#only tagged this one bc i added my own thoughts about the show itself

[frapajapa]

i made a post on twitter about how I think some of the hatred towards Anthy from her peers may POSSIBLY. POSSIBLY stem from racism. and some European came crying in my mentions about how NOOO THE SHOW IS ONLY ABOUT PATRIARCHY AND MISOGYNY HOW CAN IT BE RACISM IF NOBODY SAYS MEAN THINGS TO AKIO??!?!?

they started getting pushback from other people so they blocked me but continued qrting my posts oh the cope is monumental

anyway uh I personally do believe some of the hatred Anthy faces from her peers DOES stem from racism like Wakaba reacts very strongly when Utena asks if Anthy is Saionji's girlfriend. "Saionji wouldn't be with a girl like that!"

Oh? and what kind of girl is a girl like that? I don't believe for a second that people automatically treat Anthy with disdain simply because she's quiet and keeps to herself. like I'm not out here saying the racism was handled well or even addressed (cough cough curry episode) but I think it's a very valid reading as a Bangladeshi Canadian and I question why it gets such volatile reactions from some fans.

(and about Akio. they say "how can this be racism when people treat Akio and Anthy differently and Akio is in a position of power over the whole school")

(well allow me to introduce you to the United States of America! they elected a black man once! and a blasian woman is currently running for president right now!! clearly this means they are good people and the United States is not a racist society in any way)

[h2bakugou]

hello! May I please have a Dabi x fem reader in the lov who likes to draw? I think she finds his scars and stuff to be a work of art in itself and is like (oh heck I gotta sketch this). He glances at what she’s drawing and she gets all flustered! Maybe he even takes his shirt off at one point which can lead to some other things~ (I like smut but if you think fluff fits the prompt better that’s alright with me!) Thank you and I love your writing!

a/n: hii! of course love! this is super sweet omg i love dabi, i feel like i dont capture his character very well but imma try like hell😩😩this is probably ooc for him but it’s sappy and i love it

summary: dabi’s hard to read, but that doesn’t stop you from sketching him. you find beauty in his flaws, entranced by his scars, so much so that dabi can’t help but be interested in you.

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: swearing, fluff, sappy romance bc i love this man, some spicy themes, one mention of a slight(possible? idrk what counts) manga spoiler (e.g. dabi’s past/history) (manga spoilers in tags!!)

wordcount: 2k

;cut due to suggestive themes;

»»————-　★　————-««

»»————-　★　————-««

It’s never been a really big secret that you liked drawing. But when it comes to working for the league, specifically, the League of Villains, your line of work doesn’t allow for very much downtime unless you’re in the midst of planning some sort of attack or rebellion.

Whether or not the league keeps hopping from rendezvous spot to rendezvous spot isn’t up to you, but you never fail to get a little used to the eerily calming silence that falls upon the league during the first twenty-four hours of the new four walls that seem to keep you safe for the time being.

With a barely sharpened pencil in your hand, a small drawing pad in the other, you’re staring at Dabi as you sketch him.

It started as a bit of a joke, maybe just teasing him since he liked to tease you about being into him since you were the only one he was really super close, if you could call being the first one he spoke to every time he saw you or the one you sought out to be paired up with during missions, ‘super close.’

But now, it was something you enjoyed.

Dabi was one among the very interesting members of the league. Something about his scars just seemed to entrance you. Pulling you in further and further down a rabbit hole of questions that you had but never let leave past your lips.

It felt wrong to ask, not that it was a bad thing to be curious, but because Dabi was just so mysterious. No one knew anything about him, or about who he was, his past, even his real name was a mystery. 

It felt wrong to disturb the unnerving peace that was Dabi. The resting expression on his features balancing on a thin cable between anger and poor personal resilience.

Dabi’s scars were the highlight of your sketches, always standing out. What the others may have thought to be ugly, or unattractive, you thought were beautiful, and emotional.

There was a story behind them, one you wanted to know, one you wanted to uncover and read, page by page, line by line, and word for word, discovering just how truly deep Dabi’s past was. But only Dabi could show you that, only Dabi could open that book for you. And you were willing to wait. You’d wait an eternity if you had too.

His rough raven hair is messy and strewn about as you scribble down his facial features, the groggy lighting making it just a tad difficult to see as you lead the pencil over the warm white paper littered with graphite covered fingerprints.

His arms are positioned on a counter, the art work resembling how he was sitting sloped against the kitchen table, elbows pressed against the dark mahogany wood, hands resting by his mouth as his cerulean eyes peer off at the cracked cement wall in front of him, occasionally glancing back at you.

The other members of the league were scattered about but it didn’t bother you. Toga asked you a couple of questions, wondering what you were doing, if you were excited about the new plans and such.

You replied quietly as to not disturb the peace.

But soon some of the members left, going off to go eat or find something to do. And soon you were among the few left behind, along with Dabi, Shigaraki and Mr. Compress.

Having almost finally finished your current sketch, you were stopped by a pair of hands picking up your drawing pad. Rough and calloused fingers drew your pad away and your attention away.

“Hey I’m not finished.” You glanced up at Dabi. Dabi just admired the talent poured into the sketch. Dabi couldn’t wrap his head around why you drew him so often, but he didn’t mind. It was kind of touching in a way.

“Is that really what I look like?” Dabi joked, handing you back your sketch pad.

“You have looked in a mirror once before, right?” You titled your head to the side, adding a bit more detail to his scars as you began to draw again. 

“A few times. But I’d rather look at you, doll.” Dabi’s hands reached down again, this time pulling at your hands. Leading you out of the room where the other two members sat, finding a way to entertain themselves, Dabi lead you up some stairs in questionable condition.

Picking a random room, he sat down on the rickety bed and waited for you to sit down.

“Why’s that?” You tease, returning to drawing, looking up at him every few seconds to reference. And to admire him.

“You’re easy on the eyes, beautiful and-”

“Are you saying you’re not beautiful, Dabi?” You stopped him, not pausing to look at him.

“I’m not beautiful, I’m gorgeous.” Dabi chuckled, shaking his head jokingly as he laid back against the bed, his head dangling off the opposite end.

“You are.” You confirm. Finally finishing up your sketch. You get up and walk over to him, handing him the finished sketch. 

“You add so much detail to my scars. They’re just scars.” The tips of Dabi’s ears flush as heat floods to his face. He’s flustered but he won’t admit it. He can’t understand why you think he’s so beautiful.

You don’t speak. For the first time, you’re speechless. You sit down beside Dabi, and now that he’s sitting up, he faces you.

You reach your hands out and gently lift one of his arms, holding one of his hands in your own. You run your fingers across the scarred flesh, gently caressing his skin. 

His hands are cold compared to your warm fingers. He’s getting chills all down his spine as you touch him. It’s not meant to be anything out of the ordinary, but he’s still shocked that he’s letting you touch him.

“Your scars are beautiful. I’m sure there’s a story, something about them that might make you hate them, but I love them, and I think they make you that much more beautiful. You are a masterpiece, every scar a carefully calculated brushstroke on a beautiful canvas.” Your words finally come out, overflowing with love. You can’t sit quietly anymore.

“Dabi you are beautiful.” Your eyes lock with his, and you can tell he’s unsure of what to do. 

Dabi no longer felt he had the ability to cry, but if he’d let himself, he would’ve done it in that moment. Being so open and vulnerable around you just happened. It came too easily, and he hated it, but he loved you.

Pulling his arm away form your warm touch, he tossed his jacket off and to the side before tearing his shirt away from his body, allowing you to see his chest, and more of his scar covered skin.

Sitting quietly with a faint blush on your cheeks, you couldn’t look away. trying to avoid staring directly at his toned chest and his nipples, you raised your hand and allowed your fingers to sink down across his sternum.

Soon your fingers were met with his abs, which the heat on your face noticed far too well. 

“Say it again.” Dabi mumbled. You lifted your head to look into his eyes again, your hand still resting against his chest.

“You are beautiful-” The moment the words left your lips, Dabi’s own lips were pressed against yours. Kissing you roughly, more than he intended too, his hands mangled into yours, pushing your arms over your head.

His heart was pounding and it felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest onto yours. Pulling away for a few seconds, Dabi’s hair covered his eyes as he looked down, finding interest in the collar of your shirt.

“I want you.” Dabi’s words were simple, but they didn’t have to be complex. You knew what he meant, and you knew what he wanted. You wanted it too. A chance to see him in a different light, with deeper meaning.

A chance to connect with him, one on one. 

“Then take me.” Your fingers intertwined with his, your arms still resting above your head. It didn’t take long for his lips to magnetize back to yours, sticking to them like glue.

When Dabi thought about sex, he didn’t come anywhere close to making love. There wasn’t that sort of option when it came to him. He didn’t think he was at all capable of love, let alone a relationship that was going to have any sort of emotional connection strong enough to make him feel stable.

But you, you were so vastly different from anyone he’d ever fucked. So different from an excuse to get his dick wet, to get his mind off of league business or heaven forbid, his past.

But you, you were what he needed, what he wanted. It was far from therapy, but it’d work. Having you around was like a drug, addicting, and he’d be going through withdrawals if he couldn’t have you.

Feeling you, touching you, fucking you, kissing you, it was fuel to his fire. He was damaged goods, broken and shattered, impossible to put together, but you were doing your best, working on the smallest parts, exercising precautions, and opening your heart to him.

Hearing his name in the form of your moans as he rutted into you, your legs wrapped tightly around his hips drove him wild, much like the way your hands tangled into his hair, forcing his head into your chest where he kissed and sucked on your skin, leaving marks.

Your moans and his own grunts of pleasure were spewing from the locked room. Dabi didn’t care if the others heard, he was enjoying the moment.

Every part of it. Every part of you, every part of your body, your words, your love. And before he knew, Dabi was at his highest, his face flush against your naked chest, breathing heavily as he inhaled your scent.

Still inside you, he didn’t move, allowing the two of you to catch your breath. It was in this moment, if Dabi allowed himself to cry, he would’ve cried a second time. He was so infatuated with you, so attached.

“I love you.” Your words scared him, causing his cerulean eyes to peak at you through locks of his noir hair.

“That’s stupid.” Dabi kissed your sternum, kissing up your chest, stopping at your neck to leave a little mark, only to meet at your lips in the end.

“How?” You ask softly, your hands massaging his scalp as his lips hover over yours.

“I can’t explain it, it just is.” Dabi frowned, trying to understand what your eyes were saying as they clouded with emotion.

“Love is complex, and I think that maybe you’ve never really had good experiences with it. If you’d let me, I could show you just how beautiful it can be.” You offer, a small smile on your lips.

“If you feel the need-”

“I do. I love you, and I want you to know love.” You kissed his forehead. Dabi eventually pulled out, not minding the mess, he’d clean up later. 

“I want you to know why I love you.” You whispered, hugging him closer to you.

“Why I love your scars, your hands, your strength, the rasp in your voice, all of it. I love.” Dabi’s arms are strung over your waist as he lays, face nuzzled in your neck. It’s a bit of a stretch for him, and he feels out of place, but it’s oddly comfortable.

The next couple of times you draw Dabi, you ask to see him shirtless again. And with every new sketch, there’s something new to be learned, for Dabi. He’s learning about love, and loving you. 

He finds that you still draw him incredibly cute, and though he won’t admit it, he loves when you draw him. He’ll pose for you if you ever ask, and you always tease him a little about how it was like he was born to be a model.

It’s a long road ahead of you, but it’s one you’re willing to take, to show Dabi just how important love is.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

[flammenkobold]

I posted 6.268 times in 2021

142 posts created (2%)

6126 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 43.1 posts.

I added 5.598 tags in 2021

#loki series - 1156 posts

#sylki - 682 posts

#sylvie - 584 posts

#loki - 550 posts

#rqg - 527 posts

#rq gaming - 527 posts

#rusty quill gaming - 526 posts

#critical role 2 - 402 posts

#the magnus archives - 344 posts

#doctor who - 300 posts

Longest Tag: 114 characters

#also fuck if not for queer than what to i use to describe my identity if i don't want to get into the fine details

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

cobra kai has many savage moments but i have to admit the most savage one to me is still when miguel just straight up comes for robby’s daddy issues during the school fight

308 notes • Posted 2021-01-16 18:16:41 GMT

#4

A thought because both Luke and Din are from backwater planets at the end of the universe:

Luke gets pestered about taking down the first Death Star and ends up going “eh wasn’t that much harder than shooting womp rats” and everyone else is just “Wut?”

Din Djarin who knows exactly how hard these pests are to shoot from a speeder just looks at him in awe while Luke keeps going “What like it’s hard?” like he is the Elle Woods of womp rat and Death Star shooting. Suffice to say Din Djarin grows hearteyes under his armor and also an unfortunate boner.

334 notes • Posted 2021-01-03 12:28:22 GMT

#3

So on the whole transcription thing....I know accessibility is important, but from what I’ve seen all transcripts for SF and MAG are available now. This leaves an unscripted show with over 200 hours of runtime and lots of crosstalk, as the only one without transcripts.

Now lets break this down:

- 200 hours of runtime for main campaign only

- Transcribing 1 minute of content takes about 5 minutes give or take (considering both how experienced the transcriber is and how much crosstalk there is)

- minimum of transcribing time of 60.000 minutes of content.

So we end up with a minimum of 125 work days. That is not including any other work that needs to go into the process, like editing and preparation and formatting and proof-reading, etc.

Now one of the cheapest transcription services I found takes $0.80 per minute. So now we are spittballing about $48k. Again this is only taking into account the current main campaign and only the bare bone transcription work.

There are other ways to go about it but an estimate of over 100 work days remains that need to be paid for. So yes the transcripts are going slowly. They will remain going slowly by the sheer amount of work and money that has to go into creating them. And to be entirely honest? As much as I appreciate RQ making that effort - and they said they will make that effort - I’d rather that money go into paying their employees, their workplace itself remains as accessible as possible and ensuring the scripted shows have transcripts. And the companies I will hold more accountable for making their content more accessible are companies like amazon, netflix, big production studios, etc.

378 notes • Posted 2021-06-21 16:46:57 GMT

#2

Imagine you never had any signifcant job training or degree in anything because you ran away from home at the age of 18 after an accident that you somehow feel responsible for and that killed your brother, you join the navy, nearly drown, become a pirate, join a cult that drowns people - all by accident - and because no one probably wants to hire you because you have zero experiences and are also technically deserting the military you decide to open up your own mercenary business.

On the first day one of the guys you hired turns out to be no good, another guy in a golden tank armor that irritates you joins up and you don’t really have a choice bc who else can you hire and at least he can hit things, then his university  buddy joins up as well, and you accidentally pick up a stray pickpocket from other london.

Suddenly you are surrounded by

a) some guy that is under the impression you are some kind of authority figure but he resents you for it and also needs someone to act as a moral compass because he clearly has none of his own, when you’d rather just drown people for being annoying b) a twink with severe daddy issues that is in severe need of a positive role model and who is looking to you for that when clearly you never had your shit together c) a woman who looks to you for advice in regards on how to not be a criminal when you technically still are one

also you are only (comparatively) 30 years old and have no clue what you are doing.

Your name is Zolf Smith and this is Rusty Quill Gaming

408 notes • Posted 2021-01-24 00:49:46 GMT

#1

Please tell me someone has drawn this meme, I need it in my life

515 notes • Posted 2021-07-08 18:33:10 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[aquaticalay]

I Know You Forever (Din Djarin x Reader)

Summary : Din thinks you deserve better. You ask him why.

Warning : mentions of blood, is fluff a warning?

Word count : 1.4k

Note : I found out that the Mando'a equivalent to 'I love you' is 'I Know You Forever' when directly translated. And I think it's beautiful. I literally spent a lot of time looking at Mando'a phrases for prompts 

Also, it's good to be posting here again! I decided to write a bunch of one shots before committing to a series again:)

I've reuploaded this bcs it didn't show in the tags

"You don't deserve this," Din whispered under his breath. The words were so weak from exhaustion, it was almost impossible to make out. Not to mention the distorted layer the modulator added to them.

"What do you mean?" You hummed, and it made Din somewhat furious. He did not need a mirror to tell that his face was fuming red. He wasn't angry, though. He was frustrated. How could you not see yourself the way he did? How dare you think you deserve a life of violence, when you could settle down and spend your days safe and sound? 

You were sat on the floor of the Razor Crest after a rather violent encounter with a band of pirates, stitching a cut on your bicep. There were no bacta left, so good ol' needle and thread would have to do. The wound had been gushing with blood just moments earlier, but a piece of bundled cloth and pressure did wonders to stop the bleeding. 

"You deserve better," he said, leaning on the stairs that lead to the cockpit, arms crossed across his chest. You could tell by the way his voice was briefly cut short by his own shallow breath that he was struggling to keep his own voice monotonous— that there was far deeper meaning behind the seemingly emotionless sentence.

"Do I?"

Fuck. You. 

Din hated this. He hated the way you toyed with your words. He hated that you were able to force him out of his shell, to coax his intentions and strip layers down, piece by piece, until it was bare to the very core. He hated that you always knew how to get around his secrecy.

He hated that he had a strong desire churning in his gut to open himself up to you.

Whether it was your fault or his, he did not know.

"You do," he managed to say through gritted teeth. The child was asleep in his bunk, so he did not have an excuse to get out of this conversation, like he sometimes did when things got too... intense.

"What—" you winced, cutting the final thread,— "What makes you think I deserve better, but you don't?" 

Gently, you cleaned up the excess blood and tidied the medpac. Your bruised fingers danced on the box so graciously. On their own, no one would've thought the destruction they could bring. But if they saw who those hands belonged to— if they saw you— suddenly the cuts and the discolored patches of skin from the wounds along your revealed skin made sense. Suddenly they were able to link the precision of your hands to the ferocity behind your eyes.

Unlike him, you don't hide under beskar. Your battle scars were on display as if you were proudly showing the universe how much you can take— how much you've been through.

They were like spoils of war. They told your story. Unlike Din, who would rather keep every single story he had buried deep within his heart a secret.

Din stayed quiet. He didn't really know how to answer your question. You've been in the game for as long as he has. You chose this life, like him. 

"I don't... know," he managed to say. 

But he knew. He always knew why.

He loved you. That was something that took a long time for him to come to terms with, but he finally did.

The truth is, you didn't necessarily deserve a better life than him. He just wants you to have a better life.

One of these days, you'll get hurt. It happens to everyone he has ever worked with; it was a pattern he simply could not ignore anymore. And if you go where he can't follow... he can't possibly live with himself.

"Then quit saying that, tin man," You chuckled wholeheartedly, "I'm a big girl. I can make my own decisions."

You grabbed a metal railing and pulled yourself up, only to get light headed and stumble across the floor.

You cursed under your breath. You should have expected that. You had lost a lot of blood, after all.

"Whoa," Din managed to catch you before you fell, holding your waist steady, "Easy." 

"Stupid blood loss," you managed to crack a smile. Looking into his dark T-visor, you could only imagine he was smiling with you.

Even if he was, you doubt he'd ever tell.

"You need to rest," he said softly, his thumb circling ever so slightly against your waist. You held on to his shoulder and pushed yourself away, balancing yourself to stand up on your own.

"I will."

"Now," he said sternly.

You looked straight into where his eyes would be behind the helmet. He looked so... cold. All the damn time. If it weren't for the little things— like how his body would relax when you'd place your hand on his shoulder, or how he had held you up just now, you wouldn't assume he was organic underneath.

"What?" Din asked, confused. He caught you staring.

"Nothing," you slumped back down to the floor, taking his advice on resting. "You're just— you seem cold," you blurted your thoughts out.

