#pretty sure like half the fandom does it lol

[nightmareinfloral]

impersonation: DICK WHAT R U DOIN BABY BOY. And also can I do it too?

That’s me 😔😔

[x]

[moonstruckmoony]

A Ravenclaw Lunch 🦅

Drew some of my favorite Ravenclaws on this platform. Although one isn't necessarily a Ravenclaw. (@traceyc-uk I genuinely thought he was a Ravenclaw when I first saw him lol but I saw your comment reply somewhere that your first playthrough was Ravenclaw so I think this counts… a bit? 😂)

This post is basically a peace offering (and a love letter) bcs I want to make more Ravenclaw friends 👀👉🏻👈🏻 definitely not because I'm obsessed with you guys' MCs

I swear it was supposed to be a silly doodle at first but idk how or when down the line but somehow it turned into this mega drawing. Took me weeks to finish it. I’m not happy with a few technical things especially lights and shadows… and some other things as well but I leave it be bcs I’m aware that I’m still learning 🥲 The rest I’m pretty satisfied with, I’m just happy that I got to finally finish this.

Front row (left to right):

Violet and Pearl Castellar by @vienguinn Omg HAPPY BELATED BELATED BIRTHDAY TO THESE BABIES! These 2 are some of my favorites and everytime you post I always open my phone real quick, your short comics are my comfort 🩵

Clora Clemons by @choccy-milky I cannot not draw Clora?!!?! I consider you a legend in this fandom tbh 👑 also I want to thank you bcs your fic and illustrations literally helped me go through my stressful period when I was at my lowest bcs of my new demanding job that I started half a year ago. I look forward to your post everytime and your Clora and Seb always heals my soul 😭🩵💚

Sally Salamander by @siboom777 Sally is just so wacky and unapologetically herself and I love her for it 🩵 Does she take commissions for toys tho?

Marvin Jerry by @runicxraven MY LOVELY SILLY ADORABLE LITTLE NERD 💗💗💗💗 I need more Marvin in my life honestly.

@najiang ‘s MC - I’m so so sorry I didn’t draw her full face😭, I tried my best to show her face as much as I can while still looking like she’s taking those sausages haha. But anyway please know that I love your art so so much and I kept going back to the curry one and the one where MC came across Amit with beard as adults (that one is hilarious). Idk if your MC has a name or you left it nameless? I assume it was the latter but if she has one I’d love to know!

Faustine Daemon by @faustinio27 Hey, a fellow INFJ! Winter is the same 🩵 I really love her story and especially her personality character sheet, you drew her expressions really well and I’m a fan!

Back row (left to right):

Oliver Lennox by @pixie-dustss Handsome boi 🥰 We’re friends already (I hope I’m not the only one who thinks that way 🫢) from TikTok and you made me a video for Secret Santa last year and I just found out recently that you’re on Tumblr too so I want to say thanks by drawing Oliver! 🩵🩵🩵

Aurélie Collins by @morelikeravenbore I loove this look for Aura, she just looks so chic with the hat and scarf 😭🩵 Sassy Ravenclaw bebe 🥰 My Winter has some French heritage (the lore is still rotting in my notebook bcs I haven’t had the chance to draw her family members 🥲) so I do hope they can be friends and Aura would teach her French bcs she can’t speak much of it 👉🏻👈🏻

Alistair Dusk by @speedysart Surprise! You commented on my last speedpaint on Tiktok yesterday and I want to spill this art so bad but I was almost done so I kept my mouth shut haha. I love the pretty boi’s hair and piercings, and the fact that you chose this blazer for him, I just love it he looks so dapper in that 😣🩵

Eleonora Russel by @zordanna I love sweet Eleonora and her fascination with the moon and stars 🩵🌌 Oh and I kept coming back to your “I feel like an orange” Tiktok bcs it’s so fluffy and it heals my stress… also I adore your art it’s super soft and painty and delicate 🥹💗

@traceyc-uk ‘s MC - YOUR MC. I SWEAR TO MERLIN HE’S ON MY MIND 24/7 LATELY. Not sure why, it’s probably bcs I kept re-reading your comics. Also bcs he’s an adorable little golden retriever (but also a fierce cat!😼) You’re super talented in drawing comics and facial expressions, I have a lot to learn especially in terms of layouting… last time I made a comic I hated the layout and the fact that it looks stiff to me, so your comics has been such an inspiration!

[incognitonoggin]

Hi hi!! I saw your ask box was open in your bio and wanted to request for solivan:3

So my request is: solivan with a gender neutral reader who basically thirsts over him><!! And justs randomly sends him songs with a text saying"how I feel abt you" and it's just a random song like emo boy🤭 (from ayesha) but only over text says the freakiest shit

Anyway this is quite long sorry abt that

Good night/evening/morning drink and eat well!!❤

hihihi!!! tysm for the ask anon and ty for the kind words 😪🩷🩷🩷, pretty sure this is an accurate representation of how half the fandom would treat him lol <3

THIRSTY Y/N X SOL HEADCANNONS

SFW (?) IN SOME AREAS SUGGESTIVE

GN!READER

INCLUDES : SOLIVAN BRUGMANSIA

• It's almost 9PM on a Friday. you and Sol were texting each other when you suddenly said; "we should meet up sometime this weekend so we can get 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂..."

• okay but deadass I'm like that to my crush, I know how it is 😪🩷

• he gets easily flustered by your messages, especially considering you can't see his reaction !!

• Sol looks at and notices every little thing you say and mention to him, and if you've seen the ending to day one then yk what his freaky self be doin when he gets your texts😭

• he's been called emo before by a bully or two, so when you say he reminds you of a song that literally chants "fuck me emo boy" he starts wondering if being emo is that bad

• ALSO PLS THE WAY HE'LL START BLUSHING AND STUFF AND THINKING THINGS LIKE "Does Y/N actually want me to fuck them???". It's gonna do things to him when you suggest wanting that, especially when you're consistently simping over his poor soul !!

• Sol might send you a teasing text back if he's feeling bold enough. for example, "Do you really want that?" orrr "I wouldn't mind that" 🤧 HE CANT BE THE ONLY ONE BEING FLUSTERED HERE

sighhhhhhh😓 ty again for the request anon!!! i feel like i put too much personality into this one, and it might be distracting or hard for people to read, so in the replies / comments lmk if youre fine with that or if i should just continue to write more professionally ✨💖

[swift-creates]

category: Gen

fandom: Batfamily

characters and relationships: Dick Grayson and Jason Todd - platonic, some batfamily

warnings: blood and injury, fight scene, mention of gun and knives, minor swearing, a bit of unhealthy thought processes but mostly bc he’s dazed and out of it, present tense

Summary:

@ailesswhumptober Day 31: Panic attack, facing a phobia, “You need to get out of here!”

Jason is injured during a battle, but Dick can’t protect him forever.

notes: fucked around and wrote a fic based on this drawing by @ashrayus as one does (I didn’t really know how to end it so just. have this lol) (also sorry if it’s OOC)

—

Dick has always been scared for Jason. That’s his baby brother, his Little Wing, the shadow at his back. Save for the broken time where he’d abruptly become an only child, Jason has always been there, and Dick has come to expect he always will be. Jason is older now — he’s the Red Hood, Gotham’s most feared crime lord, and is capable of single-handedly taking down some of the worst rogues in the gallery — but he will always be Dick’s little brother. Dick rarely has reason to be scared for Jason these days. 

Except for the times when he watches Jason stumble and finally fall to seemingly endless hordes of enemies, bleeding from a bullet to the gut. 

“JASON!” All strategy and codenames get thrown out the window, and he fights his way to his little brother, throwing a smoke bomb for cover and pulling him to safety. “Jay, look at me.”

