the most horrible hellish screeching imaginable, Simon's singing almost gave you a heart attack and swept Johnny off his drunk feet. Ghost sounded like an angel. All of you stared at the man in disbelief as he poured his fucking soul into the lyrics, hitting each fucking note perfectly. His interpretation of your favourite song was what you wanted to listen to over and over, selfishly wishing you'd record it. Simon had to poke your shoulder to make you realise it was your turn to sing - hastily, you joined him during the chorus, surprising your small audience even further.

Your singing wasn't bad, but not Grammy-worthy either - and yet, hearing you two harmonize was magical. Soon, you'd forget about your friends at the table, staring at each other while singing your hearts out. His eyes hadn't moved from yours, the man sang each line as if he meant it - it made your heart beat heavily in your chest. For Simon, it wasn't just singing - each line of the song had a meaning. It was one of his silly little wishes it could become your reality where you'd met earlier in your lives. In this universe, you'd be just two young adults falling in love, meeting up so you'd forget all about the stress and anxiety tying you down in each other's arms.

In that reality, Simon could be enough for you and you'd be enough for yourself. You wouldn't feel the need to stick around guys who weren't good for you, you wouldn't receive extortive mail, and you wouldn't be alone. He wouldn't cover his face because he couldn't stand to look himself in the eye, neither because he was protecting his identity. In this reality, William wouldn't exist. You'd have your spot in each others' arms, falling asleep feeling safe. In this reality, you could lead a happy, day-to-day life. There was a small moment when the song finished, a glimpse of a second when Simon almost kissed you. Your expression was adoring, glimmering with happiness and pure, unconditional love - the microphone dropped by your hip, and you were staring into his eyes, taking a small step closer. The whole moment was ruined by Nelly getting up, clapping and whistling cheerfully, others following suit - not bad for Si's karaoke debut, Cassie had to admit.

As you stumbled away from Simon's reach, you stumbled on your feet again, falling flat on the ground this time. - "Fuck." "Aight, missy, 's 'nough for you tonight. I'll take you home, yeah?" "Noooo, Ghoooost..." - You whined dramatically as he helped you over to the table, sitting you down. - "The party just started, man. We can't leave now." "You tell that to your toilet later. Price?" - Ghost called out, catching his skipper's attention. - "Can you look after Miss Diva for a second? Gotta go to the bog." "You got it, kid."

It couldn't have taken more than five minutes to take a piss, Simon rushed the entire process to be back as soon as possible. And yet, you were gone when he made it back - your coat disappeared from the hanger, your purse gone too. Jesus fucking Christ. You were giving him a run for his money. "Where is she?" - Simon demanded, burning a hole in Price's forehead. Five fucking minutes. He was meant to look after you for five fucking minutes. "Y/N got some sort of a text and said she has to leave immediately. Who am I to stop her? She's an adult. Can make her own bloody decisions." "I was just about to walk her home." "Then you should've said so. Hadn't caught that." "Right."- Ghost fumed out, turning to Cassie. - "Can you give me her number?" "Yeah, of course, let me text it to you. Want help with finding her?" "You go and enjoy the rest of the night." "Si!" - Cassie cried out as Simon turned on his heels, following him immediately. - "I'm sorry, but John's right. We weren't listening in and Y/N's a grown-up..." "It's fine, Cass. I'll find her."

You couldn't have made it far - in the state you were in, on your wobbly and unsteady legs? No way in hell you'd make it even around the block. What worried Simon, however, was the park to his right hand. The man hoped you had enough reason not to walk through it. The first thing he heard was a hiccup before you drunkardly mumbled your name, doing your best impression of being sober. "'s me. Where have you fuckin' disappeared to?" "Me? I know a lot of mes, sir. My mum told me not to talk to strangers. S-Stranger fuckin' danger an' all that, yannow?" "It's Ghost, Y/N, you slipped out of the karaoke bar. Where the hell are you, woman?" "Awwww, hiiiii. I didn't know *hiccup* you had my number?" "Got it from Cass. Can you spill the tea?" "'m on my way home." - You explained as if it weren't obvious. - "The mood for partying kinda dropped to zero, decided I gotta go check on my adorable little doggo. I missed my sweet little princess." "That's all sweet. What do you see around you?" - Thankfully, you were drunk enough not to catch onto his plan of finding you and started to talk about your surroundings. For once, Simon was grateful for drunk people being gullible and honest.

"Trees. Lots of 'em. 's kinda dark around but I'm pretty sure some food *hiccup* in the distance. Yep, right up the vein!" "Dearie, don't say this sort'f stuff so loud, yeah?" - Simon asked, turning on his heels towards the park. He could hear you giggle on the other end, the sweet sound making him grin. - "What's that about?" "Dearie is cute 'n all, but I like it when you call me love. Makes me weak in my knees 'n all." - You admitted, stuttering over your words as you tee-heed again as if you told Simon some well-guarded secret. As if Simon didn't already know. "'kay love, tell me more about your surroundings, I'm on my way to get you. Can call you love for the rest of the night if you'd fancy that." "Ohmygod..." - You sighed swiftly, chuckling at the prospect ahead. Ghost tenderly whispering 'love' the whole night sounded like a fucking dream come true. - "You'd *hiccup*... You'd like to do that?" "Wished to do so for the longest time, love."