"I'm not," Din said, a little too defensively. His voice cracked at the thought that the only person he ever loved perceived him as heartless. 

You gave him a lopsided grin. "You're not," you agreed, "You just seem like it. If you were, you wouldn't have taken the child under your care—" you paused, trying to find the words to say next, "—If you were, you wouldn't have thought I deserved better."

But you do, Din wanted to say, you deserve the stars and moons, you deserve the universe, but you settled for this... life.

Why would any one in the right mind do that?

But he decided to keep his words to himself this time.

You watch as the quiet man slowly sat down across from you. He might not admit that he was exhausted, but you saw that he didn't hold himself as rigidly as he normally would.

He was just as tired as you were, minus the blood loss.

"I care about you," you admitted shyly, "I really do. And if I deserve anything, I deserve a lifetime of fighting by your side. I want a lifetime of fighting by your side."

Din froze. This wasn't the first you had left him speechless. 

"Din?" You called, trying to get a response out of him. His name rolled off your tongue like syrup, and it was only more meaningful because you only ever addressed him by his birth name in private.

"It would be my honor," Din finally said, "To fight by your side for the rest of my life."

Din had no fear of death. Part of being a Mandalorian is having a resolute acceptance of death. He knew that death was a matter of how and not if, so it made sense to him to be more concerned about dying a warrior's death than death itself. He was fully aware that all things age, all things die. Everything that was formed by the universe becomes one with it again, someway, somehow.

But you make him want to cling to life a little longer. 

"Din?" You called out again.

"Yes?"

"I know you forever," you hummed sincerely, leaning forward and mindlessly tracing your fingers on the cheek of his helmet.

And Din swore his heart skipped a beat.

He knew you had bought a Mando'a to Galactic Basic dictionary that included common phrases at a junkyard as a joke, and he knew you started reading it in your spare time. He assumed you were just bored. He didn't expect...

Unable to read Din's silence, you smiled sadly. "You don't have to say it back. I just wanted you to know—"

"I— I know you forever, too." He cut you off. Despite the crack in his voice, there was no hesitation.

Gently, he cupped your face, bringing you closer to him as he pressed his helmet, where his forehead would be, against yours, your warm skin nearly sizzling against the cool beskar. Din closed his eyes at first, but when he opened them a few moments later, he saw that your eyes were shut, your facial features more relaxed than he had ever seen. You melted into his arms, and suddenly he understood why people feared death.

Because now, he had you and the child. He had something to live for.

-end

[foundthe8wing]

Okay, doing this over here because my main tumblr is usually a place for me to vibe and I don’t want all the bullshit tied to that account, but basically: I’m really angry and disappointed with the dndads cast for how they’ve put a lot of the minors in their fanbase in danger. Everything below is a repost from twitter (with permission from the OP, crypticjoy), and I’ll link the thread in a reblog. 

Under a cut because it’s long and potentially triggering (content warnings for grooming, sexualizing minors, and sexual assault)

[OP tagged the relevant cast accounts; I added slashes here bc I’m not sure if those same urls exist on tumblr and I don’t want to be randomly tagging people over here]

5:49 PM Sep 5, 2020

“I don’t usually do this, but: the way that the cast of @/dungeonsanddads engages with their audience is actively dangerous to minors, and they need to get it together. (cw for discussion of grooming, sexualizing minors, sexual assault)

First off, there are some iffy jokes and situations in the podcast itself. I’m not going to get into all of it right here, but have a google doc: [doc will also be linked in reblog]

Yes, the kids in #dndads are fictional, but that doesn’t mean this stuff doesn’t affect real kids listening. a. it normalizes talking/joking about kids in that way and b. There’s a lot of inconsistancy and confusion on the lines they draw--

Paeden saying “baby” is weird but Ron sitting in Terry Jr’s lap isn’t? I’m confused. You know who the fuck relies on that type of confusion and unclarity? Fucking predators

And I’m not saying every in-character decision has to be perfectly moral or acceptable, but the way the cast, out of character, discuss what’s weird and what’s not sends a lot of mixed messages. And that’s legitimately dangerous.

So then you take all of this, and you add a patron discord server that lets nsfw discussions run virtually unchecked--you create a fandom space that allows adults to discuss kinks, and porn searches, and just, all this other stuff, with teenagers...

... and it becomes a breeding ground for grooming and abuse.

The creators aren’t responsible for babysitting their fanbase or for how people engage with their content outside of their spaces (though, again, I’d urge them to be very careful about what kind of messages they’re sending)

But  they ARE responsible for taking basic steps to keep the spaces that THEY create and engage with safe.

“But the rules for the server say 18+!” The rules say you have to be 18 *or have parental permission.* They also say to keep things PG-13. That’s vastly different than establishing something as an adult-only/nsfw space.

“Minors shouldn’t be joining/listening anyway!” The cast can’t control who listens and neither can I, but there’s a difference between knowing teens are listening to you discuss sex with your adult friends vs facilitating conversations between teens and adults on those topics.

“If people are uncomfortable they can just leave.” First off, this situation isn’t just uncomfortable, it’s unSAFE. Second: fuck that. It’s not on minors to set and maintain boundaries about this stuff; a lot of them literally do not know how

Not because they’re stupid, but because they’re young and inexperienced. It’s the responsibility of adults to set and enforce healthy boundaries around sexual discussions, and this particular group of adults has done a fucking terrible job

(Maybe don’t encourage listeners to DM you about kinks! Maybe especially don’t do that when you’ve communicated, intentionally or not, that making and escalating sexual jokes is a really good way to get a reaction from you guys)

I get that they didn’t expect to have so many young listeners, but to be aware of that fact and make no adjustments whatsoever is irresponsible and it WILL lead to someone getting hurt. Does their “young, thirsty, female” audience only exist to them when they can laugh about it?

And let’s be absolutely 1000% clear: this isn’t an issue they’re unaware of. The stuff I’m talking about is an ongoing problem with how their server is run, but it came to a head with one specific situation very recently:

They released a bonus, patron-exclusive episode about the dads taking the bdsm test. Given the general state of the server, I was worried about where those discussions might lead, so before it dropped, I reached out to @/anthony_burch to express my concern

He told me he raised the issue with @/fwong and Ashley, meaning at least three members of the dndads team were aware of the situation, and decided it didn’t warrant any type of preemptive action on their part

(alternatively, it means Anthony lied, which would be a whole separate issue)

[Image ID: a discord DM conversation from Sep 1, 2020, between a crossed out username and reverendanthony. It reads: 

OP: heyyyyy have you guys considered that releasing an episode focused on the bdsm test is almost inevitably going to lead to a bunch of 15 year olds sharing their results in your server because you might want to get ahead of that before someone gets hurt

reverendanthony: oh holy shit, really good idea

OP: thanks, I know it's easy to veer into that territory just because of the nature of your show but I wanted to bring it to your attention because I figured you don't want to create a situation that's like, actively dangerous (and for the record I'm willing to discuss what I think would make it safer but I'm also not going to assume you want/need my input, obviously you can handle it however you see fit)

reverendanthony: No, thank you for bring it up, I really appreciate it -- I just raised the issue with Freddie and Ashley

OP: Good to know, thank you /End ID]

I’m not overreacting. I have seen this shit happen, to my friends and to myself, and watching the dndads cast take absolutely no meaningful action to prevent situations like that from occurring directly under their noses makes me fucking livid

I can guarantee that the #dungeonsanddaddies fanbase includes both predators and survivors of abuse, grooming, etc (including those currently living through it), and I need them to think very, very hard about which group they’re prioritizing.

And I need that choice to be evident through more than just their words, because it doesn’t fucking matter how much you “really appreciate” that I brought up my concerns if you do fuck-all to address them.

It doesn’t matter how many times you say the word “consent” if apparently everyone was okay that “Darryl gets sexually assaulted” was almost a plot point played for laughs.

(His dare from Scam  would have been rape, straight up. Just because no one said the word doesn’t mean it wasn’t coercive and gross).

I’d like to think the @/dungeonsanddads cast isn’t intentionally encouraging abuse, but they’re sure as hell enabling it, and they needed to get their shit together ages ago, because they’re not the ones their negligence hurts.”

Quote retweet by OP 6:51 PM Sep 7, 2020

“So, they updated the rules for the patron server, but I want to be really clear that from my perspective, it’s way too little, way too late. 

The new rules don’t adequately address the core issues and they certainly don’t absolve the cast of the harm they’ve already caused. 

[Tweet includes 2 screenshots: one of a bot asking people to click thumbs up to confirm they’re 18+ (or have a parent’s permission) and agree to the rules, and one that includes two of the rules. It reads: 

“This is an 18+ space. Them’s the rules: per Patreon’s policy, you must be 18+ or have parental permission.

Use language as if you’re at your parents dinner table. Don’t get people in trouble because of your SPICY POSTS. Keep conversation polite. NSFW content is not allowed!”]

(and before anyone says I should bring up my concerns privately, a quick refresher on how well that went last time I did it:) 

[links back to the “(alternatively, it means Anthony lied . . .)” tweet from the original thread]

So hey, @/fwong, some thoughts:

1.The rules are vague and unclear: what /exactly/ do you mean when you say “NSFW content is not allowed!” when the content of your show itself is so often nsfw? And how are you planning to enforce this?

Does it mean you’ll shut down the MBIC conversation that is literally just kink discussion? I need you to be clear on where the line is, because, again, predators rely on that confusion. Don’t give them a gray area to play in. 

For an example of a more clear policy, it’s pretty easy to say, “yep, ‘Henry gets pegged’ sure is a sentence we said on our show and you don’t have to pretend it’s not, but if you’d like to discuss it in any more detail at all, you need to move”

2. Remember how I said I needed to be clear on whether you’re prioritizing survivors or predators? While I doubt it was intentional, the language you’re using here is prioritizing predators.

It’s not “don’t get people in trouble,” it’s “don’t make people uncomfortable.” It’s “we all have a responsibility to make sure this space is safe for everyone, especially the younger members of the community.”

You’re setting people up to be afraid of expressing concerns for fear of “getting people in trouble” or “inciting unnecessary drama.” Even if it’s not what YOU meant, it’s very easy for those words to be manipulated, so +

You absolutely have to be explicitly clear that if someone expresses their discomfort, you’ve got their back. Being safe is more important than being polite. 

3. I need every cast member to take responsibility for their own actions. I’ve gotten no indication from any of you that you understand the ways in which the in-show things I brought up were harmful.

Acknowledging that harm is important not just because of the immediate effects of that content, but also because it implicitly sets an example for how similar complaints should be dealt with going forward.

When someone says “hey, I was uncomfortable that you seem fine with the Glennary ship, because she reads as very young to me,” I don’t need a dissertation on how the perception of characters can evolve due to your improvisational nature

I need to hear “oh, I interpreted her differently, but you’re right, we should have been more clear, and I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable.” Because your responses to your own mistakes set the tone for any other situations like that going forward.

How comfortable is someone going to be with coming to you, or Ash, or any of the mods about someone making them uncomfortable if they’ve seen that when people call YOU out, they’re argued with and shut down?

Don’t tell people you’ve “made it clear that you won’t go there” when they tell you that you ARE there. Listen to them and do better. 

Set the expectation that people will be respected when they raise their concerns. “If you want to come at me you have to bring the heat” is not an appropriate response on a subject that made people genuinely uncomfortable. 

In essence: set people up to be supported and protected, not dismissed. 

[It’s like a matriosche of tweets over here. This one links to another thread, also by crypticjoy. That thread reads:

A non-comprehensive guide to keeping discord servers safe for minors:

1. Make designated channels for nsfw/18+ discussion. Generally speaking, this is a lot more effective than banning those discussions altogether, because it’s a lot easier to say “hey, can you move this conversation?” than “hey, I need you to stop”

In fandom spaces, it’s usually a good idea to have separate channels for talking about nsfw fiction vs discussing your personal sex lives.

2. Give everyone minor/adult roles; make sure your 18+ channels are locked to people who don’t have an adult role. It’s important that there’s more of a barrier there than just checking a box.

3. NSFW channels shouldn’t necessarily be a free-for-all; be aware of people’s boundaries and respect them (for example, r*pe jokes aren’t funny or okay, even if you’re not making them around kids)

4. Explicitly state in your rules that people should feel free to come to mods if anyone is making them uncomfortable. Actually listen to people and resolve the situation if they do approach you.

5. Make it clear that creepy behavior via DMs or other means is also not tolerated--you can’t control what people do outside your server, but you can make the choice to not allow people like that in your space

6. Make sure mods are on top of things BEFORE people have to say anything; sometimes being a mod means being willing to be the “asshole” who shuts things down before they get out of hand, even if they’re not asked.

Be generally aware of signals that people are uncomfortable or that things are escalating too far, and address those situations sooner rather than later.

*It should be noted that safety involves a lot of components beyond just containing nsfw discussions; this thread just happens to be focused on that one specific element.

oh also! It's a good idea to provide resources on grooming so people know what to look out for [links to some resources; again, this’ll be in the reblog]]

So, @/dungeonsanddads, if you’re interested in anything beyond just having a flimsy excuse you can point to to cover your own ass, I’m gonna need you to try again.

Sorry I can’t be nicer about it, but I’ve given so many benefits of the doubt I could be running a successful charity, and this isn’t an issue I’m willing to drop. 

10:02 PM

Thought I was done but actually I've got a few more questions: to what extent were @/HeyBethMay, @/WillBCampos, and @/mattLarnold included in conversations about this issue/the new rules? Is this something your whole team is involved in?

Have you discussed what you're doing on a team and individual basis to keep your fan interactions safe, and are you on the same page about how much it matters? Are you holding each other accountable? Is everyone okay with where this ended up?”

[jcfoxington]

@sambambucky​ : “pls... Pastels, Peaches and Pain??? among us first draft??? marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts (it’s not an au!?!??!)

hi jo !!! Pastels, Peaches, and Pain is one of those sambucky wips i have mostly fully fleshed out in my head because of one (1) extreme moment of clarity after a rogue ‘what if’ tangent thought but havent written anything of yet out of restraint / knowing i need to finish at least one of my current sambucky wips before i start it or none of them will get done

this was the rogue tangent thought: “what if Sam is haunted by Figaro’s ghost and has been since he was a kid?”. i’ve changed the ghost cat to not be Figaro but that’s the premise !

i refer to the fic as the cat fic ‘cause the whole plot is based around sam’s ghost cat companion insisting he adopts nat’s cat Liho after endgame and then Figaro later and then [insert redacted because plot spoilers but just know it relates to Alpine]. no im not projecting my feelings about cats idk what youre talking about 

here’s some note snippets just for you:

the cat, inexplicably, takes a liking to bucky, which is really annoying bc sam doesnt know how to explain to him that all the oddly soft gusts of wind are actually sam's dead cat insisting on getting pats

bucky getting shade thrown at him by said ghost cat during all of tfatws + them making up (and not out. yet)

starts when sam's a kid & follows him as he grows up w/ a ghost kitty as a companion only he can see & interact with + angst with an undertone of comedy + getting together

he whispers to ghost kitty, who simply mmrrs happily

for the among us first draft thing, what basically happened is i saw this tweet and this video and my brain latched onto these dynamics so hard i had to write about them. 

here’s a sketch of my two main imposters, Black (left) and Cyan (right):

and here’s a snippet:

The thing having Cyan pause and stare out at the asteroid field is how the colors stretch to family. When they and Black came aboard, they had thought every crewmember was an adult working on the planet-change project. That the patch of off-white with a black something-pattern-or-shape signified status. In a way, Cyan supposes it does, but just not the way they expected. They had expected it to show what rank an individual held within the hierarchy of the crew, from deckhand to division leader to captain, not to show that you're family of the crew and not actually part of the crew itself. 

There are innocents on this ship. Children. It was not something any of them had anticipated, and not something Cyan had been prepared to deal with. They and Black boarded this horrible place to eradicate a threat, believing each and single one of the humans were accomplishes and dedicated to the goal of destroying Cyan and Black's species, and their planet. But, now?

marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts... doesn’t have a wip title or seperate document for itself yet cause it’s been stuck in my ‘story ideas’ document since its creation. so ‘marvel meets warframe meets a bunch of tumblr posts’ is literally just me describing the vibe of an original world gjkerfkds

the world came to be for two reasons. firstly, i want to do make take on a superhero universe because the plot and complete lack of communication in both the dcu and mcu piss me the fuck off. secondly, needed a place to dump ocs with elaborate backstories or fantasy / sci-fi abilities that dont fit into any of my existing worlds

which sounds super competent but trust me, it isn’t. it didn’t gain any solidity at all until i decided to do a personal ‘how different can i make spn castiel look & still retain the same vibe?’ challenge. i have my own cas now

however, the reason i said ‘marvel meets...’ is because i’ve snagged a couple of different things from the mcu, most notably: enemies to reluctant coworkers to lovers, yes our best friend have the same name. no they’re not the same person, secret evil org is controlling the government, and the assassin that tried to kill you several times is now your best friend

warframe was added to the world because i got attached to my Volt build, gave them a name, and have some headcanons idk what to do with because i refuse to interact with that fandom. also because the friend i made through discussing warframe lore + plot dicked me over so it feels Bad to create for

the glue to this whole mess is that one “in every friend group there’s a mean bisexual, an even meaner lesbian, a she/they, a he/they, a himbo, an astrology bitch, a short king, and a token straight” tumblr post. my main group of superheroes ala the avengers consist of these people. the token straight is the only one i havent figured out who is yet

ever since i figured that out ive been throwing story / character ideas and weirdly specific aesthetics from popular tumblr posts into this world’s notes. here’s some examples:

sword grandmas

that trope where someone’s really nice and acts super well-adjusted to society but then they do something super whack and dangerous and you realize ‘oh they’re secretly a little bit insane, actually’

anti-gay group’s leader’s wife leaves him for another woman

superhero who swore to be the best hero [city / planet / solar system / continent / ????] has ever seen ever since he lost his wife. not because she’s dead but divorce just sucks & the hero-to-be is terrible at coping

dishevelled swamp witch

that one person who runs around with an amulet all the time & isn’t aware it’s cursed

an exasperated, tired superhuman assassin running after their husband and their husband's best friend. their husband and said husband's best friend both have wings. chaos ensues (yes, this one is a sambucky post)

ask me about my WIPs!

BONUS:

@sambambucky​​ : #i want to have a coffee and listen to synopses of all of these.... #i miss the discord wow #WRITING TAG #waitttt time jumping dream movie? lmao I'VE READ THIS LIST FORTY TIMES and every time i rediscover something i wanna know about #outfit doodlesss ugh i need to go

couldnt not respond to your tags because they make me go ghrkjfnerknf but in the good way. we miss you too jo !!

the time jumping dream movie was one of the first vivid dreams i had and the whole thing was so stupidly coherent and whacky i had to write it down. it grew plot, a queer love dynamic, weird sci-fi apocalypse elements, anti-military propaganda, questionable science, and a sequel while i wasnt looking and now i just. have to make it a real movie or i’ll combust

outfit djoodlles.png is only on there because my best friend sent me a ‘draw this outfit’ meme and space kitty, my current character brainrot, stole all the outfits for himself. otherwise, that file just sits there until im feeling like designing an outfit or wanna see how a stupid thing looks on my oc patrick

here’s one of the two poses-to-doodle-outfits-on of space kitty ive made so far:

and here’s one of those stupid things on patrick (that then turned into an actual outfit of his because i have no self control):

[ickle-ronniekins]

fools in love

request from nonnie!!! “pls could you write a story about fred being real sad bc he hasn’t seen the reader in a long time since she’s a year younger and still in school and he’s super busy with the store and he has these huge plans for them and he’s just having a rough day and then he finally gets to see her after a long time??? thank you!!”

pairing: fred x reader

word count: 1.6k

A/N: a little shorter, but i hope you like what i’ve done with the prompt :D i’m notorious for writing a lot and making stories very, very long but i wanted to try and write something that was only one or two scenes and end it with a big grand gesture so i hope this leaves you all smiling!!