“Ngh… Don’t need you to save me, Big Bird.” Jason tries to glare at him, but the effect is somewhat dampened by the way he doubles over in pain and leans into Dick’s arms. “Y-You need to get out of here.”

“Yes you do, and I’m not leaving you behind, dipshit.” He half-supports, half-carries Jason out of the alley, ignoring the strangled sound of pain he makes (or attempting to, anyway). He leaves the fight behind, and keeps going until the distance is between them is enough for him to feel comfortable setting Jason down against a wall. 

Jason’s black-and-white curls stand in stark contrast to the grimy grey-red as he grimaces, head tipped back against the brick. Dick smooths them back from his face more by habit than anything else. “Shhh. You’ll be okay, Little Wing.”

He knows it’s bad because Jason doesn’t object to the nickname. 

“Jay?” His brother’s eyes are fluttering closed, and he’s slumped against the wall, the hand held over his wound starting to loosen. Dick clamps one of his own in place of it, swearing. “Jay, if you die again without paying back the ten bucks you owe me I’ll resurrect you just to kill you myself.”

“Mmh…” is the only reply, and Dick can feel him slipping away — not again not again not again God please — despite every attempt to rouse him. Making this situation even worse is the slowly increasing volume of the mob catching up to them. He grabs a roll of gauze from his belt and quickly wraps Jason’s torso with it, then stands with both escrima sticks in his hands. 

There’s blood leaking from a cut on his cheek, and he’s pretty sure his nose is broken, but he’ll die before he lets them hurt Jason again. 

They come on in a rush, almost falling over each other in their attempt to reach two weakened vigilantes. He sweeps one aside, slams another into a wall, hits the first one with a stick and lets him fall to the ground, unconscious. The movements become instinct, strategy turning to survival, as they flood the alley, reaching to him, past him, their guns and their knives all hungry for blood. He barely dodges one bullet, feels another graze his thigh when he turns to swipe at a girl with white-blonde hair and a switchblade in her hand. He can’t go on like this forever. He has to. 

He’s reeling from a hit to the side of his head, about to lose his balance, when white smoke rises around them. Dick almost collapses to his knees in relief, but he makes himself stumble back to stand over Jason as familiar figures drop from the shadows and create a circle of safety in the chaos. 

“He’s here,” he whispers to Jason. “You’re safe now.” He curls up next to his brother, exhausted and bleeding, and pulls him close. 

Of course, that’s when a man with a gun decides to level it straight at Dick’s forehead. 

He grips Jason tight and glares at the guy, one stick left in his hand, trying to remember where he’d dropped the other one sometime during the fight. When, not if, the guy shoots, he’ll twist to shield Jason with his body, just in case his aim is wildly off. One bullet each seems to be fair. 

His finger tightens on the trigger, and Dick tenses, ready to move. 

Then a black shape slams into the man, sending the bullet careening into the darkness and the guy careening into the ground. Few have seen the Batman’s fury unleashed, and even fewer experienced it, but this unlucky sap will most likely remember this for the rest of his miserable life. He’s tossed to the side like a rag, and B makes a beeline for his boys. 

“Dick. Jason.” His hands search for injuries even as his eyes flick anxiously up and down them, the only outward sign of his worry. 

Dick melts gratefully into the embrace. “We’re okay. Barely.” All he wants to do is sink to the ground and be cuddled and carried back to the Batcave, but he can’t rest yet. “Jason — he got hurt. Bullet wound. I bandaged it, but…” 

“We’ll get him home.” Bruce kneels by Jason’s side, gently calling his name, but there’s no response. So what does Bruce do? Obviously he goes and scoops up all two hundred pounds of Jason into his arms and carries him away to the Batmobile like he weighs no more than Damian. Cass appears out of nowhere to support Dick, and he leans against his sister with a grateful smile. 

[cha-melodius]

Can I request firstprince alternative first meeting in Rio for your fandom fest? Thanks! ❤️💙

(Yes, I'm still working on these! I'm guessing this isn't exactly what you had in mind when you sent in this prompt, but it fit in very well with the Olympics, and it IS a (very) alternative first meeting lol. I hope you enjoy!)

Tonight, You're Gold

(M, 6k, read it below or on AO3)

Henry wasn’t expecting the Rio Olympics to be particularly eventful, all things considered. These weren’t his first games, after all, and if he’s honest with himself, he’s not a favourite in the men’s Laser sailing fleet this year. Coming back from a knee injury has been hard, and he’s proud of what he’s achieved this season. If he can make it into the medal race, he’ll be ecstatic. Mostly, he’s been enjoying the experience. Enjoying watching the different sports. Enjoying the city of Rio. Enjoying the other athletes.

As one does.

Normally, he wouldn’t have gone out tonight, but Pez had cajoled him into it, saying even if he wasn’t going to find a hookup he could at least take his mind off his impending first-round race rather than stewing alone in his room. Henry had to admit he had a point. That was before this, though.

One minute Henry’s listening to a ridiculously gorgeous American beach volleyball player with big brown eyes and eyelashes that would be a handicap in many sports complain about how his room was the victim of catastrophic flooding thanks to a burst pipe, and the next, all of his common sense simply deserts him.

“…and Liam ended up finding a place with this diver named Spencer, but I got fucked over because the only extra bed right now is with Hunter,” the American, whose name is Alex, is saying. He pushes a mess of gorgeous dark curls back from his face, only for several of them to flop back and curve just under his ears, framing a jaw that could cut glass. “Who— I mean, you don’t know him, and you should be thankful for that because he’s insufferable. But the real problem is that he snores like a chainsaw, so how the fuck am I supposed to get a decent night’s sleep?”

“You could stay with me,” Henry says before he can properly think it through. Across from him, Alex raises his eyebrows. Christ. In for a penny, in for a pound. “Only, my roommate’s already done competing, and he’s moved out. So I have an extra bed.”

Alex laughs, his curls bouncing as he shakes his head. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to just move into Team Great Britain territory.”

Henry shrugs and takes a sip of his mocktail—he’s not dumb enough to drink with a race tomorrow, even if he is dumb enough to make this suggestion. “Given the revolving doors on some of these rooms, I don’t think you’ll draw much attention.”

Henry should know, after all. He’s had more than a few overnight visitors since Basil finished on the second day of the games. It’s been incredibly convenient having a room to himself—Fabrizio the Italian gymnast had been a highlight, to say nothing of half the Dutch rowing team—and now he’s about to give that up for a mouthy American that he’s pretty sure is straight. Because he’s a bloody idiot, apparently.

“I mean, people would probably assume…” Alex trails off, the darkening of his cheeks obvious even in the low light.

“That we’re fucking?” Henry finishes bluntly, and Alex chokes on his drink. Definitely straight, then. Pity. “It's true, they might. I understand if those kinds of rumours are not something you’re willing to risk.”

For some reason, that makes Alex look slightly stricken. “No, I mean, I don’t care if a bunch of random athletes think I’m queer. That’s not, like, a problem.”

“So it’s just me that’s objectionable, then,” Henry quips.

Alex is stunning when he laughs. It’s becoming a whole problem. “Have you seen yourself?” he scoffs. “Fuck, man. I should be so lucky.”

Henry only narrowly resists suggesting that he could be. Even if he thought Alex would be interested, he’s offering a place to stay. Not a quick shag.

“I should… probably get to bed. Races start early tomorrow,” Henry says, offering a little smile. “The offer stands, if you decide you need a break from the chainsaw.”

Alex draws his full lower lip through his teeth, which is supremely distracting. “Fuck. We do have a match tomorrow. And it’s against the Italians who are fucking good this year.” He squints sceptically at Henry. “Are you sure you don’t mind? You just met me. For all you know, I could fuck up your sleep.”