"I can see a bistro and some... Fuckin' statue. Whatever the fuck that's *hiccup* supposed to be, it's scary." "Any benches in the area?" - Even though your description was far from eloquent, Simon knew the place you had in mind. It was a small takeaway coffee selling baked goods and hot drinks to go. He hadn't visited it, but Cass mentioned it here and there because it wasn't far from her workplace and she enjoyed going there on her lunch break. The statue, if he wasn't mistaken, was representing either Shakespeare or Peter Pan, but Simon was unable to recall it correctly at the moment. As he suspected, you didn't get far at all. "Quite a lot. Fuck, I think it's some sort'f a square or somethin'." "Sit down for me, love, I'll be there soon. Stay with me on the phone for now, yeah?" "But I miss Bonnie soooo much, Ghost, I just wanna..." - He could hear as you struggled to sit down and fell onto the bench beats later. It was hard to make out what you precisely wanted to do to Bonnie, but he could hear some humming and kisses here and there. - "She's home all alone, my poor baby." "Not for long now, I swear, we'll take off as soon as I find you. How you're feelin'?" "Haven't thrown up yet. 's a good sign, no?" "Look at you. Quite impressive given everything you've poured down your throat." "I can handle my *hiccup* fuckin' alcohol." "You sure can..." - Simon answered breathlessly, finally reaching the spot - he could see your silhouette splayed all over the bench, your coat undone, your purse lying right next to you. - "You sure can, love." - He said as he approached, having you sit up straight faster than lightning. Your expression started beaming with blissful happiness the second you laid your eyes on him.

"Hi, Ghost!" - You squealed, shoving the phone into your purse, not caring to end the call. - "You look good tonight. *hiccup* Have I told you that already?" "Not that I can recall, no. Lookin' beautiful yourself." "Now you're just making shit up, I'm fuckin' wasted, dude. Drunk people never look sexy, 's what I always said anyway." "You look amazing all the time, love, without a fail. C'mon now, let's get you home." "You mean that?" - You whispered, your eyes glued to his as he helped you to stand your feet. Without his arm around your waist guiding you forward, you'd be fucked. Everything was blurry and multiplied, you couldn't say which trees were real and which were just a fragment of your imagination. "Never meant anything more in my life. Even in the most worn-out sweatpants you own. Let me take you home now, you sexy beast." "Never say that again. Sexy beast? Love's so much better. Jesus." "Your wish is my command, ma'am." - Ghost muttered sweetly, leading you towards the bus stop. Both of you were laughing, you were right - 'sexy beast' was the most horrid-sounding pet name that ever graced Simon's lips.

As mentioned before, Simon hated being the centre of attention - everything about that made the hair on his arms stand in pure displeasure. He hated when people stared at him, fearing that he was a threat; he just wished to blend into the crowd and remain unseen and unnoticed. Let's just say... That being unnoticed in a packed double-decker in central London with a giggling, drunken mess in his arms was near impossible. For once, however, Simon wouldn't change for the world - it was endearing to feel you grasping his jacket, nuzzling yourself closer so you wouldn't fall on some stranger in such a confined space. Watching and feeling your head leaning to his chest with a confined smile, taking a relaxed breath - smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. He'd imagined this so many times. Even though the circumstances were far from perfect, everything about it made Simon happy. He'd come to rescue you from any party you'd go to just to feel the fuzzy warmth bubbling in his chest again.

When you finally arrived at your flat, the first thing you did was turn into a whiney mess - instantly, you were on your knees, your clothes leaving very little to Simon's imagination. You burrowed your head in Bonnie's fur, sobbing uncontrollably. As he locked the door behind you, Simon simply hoped it was happy, let it be ugly, crying. "She's... She's so perfect." - You sobbed, pulling Bonnie close to your chest as you looked up to Simon, your make-up absolutely ruined by that point. The dog was clueless and didn't know what was happening - it simply licked your chin feverishly, welcoming you home. - "She's the best thing in my life right nooooow..." - And now, you were whaling. Great. Drunk women were the most ferocious and dangerous creatures in the universe - Simon was adamant about that. - "I love her soooo fucking much." "Absolutely correct, love, she's our perfect little girl. How about we clean your face and change you to more comfortable clothes?" Simon whispered, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Seriously, he needed you to change your clothes ASAP - he'd love anything else but watching your figure and curves (the current view alone was bringing Simon many indecent thoughts)... But drunk fucking wasn't something Riley would be interested in - if the two of you were going to have sex, it would be sober and with full consent. The man prayed to whatever gods up there to make you change into the baggiest sweatpants and shirt you had lying around to cool off his libido. As you crawled out of your bedroom in a Bristle Bears jersey with biker shorts under, the crisis was, thankfully, averted.

Twenty minutes later, you splattered over your sofa - the TV was playing in the background as you sat with your face turned to Simon. He gently ran at least the 20th makeup wipe over your face with the utmost gentleness he could muster, concentration knitting his eyebrows together. He even took the liberty of making you a cup of tea, God bless him.

The window was crooked open, the rest of his cig slowly burning out in an improvised ashtray you crafted for him. That was when Simon noticed yet another wave of tears in your eyes. "What is it, love? Did I poke your eye on accident?" "No, that's not it. Thank you for being so nice to me." - You sobbed, first tears rolling down your cheeks. Simon sighed, doing his best to keep his inner peace balanced - seeing you cry for the millionth time was both soul-crushing and tiring at the same time. "'s nothin', trust me. What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?"

"You." - It was just a whisper, but it made Simon straighten up - his head slightly tilted this shoulder, his eyebrows cocked in confusion. - "Ehm, I meant, your face. You're being so nice to me, take care of me even though you don't have to, spend your free time in that damn flower shop with me even though all I can offer is my company..." "But your company's enough for me, trust..." "... And I don't even know *sob* what you look like." - You whinced, wiggling away from his palm. You were doing your best to stop the childish tantrum, even bent your head backwards and tried pushing the tears back in. - "It just... Doesn't feel fair, yannow? I know you have your reasons for covering your face. I know I'm acting like an absolute asshole over something so minuscule right now. Do you realize how stupid I feel for crushing on someone whose face I hadn't seen? I'd recognize your eyes anywhere, but I'd like to see more. And no matter what, I can't stop wishing to see more, even though I know it won't ever happen. Like... You hadn't told me what your name is, I just got your number because you were pissed at me, you never talk about yourself, or share details... And me crying about it is the stupidest and most selfish thing fucking ever because I'm your friend, and I'm supposed to respect your fucking privacy..."