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy | message me if you’d like to be added lovelies

“Promise, it’ll go by so quickly, darling! I’ll see you soon.”

Fred felt stupid enough with all of these new customers looking as though they were positively in love with him, as he willingly and very quickly turned each and every one of them down, earning him eye rolls, a bombardment of questions and swift glances at his left ring finger to see if they could get any answers out of him for why he’d been rejecting them, exactly. He didn’t need to be reminded that he’d made a promise he wasn’t able to keep. He didn’t feel much like talking. He didn’t feel much like doing anything at all. He felt positively dreadful.

Surely, it couldn’t have been months since he’d last seen you, could it? But alas, it could. Surviving on letters alone and not much else, you’d planned on visiting him one long weekend at the beginning of your final term at Hogwarts. But when Professor Snape had caught you in the Owlery late one evening after hours, sending yet another letter to Fred, he’d placed you in detention for not only one weekend, but four. A whole bloody month. Hogwarts without Fred was seemingly miserable.

Fred, feeling more on edge than before, had plans for that weekend you’d meant to visit. Not just any plans, like showing you his and George’s new artwork for the shop, their new apartment just above it, their inventions that they’d just designed and were getting ready to market and sell after placing on the last finishing touches. It was the first time he’d be seeing you in months—more like years, it felt like. He’d wanted it to be special.

George dropped a very large box of Extendable Ears on the shop desk, took one out, and held it up to the bare spot where his missing ear should be. He grinned at Fred and said, “What’ve you said, mate? I can’t ear you!” He found himself rather funny, rightfully so, and earned himself a laugh from Fred, who was grateful for the few mere seconds of thoughts not surrounding how much he bloody missed you.

George, before closing up the shop for the evening and heading upstairs to make them both dinner, clapped his brother on the back and told him, “Just a few more weeks, Freddie. Don’t look so glum.”

Fred didn’t sleep that night. Maybe an hour or two. Which didn’t help in the morning when the sunshine brought in more customers than he could’ve imagined; the desolate, colorless street of Diagon Alley was swarmed with people visiting from all over. He barely had any time to collect himself and discuss the day’s endeavors with George—each of them were pulled in separate directions with hungry customers itching to get their hands on any and all Weasley products, even those that hadn’t hit shelves yet. Fred grinned cheekily at his twin from across their very busy store. Suppose his day could be looking up.

A few hours into it, and he reckoned he shouldn’t have spoken so soon. Not only had he nearly fallen off of a ladder reaching for something on the highest shelf (his wand was upstairs in his bedroom; not a great place for it) and caught himself on the front desk at the very last minute, earning a sharp pain in his ankle, he’d also needed to stop a few individuals from sneaking out without paying for their items, only to then be followed around by a girl who wouldn’t leave him alone and a very angry bloke who did nothing but complain and yell about how his pygmy puff wasn’t changing colors throughout the day (it wasn’t supposed too).

When the shop was finally empty and he had a chance to sit and actually feel the pain radiating from his feet up through his legs, he pulled at his hair and yanked off his tie; he was absolutely bloody exhausted and was not at all looking forward to the fact that he and George still needed to restock the shelves before the weekend’s end. Luckily, though, he’d been able to slip away and grab his wand.. should make things a bit easier.

George emerged from the storage closet wearing a very cheeky grin, and it only seemed to deepen when Fred frowned. “What’re you so chipper about?” he asked, unbuttoning his vest and throwing it haphazardly over the countertop.

“Bad day, Freddie?”

“Bloody hell,” Fred replied, letting his head fall into his hands. He frowned again, about to explode, but rethought his choice of words, “Not bad, per se, just—long. But I reckon that comes with the business eh?”

George just smiled as he slowly took some Weather in a Bottle products, Decoy Detonators, Basic Blaze Boxes and began to gingerly place them on some shelves.

“Seriously, mate,” Fred began, peering quizzically at his twin who looked as though he was trying very hard to suppress a big secret, “what’s up with you? Something happen you need to tell me about?”

“No, nothing,” George replied, and a larger grin lifted his cheeks, “I just reckon your day could still turn around, is all.”

Fred scoffed. “Yeah, right. Always have loved that enthusiasm of yours, Georgie.” George shrugged his shoulders, his smile only deepening yet again, when he suggested to Fred to head back to the supply closet to grab more of the newer items to place on display at the front of the store to attract more hungry crowds. Begrudgingly he went, not very keen on the sharp pain in his feet now extending all the way into his back. Merlin, he just wanted to lay down.

He took his wand out of his pocket, ready to Accio the nonsense out of all of these items, when something nearly scared the living daylights right out of him. A yelp escaped his lips. He jumped on the spot, whirled around quickly, and discovered a small light in the corner had been flicked on.

“You know,” you began, and crossed your arms in delight, “you’re quite a sight for sore eyes after a long day.”

A very large grin plastered itself across his face; suddenly, all pain in his body seemed to subside at the sight of you. Butterflies were engulfing him. He was positively bewildered at the sight of you. He felt like a right fool for screaming in his own shop, but couldn’t help but grin like mad. Without even thinking properly, he ran across the crowded space to you, lifted you up off of the table you’d been sitting on and spun you around, encasing you in a bone crushing hug you were bound to feel the effects of later.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked breathlessly as disbelief flooded his body.

You slapped him playfully. “You’re not the only one who can pull off the greatest of surprises, Fred Weasley.” You draped your arms across his shoulders and inched a little closer. He felt his insides twist in the best of ways; were you really here? “Reckon I could give you a run for your money.”

“You mean to tell me you’ve actually escaped the wrath of Severus Snape?”

You rolled your eyes casually. “Thank Merlin for McGonagall. Told me not to worry. Has Snape doing other sorts of business, so I doubt he even noticed. Right load of bollocks that was, wasn’t it?” He laughed haughtily at your jokes and his hands tightened around your abdomen.

“Got to hand it to you—you’ve certainly shocked me, that’s for sure.”

“Color you impressed?” you winked.

Kissing you for the first time in Merlin only knows how long nearly set his soul on fire; the steady pounding of his heart seemed to increase the second your lips touched his, the touch he’d been dying to feel, imagining over and over again in all the time you’d been apart. When you tried to pull away to tease him again, he pulled you back, noting that he wasn’t quite yet finished with you, and you both stayed there, your hands in his bright red hair and his gripping your whole body tightly, for several long minutes, or maybe even days.

“You, my love,” he started, tugging gently on your hair, “have no bloody idea just how much I’ve missed you.”

“Nah, I definitely know,” you replied cheekily, flipping your hair, earning a smirk and a wink from him. Then you softened and said breathlessly, “I’ve missed you, too. School’s just dreadful without you.”

He felt a pang in his chest. It had always been difficult being a year apart, especially now with them owning the shop and you still attending Hogwarts. You’d seen one another nearly every single day for six years, even before you got together. It was strange having that all shift dramatically. “I’ll just have to make it up to you then.”

“Oh yeah? Like how?”

“Got a few surprises up my sleeve.”

“Oh really?” you asked, placing a hand to your hip and grinning like mad. “You didn’t even know I was coming! How could you already have something planned?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and continued, “Think you’re going to out-surprise me? Think again, Weasley.”

You pressed your lips gently to his again; the feeling of your eyelashes softly brushing his cheeks sent him into a tizzy. He held you delicately in his hands, as if he were afraid you were going to break, or slip right through his fingers. He opened his eyes, just for a moment, to make sure that yours were still closed. When he saw that they were, he closed his again and gently, very gently ran his hand over the very tiny box he had hidden away in his pocket, holding what would seemingly replace the gold band you had on your left ring finger that’d been there since you were little. He felt the edges of the box against his fingers.. the box that had been there ever since he purchased it a few months ago. Another surge of raging fire raced through his bones; he was sure it was from both you running your hands absentmindedly down his chest, and also the thought of what the weekend would bring. Guess his plans hadn’t been ruined after all.

When you parted and you brought your hands to his cheeks, gently running your hands across his stubble, his smile just deepened at the happiness radiating off of you. He could hardly wait to out-surprise you. “We’ll just see about that, darling.”

reblogs & feedback are always appreciated! thanks darlings for always reading and requesting x

[ambersky0319]

Intrulogical wear Remus goes over to Logan's house, turns out he's a GAMER and they play Doki Doki literature club and goofily voice it over but then they kiss. -H anon

Okay, it isn’t the prompt exactly but I still really love this, and I hope y'all enjoy too! (Btw, despite the warnings below this is pretty fluffy! The warnings more so pertain to DDLC itself(Also this is pretty much a human AU))

Warnings: Spoiler warnings for Doki Doki Literature Club, suicide mention/description of a character’s suicide, lmk if I need to add anything else bc I’m unsure

Masterpost 

——————————-

Remus was surprised when Logan had texted him, asking if Remus wanted to join Logan in playing a game he had recently gotten. People didn’t normally ask Remus to join things (aside from Logan himself, as they were dating), so Remus accepted immediately. Logan told him it would be one of those longer games, so Remus brought some stuff so he could stay the night.

Logan greeted him and his eyes seemed to light up. Remus wasn’t used to seeing Logan in anything but his usual polos and jeans and ties. He hadn’t expected for Logan to greet him in his pajamas already.

“Well, are you just going to stand there or are you gonna come inside?” Logan asked, smiling faintly as Remus ducked his head, walking into Logan’s apartment.

“What are we going to be playing?” Remus asked, setting his bag down where Logan had pointed, not far away from the couch. Remus soon joined Logan.

“Have you heard of Doki Doki Literature Club?”

Remus wrinkled his nose. “Sounds like a game Roman would like instead.”

“I think you’d prefer it, actually.” Logan said, getting the game set up. Remus got comfortable. He wasn’t really a gamer himself, and was quite surprised when he discovered that Logan loved video games. “It’s technically a dating sim, but from what I hear it covers quite a few dark themes. I’ve been avoiding a lot of spoilers for it though because I wanted to be able to play it myself first.”

“Why’d you invite me, though?” Remus asked, watching as the loading screen appeared. The warning appeared, and Remus furrowed his brows. “You also read the content warnings, right?”

“Yeah, none of our triggers are on there. Also, I invited you because I thought you might like it! It has a lot of dialogue and I thought you’d have fun making up the weirdest voices for the characters.”

Remus laughed lightly. “Okay, I trust you.” Logan gave him a bright smile, one Remus knew only few people saw. And that alone made his stomach tie into knots and feel like a jumble of saw despite having seen that smile dozens of times before. Logan turned back to the TV and hit I Accept, letting the main screen for the game come up. A bubbly music filled Logan’s apartment, and Remus couldn’t wait to get into it.

-

“Oh my God, I’ve got a bad feeling-” Remus gripped Logan’s arm as they continued. A few hours had passed already and things were starting to get weird. They had just gotten through an emotional scene with Sayori (Remus’s high-pitched voice for her made it so difficult to get through) and it was the next in-game day.

And Sayori wasn’t in the school.

“Of course something would go wrong right before the festival,” Logan stated, pushing up his glasses. He hadn’t said anything about Remus practically clinging to his arm.

Things had already starting getting a bit weird. But after learning Sayori had depression, and then promising to be there for her and saying they love her and not checking up on her in the morning…

“Hate the main character,” Remus muttered as he loosened his grip just a bit on Logan. “Honestly, like… Depression doesn’t work like that. Wish I could just hit him over the head with a bat. No! My morning star!”

Logan laughed. “You mean the one you stole from the museum.”

“No, the one my grandma gave me.” Remus rolled his eyes.

“I think dropping a few tons of sand on him would be better, honestly.” Logan stated, and before Remus could react they continued.

“At least he feels a little guilty, still doesn’t excuse it though,” Remus says, uncrossing his legs as they begin to feel tingly.

“You kind of left her hanging this morning, you know?” Logan reads in the calm voice they were using for Monika, and Remus and Logan exchange a worried glance.

“Oh… Oh no, no no… Sayori…” Remus buries his face into Logan’s shoulder, half of it at least. He still wanted to see what happened. They finished reading Sayori’s poem and Remus felt worried and he wished he could just grab Sayori and hug her and protect her himself.

Logan wraps an arm around Remus, holding him close as the game pans back to the houses, and they go to Sayori’s house. A sick feeling rests in both of their stomachs.

“Oh no, no no no no….”

The suspense was getting to Remus. He loved gore and horror but he hated the suspense in the few games he had played and the movies that felt with these topics.

“You alright?” Logan asked, looking to Remus worriedly. Remus nodded.

“Anxious about what we’re about to see,” he muttered, and Logan nodded, bringing the arm wrapped around Remus up to brush through Remus’s hair. The music was quiet and although Logan was worried as to what was about to be on screen, he just showed it less. He waited until he felt Remus relax slightly to continue.

They continued on, and after they opened the door-

“I knew it!”

“Oh God!”

They both jumped back, Remus burying his face again into Logan’s arm as Logan faced the door, only glancing back at the screen where Sayori hung. The music that followed just sent dread through them both.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Remus muttered as they sat back up to continue reading the narrative. “Poor Sayori, oh my God.” Remus rubbed his eyes as the loading screen came back.

“Hey, it’s different.”

“Huh?”

“Sayori’s place on the screen, it’s all glitched out. And the new game button.”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I hate this but I love it,” Remus laughs slightly, trying to get his racing heart to get back to a normal rate.

Logan rubbed his back, his heart also beating quickly. He opened up the files for the game, remembering that it was something you should do. Remus watched as Logan went through the game files, first opening a file called hxppy thxughts.

“Holy shit-” Logan hissed, melting into Remus’s warmth as Remus held him tighter. On the screen was a drawing of Sayori hanging, almost looking as though a child drew it.

Remus leaned forward to close out the file. “Should we check anything else?”

“Sayori was really glitched. The characters, maybe?”

Remus hummed softly, before opening up the character files. “No! Ooooh…..”

Remus fell back into Logan’s arms. “This is freaky!”

Logan laughed slightly at that. “It’s only being freaky now?”

“You know what I meant! It having an effect on the files!” Remus huffed. “I can’t believe she was deleted!”

They left the characters file, and instead scrolled through all the other ones, just to be certain they didn’t miss anything. They discovered a file which someone was talking about deleting Sayori, that it was probably better and that they hoped they didn’t break the game.

Remus buried his face into Logan’s shoulder again, groaning slightly. “There’s still a lot of the game left, huh?” He asked. Logan nodded..

“Want to save it for tomorrow?”

“Let’s see how the game is with Sayori deleted. Then try to sleep, probably being haunted by the image of Sayori hanging there in our nightmares.”

Logan made some form of noise that sounded like agreement, and he shifted so Remus could rest his head on Logan’s chest as they continued. He had one arm wrapped protectively around Remus though, whether for his own comfort or Remus’s, neither knew not cared. Remus just shuffled closer.

They continued, starting a “new” game, and got caught up yet again in the narrative, fascinated and terrified with how the game continued, with the game correcting itself without Sayori. It was more difficult to keep up their silly voices. It did lighten the mood though.

It took awhile to get used to it all, especially only just recovering from Sayori’s death.

“Something about Monika is the most off,” Remus said. Logan nodded as he saved the game, rubbing his eyes and yawning.

“She’s a really interesting character, that’s for sure.”

Logan turned off the TV, the only light now being a dim lamp. He stretched, and Remus didn’t think the nerd’s bones could pop any louder.

“Think we should head to bed, then?” Logan asked. They had snacked throughout the game, and weren’t that hungry. Remus could feel his face warm slightly.

“You sure?”

“I don’t see why either of us should sleep on the couch. Unless you’re uncomfortable with it, then you can have the bed and I can sleep out here!”

Logan smiled warmly, brushing some of Remus’s hair out of his face. Remus swallowed before smiling softly himself. No one besides Logan would ever want to be this close to him.

“I’m down to share a bed.”

Logan kissed his forehead before letting Remus go change into some pajamas.

Logan was already in bed by the time Remus had finished getting ready, and almost hesitantly Remus climbed in beside him.

“You’re certain you’re comfortable with this?” Logan asked. He really wanted to make sure Remus was okay with this, he didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Remus slung an arm over Logan’s waist, cuddling close. He nodded. “Yeah. I just don’t want to take things too fast.”

Logan pressed another kiss to the top of Remus’s head. “That’s understandable.” Logan made himself a bit more comfortable. “Just let me know if you ever get uncomfortable, yeah?”

“Will do.” Logan smiled and took off his glasses, leaning over Remus to place the glasses on the nightstand before turning the light off. On the ceiling, dozens of glow-in-the-dark stars. Remus pressed closer to Logan, sighing in content.

Soon enough, both were asleep, dreams wandering back to the game they had been playing.

——————————-

Taglists

Just ask if you wish to be added, removed, or tagged/not tagged in certain content! (Pssst- Make sure to specify!)

TS Taglist

@treasureofpriam @theloveliestsweetspongy @tacochippy @anderswrites @romanknite @0beansprout0 @random-fandom-dragon @daflangstlairde @princerhubarb @that-one-ts-artist @heyitsmeimjustkindahere @aromanticandaromatic @deliciouslycrookedme @batpinkstudentpersona @avocados26 @fandomloverangel @red-eyes88 @adarkgreensoul @analogicallythinking @thatreallyawkwardpotato @insanegoldie2 @gothams-lil-sweet-potato-pie @alexkittycat1 @len-art-trash @faithyfander @an-absolute-failure @lexilucacia @o-hello-its-me @fearthesmolpotato @moxiety-my-love @thatonenerdphotographer @diadems-arewornon-capita @morrogirl9024 @thefandomnerd15 @sulphur-and-honey @aroaceagenderfluid @brain-iak @theoneandonlydork @sidesareathing @surohsopsisofclouds @dissappropriation @demigodbookdragon @too-many-fandoms89 @a-soul-among-the-stars @croftersgamer @thenaiads @theyluna-womoon @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit @willowaudreykeyes @nafsbluebery @stopitanxiety @deceitnotyeet @underthesea73 @jackscareington @askrae-the-fander @enby-ralsei @stinkyboiremus69 @cas-is-a-hunter @catolicabuena 

Intrulogical Taglist

@cress-the-fander @worm-does-shit @jadedmidnight @virgilisacinnamonroll @ohgeneralmygeneral @asthmatic-trash-bastard @remusownsmyuwus @alexinthebathroomataparty  @diadems-arewornon-capita @the-bethanista @demigodbookdragon @theunknoen @theyluna-womoon @logic-with-a-pinch-of-deceit @underthesea73 @homestuckiscontagious 

[dweetwise]

Its my birthday tomorrow and I don't wanna hit that age milestone so hear me out four survivors and one killer go into the match but everyones aged back like 20 years. Survivors remember the just of their bonds to one another but not their ages, they know the body they are in is suddenly 20 years younger though.

ngl i saw the first ask and immediately went “GASP AN EXCUSE TO WRITE DAD ACE??” great minds think alike anon. now have 8 pages of fluffy crack bc i got carried away

ages i hc for this story: ace 31, david 14, jake 6, meg 2, sally 27

Characters: Ace, Nurse, David, Jake, Meg | Mentioned: Nea | Ships: None | Warnings: None

Ace tries to parent (crack)

When Ace spawns into a trial on Rotten Fields, something immediately feels... off. He briefly has time to consider why his shirt feels so tight over his shoulders before his thoughts are interrupted by the sound of pure nightmares;

A crying baby.