It’s insane to say he almost wouldn’t mind, so he doesn’t. He thinks it, though. “I doubt you’ll be worse than my roommate at the London games. And if you are, I’ll just kick you out.”

He says the last bit with a teasing smirk, which makes Alex laugh again, and Henry knows already he has no hope of surviving this man. Perfect. Just what he needs while he’s competing on the world’s biggest stage.

~~~~~

Alex is a wonderful roommate, as it turns out, which is lovely but also terrible. He’s considerate about noise and the odd hours they all have to keep between training sessions and competitions. He’s a chaotic whirlwind, but he’s also incredibly organised—“My brain is enough of a mess,” he’d told Henry on the second day—and always knows where everything is at any given time. He always makes sure there’s hot water in the kettle for Henry’s tea whenever he makes himself yet another no-doubt-coach-unapproved coffee. He’s an excellent conversation partner whenever their schedules line up, but he seems to intuitively know when Henry needs some time to himself. Today, he woke up before Henry’s third day of opening series races to hype him up, even though he had no reason to be up that early.

That’s not even considering what he looks like when he comes out of the shower with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist and water dripping from his curls onto some of the most well-sculpted shoulders Henry’s ever seen.

Henry is well and truly fucked.

“Hey, do people watch you guys compete?” Alex asks as Henry goes through his pre-race morning routine. “Do you have spectators?”

Henry hums, sipping his tea. “Not really. Most of the courses are barely visible from shore. They’ll put us reasonably close in for the medal race, but it’s still not much to see.”

“That’s the 15th, right?” Alex says, looking to Henry for confirmation even though he’s clearly already pulled the schedule up on his phone. “Maybe I could swing that. Our game should be late. You know, assuming we make the quarterfinals.”

Henry doesn’t quite know what to say to that. No one comes to see him compete, primarily for the aforementioned reasons of it not being the most scintillating or comprehensible sport to watch in person. Bea, at least, watches the televised races where the cameras, graphics, and commentators make it much easier to follow and texts him about a hundred times saying things like I can’t believe that asshole crossed in front of you and that Australian fucker stole your wind, which make him laugh as he reads through them once he’s back on shore.

“You don’t have to do that,” Henry demurs. “It’s really not worth it. Plus, I might not even make the medal race.”

“You will,” Alex says confidently, even though he knows next to nothing about sailing or Henry’s capabilities. Henry’s done pretty well in his first four races, but there are still six to go. “And anyway, it’s not really about watching the race. You guys deserve to have people to support and cheer for you too.”

Henry’s throat is tight. “Right, well, one step at a time,” he mumbles. Best to change the subject. “Tell me about your match today?”

Alex smiles like he knows what Henry is doing, but he lets it go, and Henry spends the rest of the time before has to depart for the race listening to Alex go on about digs and float serves and line shots. It’s a surprisingly effective way of soothing pre-race jitters and getting out of his own head, even if it’s one he knows he shouldn’t get used to.

~~~~~

Henry’s not sure he’s ever watched a beach volleyball match before, which was clearly a significant oversight on his part. He is sweating and not only because the sun is beating relentlessly down on him as he sits in the stands. It’s certainly not helped by the USA’s uniforms, which feature shorts a full hands-breadth shorter than seemingly any other team’s and vests with deeply scooped arm holes. Alex’s teammate, Liam, is wearing a white ball cap, but Alex has eschewed a hat, instead pushing his curls back from his face with a blue elastic hair band, which is more endearing than it has any right to be.

“Christ, would you look at his arse,” Pez says appreciatively from his position at Henry’s side as Alex leans over with his hands on his knees.

“You say that like I’ve been able to look anywhere else,” Henry returns. There’s no shortage of hot people in minimal amounts of spandex at the games, yet the way those shorts cling to Alex’s arse is somehow more tantalising than all of them. “I’m convinced he was specially sculpted by the gods explicitly to torment me.”

Pez tsks and slants a sideways look at him. “Still haven’t gotten him into your bed, then?”

“I’m not his type, Pez.”

On the court, Alex spikes a ball over the net, scoring a point, then runs over to Liam to celebrate. Which involves smacking each other vigorously on the arse. They’ve been doing it all match. Once, after a particularly exceptional point scored, Alex kissed him enthusiastically on the cheek.

“You’re certain about that?” Pez asks sceptically.

“You know straight men and their homoerotic sports rituals,” Henry sighs.

“Mm,” Pez hums. “I wouldn’t mind testing that hypothesis with his partner. Those arms.”

Henry snorts. “Godspeed, my friend.”

“Never underestimate my charm, Hazza,” Pez chirps, watching as Liam dives for the ball and knocks it back over toward Alex. “They really are very good at this.”

It’s not like Alex has been modest when he’s talked about their performance, but it’s very clear that he’s still managed to undersell it. The US men are practically putting on a clinic, dominating every set of the match. Both Alex and Liam are clearly exceptional players, operating like a well-oiled machine, but Henry admittedly can’t take his eyes off Alex. The way his muscles ripple under bronzed skin as he stretches to make a save. The raw power behind his serves. The brilliance of his smiles when he turns away from the net to celebrate after each point. Of course it wasn’t enough that Alex had to be gorgeous and kind and thoughtful and funny—he had to be absurdly skilled, too, even taking into consideration that everyone here is at the top of their game.

Alex is clearly still hopped up on adrenaline when Henry catches up with him after their decisive win, talking animatedly to one of the other Team USA athletes. Henry does his best to feel nothing about the way Alex lights up when he spots Henry lurking by the sidelines, immediately ditching his conversation partner to jog over to him. He’s glistening and flushed and Henry wants to lick him.

Christ, he needs to get a bloody grip.

“Did you see that save in the second set?” Alex chirps excitedly. “When I did a fucking flip and just caught the ball, and then”—he mimes a jump—“Liam slammed it into the corner?”

“It was hard to miss,” Henry tells him indulgently, biting down on his too-wide smile at Alex’s antics. “You were incredible, Alex.”

“So how’d you like your first beach volleyball game?” Alex asks. “Think you’ll come back?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Henry admits. It’s too honest by half, but entirely worth it for the truly brilliant grin he gets from Alex in return.

~~~~~

The thing about sailing is that there are no crowds you can see, no cheering you can hear. There’s just you and the boat and the wind—and nine other guys trying to cut a tighter path on the course to shave off a few seconds.

The wind is gusty during the medal race, and Henry ends up drenched in spray within the first ten seconds of getting out on the water. He loves these conditions, though, the way they push a sailor to their limits, the way it feels like you could take off in flight at any moment. The boat is responsive under his hands, skipping across the water like a stone, and he finds good angles to the wind that send him rocketing forward right off the starting gun. His luck holds, helped by the French competitor nearly capsizing in a gust and the Italian having to do a penalty turn at the second mark, and in the end he crosses the finish line at the front of the fleet in a cluster so tight it’s impossible to tell the final rankings from the water.

It probably won’t be enough to medal, even if he managed to score in the top three—his previous finishes were just a little too far back in the fleet—but frankly, he can’t find it in himself to care. Because when he finally gets back to shore, there’s an extremely excitable American who practically launches himself into Henry’s tired arms before he can even check the scores.

“Second place, you motherfucker!” Alex yelps in his ear.

Henry blinks, pulling away to look at him properly. “Are you serious?”

“They just announced it,” Alex confirms breathlessly. “What does that mean? Do you get silver?”

“No, the final scores are cumulative. It’ll depends on how the leaders finished, can you look—”

But Alex already has his phone out, looking up the scores as Henry’s coach hurries up to them, his eyes wide.

“Burton and Sheldt were both over the line at the start,” Shaan tells him urgently. “They were disqualified. With your second place, that means—”

“Fucking bronze!” Alex shouts, like he’s just won the medal, and abruptly Henry’s knees don’t feel steady enough to hold him up anymore.

It takes several minutes before Henry’s breathing returns to something like it’s normal rate, and he finds Alex sitting next to him, chewing on his thumbnail as he reads something on his phone. A short ways away, Shaan is taking care of putting away Henry’s boat for him, leaving the two of them in their own little bubble.

“This scoring system is bonkers, I hope you know,” Alex tells him. “I can’t believe it’s cumulative over eleven races.”

“I can’t believe I won a medal,” Henry replies, staring off into the distance. He can see the women’s Radial fleet on the course already, the colourful flag-patterned spinnakers cutting across the horizon. Nothing quite seems real yet.

“Yeah you did,” Alex says, grinning as he bumps his shoulder into Henry’s. “You were right, by the way. I couldn’t see jack shit. But I’m glad I was here.”

Henry’s not going to cry. He’s not. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, focusing on the connection between their shoulders like he can draw strength from it. “I am too, Alex.”