Simon didn't move for a few beats, tuning out whatever you were ranting about - not that he didn't want to listen, but because the simple confession stole his breath away. What did you just say? Crushing? You had a crush on him? Simon was ready to outright propose if you'd like to, right there on your sofa, to your whiney, drunk ass. Confirming you had true feelings for him was marvellous, stopping his mind from wondering whether just flirted around, making him out to be just a nice little distraction. You weren't. As he processed the information, he couldn't help but chuckle - the sound halted your crying and whining immediately. If you had asked him any other time, Simon would've most likely denied the request outright... But since you were both drunk, the liquid courage was making him less self-aware and more confident. Why not? Why shouldn't he just go for it? Take his chances with you?

"... And I even asked Cassie about you even though I knew I shouldn't... I'm such a fucking prick, bloody hell." "That's what you're cryin' your pretty eyes out about?" - Simon asked, completely detached from whatever you were going about for the last few minutes. "I mean... *sob* I know it's selfish 'n all, but I'd say... Fuck! Yannow, some guys on the telly said that non-verbal communication makes up to 70% of all human interactions." "All you gotta do is ask, pretty girl." - Simon murmured, his breath growing shallow - his heart was beating so fast as if it were to burst out of his fucking chest, pressure raising rapidly as he realized the insanity of what was he was about to do. He'd push the baklava off his face if his palms weren't a sweaty, trembling mess. "Ghost, I beg you - can I see what you look like?" "Take it off yourself, love."

Gently scooping closer to him, you pumped your fingers a few times to stop them from shaking. Your adrenaline shot through the roof, and you started dragging your fingers on his shoulders, slowly working your way to his neck - giving him time to process your touch and get used to the stimuli. His body felt scorching under your touch, his pulse fast under the tips of your fingers. His eyes were closed, breathing unsteady, muscles tensed up unnaturally. You could see Ghost's palm clinging to the back of your couch, his fingers buried in with a force that turned his knuckles white. As you finally started peeling the baklava off, his body shuttered, leaning away from you. As if it was an unconscious reaction, Simon didn't spend any time before sliding back within comfortable reach, already missing the comfort of your touch. "You sure it's okay for you?" "Mhm. Just keep goin'. Don't stop - if you stop, it'll kill me, darling." - Simon muttered, securing himself in place. His leg was lazily thrown over your waist so you'd sit puzzled together, Bonnie sleeping wedged into the small space. He wanted you to see. Simon wished to look you in the eyes without covering his face. He finally wished you to experience and feel all the love and adoration brewing within him. "Okay."

Much to his dismay, you were taking your bloody time, tearing the material off so agonizingly slow - one hand was lifting the fabric, your dominant hand gently caressing every inch of the newly discovered skin. Your eyes tried to memorise it all in case you wouldn't see it again - the dent in his chin, his fawn stubble, the sharp outline of his jaw, sharp contours of his cheeks, his plush and full lips and even the ugly scar reaching from his upper lip to his left nostril. Your caresses worshipped his hooked nose, the sweet dark spots under his eyes, and all the freckles standing out on his upper cheeks thanks to the area being exposed to the sun more than the rest of his place. He could feel your touches moulding his skin gently, dragging your fingers on the ugly scar on his temple, carefully tugging on his soft dirty blonde hair - then, suddenly, the baklava was fully off. Simon felt it coming, but it still surprised him; so much so that he squished his lips into a tight line, as if he tried to hide from your eyes for even a second longer. Your hand discarded the baklava almost carelessly. Knowing you've thrown Simon's most precious shield on the ground left him utterly defenceless in your arms, at the mercy of your words and actions. And yet, there was no other place he'd rather be in the entire world.

"Ghost..." - Your voice grew meek with adoration and emotion, your palms still kneading his face. It was then that he finally allowed himself to peek at you, to see your expression. Your lips were parted slightly, your face flushed with heat, your eyes scanning him adoringly. Tears were dropping on your cheeks again. This time, Simon knew they were the result of the happiness you felt, therefore he didn't comment on them. Fuck, he felt like the luckiest and most handsome man walking the Earth.

"Hey there, dolly." - Gently, his lips brushed over the inner side of your palm before he leaned back into the touch. "You're so fucking beautiful. Bonnie, look." - Picking the dog up, you pointed at Simon's face and giggled, making Simon smirk right back at you. The dog yawned, licking its mouth and shaking its head - it wasn't interested in Simon's face to reveal in the slightest. - "He's perfect. Isn't he perfect? Tell him how fucking flawless he is, come on." "You don't mean that. That's the alcohol talking." - Simon chuckled while looking away from you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced a gulp down his throat. Embarrassment painted his cheeks bright pink. You made him blush, you realized, staring at him with your mouth agape. The triumph made you cackle.

The duality of Ghost left you speechless - a confident, 6'4 guy not to be messed around with the mask, snarky humour, and his physical presence overwhelming you every time. This Ghost? Giggly, happy, slightly drunk. You loved how comfortable he looked with legs puzzled around your waist, his right arm leaning into the sofa as he looked everywhere around the room instead of you. You adored every inch of his dark pink blush and the entire universe that exploded, establishing itself behind his eyes. So this was the man you loved, the one you pinned after for the last few months? You loved every inch of him. Even if he'd look utterly different, you'd still be enchanted.

"Piss drunk people are always honest." - You admitted, caressing his upper arm. Were you staring? Probably. Was it making Ghost uncomfortable or flattered? Hard to tell. Could you be stopped? No. When will you get another chance like this, to fawn over his beauty in its full glory? He was everything you imagined... And much more than that.

"... I really like it when you blush." - It was a careful admission, but you meant it. You put Bonnie down on your lap again, leaning your elbow into the couch right next to his arm, so you could stare at him more comfortably. "... And I really like you." - Simon spilt without giving it too much thought, immediately realizing what he'd just said. Well, as Price often said, in for a penny - in for a pound. This was the night of admissions and confessions... At least it was turning out to be. And each little confession felt natural, lifting heaviness off his shoulders. You knew. You must've known by now. And yet, finally admitting to it felt uplifting. "I just want you to know that if I was bold enough, I'd kiss you right now, Ghost..." "Simon." - The man whispered, shutting you off. Hearing his government name lit your face up. An amazed sigh left your lips as you connected his name to his appearance, burning it into the back of your head. - "It's Simon Riley... My name's Simon Riley. I should've told you way sooner."

"Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon..." - You chanted as if you hadn't heard a more beautiful word before. Biting your lip, your hand has risen to his cheek again, cupping it gently. Hearing his own name falling off your lips like that was heavenly. - "A name for an angel rather than for a Ghost. I like that name. It suits you." "I'm glad to hear that, ma'am." - Simon didn't like it. The name reminded him of his old man way too much, connecting him to a troubled family tree, to the people who turned him into what he was. He wasn't willing to ruin the moment you shared, however. If you said his name's nice... It must've been. "And may I?" - You whispered, staring at his lips. Simon licked his lips expectedly, nodding to let you know it's fine, that he wants it too. He put his hand on your waist, holding you in place as he scooped you closer - you were puzzling himself into his arms as if you belonged there forever, being that one little silly puzzle piece he'd lost before he was born. Your knees wrapped around his waist as you palmed his t-shirt, steadying your position.

You were both taking your time, giggling excitedly, blissed with disbelief. Your breathing was tickling Simon's face, making Simon's smile widen. Your eyes closed as you positioned your elbow around his shoulders, your nails gently scratching his scalp. So close... He was so close. Your noses bumped together, warm skin dragging across each other, your breath finally stabilizing as you got ready for the final stretch. Simon could feel your lips brush against his... But the kiss didn't come. It never came, in fact. The moment Simon opened his eyes to deduce what was wrong, a snore cut through the comfortable silence in your apartment. At first, it shut Simon off. He was staring at you, holding his palms on your shoulder blades, playing with the ends of your hair - until he started laughing quietly.

He wasn't upset, God forbid angry with you. You were trolled, in the end, drinking way more than you should - he half expected to be holding your hair for you by this point of the night. Even though you hadn't really touched the first base, this night turned into everything Simon wished for. This was just his luck - the lady holding his heart in a headlock dozing off before anything happened. "She's knackered." - Simon whispered towards Bonnie lying on the ground. The cutesy dog had no idea what he was saying, but she was excited enough to nuzzle and nibble on his ankle. - "I know, sweet girl, I know. Let me put mommy to bed, and then we'll set out for a walkie, yeah?" - The man ushered as he started folding you into his arms bridal style. Upon the word 'walkie', Bonnie growled and whimpered excitedly, almost wiggling her tail off. - "Hush, you little furry beast."

The duo spent half an hour walking outside on a cold night, Simon taking his bloody time smoking a few cigarettes to calm down. Bonnie was doing her own thing, carrying various sticks to him so they could play fetch. As soon as the door to your flat opened and Bonnie's paws got cleaned, the dog sped into your bedroom, nuzzling to you - all you did in response was throw your hand over her, grunting displeasantly. Before leaving, Simon quickly put together a note.

'Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. Prepared some coffee and painkillers for you on the counter. Text me when you wake up. Love, - Simon'

[noxxiepoo]

hi! i saw your post about jimcurly and i'd like to say it's not for everyone, you're perfectly respectable if it makes you feel uncomfortable. it's certainly a very okay take to have! in that case, no one should ever make you feel bad for that. block the tag if it's what makes you feel better!

however, i think it might make you feel better about it to know that a lot of the people who ship it are very aware of the implications. i was concerned too, and it really exhausted me, but actively seeking out answers as to why they'd want to ship something like that really helped and i figured i'd share my perspective with you :)

i've noticed it very rarely comes with a softening of jim's abusive and predatory personality, and it's generally quite self-aware. they very much did play the same game, and it's just one of many ways they decided to look at the themes and interact with it under

i find it pretty unfounded to worry about these people ending up in toxic relationships of their own and being unable to get out of it: i've seen a lot of toxic pairings to actually be coping mechanisms to cope with older toxic relationships, and many of them come with a deep understanding of it. i get it as someone who has been in one!

if i'm being honest, i'm personally more alarmed by anyacurly that isn't self-aware than jimcurly that is, but honestly, i don't ship any of them because it's all kind of yuck to me.

either way, i think it's completely okay to be made uncomfortable by it. it's a heavy pairing, and i have the tag blocked so i don't see it. it's really their business imo i guess and taking that perspective made me feel a lot less upset about it :^)

(Cutting it here so it doesn't clog dashes!! Happy scrolling y'all)

Thank you!!! I really do appreciate this to no end. I know you won't get notifed when I post this but I do hope you find this. I appreciate the invitation for an actual conversation and wanting to shed light instead of uh the replies.

Im gonna be so real here, made that post at work, posted it, and uh here I am at home staring at my inbox (not including this ask dw!!) with slight confusion. And also being very real here, this isn't an apology post! I do apologize for not tagging it with a content warning, and being crass with my words, though you're gonna get that even if I'm speaking positively about something. Cussing is normal for me and I apologize if I came off as overly angry! I do want to reply to (and not being sarcastic at all here, I promise!! /gen) this anon who is being patient with me.

I do have the tag blocked, and I do feel better now. I'm a little less concerned knowing that people do see the implications and I'm really glad you mentioned it. I can't and won't speak on the coping mechanism aspect, I don't use it to cope and I've never been in a situation like this paring would cause. I will say however that yes, it is unfounded without context to be making broad statements like I did. I mean for those who take it very far. Farther than 90% of those who enjoy the pairing. I know the internet and I know it goes to insane lengths a great many times in the grand scheme outside of this Fandom.

You're 1000% right, I haven't really seen much anyacurly and haven't really gotten around to forming an opinion on it but it seems just as weird for me as this one. I think shipping in the game setting point blank, no aus or shifting of character is very.. off putting and to me depletes every purpose the game was trying to showcase.