Ace glances around, skeptical. Surely it has to be a new killer? Not even Feng’s voice is that high-pitched. Ace has half a mind to just leave the voice be, but it’s getting louder and he feels like he needs to do his good deed of the year and at least check. So, armed with a trusty purple flashlight, he gets to exploring.

He follows the ungodly screeching and, to his surprise, finds an actual human baby, laying in a small divot on a hay bale. Shit, what now? He doesn’t know the first thing about kids and he doesn’t really care to start learning now. But he can’t just leave the thing here, not to mention it’s loud as fuck and has probably already alerted the killer.

Ace grimaces and reluctantly reaches out to grab the child in his arms. Damn, it’s heavier than he thought! He pulls the baby into his chest to put less of a strain on his arms, and it... stops crying. Huh. Well, time to sneak off before the killer comes to check the noise. If he’s lucky, he’ll run into one of the others and can dump the kid on them.

Thankfully, there’s no sign of a killer as Ace makes his way through the cornfield. He idly wonders if he’s been placed in the trial alone with the baby, until he hears a loud clang followed by panicked cursing. Ace speeds up into a jog, rounding a corner of a pallet gym and coming face to face with—

“What the hell are you doing?” Ace asks the unfamiliar man who is in the middle of piling barrels on top of each other next to the outside wall of the trial, some of them falling down and creating tons of noise. The baby shifts restlessly in his arms and he half-heartedly tries to cover its ears.

“I’m gettin’ us outta ‘ere!” the man turns to face him with an angry remark. Ace squints at the somewhat familiar face; the man is young, most likely still a teenager, with light acne and a scrawny body that hasn’t quite grown into itself yet. There’s something disturbingly familiar about the glare shot his way, and the accent—

“David!?” Ace gawks. The teen’s glare morphs into a confused frown.

“...Ace?” teen David finally seems to recognize. Then, he looks around, appearing to take in the surroundings with new eyes. “Fock, this ‘s still the bloody fog, innit?”

“Why are you so young?” Ace asks, confused.

“I mean, ‘m not tha only one,” David says, looking him up and down pointedly. “Ya sure as shite din’ look like ‘at last time I saw ye.”

Ace looks down at himself and realizes his own arms are a lot bigger than he’s used to and his gut isn’t hanging over his belt like usual. He’s also wearing pants that are way too tight and speak of a youthful cockiness—holy shit, he’s in his thirties.

“So the kid’s gotta be...” David seems to remember, turning to look over Ace’s shoulder at something. Ace follows suit, and sees a child standing in front of the cornfield, hands over his ears and face twisted into a pout.

Ace recognizes the boy even before David utters his name. With unruly black hair and equally black monolid eyes, it has to be Jake. Even with the annoyed frown on his face, he’s just so young, and this is definitely no place for a kid. Before Ace has time to panic further, David throws him for another loop.

“Does’sat mean the baby’s... Meg?” the Brit asks, leaning to look closer at the small kid in Ace’s arms. Sure enough, Ace notices the toddler is a redhead, and its blue eyes are blinking up at him curiously. The ages start adding up, and Ace mutters a dejected “Fuck”.

“The hell’s going on?” David appears to share his sentiment. “Do we gotta escape? How the fuck do we get ‘em out?” he starts raising his voice, panic rising while gesturing to Jake and Meg.

“Calm down,” Ace says, trying to stop his own thoughts from racing. “Let’s just move as a group and try find the nearest generator. If the killer comes, I’ll distract him while you hide these two.”

“Generators?” David says with a frown. “I dun... I don’t remember much, the trials... is’a proper blur—damn, me ‘ead hurts.” Goddamnit. Looks like the transformation had some effect on the other’s memory. Ace can only hope it’s temporary.

“Jake?” he turns to the boy, who perks up upon hearing his name. “What about you? Are you alright?” Jake doesn’t answer, only staring up at Ace. “Do you remember anything?” Ace asks, crouching before the quiet boy and holding out Meg for him to see. “Do you remember her?” he asks.

Jake glances at Meg, eyes wide while he considers the question. “I remember...” Jake starts quietly, looking back up at Ace and blinking a couple times innocently. “That you’re gross,” he finishes. Ace sputters at the unexpected sass while David laughs behind him, teenage voice cracking into a squeak.

When David calms down and Ace tries to pry more information from the teen, he realizes he’s gotten stuck with team Daddy Issues. Both Jake and David have beef with their fathers, and Ace recalls Meg telling them her dad ran out on her when she was just a baby. Surely, this was a deliberate move on the Entity’s part just to spite Ace?

“Oh!” David suddenly exclaims, as if remembering something important. Ace almost thinks his luck is about to turn around when David, instead of blessing him with some vital piece of information, proceeds to stretch the waist of his sweats to peer into his own pants. “Aw, shite!” the teen sighs in disappointment.

“Can we focus on the imminent danger and not the size of your junk!?” Ace hisses in frustration.

“Who’s that?” Jake’s voice pipes up and distracts Ace from the argument. 

Ace looks into the corn and sees a woman approaching them, walking gracefully through the stalks with her red hair flowing behind her, dressed in a... nurse uniform. Shit!

“Stay back!” Ace warns, stepping in front of Jake protectively, turning his body away to shield Meg in his arms. He points the flashlight at the killer in what he hopes is a threatening manner.

“Ace?” she asks, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. Huh, Ace had no idea she even knew his name. Now that he thinks about it, she’s pretty cute, with her round face and button nose—damn it, focus!

“What's going on?” Ace demands. “Why did the Entity de-age us?”

“I don’t know,” the Nurse says. “I’m just as confused as you are.”

Ace squints. Pretty or not, he doesn’t trust her, not with these kids depending on him to protect them. Before he can question her further, David, hands thankfully no longer in his pants, comes up beside him.

“David, don’t—“ Ace tries to warn, but he has no free hands to stop the teen if he decides to pick a fight.

“’Ello, luv. Fancy meetin’ ya,” David offers in a friendly manner. Ace sighs, some of the tension fading. Then, David’s gaze drops down from the killer’s face to her-— “Noice tits,” the Brit quips, grinning smugly.

“David!” Ace screeches, mortified and barely resisting the urge to smack him with the flashlight. “That’s no way to talk to a lady!”

The Nurse merely chuckles into her hand, not seeming phased by David’s inappropriate comment. “I’m without my powers and weapon, so perhaps I could assist you in your escape?” she suggests. Ace feels like he kind of owes her for David’s hormone-driven harassment.

“You can tag along if you want,” Ace settles on. “Let’s try to finally find a gen.”

“I saw one on the other side of that hill,” the Nurse informs. “I’ll show you the way.”

“Uh, thanks. Pack it up boys, we’re moving!” Ace calls over his shoulder to David and Jake.

“Ya comin’, mate?” he hears David offer to Jake.

“What’s a mate?” Jake asks, tilting his head with a frown while trailing after David.

“Like a... lad. Chum. Pal. Wanker—”

“Hey!” Ace turns around to scold the teen. The last thing he needs is bratty Jake picking up more curse words.

“Like a... friend?” Jake tries.

“Yeah!” David says. Jake blushes.

“I wanna be your friend, you’re so cool,” Jake mumbles.

“Race ya through the corn!” David challenges.

“David NO—” Ace warns as the two boys take off in a sprint in the opposite direction of the generator. He curses under his breath, holding Meg closer to his chest as he starts jogging after them.

When Ace catches up, Jake has faceplanted into the mud and David is nowhere to be seen.

“Oh for the love of—” Ace sighs, pulling the boy upright by his collar. He expects Jake to cry, because isn’t that what kids do when they trip over themselves? Instead, Jake just blinks up at Ace with a muddy face.

“I fell,” Jake says.

“I can see that,” Ace deadpans.

“Oi, over ‘ere! I found a gen!” David calls through a couple rows of corn.

Ace gets Jake to the generator David is at without further incident. The Nurse quickly joins them, pushing through the corn. She takes one look at Jake’s face and hides a smile behind her hand, reaching for a handkerchief and proceeding to wipe the boy’s face clean. Ace appreciates the gesture.

“Thanks—uh, I don’t even know your name,” Ace realizes.

“Sally,” the Nurse offers with a small smile. “Shall we try repairing the generator, now?” she asks when Jake’s face is somewhat mud-free.

“Right,” Ace says, crouching down by the machine, trying to figure out a way to hold Meg safely while repairing. Sally leans over the generator on the other side, curiously observing the mechanism.

“You joining, David?” Ace asks the teen who is doing fuck all to contribute. He frowns as he sees David’s face is red and he’s breathing a bit heavily. Then, he spots a noticeable tent in the teen’s loose pants. Oh for fuck’s sake! David is standing directly behind Sally, and got a generous view of her skirt clinging to her ass when she bent down. Ace sighs in exasperation and gives David a pointed look.

“Oi, I can’t do nuthin’ about it!” David sputters.

“Yes, well, you could try if not staring helps,” Ace snarks.

“It’s fockin’ puberty, not me!” David argues. Then he seems to realize something, face breaking into a smug grin. “Not that ye’d remember any of tha’, ye old fart.”

“I beg your pardon??” Ace screeches while both David and Sally laugh at his expense.

It seems the Entity isn’t allowing Sally to interact with the generator, blocking her side of the machine each time she tries to touch it.

“Do you want me to hold her while you repair the generator?” Sally asks, motioning to Meg in Ace’s arms.

Ace eyes the killer warily, hugging Meg tighter to himself. The small girl responds by reaching out a snotty hand and smacking it against his beard, gurgling in amusement. Ugh, lovely.

“Do you truly believe I would hurt her?” Sally pushes.

“Fine,” Ace sighs in defeat as his grip on the toddler is about to slip again when he tries to reach into the generator. “But I’m keeping an eye on you, so don’t get any ideas!”

In the end, Ace has to teach David how to repair the generator, as all of the younger’s previous knowledge of the machines seems to have evaporated. He quickly learns that if David as an adult is impatient, David as a teenager is downright insufferable. Lots of cursing and slang insults ensue as David keeps getting the wrong wires crossed and setting their progress back and Ace’s patience is put to a test.

Meanwhile, Sally gives Meg a wooden horse and Jake a large pine cone to play with, the items that apparently would have been her add-ons for the trial. Meg immediately shoves the horse’s head into her mouth and suckles on it.

“Is it safe? Is it going to splinter?” Ace asks, five seconds away from swooping Meg back into his arms and throwing the questionable toy into the depths of the cornfield.

“It’s old, but the wood is smooth. It won’t splinter, I promise,” Sally reassures.

As he and David are working on the next generator, Sally is humming softly a ways to the side, rocking a napping Meg in her lap who is clutching her new toy in her tiny hands. Jake sits on the ground next to them, using sticks to make the pine cone into an animal. He excitedly shows in to Sally, muttering “Sheep”.

“That’s a cute sheep, Jake,” the killer praises. “Very fluffy.” Jake shuffles his feet, embarrassed by the praise.

Ace feels the generator's piston jump under his hands, before the machine putters along much faster than before.

“Look, I did a thing!” David exclaims, excitedly turning to Ace. “Tha’ was good, right?”

“Yeah, nice job David,” Ace praises, making the teen grin.

“I always wanted children,” Sally says, mostly to herself. “This is nice,” she sighs happily, even while wiping some of Meg’s drool from the sleeping girl’s face.

Ace can’t say he shares the sentiment. He never even seriously considered children; after all, they wouldn’t have fit his lifestyle of gambling and drinking. But now, when he takes in the familiar, if much younger, faces of his companions, he realizes he’s already been looking out for them way before this freak incident. He recalls how his view on baby Meg changed in the blink of an eye as he realized she, like Jake and David, weren’t just any kids; they were his kids. It’s been so easy for him to slip into a dad role now that they fully depend on him and he idly wonders if he would have made a good father, had he ever decided to have children of his own.

When they’re making their way to the next generator, Jake tugs on Sally’s skirt.

“What is it, sweetheart?” Sally asks fondly. Jake pouts and tries to hop up to touch her arm, almost stumbling over his own feet in his eagerness.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Sally asks, rearranging her grip on Meg to hold her with one arm, and then extending the other down to Jake. Jake grabs the hand eagerly and offers a shy smile at the woman.

And damnit, the exchange tugs at heartstrings Ace didn’t even know he had.

They make it to the third generator and while he and David get to work on it, Sally sits down with Meg and Jake curiously peers over David’s shoulder at the machine. 

Then, Jake disappears.

“I swear, he was right there!” no, Ace is not panicking, he’s just... concerned, antsy, and ready to kill if something happens to Jake. Okay, so maybe he’s panicking a little bit.

“You know how kids are,” Sally says, way too calm about the entire situation. “Let’s go look for him, he can’t have gone far. I’ll check by the shack,” she suggests, turning to leave.

“No, you give Meg to me, I don’t trust you,” Ace snaps. Hurt flashes across Sally’s face. “...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—I’m just worried, alright?”

“I understand,” she says, respectfully still handing the baby back to him. Meg lets out an excited coo at seeing Ace, arms extending towards him eagerly. “Let’s split up and holler when we find him.”

“Lemme help,” David offers, moving to stand up from the generator.

“You’re staying here, in case he comes back,” Ace orders. “And stay put until we get back. I’m not losing any more kids in this damn place.”

“Okay, dad,” David snarks, rolling his eyes but obediently getting back to work by the machine.

Ace power-walks through the rows of corn, checking the harvester along with some fire barrels he saw earlier. His heart drops as he takes in all the dangerous farm equipment; if Jake got stuck under a tractor—no, focus, he scolds himself. Not even Meg’s happy babbling can keep the dread from pooling in his stomach.

“Ace, I found him! He’s okay!” Sally’s voice is a godsend, interrupting his panicked thoughts. He spots her red hair through the corn, quickly making his way over, relief flooding over him—

And promptly flying out the window when he sees Jake in the goddamn cow tree, high up and clinging to one of the branches, petrified from fear.

“In what world is he okay!?” Ace screeches.

“He doesn’t look hurt! We should be able to climb up easily, I just need to get rid of my overskirt—“ Sally starts.

“I’ll get him, you hold her,” Ace says, shoving Meg into Sally’s hands before sprinting up to the tree with single-minded determination. He’s grateful for his younger body as he manages to fly up the damn thing fast as lighting, so much adrenaline pumping in his veins that he barely registers getting smacked in the face by stray branches. Soon, he’s holding a trembling Jake in his arms and he knows everything will be alright.

After he’s carefully made his way down the tree with Jake clinging to him, and places the boy back on solid ground, Jake starts bawling. Ace almost feels like joining in, still shaking from the adrenaline and with countless ‘what if’ scenarios running through his head.

“Shh darling, it’s okay, you’re safe now,” Sally murmurs, trying to soothe the boy. Jake just shakes his head and cries some more.

Ace frowns and glances up at the tree. Did Jake get scared by the height, or did something else happen? Maybe he got smacked by one of the cows—ah. Of course; Ace has become so desensitized to the carcasses strung up on the tree, and in a fucked up way they even symbolize safety to him because they’re attached to one of the strongest loops he knows.

But Jake loves animals. And even if he didn’t, what kid wants to see that!?

“The cows must have scared you. You like animals, don’t you?” Ace asks, kneeling before the sobbing boy. Jake hiccups, nodding. “They’re not real. They’re not actually hurting.”

“Promise?” Jake sniffles.

“Promise.”

Jake’s sobbing stops and he rushes into Ace’s arms. “I don’t wanna look,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut.

“It’s okay. I’ll tell when it’s safe to look,” Ace promises, lifting Jake up in a reverse piggyback while the boy clings to his neck, still shaking.

They rejoin David, the teen’s face lighting up when he spots Jake in Ace’s arms.

“Ey, little lad! Where you run off ta?” David offers with a smile.

“He went on a little adventure,” Sally offers when Jake doesn’t look up from Ace’s shoulder. Ace spots a crow nearby, perched on a hay bale.

“You can look now, Jake,” Ace remembers. Jake lifts his head, and Ace points to the crow. “Do you see the bird?”

Jake’s eyes widen in wonder and he nods slowly, eyes never leaving the animal.

“We can look at it closer—but you need to be very quiet. Can you do that?”

Jake nods excitedly, not uttering a peep. Ace starts sneaking toward the crow, trying to keep low, and leading Jake after him. He hopes he doesn’t spook it, since he’s never been good with the birds like Jake, always setting them off in trials and alerting the killer.

It seems luck is on his side, as they’re soon right by the animal, which doesn’t seem to be bothered by their presence as it keeps grooming itself. Ace motions for Jake to go on, and the boy carefully walks up to the bird. He reaches a small hand out and the animal—lets him pet it. Woah. Looks like Jake has always been a natural.

The beady eyes of the crow meet Jake’s equally black ones, wide in curiosity as he carefully runs his fingers through the feathers.

And then the crow caws in a starte and takes off as the generator behind them blows up.

“Bollocks!” David curses.

“Language,” Sally scolds half-heartedly.

“Let me show you a trick,” Ace offers to the teen, rejoining the group at the generator with Jake.

“Sorry I made yer mate fly away,” David mutters apologetically when they’ve all moved to the next generator, Jake sitting in the mud between Ace and David and playing with the sheep he made earlier. Jake shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” he says. Then he looks up at Ace. “Mommy never let me play with the bird,” he explains. “Said it’s dirty and will make me sick.”

“Well, you were really good with the bird and clearly have a talent. Why not use it?” Ace encourages. Jake smiles brightly and Ace’s heart swells with pride.

The last gen they need to complete is in the shack, and Ace asks Sally to keep Meg and Jake away as the worn building is full of rusty nails and splintered wood. It’s just him and David, and the teen isn’t messing up a single one of the wires this time.

“Yer awful nice to Sally,” David suddenly says.

“Well, she’s been a great help, even if I was skeptical at first,” Ace shrugs.

“Nah, I mean... Ya could’ve taken ‘er,” David says, somber tone in his voice. Ace peers over the generator in confusion, meeting the teen’s serious gaze. “She don’t have ‘er weapon or teleport. She’s just a small lass, no match for ye. Could’a easily had revenge.”

Something unpleasant twists in Ace’s stomach at the words and David’s dark expression. He’s not sure he likes where this is going.

“Not really my style to hold grudges; I’m a lover, not a fighter,” Ace tries to joke. “And even if I wasn’t... Attacking a defenseless woman? That’s beyond fucked up,” he says, frowning at David while trying to figure out what the other is getting at.

“I know,” David says with a frown of his own. “I was try’na say, you could’a, but you didn’t, an’... I respect ya for it,” he mutters the last part staring at the machine. Ace quirks an eyebrow; it seems like David wanted to... give him a lecture in respecting women?

“You know, if you want her to feel safe, maybe you shouldn’t have sexually harassed her,” Ace points out. David groans in embarrassment.

“I know, I was jus’ try’na get between you lot to defuse, an’... ‘m gonna apologize to ‘er,” David mutters awkwardly. Huh, that was a lot easier than Ace imagined. He thought teenagers were supposed to be unreasonable?

The last gen pops and they regroup with Sally and the two kids in front of an exit. While David is opening the gate, Sally hands Meg back to Ace.

“Daddy!” the small girl exclaims, smiling brightly while wrapping her hands around his neck.

“I usually hear that in a very different context,” Ace jokes, causing Sally to chuckle. Jake pulls on Sally’s skirt, handing her the pine cone.