~~~~~

“Shouldn’t you be out getting wasted?” Alex asks when Henry eases the door closed behind him.

Henry really thought Alex would be asleep at this point, given that the semifinal games are tomorrow. Instead, Alex is sitting up in bed with his iPad laying on the mattress in front of him showing a paused beach volleyball game and a notebook next to that. They’d been out with a mixed group of Brits and Americans celebrating Henry’s medal and Alex and Liam’s quarterfinal victory, but Alex had begged off early to come back to their room, leaving Henry in Pez’s clutches with too much champagne flowing.

“Maybe I’m going back out,” Henry says, more defensively than is probably warranted. He is, actually. Just not to party. He walks over to his bed and pulls his medal over his head, laying it carefully on the side table where the bronze glints softly in the low light from Alex’s lamp.

“Hm,” Alex hums doubtfully as he looks Henry up and down. “You’re up to something. I can tell.”

“It’s nothing.” Fuck. He probably should have denied that.

“Henry,” Alex says flatly, giving him a Look. “I’m not gonna judge you.”

Henry sighs and leans against the wall, letting his head thunk backward. That might have been a mistake, because everything is spinning now. “I was going to sneak back to the marina and take my boat out,” he confesses.

The room is silent, and when Henry opens his eyes again, he finds Alex frowning at him. “It’s the middle of the night.”

“Best time to see the stars,” Henry says with a weak smile.

“Isn’t that kind of dangerous? And against the rules?”

“Hence the sneaking.”

Alex stares another beat, then he nods, turning off his iPad. “Ok, let’s go.”

“…What?”

“There’s no way I’m letting you go out there by yourself,” Alex says firmly. “What if you slipped and hit your head or something?”

“If we got caught, you could be kicked out of the games,” Henry argues.

“And they could take away your medal,” Alex counters, folding his arms over his chest. “Whatever this is, it must mean a lot to you if you’re risking something like that. So if you’re going, I’m going.”

Christ, but he is stubborn. “My boat isn’t exactly built for two people, Alex.”

Alex shrugs. “We’ll make it work.”

Against the odds and all good sense, they do. Sneaking into the marina is easier than expected, thanks to shockingly lax security, and they find Henry’s boat amongst the other Lasers slumbering by the waterside in their cradles. Henry is well-practised at launching it by himself, so they just have to make sure Alex doesn’t capsize it when he climbs in—a near miss that leaves Alex white-knuckling the edge of the cockpit and Henry trying to hold back his laughter as Alex glares at him. The breeze has slackened now that the sun is down, just strong enough to take them out into the bay, where Henry drops the sail again and they both cram into the tiny cockpit with their knees bent and their legs weaved together.

“So,” Alex says, once they’re settled in and staring up at the stars, “are you gonna tell me what this is really about? Because I’m guessing it’s not just stargazing. Not that they aren’t amazing out here, but still.”

There’s a reason Henry didn’t put up much of a fight about Alex coming along, and it’s not how unspeakably beautiful he is with the pale moonlight in his curls. They might have only met a week ago, but he feels safe with Alex in a way he rarely does around anyone, able to share parts of him that he usually keeps buried. He takes a deep breath, letting every point of connection between them ground him.

“My father taught me how to sail,” Henry finally begins. “When I was small, we used to go out on his boat at night—a much larger one than this, mind you—until you almost couldn’t see the shore, just so we could see the stars better.” He swallows against the lump in his throat. “He died when I was eighteen. All of this—the racing, the Olympics, coming out here after regattas to look at the stars no matter where I am in the world—everything I do. It’s all for him.”

For a long moment, there’s nothing but the soft lap of the water against the hull of the boat, but then Henry feels Alex’s fingers against his, his hand pushing into Henry’s loose grip as he twines their fingers together and squeezes. “He’d be so fucking proud of you, H.”

“I know,” Henry whispers, not trusting his voice.

“Absolutely no pressure, but…” Another squeeze. “Do you want to talk about him?”

For the first time in a long while, Henry does.

~~~~~

“What do you think?” Alex asks as he emerges from the bathroom. He turns in a slow circle, holding his arms out to the side, to show off his outfit—absurdly tiny shorts that are practically painted on and a lacy shirt that he’s seen fit to close with only a single button just above his navel. There’s a gold Olympic rings pendant laying over his collarbones, and his dark curls are shining with whatever product he’s put in them to tame them just so.

Henry narrowly avoids swallowing his tongue. “I think you’ll be very popular,” he manages.

Alex’s nose wrinkles as if that is not entirely the point. He’s been invited to a party at some extremely exclusive club in the city hosted by the Brazilian women’s beach volleyball team, who happen to be two stunningly gorgeous women that seem to particularly enjoy flirting with Alex. Not that Henry can blame them, but that doesn’t make him feel any less grumpy about the whole situation.

“I’m not trying to be popular,” Alex says as he turns again, twisting around to look at his arse in the mirror. He frowns, and mutters, “Only one person’s eye I’m trying to catch.”

Henry isn’t sure if he’s meant to hear that, or respond to it, but he swallows against the disappointment that wells up in his chest. So Alex does have someone in mind. He should have expected it, really—there’s no way someone who looks like Alex could go the whole games and not find company eventually. Not to mention he’s going to be playing in the gold medal match in a day’s time, and is thus guaranteed no lower than a silver medal. There are always plenty of participants at the games who consider bedding an Olympic medalist the next best thing if they’re not going to win one themselves.

“Well,” Henry says, trying to appear as if he’s reading and not surreptitiously ogling his roommate, “whoever it is, they’d have to be an idiot not to notice you.”

“Ok, but I’m asking what you think,” Alex says, a little petulantly.

Henry sighs and closes his book on his thumb. “You look incredible, Alex. Truly.”

That makes Alex beam, and Henry’s stomach flips. Christ, he’s hopeless.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” Alex asks, casting his eyes over Henry’s slightly ragged joggers and Team Great Britain hoodie from 2012. “I’m pretty sure they’re not going to let you into the club like that.”

“I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, Alex,” Henry says. “I’m not going to any club.”

“Uh, yeah you are. You’re coming with me,” Alex says, like it’s obvious.

Henry scoffs. “I think my invitation got lost.”

“You’re a medalist,” Alex points out with an unnecessary eye roll. “Medalists have an automatic invite to every party. I thought this wasn’t your first Olympics?”

Henry pointedly looks down at his hoodie then back up again. “I know how these things work, Alex. I’m also certain that none of them are interested in having me there.”

“Well, I want you there, so.” He cocks an eyebrow, like he’s challenging Henry to deny him.

Like he knows Henry won’t.

Henry refuses to bring his medal with him because he’s absolutely not going to risk getting mugged for it, but in the end he doesn’t need the proof; apparently, he’s somehow on the list already along with Alex. And also, perhaps unsurprisingly, Pez, who’s already inside and practically shrieks when he sees Henry.

“Hazza! It’s a miracle!” he shouts as he looks appraisingly at Henry’s sedate trousers and the button-down shirt, which Alex had insisted he leave open down to the middle of his sternum. “I thought we had big plans to sulk in our room tonight.”

Henry glares at him and ignores Alex’s curious gaze. “I wasn’t aware having a quiet night in was a crime.”

“It’s the Olympics, H!” Alex puts in, clapping his shoulder with enough force to make Henry nearly stumble. “You can have all the quiet nights you want after the games.”

“See, this man knows how it’s done,” Pez agrees, then turns his attention to Alex. “I don’t suppose your dashing court partner is going to be here tonight…?”

Alex shrugs. “He said he was coming.”

Pez claps delightedly. “Wonderful!”

Alex says he isn’t drinking tonight, given his ongoing competition, which is understandable. Henry, on the other hand, is fairly certain he’s not going to survive the night watching Alex dance with scantily-clad women without significant assistance. He starts with a gin and tonic, but Pez keeps on appearing in a whirlwind with a myriad of brightly-coloured shots, so it’s not long before he’s very much feeling the loosening effects of the alcohol thrumming through his veins. When Alex reappears some time later with a sheen of sweat on his skin and an ipê-amarelo in his hair, Henry even lets himself be dragged out onto the dance floor, pretending his heart isn’t hammering in his chest when Alex pulls their bodies close with his hands on Henry’s hips.

“Hey, that first party we met,” Alex asks, his voice low and husky in Henry’s ear, just audible over the thumping bass, “were you trying to hit on me?”

Henry can’t help it; he laughs. “Well, yes, at the start,” he admits despite himself, his lips thoroughly loosened by all those shots. “I wanted to talk to you, so I did. I figured out you weren’t interested, but…” He shakes his head. “It didn’t matter. I was happy just getting to know you. Then I heard about your room situation, so it was kind of moot.”

Alex’s hands tighten on his waist. “Right.” There’s an odd note in his voice as he pulls back to stare up at Henry with those big brown eyes, the lights of the club painting multicoloured patterns on his face. “And if I wasn’t not interested…?”

There are far too many negatives in that sentence for Henry to be able to parse in his current state. He blinks at Alex, frowning deeply. He might also be slightly cross-eyed. “What?”

“Fuck, you’re really drunk, aren’t you?” Alex says with a huff of laughter. He pushes a lock of hair back from Henry’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Let’s get you back to the room, yeah?”

“Sensible,” Henry says through a yawn, and contentedly leans against Alex’s side as he steers them toward the exit.