And yes! Ship your blorbos I don't care, I don't like it, y'all love it apparently and I opened a can of worms that was unbeknownst to me outside my echo chamber. I made my post because I saw this amazingly worded one

And wanted to give my 3 cents on the topic, and obviously im not gonna repeat what they said in my own post. im not gonna steal someone's analysis.

And stepping away from the ask entirely right now:

this is sooo beyond me. I feel like I said I hate bakudeku and it's 2020. Also i think its funny that I also said jimmy can kill himself on the jimanya post, and im 1000% sure many others on here have said the same sediment. Honestly just block me man, I'm not entertaining anything on here, I have schoolwork and a job. I'm very happy to have a discussion though, like this!

[tragedy-of-commons]

Congratulations on getting 150 followers, that's amazing!

Since you wanted some requests, I have one for you. You should write something Qingque related. I think it would be fitting, considering your blog is themed after her and this would be a good way to celebrate this awesome milestone!

Do whatever you want to with it, I have no idea what kind of style/story it would be. Take your time with it, I know you're busy with other requests right now. Finish those up and let me see what your awesome writing skills can do with your icon!

Have a nice day!

crash course

qingque & gn!reader | wc: ~850

Your coworker teaches you to relax.

tags/warnings: platonic, i love qingque, overworked reader, mentioned fu xuan

notes: hi sam! tysm for the request and kind words! your support means everything & i can't believe i hit 150. i hope you like what i decided to do with this! ^_^

“…and that's how you slack off!” Qingque punches your shoulder, mouth full of god-knows-what-kebab. (You’re scared to ask, actually, given that she has a preference for her food to be fried beyond recognition.)

“You know, I don't think I needed your crash course on the subject. It's pretty self-explanatory,” you point out. “Self-explanatory enough that I think Madam Diviner Fu Xuan is going to know exactly where we are and hunt us down.”

Spices Supreme houses the two of you perfectly, home to various colorful characters on their lunch hours, rushing their meals as if they don’t have all the time in their lives (well, for Natives, you suppose). Letting her drag you away from your post at the Matrix of Prescience an hour before your mandated break was a bad idea, and you can’t stop looking over your shoulder like a scared dog.

“Xuany? You worry too much,” she dismisses easily. “She’s let me off with nothing more than a few threats of termination. Not to mention, you’re her favorite! Just blame me if she finds us.”

“Yeah, I definitely will,” you deadpan, “considering it is your fault.”

Qingque puts down her stick and covers her ears obnoxiously. “Lalalalala, that is not what I want to hear from you! You’re learning to relax, remember?” To make her point clearer, she leans forward and pinches your cheek, ignoring the aggrieved squeak you let out. “I used to be like this too, you know, clogged pores, dark circles, miserable—”

“Hey!”

“—but then I learned to let go and live for myself,” she says, pride suffocatingly apparent. She doesn’t even react when you swat her grubby little hand away. “So, you definitely did need the crash course.”

Her smug smile is unbearable-but-loveable all the same. When you first started working at the Divination Commission, your wiser coworkers advised you to steer clear of Qingque, Slacker Extraordinaire. It seems like fate had other plans, considering she stuck to you like a magnet, slowly spoon-feeding you her philosophy since day one. 

However, what surprises you more is her little anecdote; had she really been a diligent overachiever like you at some point? Was something like that even possible? The look in her eyes right now makes you want to believe her, and the sparkle in them earlier today is what convinced you to shirk even the tiniest bit of responsibility. Perhaps she cares more than she lets on.

“Fine,” you acquiesce. “I’ll ‘let go’. What else is there to it? Is there some kind of initiation that I don’t know about?” you pick at your food, appetite subdued due to your still-firing nerves. 

Qingque gingerly takes your hands, solemn and foreign. “I’m delighted you’d ask… it’s… it’s…”

She leaves one of your hands cold and roots around in her pocket awkwardly, maintaining intense eye contact with you like the world is about to end as you know it. You take it all back - this girl is strange. When she finally procures a Celestial Jade tile of all things, you groan inwardly.

“Celestial Jade? Really?” you hum, unimpressed. “Wow, I never would have guessed! It’s almost like you just dragged me out here to indoctrinate me and then force me to be your game partner.”

She huffs, bottom lip jutting out into a pout. “I know what this looks like, but hear me out! As much as I’d love for you to play a game or two with me—that’s not what I meant. For me, Celestial Jade is a big part of ‘letting go’. It’s probably my favorite thing ever - what I put all of my heart into. You need to find your Celestial Jade.”

Qingque presses the tile into your palm. Five multicolored hearts take up the expanse of the brick, other details emerging such as its scuffed corners and its chipped paint; it is well-worn and likely seen hundreds of victories. While you stare, she continues to talk, familiar stars in the green-yellow of her irises.

“You work hard, and that’s cool. But I don’t think it’s making you happy… I thought bringing you out here today would be fun. I want everybody to have fun,” she laughs. “Also, I do want you to be my game partner, hehe.”

Yeah. She’s strange… and also totally right. You close your fingers over the tile, thumb caressing the surface pensively. Most adults let their jobs consume them, including you; the way you put all of your energy into going above and beyond for something that drains you was never your goal in life. It just kind of happened. You do need something - or someone - fun right now.

“Qingque… I think I’m starting to get it.”

“Aha! I knew you would!” she points at you like one would an endangered species, “Now, you shall face my wrath in tile mania!”

(You do end up facing off against her, but not before Fu Xuan drags you both back to the Divination Commission with smoke coming out of her ears in whorls. As Qingque takes the fall for you with a wink and a poor excuse, you thumb against the tile now resting in your breast pocket.)

Maybe your strange friend can be your Celestial Jade.