“Thanks for borrowing mr. Sheep,” Jake says.

“Oh, what a polite little boy you are. So precious,” Sally coos, carefully accepting the gift and petting Jake’s hair fondly. Jake blushes and rushes to hide behind Ace, peeking out behind his legs to glance at Sally shyly.

As the exit doors slide open, Sally’s face twists into a worried frown. “Will you be alright?” she asks.

“I mean, even if the whole camp somehow turned young? I think I can handle it,” Ace says, tentative confidence in his parenting skills having built up during the trial. The most likely outcome is that the Entity will turn them right back after the trial, and the ones back at camp will be none the wiser. “Oh, uh. Thanks for the help,” he adds, remembering his manners.

“Don’t mention it,” Sally says, smiling.”It would be nice if this happened more often, where I didn’t have to—” she falters. Kill you, Ace supplies in his mind.

“Don’t worry,” Ace says. “We’re all just... doing our best.”

“I’m... glad you see it that way,” Sally says, looking down at the ground and nervously twirling a red lock between her fingers. Huh... is she—?

A small hand tugging at his own interrupts his thoughts, and he turns his full attention to Jake, who is looking up at him with big black eyes.

“Let’s go home,” Jake says, pulling on his finger towards the exit. Ace grabs his hand and smiles fondly. “You’re right,” Ace says.

“I, uh, Sally,” David hastily interrupts. “‘M sorry about... y’know, before—”

“Don’t worry about it, I know you were just trying to lighten the mood,” Sally says with a small smile. “And if you tried anything, I could still kick your ass into next year,” she adds innocently.

Ace chokes on a laugh, not expecting this side of the soft-spoken woman. Instead of being flustered, David looks... intrigued.

“Ya mean ya can still, like, carry us on yer shoulder...?” David asks curiously. When Sally nods, David’s eyes go wide and a flush spreads over his cheeks.

“Okay that’s our cue to leave!” Ace interrupts, not mentally prepared to hear any more about David’s apparent infatuation with strong women. “Come on, lover boy,” Ace nudges the teen into the exit.

“Gimme a few years, luv!” David hollers excitedly before disappearing into the fog after Ace.

And with that, they’re done with their strangest trial to date.

“I just had the weirdest dream,” Ace overhears Meg tell Nea the next day, a confused frown on her face.

“What about?” Nea asks.

“You remember how I’ve never met my dad?” Meg asks, and Nea nods. “Well, I dreamed that I did. I was really young, like still a baby or something, so it wasn’t really... lucid. I couldn’t understand what he said, but I remember his voice and like, his smile. He just held me in his arms and,” her voice cracks. “I just knew he’d never leave me.” She blinks some wetness from her eyes. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to start bawling—” she hurries to explain.

“No, it’s okay, come here,” Nea assures her friend, pulling her into a hug. “That sounds like a really nice dream. I’m happy for you.”

Ace feels his throat choke up as he watches a grateful Meg cry into Nea’s shoulder. He turns his focus back to shuffling the cards, thankful he’s wearing his shades as his own eyes start watering dangerously.

remember when i said “i’m gonna write shorter stories from now on”? sike

[lailaliquorice]

may we all be so lucky

We’re back babey!! I haven’t been able to write in a few months because I’ve been so busy with uni and theatre things but believe me I never left the fandom, I’ve still been stockpiling ideas and now my exams are over I’ve had time to write one at last. I’m amazed by how quickly I wrote this. Clearly I love these characters just as much as I ever did.

Here is some very soft Aragon as I’ve promised several people, going back to my routes and writing the mother/daughter aspect of Boleyn (no Aralyn today!). Two prompts combined for this one, the first from an anon being  “It’s icy outside– also, can you help me limp to the couch?” and the second from @impossibleclair being  'you look like you could use a hug'. Thank you both!!!

Also tagging @qualquercoisa945 bc I think Maria had an excitement  induced heart attack when I told them I was writing again. I love you sweetheart <3

Winter had always been a time of reflection for Catherine of Aragon. Not only did the Christmas period naturally bring around a time for reflecting on her religion and her relationship with Christ, since her second chance at life it had also become a time to reflect on her relationships with herself and those around her. Both Anne and Maria could attest that Catherine was a completely different person nowadays than she had ever been back then, something which she privately thought was for the best, and she knew within herself that she felt happier than she had ever felt in her old life. There were still days she thought she didn’t deserve it, but for the most part she was learning to take what God had been gracious enough to give her and simply enjoy it.

In terms of the friendships she’d formed in this life, it was even easier to see how different they were compared to before. Then she’d only had one true friend in Maria, without doubt the truest friend she would ever have in that life or any other, whereas now she could feel comfortable of her place in the circle of friends that had formed around her. That seemed to grow closer around winter too; everyone’s hearts were lighter, their smiles brighter, and she always wished those warm times could last forever.

There was one drawback to the cold spells though. Catherine had never quite adjusted her body temperature from the Spanish heat she hadn’t felt in centuries, and even though it was warm inside the cold outside their door wouldn’t let itself be forgotten about.

Upon opening the fridge door first thing in the morning, dressing gown wrapped tightly around herself like a shield against the cold kitchen, she didn’t bother holding in her groan at discovering they had no milk left. Her normal breakfast consisted of a cup of green tea and a bowl of porridge and that was hopeless if there was no milk, meaning she would either have to break the routine she’d had set in stone since barely a month into modern life or brave a frosty walk to the corner shop.

After pursing her lips and staring at the empty spot in the fridge door for a few seconds her decision was made. She let her frustration get the better of her for a moment as she gave the door an unwarranted slam, grumbling under her breath as she exchanged her dressing gown for a thick coat decided sweatpants were good enough to leave the house in that once. But she’d barely walked past the driveway of the house before her annoyance disappeared in an instant at the sight of someone heading towards her.

Anne was also wearing a winter coat with what looked like pyjama bottoms and a rucksack on her back, arms wrapped tightly around her torso and her head bowed against the wind. What worried Catherine more than the question of what Anne was doing walking home at a time she wasn’t normally out of bed though was just how she was walking; unsteadily, clearly favouring one leg and barely putting any weight on the other foot at all.

She looked up when Catherine called her name, the smile on her face not entirely succeeding in hiding the pained look in her eyes. “Morning!” she chirped brightly, attempting without much luck to walk normally now she knew Catherine was watching her. “What brings you out- woah-“

Catherine surged forwards to catch her as her bad leg gave way, just about managing to keep them both from falling down. “I think a better question is what brings you out here, and what in God’s name you’ve done?” she asked, her voice serious in the hope that Anne wouldn’t keep trying to play it off.

“It’s icy out here – also, can you help me limp to the sofa?” Anne responded with a sheepish grin.

Despite her worry, Catherine couldn’t help but laugh dryly as she nodded. Anne clung onto Catherine’s shoulder as she hopped alongside her on the thankfully short trip back to the house, clearly grateful for Catherine’s arm tight around her waist. Once Anne had been deposited carefully onto the sofa in the living room and their coats shed, her voice left no room for refusal as she asked “What really happened then?”

Anne shrugged. “Like I said really. Ground was icy, I didn’t notice, I slipped over and landed on my leg. And now my knee and ankle won’t hold up.” She eased her boots off as she spoke, moving painstakingly slow as she pulled her sock off to reveal a purple bruise already spreading across a swollen foot.

“That looks bad, you must’ve gone down very hard” she murmured quietly. She winced in sympathy when Anne rolled her pyjama bottoms to reveal similar bruises forming on the side of her knee. “Let me go and get the first aid kit, I’ll be back in a minute.”

She didn’t wait for Anne’s noise of acknowledgement before hurrying into the kitchen, keen to get an icepack on both injuries as soon as possible to hopefully keep them from getting worse. Her idea to make a hot chocolate for each of them was quickly ended when she remembered they still had no milk, the whole reason she’d been out in the street to find Anne in the first place, but still flicked the kettle on for her customary green tea.

The sound of the kettle boiling meant she didn’t hear Anne creeping into the kitchen until there was a loud thud behind her. Catherine whirled around expecting the worst, but was instead greeted by Anne gripping onto the worktop with her rucksack crashed onto the floor. “Sorry if I scared you, just had a wobble and dropped my bag,” she blurted out before Catherine could say anything.

“Fine, but please let me help you,” Catherine insisted, taking Anne by the elbow and leading her slowly to sit down at the table. A hint of amusement crept into her tone as she added “What do you have in that bag anyway for it to make that much noise?”

Anne brightened considerably as she pulled her rucksack onto her lap and unzipped it. “Milk!” she said triumphantly, pulling out a fresh carton of milk and setting it down loudly on the table. “I used the rest last night and knew you weren’t gonna want to go get more first thing, I know you don’t like the cold. So I thought I’d go get some before you woke up.”

Catherine was rendered speechless for a moment by how thoughtful Anne had been, before she gave her a warm smile. “Thank you,” she said genuinely, glancing towards the kettle as she asked “Now I can make us some hot chocolate if you’d like?”

“Yes please! You always make it best.”

The switch on the kettle flicked off just as Anne spoke, and Catherine took the milk from her before busying herself with finding Anne’s favourite mug from the cupboard and making both their drinks. She placed both of them down on the table beside Anne before she went back to rounding up medical supplies, eventually sitting down beside her with two ice packs and a few things taken from the first aid kit.

“Let me see?” she asked gently, helping Anne lift her leg to rest her foot in Catherine’s lap.

Anne was quiet as Catherine examined her ankle, barely a wince crossing her face as she carefully manipulated the joint to assess the extent of the damage. She just sat quietly sipping her hot chocolate, pale hands wrapped around the mug and her eyes never straying from Catherine’s hands.

Eventually Catherine was happy with her conclusion that it was only a sprain, humming contentedly as she picked up the jar of bruise healing balm that was in constant high demand in a house full of dancers. “Well I don’t think we’ll need a hospital trip this morning,” she joked lightly, not missing how Anne’s chest practically deflated at the news.

“Not broken?” Anne asked quietly.

“Not broken,” Catherine confirmed. After gently spreading some of the balm over the worst of the swelling, she wrapped an ice pack in a tea towel and secured it over Anne’s ankle with a length of bandage material before doing the same to her knee injury. “All finished. How are you feeling?”

Anne pulled a face. “Bloody stupid, that’s how I’m feeling.”

Smiling over the rim of her mug as she took a sip of her drink, Catherine shook her head in fond exasperation. “I meant how is your leg feeling,” she corrected, emphasising the leg as she pointed down at the puffy ankle still resting on Catherine’s lap.

“Oh. Hurts a bit but the ice is helping,” Anne said. There was a beat of silence before she added “Still feel stupid though. I wanted to surprise you and I would’ve gotten away for it too if it weren’t for that meddling ice.”

Catherine laughed at that, matching Anne’s triumphant grin with a beaming smile of her own. “It’s a good thing I’m here and not Jane or I doubt she would get that reference,” she pointed out, making Anne giggle too. Jane’s inability to grasp pop culture references was something they always lightly made fun of, though never without showing her what they meant afterwards.

Their laughter was interrupted with a gasp of pain from Anne as she unthinkingly jostled her ankle, Catherine placing a hand lightly on her shin to help keep her leg still. “Let me get you some painkillers,” she said, lifting Anne’s foot off her lap with the utmost care and placing it back on the chair before returning to the medicine cabinet.

Anne was silent as she took the painkillers with her hot chocolate, hiding behind her mug and refusing to meet Catherine’s eye. “Are you ok?” Catherine asked more seriously, not believing Anne’s quick nod in the slightest. “You look like you could use a hug.”

“Yes please.” Anne’s voice cracked with those two short words.

Careful not to knock her leg again, Catherine leaned down and let Anne throw her arms around her neck. She didn’t react when she heard quiet sobs next to her ear, just rubbed soothing circles into Anne’s upper back as she cried herself out. It was easy to comfort her as Catherine’s maternal instincts rose up and held the younger girl close to her chest; she wasn’t always the most tactile of the group, always wrestling with her physical boundaries, but when one of her family needed her she would always be there to provide whatever they needed.

“Sorry,” Anne whimpered after a while as she drew back, rubbing shaky hands beneath her eyes. “I just don’t like being in pain. It’s scary after… after back then.”

Kneeling down to place a comforting hand on Anne’s uninjured knee, Catherine nodded in understanding. “I know babes, I know,” she said soothingly, reaching up without thinking to catch the tears that continued to fall down Anne’s cheek. “But I’m here, and you’re going to be ok. Give it a couple of weeks and you’ll be good as new.” She knew Anne knew that really, but in her fragile state she also knew that the reminder would give her something to cling onto.

Anne nodded. “Yeah. Thank you.”

There was a shyness in Anne’s small voice then that was very rarely heard, and Catherine gave her a motherly smile. “You’re welcome,” she said softly.

Glancing at the kitchen clock, Catherine knew that they would probably have a couple more hours until any of the other queens came downstairs. It was their weekly day off which meant that only Jane and Catherine were usually awake before midday, but Jane had been harbouring the beginnings of a cold all week and was probably taking the opportunity for some extra rest and she had Anne with her instead. So she looked back over at Anne and suggested “Would you like to watch a film or two? We can get the blanket out and rest on the sofa for a while.”

It was a task getting Anne back into the living room without causing her too much pain, but after a few challenging minutes they were sat on the sofa with a favourite Disney movie of Anne’s playing and the thick movie night blanket spread over both of them. Anne hummed happily as she curled into Catherine’s side during the opening credits, prompting Catherine to wrap an arm around her shoulders and let Anne rest her head on her collar. It reminded Catherine of how she’d held Mary long ago, the pair of them watching a hunt from the window of their quarters, a rare moment where she’d been more like her current self than most people had ever seen back then.

As Anne’s breathing evened out indicating she’d fallen asleep, Catherine thought back to when they’d first been reincarnated and she and Anne could hardly bear to be in the same room as each other. Getting locked in the costume room together after a show by accident had finally made them break down their barriers and now they were here.

‘I don’t know how I got this lucky’, Catherine thought as she rested her head atop Anne’s hair, ‘but I wouldn’t change this for all the world’.

[lesbeet]

not to be a nerd but i accidentally just wrote a whole impromptu essay about editing ndjsdksksk im throwing it under a cut bc it's fucking inane and really long but honestly... i just want other people to become as passionate about editing as i am lmaooooo

i also recommend 2 books in the post so if anything at least check those out!

quality books about editing... *chef's kiss* a lot of the basic ones (including blog posts online n such) are geared towards beginners and end up repeating the same info/advice, much of it either oversimplified or misrepresented tbh. but i read one yesterday and i'm reading another one right now that really convey this passion for editing + consideration for it as its own sort of art and i just!!

it's such a weird thing to be passionate about lmao but i AM and i've spent a lot of time the past year or so consciously honing my craft (ik i mention this like 4 times a week i'm just really proud of how much i've learned and improved) and kind of like. solidifying my instincts into conscious choices i guess?

and these GOOD editing books have both a) taught me new information and/or presented familiar information through a new perspective that helped me understand something differently or in more depth, and b) validated or even just put into words certain preferences or techniques that i've developed on my own, that i don't normally see on those more basic lists i mentioned

btw the book i finished yesterday is self-editing for fiction writers: how to edit yourself into print by renni brown and dave king, and the one i'm reading currently is the artful edit: on the practice of editing yourself by susan bell.

the former was pretty sharp and straightforward. the authors demonstrated some of their points directly in the text, which was usually funny enough that i would show certain quotes to my sister without context

("Just think about how much power a single obscenity can have if it’s the only one in the whole fucking book." <- (it was)

"Frequent italics have come to signal weak writing. So you should never resort to them unless they are the only practical choice, as with the kind of self-conscious internal dialogue shown above or an occasional emphasis."

or, my favorite: "There are a few stylistic devices that are so “tacky” they should be used very sparingly, if at all. First on the list is emphasis quotes, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. The only time you need to use them is to show you are referring to the word itself, as in the quotes around the word “tacky” in the preceding sentence. Read it again; it all makes sense.")

and like i said, i also learned some new ideas or techniques (or they articulated vague ideas i already had but struggled to put into practice), AND they mentioned some suggestions that ive literally never seen anyone else bring up (not to say no one has! just that ive never seen it, and ive seen a lot in terms of writing tips, advice, best practices, etc) that ive already sort of established in my own writing

for example they went into pretty fine detail about dialogue mechanics, more than i usually see, and in talking about the pacing and proportion of "beats" and dialogue in a given scene, they explicitly suggested that, if a character speaks more than a sentence or two and you plan on giving them some sort of dialogue tag or an action to perform as a beat, the tag or action should be placed at one of the earliest (if not the first) natural pauses in the dialogue, so as not to distance the character too far from the dialogue -- bc otherwise the reader ends up getting all of the dialogue information first, and then has to go back and retroactively insert the character, or what they're doing, or the way they look/sound while they're giving their little speech

and like this was something ive figured out on my own, mostly bc it jarred me out of something i was reading enough times (probably in fic tbh) that i started noticing it, and realized that it's something i do naturally, kind of to anchor the character to the dialogue mechanic to make sure it makes sense with the actual dialogue

so like. ok here's an example i just randomly pulled from the song of achilles (it was available on scribd so i just looked for a spot that worked to illustrate my point djsmsks)

the actual quote is written effectively, but here's a less effective version first:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him. He’s done nothing to me," Achilles answered coolly.

see and even with such a short snippet it's so much smoother and more vivid just by moving the dialogue tag, not adding or cutting a word:

“Perhaps I would, but I see no reason to kill him.” Achilles answered coolly. “He’s done nothing to me.”

the rhythm of it is better, and the beat that the dialogue tag creates functions as a natural dramatic pause before achilles delivers an incredibly poignant line, both within the immediate context of the scene and because we as the readers can recognize it as foreshadowing. plus, it flows smoothly because that beat was inserted where the dialogue already contained a natural pause, just bc that's how people speak. if you read both versions aloud, they both make sense, but the second version (the original used in the novel) accounts for the rhythm of dialogue, the way people tend to process information as they read, AND the greater context of the story, and as a result packs significantly more purpose, information, and effect into the same exact set of words

and THAT, folks, is the kind of editing minutia i can literally sit and hyperfocus on for hours without noticing. anyway it's a good book lmao

the one i'm reading now is a lot more about the cognitive process/es of editing, so there's less concrete and specific advice (so far, anyway) and more discussion about different mental approaches to editing, as well as tips and tools for making a firm distinction between your writer brain and your editor brain, which is something i struggle with

but there have been so many good quotes that ive highlighted! a lot of just like. reminders and things to think about, and also just lovely articulations of things id thought of or come to understand in much more vague ways.

scribd won't let me copy/paste this one bc it's a document copy and not an actual ebook, but this passage is talking about how the simple act of showing a piece of writing to someone else for the very first time can spark a sudden shift in perspective on the work, bc you'll (or at least i) frantically try to re-read it through their eyes and end up noticing a bunch of new errors -

or she talked about the perils of constant re-reading in the middle of writing a draft, which is something i struggle with a LOT, both bc i'm a perfectionist and bc i prefer editing to writing so i sit and edit when i'm procrastinating doing the actual hard work of writing lmao

it's just this side of fake deep tbh but i so rarely see editing discussed like this--as a mixture of art and science, a collaboration between instinct and technique, that really requires "both sides of the brain" to be done well.

and because of the way my own brain works, activities that require such a balanced concentration of creativity and logic really appeal to me. even though ive seen a lot of people (even professional writers) who frame it as the creative art of writing vs the logical discipline of editing. but i think that's such a misleading way of thinking about it, because writing and editing both require creativity and logic -- just different kinds! (not to mention that the line between writing and editing, while mostly clear, can get a little blurry from up close)

but like...all stories have an inner logic to them, even if the writer hasn't explicitly or consciously planned it, and even if the logic is faulty in places in the first couple of drafts. when you're sitting and daydreaming about your story, especially if you're trying to figure out how to bridge the gap between two points or scenes (or, how to write a sequence of events that presents as a logical, inevitable progression of cause and effect), the voice in your head that evaluates an idea and decides to 1) go with it, 2) scrap it, 3) tweak it until it works, or 4) hold onto it in case you want it later? that's your logic! if an idea feels wrong, or like it just doesn't work, it's probably because some part of you is detecting a conflict between some part of the idea and the overall logic of your story. every decision you make as you write is formed by and checked against your own experiential logic, and also by the internal logic of your story, which is far less developed (or at least, one would hope), and therefore more prone to the occasional laspe

but while ive seen a number of articles that discuss the logic of writing, i don't see people gushing as much about the art of editing and it's such a shame

the inner editor is so often characterized as the responsible parent to the writer's carefree child, or a relentless critic of the writer's unselfconscious, unpolished drivel

and it's like... maybe you just hate thinking critically about your work! maybe you view it that way because you're imposing external standards too fiercely onto your writing, and it's sucked the joy out of shaping and sculpting your words until they sing. maybe you prefer to conceive of your writing as divine communication, the process of which must remain unencumbered by lessons learned through experience or the vulnerability of self-reflection, until the buzzkill inner editor shows up with all those "rules" and "conventions" that only matter if you're trying to get published

and like obviously the market doesn't dictate which conventions are worth following, but the majority of widely-agreed-upon writing standards, especially those aimed at beginners, (and most especially those regarding style, as opposed to story structure) have to do with the effectiveness and efficiency of prose, and, in addition to often serving as a shorthand for distinguishing an amateur from a pro, overall help to increase poignancy and clarity, which is crucial no matter the genre or type of writing. and even if you personally believe otherwise, it's better to understand the conventions so you can break them with real purpose.

so editing shouldn't be about trying to shove your pristine artistic masterpiece into a conventional mold, it should be about using the creative instincts of your ear and your logic and experience-based understanding of writing as a craft to hone your words until you've told your story as effectively as possible

thank u for coming to my ted talk ✌️

[jadelotusflower]

I loved your tags in that Merlin history (?) post and OH MY GOD YOU'RE RIGHT. I mean, makes sense since you've got dragons and magic, but I was still trying to place it in our own timeline. Which... I'm still doing. Curious... why you think it was without the Roman occupation? Lack of Christianity? Just lack of any reference in the show?