~~~~~

The American women take bronze in beach volleyball, and Henry sweats out the rest of the alcohol in his blood as he sits in the unrelenting tropical sun at the match. Next to him, Alex is in high spirits and seemingly all too happy to add to Henry’s torment.

“Did I tell you about the time we protested the beach volleyball uniforms rule at a tournament match?

Henry squints at him behind his sunglasses. He doesn’t remember much about the  previous night, which he suspects is probably for the best. “No, I don’t believe so.”

“You know the women have these rules that they have to wear these skimpy bathing suits while the men get shorts and tank tops, right?” Alex explains. “Well, Liam and I made a deal with the women’s team to trade uniforms.”

It is frankly in Henry’s best interests not to picture such a thing, and he tries valiantly, but Alex already has his phone out and is shoving a photo in his face. In it, Alex and Liam are posing next to each other, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, wearing nothing but huge grins and matching tiny red bikinis. It’s actually absurd how well Alex’s pecs fill out the top, but the bottoms are another matter entirely. A women’s bikini contains decidedly less fabric than a men’s suit would, and the tiny scrap of fabric is stretched to its absolute limits, leaving precisely nothing to the imagination.

“The officials made us go change before we could play the match, of course,” Alex continues, oblivious to Henry’s suffering. “But it was worth it.”

“Quite,” Henry nearly whimpers.

“We still have the suits, actually. Said we’d wear them again at the medal ceremony if we won gold this year. Guess we’ll see tomorrow, huh?”

Henry has to close his eyes and breathe through his nose, and hopes desperately that Alex doesn’t notice.

~~~~~

Somehow, Alex manages to finagle Henry a seat in the front row for the final match. It’s a little awkward, sitting with Alex’s family, all of whom eye Henry with confused suspicion when he tries to explain how a British sailor ended up as a special guest of their son and brother. Apparently, Alex hadn’t bothered telling them about his altered living arrangements, a fact that has his mother—who Henry understands is some sort of American politician—pulling out her phone to have words with the US Olympic Committee and possibly the IOC as well, before her daughter tells her to cut it out and watch the match.

Alex is spectacular, of course, even when the Brazilians give them a run for their money, forcing the match into a nail-biting third set. Henry ends up with each of his hands crushed in the matching grips of Alex’s sister and her girlfriend (also Alex’s best friend), a statistician who has apparently run all the stats on this game and keeps rattling off numbers and percentages that Henry admittedly doesn’t quite follow.

It comes down to the final match point. Liam serves the ball, and they end up in a spectacular volley that seems to go on and on—the Brazilians make an incredible save that keeps it in play, somehow blocking a spike that Alex sends rocketing over the net, and Liam dives to prevent a ball from going out of bounds that Alex already touched. Finally, the Americans set up a shot, winding up like they’re going to drive it to the back of the court, but once the Brazilians have moved backwards to counter it, Alex softens his strike and the ball falls weakly into the Brazilian zone on the other side of the net.

The resulting cheers are deafening as Alex and Liam crash together in an ecstatic hug, knocking Liam’s cap off and nearly sending both of them down into the sand. Then Alex is running full-tilt toward them, barely pausing to accept an American flag from someone in the stands, which he throws over his shoulders like a cape as he gets enveloped in hugs from his family over the railing. It’s incredible, and Henry is so bloody happy for him, and—

And Alex grabs him, Henry assumes to drag him into a hug, but then Alex is pulling back and putting his hands on either side of Henry’s face and kissing him soundly on the mouth. Henry can see at least five cameras out of his peripheral vision, all crowding in to try and get the shot, but his attention is quickly torn away because Alex is kissing him, full and deep and claiming, and Henry can do nothing but cling for dear life as he kisses Alex back.

Alex presses their foreheads together when they finally part and says something, though Henry can’t quite comprehend it over the roar of the crowd. Only later will the words finally resolve themselves in his head, once Alex has been drawn away to be congratulated by others and Henry is still sitting dazed and touching his lips as people ask him questions he doesn’t know the answers to.

“I’m interested, baby.”

~~~~~

Alex and Liam do not, in fact, wear bikinis at their medal ceremony. Henry finds out later that the US Olympic committee’s emphatic directive that athletes wear their official Team USA track suit or else was, in the end, enough to spook the two men into behaving.

“That, and I’m pretty sure my mother would murder me,” Alex tells him once Henry manages to steal him away from the numerous well-wishers and endless press after the ceremony.

Henry has no clue where they’re going, having never been in the non-public parts of this stadium, so he lets Alex take over, leading them into the bowels of the training areas and locker rooms. By now it’s nearly three in the morning, and Henry is slightly delirious, though that’s less from the fatigue than the fact that he still hasn’t recovered from Alex kissing him in front of the entire world. They could have gone back to their room in the Village, except that apparently neither of them are willing to wait any longer.

“We should talk,” Henry says when Alex finally pushes him into an empty training room and closes the door behind them with a soft snick.

“Counterpoint,” Alex says, grinning wickedly as he crosses the room. There’s a swagger in his stride that really only comes when there��s a gold medal hanging around a person’s neck and, unfortunately, it’s devastatingly attractive. He backs Henry up against a wall, sliding his hands up Henry’s chest as he leans in so close their noses brush. “This now. Talking later.”