[austinmaris18]

Personal Thoughts on Yona (No Bashing)

I'm gonna be honest, I hate shipping discourse because at the end of the day, characters aren't real and muting tags, posts, accounts are a thing. I also don't want to clog the Sidlink tag with discourse bc it's bad enough on twitter. However, if there's one thing I've learned about myself, it's that when something's bothering me, I need to talk about it, if only to process it. So, apologies but here I go. I will say that I feel like this is a nuanced take, so I guess if you're interested in that feel free to read. Disclaimer before I go in: there will be absolutely no Yona bashing. This post isn't to bash or attack Yona, anyone who enjoys Yona individually or paired with Sidon. I don't necessarily dislike her as a character, I'm more annoyed at the writing surrounding her introduction.

I've been thinking a lot, and I think the reason that Yona's introduction bothers me so much is because it mirrors (more than likely unintentionally) a pretty annoying heteronormative trope. In Jeffrey Brown's book Love, Sex, Gender, and Superheroes (an amazing analytical book in general, would highly recommend) they note that following the publication of Seduction of the Innocent in 1954 - which claimed amongst other things that Batman and Robin were a couple - there was a sort of moral panic about comic books. This was also during the era of McCarthyism, and so to avoid Senate action, the comic industry created the Comics Code Authority, which partly ensured that "illicit relationships" weren't hinted at, and in 1956 Kate Kane as Batwoman was introduced to be a love interest for Batman to reinforce his heterosexuality.

Now, am I comparing Sidlink to the supposed queer subtext of Batman and Robin in 40s and 50s comics? No. Am I saying that Nintendo purposefully introduced Yona for the same purpose as DC did Batwoman? Not necessarily. I just think it's almost comical how similar the situation feels, and the writing doesn't help either. Now, Yona is apparently Sidon's "dear childhood friend" and is also from a different kingdom. That in and of itself feels so awkward because again, we've had Breath of the Wild and Age of Calamity AND their respective DLCs, and not once have gotten mention of Yona or her kingdom. Not in a throwaway line from an NPC, not in the murals of Zora's Domain, not in Mipha's diary. (Also, I know that technically, Age of Calamity isn't canon. But it still had input from the Zelda team, and it provides a supposedly canon view of the settlements in Hyrule before the Calamity.) Especially considering the fact that we get confirmation from Sidon's mural and King Dorephan's dialogue that the engagement to Yona is political/arranged, this engagement was not really foreshadowed in any meaningful way other than this sort of heteronormative notion of "He's a prince so he'll have to get married at some point." Like, Sidon had a whole fanclub in BotW, and not one of them knew?? Did the engagement happen in the six/seven years between BotW and ToTK? Again, for a race of long lived beings like the Zora, that feels a bit hard to believe.

This in particular is what makes her introduction so jarring. We've seen all the countless Twitch and YouTube streamers reacting, the TikToks, the tweets and Tumblr posts of people shocked and disappointed. Here's where I point back to the fact that Aonuma and Fujibayashi even addressed the fact that Sidon was so popular during the BotW DLC Dev Talk. That's not to say they were aware of the ship or even cared enough to have taken the action of mitigating any potential queer readings. Other than reactions to the gameplay and the overall story, I don't think Nintendo particularly cares what we do, think, or ship. But they did know that Sidon in particular was a standout popular character, and so it seems so strange to not pair him off in a more well written way.

That's before even mentioning the whole Zora mural where Sidon parallels his relationship with Yona to that of Mipha, literally calling her a sister. There's also no getting around the fact that he uses that phrasing as in Spanish, French, and the original Japanese (those are the languages I read, so that's what I'm referencing) so it's not an English localization quirk. And I know there's the line about his feelings become more "difficult to quantify" but again, why? Why not just say he admired her instead of comparing her to Mipha in that way if they want to show us there was something there even in their childhood? I know it's meant to be sweet and to depict a sort of growth of feelings between them, but it reads strangely.

So we have these aspects and then we compare this to Sidon's interactions with Link this game. (Also before that, I want to acknowledge something: the vast majority of us who ship Sidlink or just enjoyed Sidon's character were never under the illusion that Nintendo would go towards any canonical romance between Sidon and Link.) We arrive to Zora's Domain to find a statue of us riding Sidon from the Vah Ruta battle. There is a whole Hylian bedroom constructed near the area where Sidon and Link fought Vah Ruta (more built out than the bed area Mipha used). The whole "Link Shrine" Sidon has singing his praises. Sidon literally getting down on one knee, taking OUR HAND in both his hands before presenting us the ring (I know that the other champions say the same oath and give us rings, it's the imagery of a proposal that I'm referring to). Link standing equally distant to Sidon as Yona during Sidon's crowning. Yona telling us that when Sidon speaks it's more than likely to talk about Link. Already Yona's introduction so funnily parallels heteronormative tropes, but to actually have so much imagery and subtext for Sidon and Link makes it feel even more crazy? I think this is where people get so hung up on the idea that "Yona was just introduced to get in the way of Sidlink." Honestly, I think the interactions with Link are more probably concessions for fans (not necessarily shippers) because again, the devs know how popular Sidon is. But it compounds with the manner in which Yona is written into the game.

All that being said, I don't necessarily have a neat conclusion to draw from these thoughts, but going back to the Batwoman parallels, I do think it's a shame Yona won't have to chance to canonically develop further the way Batwoman did. After all, despite her original introduction, most people nowadays think Batwoman and think of Kate Kane, the redhead badass lesbian superhero. But that happened over the course of decades in a medium that iterates narratively on the same characters over and over. Even if we get a story DLC for ToTK that has more Yona content, I don't know that it would be enough to smooth over how awkward her introduction was, and it's hard to believe Nintendo would make another direct sequel or carry over Sidon and Yona to the next version of Zelda. But we can already see Yona's iterative growth through fandom!