Ahhhhhhh, thank you for this ask and giving me the excuse to gush on this topic! Full disclosure, I’m not an expert in this time period so this headcanon is based on very general knowledge of British history and basic research.

Other than the presence of magic and dragons etc, the main reason I think the show is set in an alternate history/universe either (a) before Roman occupation or (b) where Roman invasion/occupation was never successful, is the very basic fact that they call the country Albion and not Britain, although of course this is not in and of itself conclusive seeing as the Roman name Brittania was probably based on the Common Brittonic Pritanī - but does imo indicate a shift from our own history particularly if we’re looking at a 5th/6th Century time period (although I suppose it could still work as a BC/BCE or early AD/CE setting).

The lack of Christianity is another reason - I suppose this was a showrunner choice to avoid the storytelling difficulties inherent in a Christian/Pagan conflict that they obviously weren’t interested in, although it always struck me as lazy strange that there was no “New Religion” (whatever it was) to counter the suppression of the Old Religion (which I’ve personally handwaved/headcanoned as Uther and other kings embracing secularisation for self-aggrandisement, and not a wee bit of misogyny given the matriarchal nature of the old religion). Which again, this works in a pre-Roman Britain, but not in a post-Roman Britain - even though Christianity may not have been the dominant religion in terms of practice, the complete lack of it doesn’t seem to square with our history/timeline.  

Also, it’s just the vibe I get from the show, it doesn’t seem like a society that has had a history of foreign occupation? The show is soooo insular, iirc there’s no indication that the people of Camelot are aware of the rest of the world other than the kingdoms of Albion? There’s no reference to the Roman Empire, to Gaul, not even to Caledonia/Scotland. I suppose we can assume there is some kind of foreign trade (vaguely referenced in The Castle of Fyrien), and of course there’s the Saxons as an invading force, but other than that Camelot and its surrounding kingdoms seem very occupied with one another, and not at all occupied with the world outside their borders that one would assume from a society that has been very recently garrisoned by a foreign power for several centuries. 

Having said that, I have always wondered about Camelot prior to Uther’s conquest - it’s not a crown he was born to, but one he seized. Who from? Where are the vestiges of the prior king/kingdom/culture that existed only a generation before Arthur’s time? The argument could be made that Uther took advantage of the power vacuum following Roman withdrawal and successfully purged it’s influence...which actually could work. Hmmm. 

Would love to know your thoughts!

[claymoreme]

For the Good of the Kingdom

Words: 4,469

Rating: M

You are a princess, betrothed to the neighboring kingdom’s prince. Your royal guard, Sir McIntyre, helps soothe your nerves before your wedding night. 

Author’s note: This is, uh, a really sexually explicit work of fiction. Reader has breasts and a vagina and is referred to as a princess/woman. Some characters are inspired by real-life wrestlers/personas, but are not meant to represent real people. Contains some initial non-con ish contact and a slight age gap (3-4 years in my mind. Princess is late teens/early 20s, McIntyre early-mid 20s.) Sexually inexperienced reader. Not super historically accurate probably. Drew wears a quilted gambeson/tunic, trousers, and boots. Similar to what Kit is wearing here minus the cloak.

I’m tagging @haigrr @writtingrose and also @writinglionqueen @superrezzy00 bc I have a feeling your whole crew might enjoy this and I love your work so lets be friends pls

ps. I have literally never written something quite like this before so uhh b nice thanks and enjOY

It was near impossible to sleep that night. Your round tower room was lit by the bright starlight pooling on your pillow. The moon added to the glow, shining through a pair of ornate arched windows on either side of your four-poster bed. Not only that, but the summer air was heavy with heat, making it impossible to get comfortable even under your silken sheets. Tossing and turning, you tried to allow yourself to relax, but your mind simply would not rest. Perhaps, if it was just the air and the light, you could have managed. But there was something else.

Tomorrow was to be your wedding day. 

Your home kingdom, Valaris, had been clashing with knight factions from the  neighboring kingdom of Saoma for almost a month now. Armies on either side had been caught in skirmishes and raids across the countryside. Your father had been in peace talks for days with the neighboring kingdom, and the two kings had at last decided to end the conflict and secure an alliance together. An alliance, of course, through marriage. The marriage of the Princess of Valaris and the Prince of Saoma. You had no fear of the marriage itself. As Princess, you would do whatever needed to be done to bring peace to your kingdom. Besides, Prince Rollins was, well, incredibly good looking. You had seen him from afar in parades, always looking dashing with his long chestnut hair, well kept beard, and impish grin. It was said he was an excellent warrior, and your ladies in waiting had assured you he would make a fine husband. But there was one thing you were still worried about. One thing that kept your mind awake and whirring. 

The wedding night. 

You had heard, of course, of the tradition of consummation. Every wife’s duty is to bear children. Every wife’s duty began on that night. Those ladies in waiting who had experienced it told you that, while the first time may be uncomfortable, even painful, it wasn’t too unpleasant. Especially if your husband was good looking. Still, it sounded... strange. You had had your first blood and knew your own body, knew well the sensitive spot between your legs, knew how good it felt to rub it until your whole body tensed and then went limp with pleasure. But you could not imagine anything… entering you. Not without pain. Even the few times you had tried with your own fingers had not felt particularly good. And a man was, according to your ladies, much bigger. It would hurt, you were sure. And to have a man so close to your body… a man you’d never even spoken to…

You sighed in frustration against your pillow. No use ruminating on it now. Duty be done, pain or no pain. Perhaps some reading would calm your nerves. At least give your mind something to focus on besides tomorrow night. 

Sitting up, you swung your legs out of bed and reached for your bureau candle. Nobody else could possibly be awake at this hour. In fumbling to light the candle stub however, you knocked a heavy book to the floor. The book thudded to the floor and the sound echoed like a thunderclap in the still night. Jumping to your feet, you bent down to retrieve it but it was too late. The door to your room swung open.

Sir Drew McIntyre, the head of the palace guard, stood towering in your doorway. That’s right. Father wanted security for my room tonight, just in case. Drew was the most capable fighter in the whole of the palace knights. And not only was he the best at combat, he was physically outstanding as well. At least a full head taller than you and probably thrice your mass. He wasn’t in full plate armor but still cut an intimidating figure, standing there in a dark quilted gambeson over trousers and shining leather boots, sparring gloves and a massive sheathed sword tucked into the belt around his waist. He went without a chest guard or helmet while on guard duty, preferring to keep his long black hair tied back with a simple cord. His solid jaw and chin were covered with a close cut black beard and accompanying mustache. Piercing, intense blue-gray eyes looked out from under a furrowed brow.

“Are you alright, Princess? I thought I heard a disturbance.” His voice was a warm Scottish burr, powerful and low.

“Yes, I- I mean no, no disturbance, Sir McIntyre. I’m alright. This just, uh, fell,” you stammered, picking up the book and place it back on the bureau. 

“Are you certain?” The large man moved forward into the room, allowing the door to close behind him, and began pacing the perimeter, double checking for any signs of an intruder. You sighed at your clumsiness. 

“Yes, Sir. Just some trouble sleeping is all.” You expected him to turn to leave, but he didn’t. Instead he strode over to the window and gazed out into the night. You decided against ushering him out. It’s not like you were going to go back to sleep. 

“What worries you, Princess?” He didn’t look at you. Just clasped his large hands behind his back and fixed his eyes out the window, watching. 

“It’s… it’s nothing,” you insisted, a slight tremor in your voice. It’s not that you were scared of him, exactly, after all, he was there to protect you. But men rarely, if ever, visited your chambers, and it was usually your father or some other guards. But Drew being here was… different. You had seen him about the palace grounds, even seen him training a few times. He swung a greatsword like it was a feather. Once, when out with your ladies in waiting on a particularly hot summer day, you had caught a glimpse of him in the training yard clad only in rough trousers and boots. Shirtless, tan, sunlight glistening off impossibly broad shoulders, dark hair lining his chest and trailing down towards the muscled V of his hips. His hair had been loose, hanging in a curtain around his face as his powerful arms swung his weapon with ease, leaving the training dummy in a broken pile on the ground. You had flushed, and not just from the heat. Your ladies in waiting had tittered and hurried you away. Not proper for ladies to stare at such things. Heat rushed to your cheeks now as you recalled the memory and you couldn’t help but cast a lingering glance at his clothed form now. You had only stared at him from afar, but now… now he was here, in your chambers. Turning away from the window to face you. He took a step closer, cautiously. Like he was trying not to startle you.

“Is it the wedding?” 

“Yes. I suppose… in a way.” You gulped down the embarrassed lump rising in your throat and lifted your chin upwards jutting your chin upwards in an attempt to show confidence. “But Rollins is a good man. I am more than ready to do my part in making peace.”

“He is a good man. And a good warrior. The alliance, of course, will be good for our kingdoms,” Drew agreed. He paused. “But you are the Princess. I was assigned to protect you tonight. I’m not leaving until it’s clear to me you are safe and comfortable. So what worries you?” You were unable to meet his eyes anymore. Those stormy gray eyes, so intense, and yet so… gentle. Concerned. You turned to face the window. I shouldn't tell him. Why would I tell him?  So incredibly improper to tell him, a man, a man assigned to guard you and nothing more, but the worry weighed so heavy on your mind that you couldn't stop the words from falling out. Something about the private stillness of the night and the man in your room, assigned to protect you. Nobody else would hear.

“Sir McIntyre… I have never been… with a man.. in the way that- that a man is with his wife. In fact I-” your entire face and neck were surely bright red now, “I… have never even… kissed a man.” The last few words were barely audible. Why am I even saying this? To the captain of the guard, of all people? Silence fell in the room for a brief moment until it was broken. Drew was chuckling to himself. Those handsome features, so often serious and focused, were cracked with a gentle smile. He has dimples. Not so scary after all.

“‘’M sorry, Princess, I don’t mean to laugh. I understand your apprehension. ” You do?

“I’m sure.. I’m sure you’ve.. well, I hear that knights… often h-have many women,” you finished in an embarrassed whisper.  Drew chuckled again. 

“Aye, I am… experienced, yes. And so I know that everyone has nerves their first time. ’S only natural to be nervous.” The two of you were silhouetted in the window now, facing each other. A foot away. Almost nose to nose… well, nose to chest, really. He’s so close. 

“I will do my duty of course. As a Princess and as a wife.” You swallowed again, your eyes dancing from his broad neck to his dark beard to his heavy brows, avoiding his eyes. “I am just afraid that, in terms of actually… being with my husband… I feel unprepared,” you trailed off, blushing. This room is stifling. “I don’t even… I don’t even know what a simple kiss feels like.” Your heart was pounding. Drew smiled softly, showing just a trace of his dimples. Those dimples… His eyes locked onto yours. Gray swirling fog. The room was silent for a moment once more.

“It feels like this.” 

And then warm lips ever so softly pressed against yours. His beard lightly tickled against your cheeks and you felt one large hand cup the side of your face, brushing back your hair. He’s kissing me. Sir Drew McIntyre is kissing me. It was so unexpected, such a new feeling, that you froze, unsure if you were supposed to kiss him back or even how to kiss him back. Sensing your stiffness, Drew broke the kiss. “Princess.. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He straightened up and backed away. You stood there, lips buzzing, head pounding, unsure of how to proceed. You knew it wasn’t proper. You knew a princess had to value her honor. And yet… It had felt so good. Good and gentle and right. 

“Sir McIntyre. Wait. Please.”

“No, Princess. I’m sorry. I should never have entered your quarters. I will find another guard to relieve me tonight.” He reached for the door.

“Please don’t go. Sir McIntyre… I… want you to stay.” He stopped at that, one hand on the door. Turned. You had no idea where this sudden confidence came from. There was something driving you towards that man. “I order you to stay.” The words crept from your lips as a whisper. His stormy eyes met yours. Clouded. Unreadable. 

“As my Princess commands,” he murmured, holding his ground. Your steps swiftly closed the distance between you two. Mere inches away from him now. Rising to your tiptoes, trying to get closer, to show him you wanted this. Your hands gingerly reached to his chest, splaying your fingers over the quilted cloth, feeling his heartbeat thudding under them. Drew obligingly dipped his face closer to yours, and this time it was you who leaned into him and joined your lips together again in a tender kiss. Large fingertips softly took hold of your hips as your mouth moved against his. He felt warm and gentle and good. You pulled away for a moment, breathless, lips burning. Without even realizing it, your hands had begun to pull at the laces of his quilted shirt. But a pair of powerful hands took your shoulders and pushed you away.

“Princess.” There was need in his stormy eyes even as he held you at a distance. “I cannot do this. You know as well as I that it is far from proper. You are to be married to Prince Rollins tomorrow. I cannot dishonor that.” He’s right. He is. And yet… Your stomach dropped at the thought of him leaving. You felt as if your blood was magnetic, pulling you towards him, yearning, needing to get closer to him. You wanted this. Damn being proper.

“I know. I just think… I think maybe my fears would be less if- if I knew… what to expect. For the good of my nerves. For… for the good of the kingdom.” Drew took your chin in one powerful hand and tilted it up, meeting your eyes with a serious gaze. His voice was a low rough rumble. Like it was hard for him to allow himself to speak.

“I… have always been in awe of your beauty, even from afar. I am sworn to protect you. I would never want to dishonor my Princess. But, if you truly desire… I could ease your fears tonight. Only if you want this.” Your heartbeat quickened and your breath caught in your throat. Holding his gaze, you nodded. 

“I want this.”

With that, he bent forward and enveloped your lips in another searing kiss. Your hands went for his chest once again and he chuckled, smoothly unbuckling his belt and laying his weapon aside before helping you undo the laces to his shirt. Clad only his trousers and boots, Drew was… magnificent. There really was no other word. Tanned skin and trails of dark hair rippling over chiseled muscles. You ran your hands across his heated skin, marveling at his physique, wordlessly tracing the dip of his hips. Drew sank down onto the bed and pulled you towards him. Another quiet chuckle graced his face as his big hands encircled your waist, guiding you in between his legs. He leaned his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, while the other began to drift lower, gently caressed your backside through your shift. 

“Is this alright?” You closed your eyes and nodded, breathing heavily. They moved lower, and lower. Began to toy with the hem of your shift that rested midway down your thighs. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt his warm fingers begin to slip underneath the fabric. “Is this alright?”, he asked again.  This time, you responded by kissing him. Kept kissing him. You wanted, you needed, to be closer to him. Tangling your hands in his long, dark, hair, you let Drew slide his hands up the sides of your body, taking your shift with them and pulling it over your head. You leaned into him, straddling his lap, your bare chests pressed together, heated skin on skin. Settling down, you could feel a straining bulge in his trousers. A wave of heat stirred in your belly. One large hand gently brushed up your side to softly cup your breast. “You are so beautiful,” your knight murmured into the crook of your neck, before trailing kisses all the way down your chest. Rolling one of your nipples in his flushed lips, grazing it ever so slightly with his teeth. His beard tickled against your bare skin. Then in one swift move, he scooped his hands underneath you and spun you around, dropping you delicately on the bed.  

Your breath grew shallow and quick as Drew lay you out on your back and knelt over you. Will it happen now? Drew must have noticed your increased anxiety. He kissed you gently, and murmured into your ear. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’m going to help you get ready. If you want me to stop… just tell me. But,” he smirked, “I think you’ll enjoy this part.” He pressed his lips to yours once again, slightly open, hot breath ghosting into your mouth. He peppered more kisses down your jawline, moving smoothly down, sucking and nibbling small love bites into the delicate skin on your collarbones. Drew slid off the edge of the bed and kneeled, curling his broad arms around your hips and sliding you towards him with gentle force. His face was now situated directly between your legs. You looked down at the man nestled between your thighs and felt a wave of embarrassment. You must look so unappealing from this angle. But the Scotsman between your legs didn’t flinch. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh. Just seeing him there, eyes heavy with desire, his massive arms curling around the outside of your legs, fingertips digging into your skin to gently pry hold your knees open… your core quivered. Drew slowly laid a kiss on the inside of your thigh. Such sensitive skin. Another kiss. Another. Oh god, he’s moving closer. The ladies didn’t mention anything like this. 

And then you felt his hot breath directly on your sex. Even just him breathing there somehow felt better than you had ever felt touching yourself. When his mouth finally touched you, you let out a moan. Any self conscious thoughts fled your mind, replaced with sheer pleasure as his lips caressed your most sensitive spot. Gentle suction between his lips made shivers of electricity run all through your body. Sucking and licking and stroking. His tongue running softly between your slick folds. Your own fingers couldn't even come close to this. It felt so good. And god, you were starting to ache. Ache in ways you’d never felt before, your body yearning to feel him on the inside. You groaned out loud as his tongue dipped towards your entrance, and his lips curved in a smile. Obligingly, he pressing his tongue just slightly into your hole. Oh, god. That was what you needed. More of that. Tentatively, you rolled your hips towards him and let your legs relax open. He was right. You were enjoying this. Finally rising up and resting his head against your thigh, Drew looked at you with heated eyes. His lips were flushed and his bearded chin was shiny and damp. He spoke in a rough whisper. 