“You make a compelling argument,” Henry breathes.

“I know I do, sweetheart,” Alex says smugly, and Henry has no choice but to kiss the smirk off his face.

This kiss is nothing like the one they shared after the match. Henry takes his time, luxuriating in the slide of their lips and the cut of Alex’s teeth, licking into Alex’s mouth to feel their tongues slip against each other. He gets his hands into Alex’s hair like he’s wanted to since that first night, letting the curls twine around his fingers as he tightens his grip in a way that makes Alex moan into his mouth. Alex’s body is a firm weight against him, nothing but solid, corded muscle clenching under Henry’s palm. His hips rock forward, so subtly that Henry’s not even sure he knows he’s doing it, but the effect is unmistakable all the same.

In one smooth movement, Henry turns them, pressing Alex back against the wall and dropping to his knees, and the sight of the hard length of Alex’s cock straining in his trousers is enough to make Henry’s mouth water. He looks back up to find Alex gaping at him, his chest heaving and his knuckles going pale where his hands are clenched into fists by his side.

Henry licks his lips and slides his palms up Alex’s thighs to the elastic waistband of his trousers. “Can I blow you?”

“Fuck, please,” Alex exhales, a gratifying tremor in his voice.

Grinning, Henry hooks his fingers into the waistband and yanks downward to reveal—

“You’re a bloody demon, you know that?” Henry huffs as Alex’s cock twitches against the skimpy red spandex of the bikini bottoms.

“I said I was gonna wear it on the podium, and I keep my word,” Alex says, grinning, only to swear loudly when Henry leans in and presses his open mouth to the damp spot on the fabric.

Thank god this area is deserted at this time of night because Alex is loud as Henry shows off his not inconsiderable skill. He teases Alex through the bikini until he’s trembling all over, and when Henry finally sucks him down to the root, it takes no more than a few swirls of his tongue before Alex is coming with a shout and a fist tugging on Henry’s hair hard enough that Henry sees stars.

“Gold medal,” Alex breathes, his chest heaving and his thumb pressing at the corner of Henry’s mouth as Henry gentles him through the last aftershocks.

Henry doesn’t have the heart tell him that he’s not the first person to say that at the games. If cock sucking were an Olympic sport, Henry’s medal count would put Michael Phelps to shame. None of that matters now. Alex curls his hands in the front of Henry’s jacket and drags him back up to kiss him deeply, and the way they fit together is simply… perfect.

Alex doesn’t miss a beat in the rhythm of the kiss as his hand slides down to palm Henry’s cock through the front of his trousers, but Henry catches his wrist. “Later, love,” he murmurs against Alex’s lips. “What I want, we need to go back to the room for.”

They have two days before the end of the games, and Henry intends to make the most of it.

[fairydares]

loook i get why the idea of riding the "anti/pro" fandom disk horse makes people gag a little in their mouth and try to opt out entirely, but here's why i went from feeling exactly the same way to taking a firm profiction stance. I've been meaning to make this post for a while.

~10 years ago, I posted a fic for the first time and it got its own harassment campaign. The fic wasn't even sexual, and wasn't going to be (it remains incomplete). It was accurately rated T on fanfiction.net. Anyone in the Fairy Tail fandom will understand this: I literally got harassed for writing a "Lucy leaves the guild" fic💀.

After many nice comments, someone left a pretty nasty one. Hurt, I messaged them back. They acted super attacked that I'd responded (lmao) and after we argued, threatened to "rip my shitty story apart in the comments section" if I responded again. I told them "go ahead lol."

They went ahead.

Now know that it was a relatively small harassment campaign, but at the time, it was devastating. Right around then, I wound up in the hospital. After I got out, I went to excitedly check my fic, and found several reviews saying things I wouldn't repeat to my worst enemy. I was suicide-baited more than once, told "thank fuck you finally abandoned this shitty story, dumb cunt," stuff like that.

There were several accounts involved, and I can't say for sure, but I suspect at least a couple different people were involved, though probably at least half of it was one person.

All the other comments were screeching about how I hadn't updated, mostly. "NO UPDAAATEE WHY DOES THIS ALWAYS HAPPENS TO MEEEE??!!!" was one that stood out after I'd been miserable in a hospital for an extended period of time.

Idk what people think is going on when FT fic authors write this trope, and frankly I don't give a fuck. Because while I was partly writing the story out of some young, cringe feminist rage, I also did genuinely have a real story I was compelled to tell. I was inspired by another, popular fic I loved which used the trope to talk about how trying to shoulder our burdens alone really just hurts both ourselves and everyone who cares about us.

My own story was ultimately going to have similar themes, with more focus on strength, what it means, and in what contexts earning and having it actually matters. In retrospect, no wonder I wound up in hot water, because at the time "Lucy vs. Strength vs. Misogyny" was the FT fandom's Designated Nonsensically Activist Debate™. But that's partly why i wanted to write about it; engaging with the fandom had gotten me thinking about it 🤷‍♂️

Not too long after that, FFNet oh-so-benevolently granted us the ability to delete comments from our own stories (they never took my reports seriously at all, afaik). I deleted all or most of the harassers' comments (may still be a one or two up, and i'm fairly sure there's a couple comments defending my fic from the harassment) without saving screenshots, which I really regret now. I was just so mortified and full of self-loathing about the whole thing that i wanted to forget it completely. Something that had brought me joy at a very lonely, vulnerable period of my life had turned so negative, and i couldn't even tell the people closest to me about it without being made fun of for writing anime fan fiction.

I didn't understand why this happened at the time, but--after a period of trying to forget/bid out of it all with a slight anti lean (a common approach I see people use, and one which I'm not proud of adopting)--I just had to figure out What the Fuck Even Happened There. And I'm telling you, after years of reflecting, wrestling with both sides, and educating myself, that this "status quo of harassment" culture which pervades fandom goes way deeper than you think and comes out of a way darker well than you probably realize. An astonishing amount of this is, quite literally, TERF shit and evangelical shit.

Trying to be in fandom and take a stance of, "Anti/Pro shit? Ew, I'm Not Touching that," is like swimming in a heavily polluted river and being like, "Poison? Cringe. Not me lol."

You might be lucky enough to be in a less-polluted part of the river (AKA a relatively non-toxic fandom, in which case good for you!)...but tbh this rhetoric and peer-signalling will still seep in.

I can't stress enough that pro-fiction, AKA "proship", is the normal, leftist-about-art-and-sex opinion. Pro-ship is against all the horrible things you're against; in fact, pro-ship isn't trivializing real trauma by equating it with fictional trauma, or trying to apply literal evangelical/radfem solutions--which are proven not to prevent or help. Profiction/proship is literally just saying, "Fiction is fiction, reality is reality, and the two don't have a 1:1 relationship. And historically, trying to censor just things we've decided are bad has done nothing but get LGBTQ+ and POCs censored. Therefore, depictions of illegal things shouldn't be censored." That's it. "Proshippers all ship problematic ships," is a brazen lie. Many of them share other fans' disgust for those ships, they just don't believe in censoring fic authors over it.

It is also taking a stand against harassment because--and I hope my own story has helped drive this home--as with all groups who adopt ingroup/outgroup thinking, antis are defined by their tactics, not actual stances on real, serious issues. What happened to me was absolutely a result of anti, "it's okay to 'bully out' anything I just don't like" mindset pervading fandom. In a way, this was the mindset's final form. They didn't even feel the need to cite a reason the trope was "bad" or "wrong"; it annoyed them, and they viewed their own feelings as a valid enough pathway for policing to go right ahead and do so.

In the interest of offering solutions instead of just bitching about problems, I might make a "how to know if you've bought into these types of views"-type post sometime. Also might come back to this and provide some sources/citation.