Now listen. I know myself, and the truth is I'm never going to actively ship Sidon and Yona. But I'm sure there are amazing artists and writers out there who will flesh Yona and her relationship and history with Sidon out (whether that includes Link in a polycule or not). I'm glad that the game has made the interpretation of a lavender marriage between Sidon and Yona who have their respective paramours possible (with the politically arranged aspect of the marriage, Sidon's boisterous actions concerning Link, Yona's acknowledgement of Link's importance to Sidon). I'm looking forward to fics, standalone art and comics that take that route. I'm sure that there will continue to be art and fanfiction that don't acknowledge ToTK or Yona, and I will surely be consuming those as well. I really hope the homophobia and general discourse towards Sidlink subsides, because it's been surprisingly overwhelming on Twitter. I also hope that there aren't people actively attacking posts about Yona. After all, muting and blocking words, tags, and accounts are options across all social media platforms.

This post will definitely be a one off for me, and I don't ever see myself making another post like this again. I honestly might also delete this post in the future now that I've properly written out my thoughts. Anyways, time to get back to drawing practice and working on my fics.

[jellobubblelol]

Alright, so, since y'all saw 'jashverse with extra lore' and clicked vote, here's the silly lil rundown of what i call Jash Junction. (Below the read more bc I am not gonna try and clog the dang tag)

So, rather than things taking place in a party, the JJ takes place in a place simply known as The Junction - a kind of multiversal bubble connecting many different universes together. The basic map of everything goes something like this:

Each Jash can go between their respective universe and The Junction fairly easily, some doing it with almost no effort at all, but visiting other universes or bringing other people outside their universe is more of a struggle.

Despite this, there are still ways to yoink someone into The Junction, such as the image below.

No faceless top-hat wearing figures were harmed in the making of the above diagram.

No one really knows why the Junction exists, let alone why it only allows certain people in freely or even how it functions as a dimension, but most of its visitors don't really care much.

Other than that, JJ has a few other differences from Jashverse (mostly just different character designs and FiF/20XX just being one entity called Stopgap). I only bring this up because I wanted to mention the Stopgap thing lol.

Anyways uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I don't really have many other notes for this, I just thought of this a few days ago n all, but I might ramble about one of the other AUs later.

[that-starry-freak]

Okay, wow. Uhm.. I'm honestly kind of tired of all the fandom discourse. So i- I want to talk about it.

 This is honestly about to be really personal. So CW for mentions of hypersexuality and grooming(that ones at the very end), as well as mentions of harassment and aphobia. I also vaguing a bit, but its not too explicit (I do name 2 people at some point but im defending them and talking about how they dont deserve to be harassed, so-) and I'm not talking negatively about anyone!

Also please ignore my terrible grammar/spelling. This is kind of just me ranting and in no way is meant to be an actual well written essay or anything

Okay- so- god I was writing this all in my head but now I'm trying to type this out im coming up short

Okay, lets try this- there's no way to really neatly and perfectly segway into what I want to talk about, but I'll try my best

I just really want to talk about the harassment that's been going on in the fandom. Because its really just.. frustrating.

First is the allegations of aphobia.

Yes, aroace people can be aphobic! But can we please learn the difference between projecting and aphobia. 

There are aroace people in this fandom seeing Moon and Nexus and deciding to make them not sex repulsed because they arnt. Ive seen people get called aphobic for making them demiaroace, or aceflux, or just non-repulsed aroace. And I've seen people make fics of awful acts, "correcting" their asexuality, and being purposely tagged wrong.

Which one of these is actual aphobia, hm?

Should have started with this but, yknow, it's too late for that now- ehem, 

Hi! I'm Astro, a aceflux lesbian who struggles with hypersexuality. I, personally, am actually really uncomfortable with people making Moon not aroace and shipping him, even in aus. Im uncomfortable with them even making him not repulsed most of the time. What do I do though? I dont harass people. I just don't interact with the content!

And I have no problem with people making Nexus not repulsed/aroace. Why?? Because canonical hes confused and unsure about if he's aroace or not! And I know a lot of people on the ace and aro spectrum(s), including me, can relate to that feeling. The unsureness of if you are, and even if you know you are, not knowing where you are in the spectrum. I personally love making Nexus somewhere along the lines of demi or gray, because that would add more representation! Especially with Old Moon back now, we have our repulsed rep. That doesn't mean they can't both be repulsed! I'm just saying that having another character be another side of the spectrum (whether its non-repulsed aroace, demiaroace, demiaro and alloace, etc.) Would be nice. 

Personally, I've been tempted to make an au where Nexus started experimenting with sex and it starts clogging his mind. Because I enjoy his character, and I want to project my own experiences onto his character. There's nothing wrong with it?? Self inserting into canon characters is a tale as old as time, just as old as ocs.

There is literally nothing wrong with wanting to have more representation or have a character that represents you. That isn't ace or aro phobic- i don't get how people don't understand that. I know multiple aroace people who like dating, or who are dating. I also know aroace people who just like qprs and can't stand dating. I know aroace people who have been confused and have fluctuated with their sexuality as I've known them, trying to figure themselves out. There are different types, and people want to see themselves in a character that is similar to them. Whats wrong with that?

Now, I am not defending the people who constantly are like "well aroace people can date too", completely ignoring the fact that some are repulsed. I'm not defending the people that say that whenever you mention that a character doesn't like to date because they're repulsed. I've seen it happened to people who literally have aus and are talking about their versions if the character and how they never want to date, and people say that. It's fucking annoying. And ya, pretty aphobic.

But non-repulsed aroace people saying that about their own au versions of characters isn't the same thing. Defending their headcanons of a character because it helps them better connect to it isn't the same thing- im like, so confused about how we don't understand this already??

Another this is- and I can't believe I have to say this -can we NOT fucking harass people??? Like holy shit why do I have to say this?

Yes, this includes people who support terrible things. This includes people who just don't like the same things as you. Yes, this includes people that don't like you.

Because, fun fact, that just makes the situation worse. Someone saying something bad about somebody, and then a bunch of people swarming them and telling them their wrong, isn't going to change their mind. It'll actually just make them have an even more negative view of the person.

Now, spreading awareness about a person who is actively harassing people is different. But that also doesn't mean you should see that awareness and go harass that person. Again, its going to make it worse.