“Princess. I’m going to use my fingers now. You tell me if anything hurts.” You nodded, still reeling from how good his mouth had felt. Drew once again dipped between your legs. His rough beard gently scratched your inner thighs as he placed more moist kisses on your sex, his tongue dancing around your entrance before being replaced with one of his fingers. Gingerly slipping it inside of you. It felt.. strange but good. Like your insides were craving to be touched. Slowly, his finger moved in and out, curling, stretching you slightly. Another pressed against your entrance and slid in easily. Like you were made for this. You whimpered as the stretch of a third caused a twinge of pain. Drew gently kissed the crease of your thigh and slowly curled his fingers, massaging you just right and your back arched of its own accord. How could this feel so good? You clenched around them out of sheer need.  All thoughts of being proper were gone from your mind. 

“Do you want to keep going?” You sat up slightly and nodded with no hesitation. You had never been more sure of anything in your whole life. Drew rose from his kneeling position at the foot of the bed, bulge in his trousers even more prominent than before. He unlaced them and slowly pulled them down until he was standing there, fully naked in front of you. You blushed as you stared. Good lord. How will that ever fit? His cock stood out proudly from his body, long and hard and glistening. Dark hair clustered around the base. He gazed at you laid out on the bed, legs open for him, and one hand began to stroke his thick shaft. “You look amazing, Princess.” His deep voice was heavy with desire. So do you, you wanted to say, but you couldn't form words. Drew climbed onto the bed between your legs. Nestling back on his heels, his muscular thighs were on full display, as was his erect cock. It throbbed against his toned hips. You juices still lingered on his lips, adding a slight tang when he leaned forward and kissed you. Leaning his body ever closer to yours. Apprehension must have shown in your face for he gave a gentle smile. “I’ll go slow. If you want to stop, tell me.”

His strong hands eased your knees up onto either side of him. He took care to give his fingers some extra slick from his mouth before reaching down and slipping them through your warm folds once again. Making sure you were nice and wet. Making sure you were ready. Then he bent down, leaning his forearm next to your face and pressing another warm kiss to your lips as he positioned his cock between your legs. You felt the head nudge ever so slightly against your entrance, sending a shiver through your body, and looked up into the Scotsman’s eyes. He didn’t ask aloud this time. But his eyes told you that he would stop if you asked, that he was here for you, that he wanted to make sure this was your choice. You nodded. Your whole body thrummed with need. Holding your gaze with his, Drew shifted his hips and slowly began to press forward. Oh god. What if it doesn’t fit? He still felt wider than your entrance would allow. But Drew had made you so wet that his cock slid easily into your waiting heat. Gently, slowly, he eased his way inside you. And it felt so good. As much as he had prepared you with his fingers, Drew’s cock stretched you further still, with a twinge of pain but so much pleasure. Your head hung back as a guttural sound escaped your throat. Drew must have felt the same way, as he let out a long exhale, muttering a curse under his breath. He pressed a bit deeper before stopping and allowing you to adjust. You felt so full. His eyes had grown dark with lust and he placed another searing kiss against your lips as he slowly withdrew his cock before thrusting into you once again. Oh god, Drew… He was stretching you so deliciously around his thick cock. Rolling his hips forward and back, in and out, nudging slightly deeper each time, making you his. Your hips tilted on their own, opening up for him. Taking him in to your wet needy heat. Breathing heavily. Drew pumping in and out so slowly, so gently, strong arms on either side of you caging you in, his body pressed against yours. It felt so good. Like nothing you could ever have imagined. You wanted more.

“I… I want you to go deeper,” you half moaned, half panted to the man above you. Drew gave a devilish grin and bucked his hips up into you with more force than before and you could feel his cock driving deeper. Touching you in places you’d never been touched. Your moans and nods telling him it was okay, it felt good, you wanted this. You clenched around him instinctively and he breathed in sharply. On the next thrust, his shaft pressed against something on your walls that felt amazing and you couldn't help but cry out.

“There?” he asked, not slowing his strokes.

“Y-yes, right there, Sir McIntyre, I-”

“Drew.” He growled into your ear. The sheer intensity in his voice made your whole body quiver. He angled his hips slightly and began to pick up speed, pounding into just right. Your legs wrapped around his broad back, bringing him in as close to you as possible. 

Drew buried his face in your neck and covered it in kisses, his beard running leaving tiny lovely stings on the sensitive skin. His hands fisted in your hair, grasping it until it hurt but you didn’t care. One of your hands tangled in his own long dark hair as the other scrambled along his back mindlessly, leaning tiny scratches of their own. He was relentless as he continued to pull out and drive back inside you. The sound of skin on skin filling the air, Drew’s hips colliding with yours, balls heavy and slapping against your ass. Hitting you just right over and over again each time until you felt your pleasure coming to a peak deep in your belly, your walls starting to clench on his cock of their own accord.

“Drew I- I- oh, God…!”, words failed as you spasmed around his cock. Electricity flooded your veins and your body clenched, every nerve buzzing with pleasure. Drew let out a drawn out groan as his thrusting slowed, wet heat seeping from the tip of his cock so deep inside your belly. You were seeing stars. A long moaning whine escaped from your throat as you came down from your high, panting, blood pounding in your ears. He gave a few more lazy thrusts before withdrawing himself, leaving you feeling so empty after being stuffed full. You were both panting. He rolled off of you onto his side and left one broad arm draped across your heaving chest. 

“Well, Princess,” he asked after you had both caught your breath, “Did you enjoy that?”

“I didn’t know I could feel that good.” Another of his low chuckles. Good lord, his dimples. Now there’s a sight I wouldn’t mind waking up to. 

“Aye, as it should be. Get some rest,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before rising to pull his trousers back on. “I ought to head back to my post. And, Princess,” He added before he turned to leave, “if you can handle me… you'll be ready for Rollins.” The mention of your husband-to-be barely registered. You only cared about the fact that Drew was about to leave. You wanted to protest, make him stay here with you, fall asleep nestled against his broad chest with a pair of strong arms wrapped tight around you… But you knew how it would look. You’d been improper enough tonight. Right now, sleep was calling.You sighed and fell back against the silk pillows, body still thrumming with the aftershock of your orgasm, tiny shivers running through your veins. Drew cast one last look at you as he turned to exit the room, watching you lazily drift into velvet sleep. He didn’t say anything. But his eyes, usually so stormy, were calm water on a cloudy day. He smiled, showing a hint of his dimples. Then he closed the door. 

You slept like a babe that night after all.

[livvywrites]

wip: three birds

so this is an old WIP that i’ve been thinking about again?? it was actually a fanfic when i first started thinking about/writing it, but... it’s canon-divergent/au enough that i want to turn it into my own thing. so i’m still in the process of doing that, but, i’ve gotten enough down that,,, i think i’m ready to talk about.

it’ll be a long time before i write this bc Metanoia is taking pretty much all of my attention but!!! i still enjoy thinking about it & i kinda wanna gush about it, y’know?? so!!

the working title is three birds, though i’ve also been playing around with the last time. three birds is a little more fitting, though. mostly because i want my three main characters to have nicknames after birds.

it’s a romantic fantasy/fantasy romance, more than anything, though i definitely want to add some conflict in there.

under a cut because this is kind of long!! AND tagging two people who showed interest :D

@idreamonpaper & @writinginslowmotion

the main protagonist’s name is Inalyn Keets. she often goes by “Ina” for short, or by “Sparrow,” a nickname who’s origins i’ve yet to figure out. she’s a half elven mage.

the country/empire that she’s from, though, sees mages as subhuman. the government rounds them up as soon as their magic presents it self and takes them to various “compounds” where they’re raised to be used as soldiers/healers for their armies. which, in turn, allows them to expand their borders and gain more power/influence.

her magic presented itself when she was a little older. as did that of her best friend, Corbin Anderson. Corbin, often known as Hawk, and she actually met after both of them had been rounded up and were on their way to the compound. they bonded during that trip. even though both of them were afraid, he made her laugh, and feel so much less alone. they’ve stuck by each other ever since.

Corbin was from one of the countries that her country had conquered/added to the empire. his father had actually turned him into the soldiers, in hopes of getting compensation from the government. (which both he & Ina’s family did get.)

because both of them were older (Ina was 12 and Corbin was 13) they were among the few their age to actually remember what the outside was like. and neither of them ever stopped wanting to get out--to do something other than become soldiers or tools for the government to use. Ina wanted to wait. to get the training the government offered and then slip out, use it against them and hide away somewhere they could never find her. Corbin wasn’t as patient, and he was constantly escaping. and in turn, getting punished for it.

as such, the other friends that Ina made weren’t very fond of Corbin. he wasn’t fond of them either, though he never told Ina not to hang out with them. Ina didn’t really care what her other friends thought, though. Corbin was her best friend--and, when she grew older, also her first love.

unfortunately, relationships are discouraged in the compound. friendships were allowed, as it made for better teams, but romantic relationships (or sexual relationships) were considered a hazard, and so forbidden. that didn’t stop Ina and Corbin from sneaking around, though. (they had rules, though. they were too afraid that romance would make it too hard to keep from blowing their cover; would make it so that staying inside the compound was too unbearable. they swore off saying ‘i love you,’ even though both of them felt it. they kept it light. casual.)

sadly, though they had a good run of it for a while, eventually it got to be too much for both of them. to almost have it, but not quite... it was just. it was a lot. combined with Corbin’s repeated escapes---and then him being dragged back and punished, more and more harshly each time... it was. it was something they mutually decided they needed to wait for. they remained close friends, though.

and then, when Ina was 21 and Corbin was 22, Corbin managed to escape. he escaped for an entire year. it was the longest he had ever been gone, and for a while, Ina dared to hope that he would make it.

he didn’t.

they dragged him back, and decided that this time; this time they would make an example of him. they decided to throw him in solitary, and keep him there for as long as he had been gone.

Ina was horrified. she knew the possible consequences of keeping someone in solitary for a year. luckily, though, during her early days of exploring the compound, she’d discovered a secret passage down to the prisons. she was able to sneak down there every now and again and visit him.

for eleven months, that’s what she did.

and then, she was approached by one of her other friends, Rian. Rian had a problem. he had fallen in love with one of the Wardens--their guards--and she for him in turn. they wanted to escape. to live a life on the outside, where they didn’t have to worry. they had a plan to get out--but they needed a third person to pull it off.

Ina agreed. she told Corbin what was happening, and promised to meet him “on the other side.”

unfortunately, though, both she and Rian had been duped. the Warden was using them to cover up a crime that she and her actual lover (another Warden) had committed--knowing that they would never be believed over one of the Wardens. they were going to be executed, or perhaps locked away in one of the special mage prisons... until one of the Vigilant stepped in.

the Vigilant were an ancient order devoted to protecting this world from evil. right now, i’ve got the “undead” as the main problem they face, but i may change that. they reserve the right to conscript people, & are often used for places that some criminals can get a “second chance.” the Vigilant had come to find recruits for his order... and he found them in the form of Rian & Ina.

on the way to where the army had gathered, he told them that there had been recent sights of a Rift, and that the Vigilant had assembled alongside the Emporer’s army just in case there was something bigger on its way. however, the Vigilant’s numbers had thinned out recently due to some problems in the south, so they were bulking up.

once at the camp, they were introduced to some of the other recruits. both those who had already been initiated, and those who had yet to be initiated.

among those already initiated was Theron “Finch” Jamison. (another name I’m considering for him is Finley/Finn!) Theron had the natural talent of a Warden, who could suppress magic if they focused their will. he hated the lifestyle, though, and did everything that he could to make himself as undesirable as possible. it worked. so much so that when the recruiter came around looking for someone, the teachers told him not to even consider Theron. but, of course, he was recruited away.

he’s been a member of the Vigilant for six months now, and he’s assigned to watch over a handful of recruits--including Ina & Rian.

Ina finds him charming, and even a bit funny, but she’s wary around him due to his past. they get to each other a bit before the initiation, and Ina does warm up to him some, but she’s still wary.

the initiation, though... it’s rough. i haven’t figured out all of the details yet, but it’s something that not all of the initiates survive. Ina survives--but Rian doesn’t. on top of that, she finds herself... changed by the initiation. more sensitive to the dark forces present in the world. more attuned to other peoples auras, able to sense intent. her eyes have also changed. they’re now a shade of gold that almost glows in the dark--much like every other Vigilant she’s met.

Ina doesn’t have much time to recover from the pulsing headache or soreness, though. the grief hasn’t even really set in yet when the alarm bells ring. the people assemble. the Vigilant who recruited Ina & Theron tells them to start rounding up the servants and other non-fighters. they didn’t expect to be swarmed at their own camp.

unfortunately, though, things don’t go as planned. the camp is overwhelmed. Theron and Ina fight for as long as they can--and they expect that to be the end.

but then. they wake up.

they were saved by a mysterious woman who lives in the surrounding wilds. she’s part of a coven of magic users who escaped the government’s thrall & have made lives for themselves outside the empire’s borders. however, the arrival of rifts & the undead has thrown everything into disarray... and she wants to help stop it, instead of cowering in the forests. so. now she’s babysitting a couple of Vigilant.

(why them? they were the only ones she could save.)

& thus begins a long journey. not only do they save the empire & make several friends in the process, but... Ina and Theron fall in love. she resists it, really hard, at first, because she always imagined having a life with Corbin. but... she has something with Theron, something she can’t ignore. and when everything is dark, when everything is burning, when the whole world is falling apart--Theron is there, and she needs that.

when it’s all over, Theron & Ina stand before the emperor himself. he thanks them for saving the kingdom, and he promises them a handsome reward. however, his hands are tied, as many people aren’t happy that it was a mage who saved them---or that a mage is now in charge of the new Vigilants. so. to reward them but also to make the people happy, Ina is awarded a fortress for the Vigilant to build in and grow... but it’s a fortress on the edge of the wilds, near a teensy farming village.

it’s something, though. it’s freedom, really, so Ina is happy with it.

they’re joined by a dwarf named Saeora, whom they met during the course of their travels. Saeora wants to join them and become a Vigilant--a request Ina is happy to grant.

of course, when they get there... everything is in disarray. there’s something out in the Wilds terrorizing the locals; the fortress is half-falling apart; and... well. there’s a disgraced son of the previous lord locked in the dungeon, alongside a pair of elven twins, and a very familiar mage.

after some discussion, Ina decides to induct them all into the Vigilants.

but there’s still the matter of the town to save, and a fortress to rebuild. oh. and figuring out how she’s supposed to manage her love for two different men.

well. okay. Theron has a solution for that third one. polyamory. but there’s still some balancing to be done to make everything work--and Ina is going to do her damnedest.

[petersmparker]

Clutch pt 4 (Peter Parker x Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Following Mr. Stark's advice, Peter decides to take a chance on the friendship he wants so badly.

Word Count: 1432

A/N: I finally got out of the fuckin wifi-less woods only to have my laptop shit itself so if there are any ugly errors in this bc of the fact that I had to use my phone pls forgive. don’t forget to let me know if you wanna be added to my tag list!!

INTRO PART 1 PART 2 PART 3 PART 4 PART 5 PART 6 PART 7

You're still staring up at him from the ground of the alleyway when Peter shoves his phone back into the pocket in the waistline of his suit. The expression on your face has gone from shocked anger to vaguely-amused surprise. People glance curiously around you from the main sidewalk as you wave the bottle above your head teasingly, in one hand, the other holding a brown paper bag. When he finally untraps himself and manages to pull together his nerve, Peter jumps down from the fire escape. The movement is followed with your eyes, and when his feet hit the concrete, you take a step forward. You hand him the now-empty bottle. 

Peter rubs the back of his head uncomfortably as he takes the container from you. Your shoes and pant legs are wet from the impact. With the cooler fall weather, he imagines that the feeling of wet denim isn’t pleasant. You follow his gaze to your feet and attempt to tap the water off of your sneakers. When you look back up to his face, he realizes that it’s been an absurd amount of time for him not to have apologized yet.

“I’m kind of the biggest moron, huh,” he says in lieu of an apology, astounded by himself.

You let out a surprised laugh. Peter's heart leaps in his chest.

“If we were rating morons based on clumsiness, I don’t think the web-swinging, wall-running, urban-parkouring superhero Spider-Man could be classified as the biggest.”

“I beg to differ,” Peter responds, throwing the bottle into the nearest dumpster, “You don’t have to live with him.”

“Fair point,” you  agree, “but it’s not like I’ve been given the opportunity.”

The way you smile throws a wrench in his heart’s ability to function. He’s quick to try to dismiss the look, knowing that he’s probably overthinking your lighthearted comment. Part of him worries that he overthinks everything you say.

You look curiously up to the fire escape where he’d been sitting. Gesturing up to it, you ask, “What were you doing up there before you decided to throw trash at me?”

He elects to disregard your phrasing to save himself from having to acknowledge just how embarrassed he still is. “I was taking a break to have a snack.”

“And the whispering?”

“That was Mr. Stark,” he says before nervously adding, “Did you hear me?”

“Nope. No worries. When you say Mr. Stark-”

“Yeah. I mean that one.”

Your eyebrows rise. It occurs to him that most people aren’t aware of Spider-Man’s connection to the world-famous Iron Man. His growing popularity came purely from his daily crime-fighting and well-doing. After all, Peter had managed to escape the events of the snap without too much attention drawn to him by the media. He’s sure that most don’t even know he was involved in the fight to begin with, despite the fact that, technically speaking, he’s an Avenger. One that operates separate from the group, but still no less. In spite of his desire to become a big name in superheroing like his idol, he was comfortable with the anonymity this afforded him. It allowed him the possibility of a few more years of normalcy outside of being Spider-Man.

You nod approvingly. “That makes sense. You’re an impressive guy. If Iron Man didn’t have you in his ring, that’d just be questionable.”

It kind of feels like the wind has just been knocked out of him. Peter knows that you can’t see his pleased smile, so he attempts to make up for it with his tone when he says, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Of course.” You stick your hand into the bag to grab yourself a french fry, before offering him the bag.

He glances at the surroundings, considering. While you were receiving a few curious looks here and there, Peter prides himself on being the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, and it isn’t out of the ordinary to see him stopping to converse with civilians. However, that doesn’t mean it would be smart to lift his mask to eat with an audience on every side. It would be a dumb risk. Realistically, it hadn’t been the best decision to have done it previously around you, even, but. . .

It was too late to go back on that crush-influenced decision. He might as well take advantage of it now.

Peter nods his acceptance of the offer, but when you hold out the bag further, he gives a quick nod upward. “Not here,” he explains, quietly, “Take the fire escape to the roof. I’ll meet you up there.”

He takes an indirect route to swing his way up so as not to arouse any possible suspicion. Because of this, you make it to the roof before he does, and by the time he arrives you've taken a seat on the air conditioning venting. You pull your feet up to sit with your legs crossed, and set out two containers of fries on a couple of napkins. Peter takes a seat next to you, but straddles the vent so he can face you. He laughs when you greet him with a teasing, “Took you long enough.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he sighs, taking off his glove and lifting his mask over his mouth so he can eat a fry. “You just happened to have two orders of fries?”

The reddening of your face is so pretty that Peter's breath catches. You push your hair behind your ear with your free hand. “I see you around a lot more now, don’t I? So, I kind of figured that it can’t hurt to be prepared in case you make an appearance. And hey, if you don’t show up, I can just give them away. Or eat them.”

Peter grins. “Looks like I need to start contributing to the snack fund, then.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you assure, rotating yourself to face him. “I’m happy to have the company, especially just for the cost of a dollar menu fry.”