[blueberrymocha]

hii! I love ur hcs i don’t want to is fandom to die either LOL! Could i pls request main four x reader slow dancing hcs?

main 4 slow dancing head canons ⑅⋆˚✿˖°༉‧₊˚.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

ׂ╰┈➤ fluff

➢ characters: gon, killua, kurapika, leorio

➢ word count: 562

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

gon

✯ this boy is such a ball of energy

✯ so he’d love to dance with you anytime

✯ and while he’s not particularly skilled at more formal dancing,

✯ he knows the general motions so he wouldn’t mess up too much

✯ while you’re dancing, he’ll talk every now and then in a soft voice about anything

✯ like the time he danced around the living room with aunt mito

✯ or what you two should do tomorrow

✯ he’s also gonna praise you regardless of how good you are

“woah y/n! i didn’t know you were such a great dancer.”

✯ as you step on his foot…

killua

✯ you’re gonna have to do some crazy things to get him on the dance floor with you

✯ he just never learned how to dance and doesn’t wanna look silly

✯ but if you’re completely alone and beg him for hours… he’ll give in

✯ hopefully you have some prior experience because you’re gonna be guiding him through the whole thing

✯ honestly he’s never even seen people slow dance

✯ but luckily, he’s already fluid and a quick learner so he’ll pick it up eventually

✯ although he’s not putting in a ton of effort so he does mess up a few times

“you’re doing that part wrong, it goes like this.”

“then why’d you teach me the wrong way?”

✯ when you probably taught it correctly and he just wasn’t paying attention

✯ once you’re done, he’ll tell you how he’s never doing this again, you’re the worst teacher he’s ever had, and now you owe him

✯ but you’re pretty sure it wasn’t as bad as he makes it out to be

kurapika

✯ he’s actually quite good at ballroom dancing

✯ neon probably dragged him to one too many formal events before he decided to learn

✯ but after a long day at work, it’d take a lot of convincing to get him to dance around for the fun of it

“love, you know i’m tired.”

“you’re always tired, just humor me once please.”

✯ unfortunately he has a hard time saying no to you

✯ don’t feel too guilty though because he enjoyed it a lot

✯ the two of you holding one another in comfortable silence, moving to the same rhythm, gazing into each other’s eyes

✯ any negative feelings he had that day completely dissipate

✯ eventually, he comes to a stop, laying his head on yours (or on your neck if you’re taller), giving you a quiet thank you and smile

leorio

✯ he’s not good at dancing, honestly i wouldn’t even ask

✯ on top of that, he’s very stiff and it just doesn’t come natural to him

“you know i’m horrible at dancing, don’t you?”

✯ he’d definitely preface with that, but if you don’t mind, neither does he

✯ and after putting on some music from the seventies, the two of you dance around your living room

✯ you might have to stop occasionally to reteach him a move, but he’s a good sport about it

✯ and good at applying your criticisms

✯ so who knows, maybe he’s half decent by the time you’re done with him

✯ at the end of the night, you joke about entering a competition

✯ and really, he wouldn’t mind dancing in public next time, as long as you’re having fun

[vintagemulti]

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷��‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

-

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

-

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

-

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

[goldmanguyperson]

really really weird to me that it’s shown ghosts age. and can have kids. like idk. sidney poindexter clearly has not aged, neither has desiree, why does anyone else age in the episode set in the future. for visual gags? so danny knows he’s in the future? okay i guess

I mean i can easily think of ways in which it could be explained. like, the ghosts changing their motivations and mindset, or generally their emotions drastically changing, changes how they look on the outside or something. and im sure that the fandom has thought of ways to explain this, and i wouldnt be shocked at all if the comic explained it. i havent read it yet lol. but man was i confused at first

(this is not about halfas because its pretty obvious how they could age—the half human part, lol)

[souryogurt64]

Have you ever seen Spectrum Pulse's video essay on The Young Blood Chronicles? Because you may enjoy it.

Im skimming this and it doesnt look like something I agree with— save rock and roll is my favorite album, i dont “hate listen” to it, and fall out boy being “an industry plant” is categorically not true. It also spends quite a bit of time saying the album is anti rap and racist, without really acknowledging that multiple rappers feature on the album and fall out boy continued to work with rappers even more in the future.

It also argues that the evil kid is supposed to symbolize them hating their fans, but the kid is androgynous/biracial and clearly supposed to be Pete, IMO, because there’s an androgynous and biracial kid in a lot of FOB’s works. I am just skimming, but it does not mention that Pete is biracial either. It also trashes the talent of a lot rappers like Kanye West and Big Sean which I fundamentally disagree with.

Conflating Pete’s dick pics with unnamed “allegations” is also a really unprofessional way to write in my opinion. Also pretending that the only reason why they got away with “sexist lyrics” is because critics did not care about them because they were unpopular is categorically and grossly false. Critics did not care about sexism and Fall Out Boy’s lyrics are incredibly, incredibly tame compared to other mainstream media of the time. The senior rock editor of MTV news and rolling stone literally co wrote the book in which pete talks about wanting to hit his teenage girlfriend. Critics knew— they just didnt care.

I do have to give this person a lot of credit for intentionally separating FOBs involvement in racial justice with their treatment of women. This is something the fandom and other creators like history book writers seem incapable of doing, and in fact uses their past involvement in racial justice movements as a tool to harass people who criticize the band.

Urghh and then they trash courtney loves performance too and say she ruins the song. Not true.

Also I feel like this essay spends all its time arguing that srar hates its fans and fans hate it, maybe that was true of older fob fans but I was 13 when it came out and I immediately loved it and so did all of my peers. Fob also continued making pop rock for years and years after that too.

Finally, I think interpreting the entire album as about the relationship between FOB and their fans/critics and bitterly hateful is honestly a bit self absorbed of the author and is skewing their perception of the record as “fall out boy hate their fans”. They bring up MMY as a specific example of this when MMY is pretty clearly about Pete’s ex wife. Etc. Its very bizarre to write like this.

I also think calling MANIA a corporate album is bonkers and like calling FOB an industry plant or Kanye West a bad rapper demonstrates that this person isnt very knowledgeable but is pretending they are. Mania is very weak in many places but it is not “corporate” and “kowtowing to trends” just because they dont personally like it, lmao.

The whole second half of this is just them whining about how every song and every album fob released past 2008 is the worst thing ever. Which like. Okay. Sure

Anyway this is why I dont read or like other bandom essays, I just think no one is very smart about Fall Out Boy and people are intentionally stupid ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ but people probably think that about me too lol. This essay reeks of someone who only likes pre-2007 FOB music and is desperate to sound smart enough to back this up instead of seeming like a petulant child, and also seems delusional in that they view all of FOBs music to be about “hating their fans” to make their opinion seem mutual and justified. Anyway this essay blows

[bronx-bomber87]

Happy Monday Wonderful fandom. Are you still breathing after that little kiss teaser? Cause I was gonna pass straight out when I saw it haha We are a little over 3 weeks away from S6 premiere. Can you believe it? I need it to be Wednesday already for that trailer. Feels like we've been in this hiatus for years LOL But let's get back to the rewatch eh? Ahhhh the Valentines episode. So much goodness inside this one. From start to finish this ep is glorious. I knew from the promo alone was gonna be fantastic. The ep name is pretty apt. Off we go.

5x16 Exposure

We hit the ground running in this one. Just a glorious shot of them sleeping in Lucy’s bed. The many ways I love this. Clearly he’s living there part time at this point. Staying over more often than not. If the man has a key i’m sure he has a drawer at her place as well. No way he doesn't at this point. My guess is Kojo having lots of sleepovers at Auntie Genny's with the kids too.