Instead, report. Block. Do whatever you can to keep yourself and others safe. Please don't harass people though. Please.

And yes holy shit this includes if they ship things you don't like! Holy fuck why do I even have to say this- if you disagree with someone, block them. Don't fucking spread rumors. You fucking people keep complaining about all the discourse and then attack shippers. What the fuck?? Stop it. The ones you are attacking don't even do shit, they're just chilling. Some people Eccpecially!! I feel bad about mentioning directly, but people like @/kuuchaos and @/zthesheep (not tagging because I don want to bother them and also im a coward. Wishing them all the support in the world tho) haven't even done anything! They're just getting harassed because they're associated with people these harassers don't like.

Hell, i- who has barely done anything but support people -am terrified of getting harassed. Because I'm associated with these "big blogs", I'm at risk of being harassed. Its ruining my mental health, which was just finally getting better- its frustrating. I literally had to take a break from tumblr because I was so anxious, and I felt sick to my stomach and was shaking a bit. I just want to make friends and have fun and post art, but I'm scared of being yelled at literally becuas elf people who I associate myself with.

I know im at risk just because I'm mutuals with two of these blogs. Just because I post and reblog ship things, and reblog things from these "big blogs". Im- augh. I luckily haven't been harassed, and have blocked the harasser in question, but that doesn't stop the crippling anxiety of the fact that i may be in the future. That's not okay. Its awful that this fandom is so fucked up that people who havnt even done shit are afraid of being harassed- or are actually being harassed!

Can I remind everybody that the VAs literally asked everyone not to harass each other and to just chill out? Sure, I'm all for death of the author, but thats not what that is. You can't just take canon and use it to harass people, but completely ignore the people who made that canon. That's fucked up. Either ignore canon all together, or listen to the VAs. Either you, you have no reason to harass people.

Anyway, I hope soon we can all be a lot nicer to each other. Seriously, I dont care about disagreeing with ships. I dont even think we should all be friends, im not a fucking elementary school teacher. But I think we should all at least be respectful to each other and not literally harass and send fucking gore to people. Eccpecially fuckimg CHILDREN like im sorry whos idea was that?? Those gore anons need to be put in prison because that is one of the most disgusting things I've heard in a fandom- and I've been in some pretty horrific fandoms (*cough*dsmp*cough*)

So uhm- yeah

Please dont harass me for speaking out against harassment, like seriously. I'm not promoting harassment or aphobia, or incest or anything. Especially grooming, considering i may have been groomed by one of my friends in 3rd grade??? Idk, the more you know-

Im also not inviting an argument. Please dont argue with me, please. Or even disagree with me in reblogs or comments or tag me or anything. It may seem childish, but I instinctively want to argue back and I just want to avoid that. Please.

But yeah, let's just be decent to each other pls. Use that nifty block button more, please and thank you <3

(THIS WAS NOT REREAD OR EDITED! plus I was having extreme pain at the end cause of cramps- and I was emotional and frustrated at the beginning. So this all may be a bit incoherent/rude, but im trying

Again, please don't harass me- especially over me talking about my hypersexuality and things- its hard for me and personally <3)

[lesferatu]

I have read a lot of Welcome to Tumblr posts for reddit people and I agree with most of it but something I haven't seen has to do with tag etiquette. I've seen people say "do whatever" and I don't completely agree with that specifically. What they should say is "there is no specific tag for each community, so don't worry too hard about it and if you want to talk in the tags, that is more than encouraged" but there are a few rules

So here's some tagging guidelines:

Only tag what is relevant to the post at hand. If you have specific tags for organization of your blog, then you can use those. If you tag irrelevant stuff, not only is it super annoying and clogs up the tag but you will be reported for spam and that can get you banned. So chat and keysmash all you want but don't tag something that's trending to get more attention and dont mention characters in the thing you are talking about who arent mentioned in the post. The search function barely works as is on a good day, don't make it worse

If you are unsure what to tag, search what you are posting about and look at what other people are tagging. Keep the above rule in mind. You can save your post as a draft if you are in the middle of writing and can't search

If I remember correctly, the first 5 tags count for the search feature and the first 10 tags (? Could be 15) count for filtering tags, which is important for tagging spoilers and triggers, if you do that

On that note: Tag Spoilers for new media

If you do chat (which again is greatly encouraged and is, in fact, half the fun) remember that the person you reblog from and the original poster (or OP) will get a notification and will be sent your tags, so be respectful. You *are* yelling into the void but some of the void can read

I wouldn't use "prev tags" right now, since staff broke the ability to follow reblog chains easily, so it's hard to find what you are referring to. If you must talk to the person you are reblogging from, do something like "prev tags: [insert prev tags here]" or "[insert prev tags here] <- prev tags" in your tags then say what your going to say

And just cause I know this has been a problem in the past, if you are here for minecraft youtubers/streamers, Do Not tag your posts as "minecraft" or "mineblr". That tag is for people who play the game normally to share their builds and the like. Again, you can search the specific youtubers/streamer/smp to get the tag that most people use for that specific community or use "mcyt" to find the general stuff

And last but not least, you do not have to tag! It is a personal choice. It'll get your own posts to the people who might like it, some people like to organize their blog (not me lol,) and tagging spoilers is just common decency, but reblogs dont show in the search, only the og post, and you don't have to tag if you don't want to; the people who follow you/look at your blog will see your post and nobody else

Edit cause I just remembered this one: don't main tag hate. If you hate a ship and want to post about it, don't tag the ship. At least tag it as "[ship name] hate" or "[ship name] discourse" so people who like that ship don't have to stumble across it on the main tag and can filter it. Doesn't have to be a ship, could be a show or a hobby or a book. People who enjoy a thing have just as much right to have a good experience on here as you have a right to hate that thing. Stay civil, it's the only way this place is as chill as it is now (and I say that as someone who's been here since the beginning. Whatever drama you find on here now is Nothing compared to what it was on this hellsite (affectionate) before)

If you can think of anything else, please add, and if you have any questions, just ask!