His smile softens as a bit of concern builds in him. Tentatively, he asks, “You know I don’t just talk to you because you give me things, right?”

“I hadn’t been too concerned about it. It’s nice to hear confirmation though. Either way, I guess it’s just cool to have someone around. Thank you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, of course. I really like having you around, too.”

The stare you settle Peter with is simultaneously comforting and unsettling. While your gaze is decidedly soft, his skin begins to heat and tingle. Though he knows you cannot conceivably see his eyes through the mask, he finds himself feeling like you're staring past his eyes and into his thoughts. I like you, he thinks, on the off chance that you're doing the impossible, I like you so much.

His thought goes without response, as expected. However, the absence of it isn’t felt too strongly. Peter is happy to dwell upon the pleasantness of your meeting as you share the snack and exchange jokes and stories. Long after the fries have been eaten and the trash crumbled into a ball, you stay. When the space between them is cleared, Peter takes the opportunity to casually scoot ever-so-slightly closer. Maybe he imagines it, but he thinks that perhaps you do the same thing.

When the sun starts to set, the orangey glow illuminates your hair with gold and accentuates the sparkle of your eyes. He had left his mask up to allow you to see part of his expressions, but when you finally state that it's time for you to go, he pulls it down over his mouth. You doesn’t pause in her speech as you reach over to smooth down a wrinkled portion of the mask.

For a long moment, your hand settles against his Peter's jaw. He stares, dumbfounded, at your affectionate expression until you excuse yourself and start to climb down the fire escape. Your goodbye echoes around him, covering the sound of his own within his mind, and he sits on the vents for several minutes in a stupor as he thinks about the feeling of your palm against his face.

It's nearly the perfect end to the day. Peter's first time seeking your friendship without humoring his guilt, and he gets to go home with the feeling of your hand still burning into his jaw. What more could he have asked for?

The sound of gunshots cut through Peter's euphoria and shake him back into reality. He jumps from his spot, his heightened senses alerting him to the direction of the crisis, and gets back to work.

Tag list

@undiadeestos @moonstruckholland​ @deathofthethrones​ @souvenirsvisuels​ @legendarydazekitten

[thehyperkraken]

EDIT: yall idk why the actual fic isnt showing up in the tags but this shit is, bc thats literally the opposite of what i wanted, but for the love of god read the fic first and/or instead, that’s the thing i spent more than 20 minutes on: [link]

Hey random idea dump for that one fic i done did yeehaw... it’s almost longer than the fic itself but jesus christ i need to get these ideas out of my head and throw them into the internet ether, seriously don’t read this its a goddamn mess

So ghjkdf the actual plotty part of that fic came from that one b99 bit... the Bone one.....u kno

Arthur: Come on, Dutch. The O'Driscolls thing isn't the problem. You're in a bad mood because you've been so busy planning this heist that it's keeping you and Hosea apart. You two just need to bone. John: Oh no... Dutch: ...What did you say? John: Don't say it again! Arthur: I said you two need to bone. John: Oh my god... Dutch: (with barely contained fury) Hhhhhow Dare you Arthur Morgan, I am thIS GANG'S LEADER!!! You have NO RIGHT to comment on my sex life— (5 minutes later) Dutch, standing on top of a table screaming: BONE?!?!?! (10 minutes later) Dutch: What happens in my bedroom, son, is NONE of your business— (20 minutes later) Dutch, jumping up and down on the table: BOOOOOOONE!!!!!!!!! (40 minutes later) Dutch: And don't EVER speak to me like that AGAIN! (storms off) John, sunken down in his chair in horror: Why the hell did you do that? Arthur: (shrugs) They need to bone. John: Gross, Arthur! That's our dads!

And then like a day later gfdhkg

John: Oh hey Dutch! I know you don't want to talk about Hosea, BUT, I had an idea— Dutch: No need, John, it's all good. John: So... your fight with Hosea is over? Dutch: Yep. John: Because you finally figured out a plan for the heist...? Dutch: Nope! Arthur, excitedly: Because you guys—? Dutch: Yyyyep! Arthur, looking smug: Knew it. John: Ugh... Arthur: (leans down close to him) See, what happened is, our dads had sex— John: UGH, SHUT UP!

Another inspiration I had was John Mulaney’s bit about zoning out for John with adhd,,,,, the part where he’s like “the doctor was reading me the results of a blood test, it was IMPORTANT that I LISTENED, but NO, I zoned out, I was like, I’m just gonna stare at the wall and think m’thoughts” that’s why I wrote the part where John was like “ehhh attention deficient something something disease” bc it made me laugh gjhggdjh

Dutch: so the doctor says you have ADHD John: (thinking about minecraft) what?

Also unrelated but blease consider Arthur teaching John to drive like

Arthur: are you watching the road? John: ........I am looking through the windshield Arthur: John: .......and I’m not gonna hit anyone...... Arthur: John: ....but no. I’m thinkin’ about minecraft

(Also I don’t know anything about ssb I’ve played it once and hated it, minecraft is my og video game love, but Abigail beating John at ssb is funnier, I’m a fake gamer boy :^( rip)

ONE MORE INSPIRATION THAT ONE VINE ITS MY FAVORITE VINE

Arthur: are you drinking coke for breakfast? John: yeah, what did you have for breakfast? Arthur: ........nothing John: (sipping his drink) I’m doing better than you, then

Anyway onto ACTUAL IDEA STUFF HOORAY

So when Dutch and Hosea decided to adopt, they agreed they wanted to take in kids who needed good homes the most, so they were specifically looking for older kids who would probably age out of the system and wind up on the streets

They met Arthur who was a clearly depressed and gender non conforming thirteen year old who hated everyone and everything and wasn’t getting the Love he Deserved, and Dutch was like “I want THAT ONE, with the SAD EYES”

Arthur tried to push them away at first, cuz he absolutely didn’t trust anyone, and some part of him believed they’d just give him right back up for adoption if he disappointed them in any way. But he eventually learned that they were good guys who really just wanted to help him, and they weren’t gonna abandon him if he wasn’t the perfect kid they always wanted

(he probably told them about this fear eventually and Hosea just snorted and was like “if we wanted a perfect kid we woulda got a cabbage patch doll. something that wouldn’t scream or make a mess” and Dutch was like “yeah! or like a 27 year old with a job and their own house and kids of their own. pre-made grandkids” and Hosea was like “or a cat” and Arthur was like “...okay”)

Anyway it took a loooong time but Arthur eventually trusted them enough to come out to them as trans, without really knowing the proper words for everything, just knowing that He Is A Boy And That’s That. As much as Hosea is the one the lads go to to talk about stuff and get comfort and Wise Dad Advice, he probably told Dutch first bc he was more uncertain how he’d respond and he wanted to get it over with in the worst way possible.... like, if they were gonna react badly, heap all the bullshit on in one fell swoop

I imagine he did it off the cuff too, in response to something Dutch said, like Dutch was like “u get back here right now young lady” and Arthur was like “first of all I’m not a lady, I’m a BOY, and second of all FUCK you, I do what I WANT” and Dutch was like “groovy. you’re grounded.” Arthur was like (offended) “don’t say groovy... don’t try to be hip” and Dutch was like “no it’s totally tubular that ur a boy. It’s absolutely funky. You’re fucking grounded though”

Then he went and told Hosea like “congrats! it’s a boy” and they helped him transition and they didn’t tolerate a single person misgendering him the whole time. Like before he’s even begun transitioning, they’re literally at the doctors office to discuss it w/ their doc for the first time, and a nurse is like “ms. morgan?” And Dutch is like “INCORRECT” and the doctor is like “what seems to be the problem (deadname)?” and Dutch is like “FOOL! THIS CHILD WAS LABELED INACCURATELY, WE REQUIRE A GENDER RETRACTION” and Hosea’s like “please stop yelling”

Anyway probably about a year later they got John when he was ten and Arthur was fifteen. Arthur was a little bit jealous like, wow, am I not enough kid for u, but Dutch and Hosea always planned on getting at least two bc they wanted them to have siblings, and they know John came from a pretty abusive situation, so Arthur can’t be too mad at him. At least until he met John and realized what a fucking brat he is

Since John was younger and way more desperate for affection, he immediately loved Dutch and Hosea just bc they were nice to him, he was ready to call them his dads within the month but he was nervous that it was too soon and they’d be weirded out. But I imagine he got triggered by something and had a meltdown and they got to see just a glimpse of what he’d been through, and Dutch and Hosea were falling over themselves trying to comfort him and tell him they love him and now I’m making myself cry :’^(

Anyway... from that point on John was like “these are the only dads I’ve ever had and I would kill a man for them.” He gets in trouble quite a bit bc he’s Naughty, but Dutch and Hosea always make sure to punish him fairly and never yell or be physically intimidating with him or permanently take away his stuff, like they make him do chores to earn back the right to use the xbox or something. And they always explain to him exactly what he did wrong and why he’s being punished and talk to him about how he can make it better or what he can do next time, or if there’s a root problem, like he’s acting out bc he’s overwhelmed with school work or smthn, how they can help him. Especially after he gets diagnosed with ADHD

And of course they do all this with Arthur too, but they make a special concerted effort with John bc he’s The Baby :^) and Dutch somehow maintains an attitude of “idk what ur talking about, John has never done anything wrong ever in his life” every time he gets in trouble meanwhile Hosea is like “what do you MEAN, he’s a GREMLIN” fjfjfhhf

Arthur was probably diagnosed with depression and anxiety at some point... it was probably a long process to get him to even admit he had a problem bc he didnt wanna bother anyone... Arthur also probably came from an abusive situation from the way canon Arthur talks about his dad, but Arthur is much more the type to be like “i’m gonna keep all my feelings inside, and then one day, i’ll die” whereas John is like “i will SCREAM if i get a papercut”

[EDIT: i woke up in a cold sweat at 4 AM with this in my head so now i’m putting it here

Charles: So, Arthur... Do you wanna talk about your feelings? Arthur: No. John: I do! :) Charles: ...I know, John. John: I’m sad! :) Charles: I know, John.

i’m sure it’s been done before but it’s so good. ok now back to our regularly scheduled programming]

In regards to Arthur being trans, John doesn’t really Get It, Arthur tried to explain it to him once and John couldn’t care less, all he knows is Arthur used to be a girl or something, there’s tea involved probably, and John is thinking about minecraft again... he has 2 am thoughts about it sometimes and comes to Arthur like “what IS gender” and Arthur’s just like “hm. big mood”

Dutch is “Dad” and Hosea is “Papa” or “Pa” or “Pops” or “Dad, No Not You, The Other One” or “Other Dad.” Hosea really doesn’t mind at all, he wouldn’t care if the kids called him Hosea or mom or anything else, it truly isnt important to him. But Dutch Loves being Dad. Every time they call Dutch Dad he grows three times stronger and 10 years are added to his lifespan. Dutch is an Alpha Parent, he 100% goes to every parent teacher conference and bake sale, he’d go to every game and concert too if either of his kids had a single athletic or musical bone in their dumb little bodies. I guess the school probably hosts art galleries sometimes to display art the kids make, Arthur always has a drawing in one of those, and Dutch will absolutely go just to brag about his cool son.

Dutch is the Fun Energetic Dad who embarrasses the boys in front of their friends but can always be talked into taking them out to get ice cream. Hosea is the more quietly anxious dad, he makes sure they do their homework and keep their rooms clean and shit, and he's the one the kids always go to talk to when they’re having problems... like Arthur will rant for an hour and a half about high school drama and Hosea will patiently listen to all of it and when he's done he’ll offer to kick the other kids’ asses for him, and Arthur’s like lmao but Hosea Means It.

Hosea is also the one the kids go to for help on their homework because Hosea and Dutch have five brain cells between them, and four of them belong to Hosea. Dutch is like “suddenly I don’t remember basic math, time to make shit up” and Hosea is like “I must become an expert on 1820s Chinese history in two days for my beautiful sons”

I have NO idea what either of their jobs are, I wanna say Hosea is a lawyer or smthn but idk, Dutch is probably like......................a used car salesman LMAO...... they clearly make a lot of money (or maybe STOLE SOME) bc I gave them a huge house w/ a pool gjhkdhg

Anyway more about THE KIDS

They go to a school that is a combination middle school and high school, bc that’s what my school was like

Mrs. Grimshaw is the strict and irritable principal with a secret soft spot for kids, Mr. Pearson is the cafeteria cook, Strauss works in the office, I wanna say Rev. Swanson is a weird but friendly janitor or something lmao. Uncle is Dutch & Hosea’s annoying forever-drunk neighbor who everyone barely tolerates fjfjhfh

Micah is The School Bully but like bc this is a cutesy high school au and I can do what I want, he’s not actually like a violent racist or anything he’s just a bad mad sad kid who is a huge dick

Bill is Micah’s Bully Henchman, he’s generally not as much of a dick as Micah is, but he punches whoever Micah asks him to bc they are the closest thing to friends that either of them have

Trelawny is a new student who just moved from another school and he’s that fucking Weird Magician Kid who can’t hold a conversation longer than five seconds without saying “wanna see a magic trick,” tried to do some unimpressive card tricks for the school talent show, unironically wears a cape, etc.... Arthur stood up for him when he was getting pushed around by Micah and Bill so now Arthur has +1 more weird friend

Karen is the Popular Girl who somehow knows everyone, is probably a cheerleader, everyone is either extremely intimidated by her or thinks she’s gonna be a stuck up bitch, but she’s actually just super fucking chill and nice, WILL stab a man for her friends, she won’t hesitate bitch

Tilly is Karen’s bff who was getting bullied by *shakes fist* those dang foreman brothers.... Karen stood up for her and Tilly was like “no don’t u will get hurt!!” and Karen was like “ha... fool... cheerleaders cannot die” and whooped ass with her gymnastics skills and somehow got the foreman brothers expelled. So now Tilly is like “I owe u one (1) Life Debt” but Karen is like “nah it’s chill just come to target w/ me & we’ll call it even.” Tilly is just tryna get shit done and do her damn homework but everybody else is going on adventures and being nuisances so of course Tilly has to go too bc come on....... who do you take her for, some kinda two-bit GEEK? NO WAY

Mary Beth is a quiet nerdy girl who’s always reading or writing and never talks in class or anything. Karen and Tilly became her friends thru sheer brute force, Karen just sat by her one day n was like “sup” and Mary Beth was too shy to ask her to leave. They were surprised to discover Mary Beth is actually pretty nice and funny when you get to know her and also the Biggest Lesbian Alive

Sadie is a BAD BITCH... NOBODY fucks with Sadie, not even Micah, Sadie is the girl who when some dipshit boy spreads a rumor that he had sex with her, she agrees and tells everyone she pegged him and he cried after, she hasn’t given a fuck since 2007. she climbs on the roof to get lost frisbees. one time she got the gym coach to agree to give her an automatic A in the class if she did 100 push ups in 5 minutes. Then she Did That. She might have pulled several muscles in both of her arms but She Did That. Karen, Tilly, and Mary Beth (but mostly Karen) approached her like “damn that was sick” and Sadie was like “yea i know” and then they were friends

I literally don’t know anything about Sean I’m sorry...... maybe he’s a transfer student who becomes friends with John, they play Minecraft together and Sean boobytraps the houses John builds. Sean is the only living human being who understands how redstone works and he uses his powers for evil

Molly is going to a nearby community college and is working at the high school part time as a TA and she is like 19-20 or smthn so the kids all think she’s The Hottest Shit,,,, like they think she’s just the coolest hippest person alive, but also she is Very Attractive so fuckin everybody has a crush on her, most specifically Javier and Mary Beth. She ineptly tries to flirt with Dutch every time he comes to a parent teacher conference bc she’s dummy thicc and thinks it’s friendship goals that Dutch lives with and has adopted children with his Best Bud Hosea

The teacher Molly is TA for is Charles Chatenay, an all-grades art teacher who takes his job WAY too seriously, like dude chill they’re high schoolers. His class is where Arthur met Albert, bc Arthur loves drawing and obviously Albert loves photography. They were both like “wow he’s cute” but were too shy to talk to each other for more than basic pleasantries, until one day Albert’s Big Project was ruined a day or two before he was gonna turn it in, and Arthur helped him fix it.

They’re so sweet on each other it’s unbearable, they’re both Soft Boys so they fuckin blush if they make eye contact...... the most bold either of them get is when Arthur is feeling insecure about his body and Albert gladly tells him how perfect and handsome he is in every way, and he wishes he was half as gorgeous as Arthur is, and Arthur is like (offended) um, excuse me, how dare u insult my beautiful boyfriend in this way?? They both wanna grow beards so while they’re still going thru Changes they excitedly bond over their facial hair......... they run up to each other at school like LOOK AT MY NEW CHIN HAIR and the other one is like WOW!!! GOOD JOB

Javier has a big lovely family who spoil him rotten and tbh love to spoil his friends when they come over too, his parents are in a constant and devastating game of dish-gifting with Dutch & Hosea, Arthur and John have eaten more of Mr. & Mrs. Escuella’s tamales than any other food, neither Dutch nor Hosea are very good cooks but luckily Javier has plenty of aunts and uncles and cousins who are happy to occasionally take one of their unimpressive lasagnas or cakes from a box mix

Lenny’s cool dad in canon is the high school au dad of Charles and Lenny, he and Charles’s mom amicably divorced and he got remarried to Lenny’s mom, who is a Cool Stepmom to Charles. Charles and Lenny go stay with Charles’s mom all the time, in fact she was around so much when they were younger that she practically helped raise them both. maybe she gets a gf and Charles and Lenny have so many moms and are so loved & cherished like they fuCKIN DESERVE

Kieran is the weird horse girl at school, he’s Lenny’s age, they become friends when they’re forced to sit next to each other and they’re both too awkward and shy to say anything until they’re paired up on a project together bc everyone else in the class already paired up and they were the only ones left gjkhfd.... John wants to dislike Kieran bc Lenny is HIS friend now, but Kieran is a sweet lad with a mean dad.... His dad is Colm O’Driscoll, Dutch & Hosea’s other neighbor and Dutch’s sworn enemy

Dutch expects Kieran to be as shitty as his dad, but he is a SWEET BOY, and as soon as they realize his situation, they tell Kieran he can come over whenever he wants and spend the night any time, he doesn’t have to ask or anything, but Kieran is super respectful and always asks permission and always tries to come over when John or Arthur are there so he can go under the pretense of hanging out with them, bc he doesn’t wanna intrude...

Once he came over when Hosea was the only one home and he was like “hi Mr. Matthews are John and Arthur home” and Hosea was like “no sorry they’re out” and Kieran was like “oh... ok sorry I’ll just go then” and Hosea was like “absolutely not” and brought Kieran in and made him snacks and wrapped him in many blankets and watched a kids movie with him until he fell asleep on the couch... when Dutch came home he was like “??? new son ???” and Hosea was like “yea I guess. oops”

When Kieran gets older they help him become an emancipated minor and get a job and his own place (even tho he knows they’d let him stay with them if he wanted) and he changes his last name to his mom’s maiden name Duffy... Colm and Dutch glare at each other over their fences and Colm is like “enjoying stealing my son?” and Dutch is like “my son now” but Colm really doesn’t care bc he’s an asshole... and even tho they don’t legally adopt him, Kieran’s like “I’m more of a Van der Linde than an O’Driscoll” and oops i’m making myself cry again :’)

And yes Abigail does eventually teach John how to play stupid super smash bros. She’s Pro Gamer level of competent at nearly all video games and John has the biggest heart eyes for her, the end thank u for listening