I love how peaceful they look in this shot. His body pointed towards her's in slumber. His head is damn near on her pillow. So close to one another. That gravitational pull just innate. Even when Tim is sleeping he is drawn to her. Just the little things that make me squee so very much. The domesticity of this moment has me reeling. As does this entire season for them really.

Unfortunately their peaceful co-habitation is interrupted by Lucy’s phone going off. Tim groans sleepily. Asking who it is? Lucy says she doesn’t know as she goes to answer it. It sounds like a drunk dial. Lucy hops out of bed immediately. Tim reaching out to her side of the bed is so cute all sleepy. I vote for more sleepy Tim. Asking half awake if it was wrong number?

He watches Lucy moving in a panic and the sleep drops from him. Asking her what’s happening? Lucy informs him It was a distress call from a UC she trained with. We see Tim go from sleepy to fierce protector mode quickly. Hopping out of bed ready to back her play. He doesn’t even know what’s going on but he’s there for her. My damn heart. No hesitation whatsoever to back his girl up.

It’s written all over Lucy’s face how much she love this. Her appreciation and love for this man so apparent as he scrambles to join her. She didn’t ask him to and that’s what she’s loving here. He was coming whether she asked for it or not. He’ll always have her back. No matter the scenario. Also never be over the jammies and sharing a bed. I wanna squee into my pillow haha

Something about Lucy driving Tim’s truck that is doing things to me. Like another version of wearing his clothes. I love it sfm. Tim waiting in the backseat with his gun at the ready. Phew lord started off this ep strong af. Lucy jumps right into character. God she’s good at this. She gets Noah out of trouble fairly quickly cause she’s a Queen. Lucy gives Tim the all clear to get out of the truck. Noah walks up and introduces himself to Tim.

Mentioning it was impressive she got backup this fast. Lucy proudly announcing it helped he was sleeping in her bed. Heh. Yeah he was. Noah then puts it together saying he’s THAT Bradford. So many questions stem from this statement I have to say. Clearly Lucy spoke about Tim ad nauseam at UC school. Not only that but the way she spoke about Tim Noah doesn’t seem shocked they’re together now. She clearly wasn’t with Tim during UC school so this is so damn fascinating to me.

I wanna know what she told Noah LOL As does Tim. Saying he’s curious to know what that means… Getting a small taste of some jealous Tim here I don’t hate it. I adore Lucy’s full bodied ‘No!’ in reply to Tim wanting to know more. Gotta love how expressive Melissa is. From her face to her body mannerisms. Why she’s always been the perfect Lucy. Just embodying her so well. Also am I crazy to think that’s Tim’s flannel? Cause looks a little big on Lucy. A girl can dream right? It’s possible...probably isn't but I want it to be LOL

Lucy asks him what they just recused him from? He says ‘The Army of Freedom.’ It’s a militia group born in Victorville. Said his OP started about a month ago. Unfortunately hasn’t been able to breach their inner circle yet. Tim asks if he pushed little too hard tonight? Noah replies maybe…but he had to roll the dice. They’re about to move something big. He’s going to need a local assist.

Tim says he can set up at their station. We then get to see a little more jealous Tim come into play. I don’t hate it everyone. He’s also a little grumpy from the lack of sleep. Ha Not loving the 'hot pants' nickname clearly. Tim then makes the most obvious and dramatic eye roll at end. Clearly not amused by this inside joke of their’s in the least ha It’s ok love, you’re the only hot pants she wants. LOL

Jealously thy name is Tim Bradford in this scene though. He runs the gambit for emotions at the end here. He goes from confused in the cutest way about the nick name, then a little intrigued, but we end with his jealous dramatic eye roll haha I love this man so much. He is tired and over this rescue now. Goodness what a great cold open for them. Whenever we get the cold open usually gonna be a damn good ep.

I’ll never be over how excited they both get when they find each other in the station in this season. Way she speed walks up to him. It’s so cute. Lucy hears the end of Tim’s conversation. All she hears is ‘You’re kidding.’ Lucy asking kidding about what? Tim’s clipped answer throws her off for a moment. But she doesn’t let it deter her too much. Touching his arm sweetly. Saying he left so early. That she had a whole Valentine breakfast planned for them. Gah I love that so much I can’t even stand it.

Of course she did. Damnit Tim why did you leave so early? Tim telling her she was up late he wanted to let her sleep in. Which is very sweet actually. Lucy apologizes but says it was nice to catch up with Noah. Lucy asking ‘We didn’t keep you up did we?’ Tim continues his grumpy short replies. Lucy is picking up on all of your being grumpy vibes. Did you think she wasn’t going notice you beautiful fool?

Love of your damn life knows you better than you know yourself. We get a SECOND sweet arm touch. *squee* Clearly something off with him. So Lucy approaches it with another soft touch to start. Knowing it’ll get his attention. Then sweetly asks if he’s ok? He lies and says he’s fine. Her face saying it all. Knowing he’s lying to her she’s just not sure why… Believe or not this is growth for Tim. His terrible lying showing how much she’s opened him up. He was as closed off as possible when they met. Now he's out here expressing feelings even if he's trying hard not to.

Grey has Tim ride with Lucy and Noah today. Normally they’d be excited to ride together but you can feel the tension above. Mostly from Tim. He is an open book about how he feels about this today. Lucy is more concerned than she is tense in this scene. Wade wants Metro on scene ASAP for this situation. If he’s riding with Lucy and Noah that’ll happen. They’re looking for a random van that has explosive chemicals in it. It was meant for a meth lab Noah’s team took down. Now it’s floating around the city and needs to be found before it does damage.

Another great shot of their day starting in the shop. Reminding me of 5x08 opening sequence. Lucy can see Tim is acting off still. Being Lucy she can’t let that stand. Having no idea it’s her that’s put him in this foul mood. Being the sunshine human she is tries to get him to engage with some UC school stories. I LOVE her putting her hand on the back of his chair. Crossing that invisible line of theirs that existed for years in the shop.

Getting as close to him as possible without actually touching. When Lucy sees the story isn’t working she makes a joke. Then touches his shoulder. Gah it’s so cute. She wants to get him through whatever this is by just loving on him. Trying to get him to smile. Sadly Tim doesn’t respond like she wants. Thought she was going to get the normal sassy reply back from him and nada. Lucy withdraws her hand confused but determined to figure him out.

Lucy brings up Noah’s GF asking if he’s contacted her yet? He says no they broke up. Well that she broke up with him. Noah bringing up the elephant in the room that plagues them the rest of this season. Being a UC and being in a functioning relationship. I do adore Lucy being confident af in front of Noah about it. About them. Saying it depends on the couple.

Basically saying I’m sorry yours didn’t work out but mine will. She is all in and it shows in so many of her comments and decisions. I truly love it so very much. Noah makes a comment that has Tim shifting in his seat. Even turning the grumpy off for a moment. Looking over at Lucy when Noah tells her be a shame if she didn’t take the plunge.

So much being said in the looks above. The ever present issue they struggle to talk about is here. Rears its ugly head for first time since they got together. Gotta love Eric and Melissa’s chemistry especially in moments like this. Communicating so much without saying a damn word. Gah we’re lucky to have them.

This next part is glorious for so many reasons. Angela, Harper, Nolan, Celina and Aaron are all gossiping on an open channel. Tim interrupts because well it’s Tim. He’s already grumpy today so this is last thing he wants to listen to. Angela calling him out for being so damn surly. Because she wouldn’t be his best friend if she didn’t. Saying he should be basking in the glow of new love.

Look at Lucy when Angela says this. Heart eyes for days for that man sitting next to her. As transparent as glass. Celina giving into the continuous gossip asking what they’re doing tonight? I love Lucy snatching the radio out of his hand. Even mad as hell at her he allows it because it’s wifey. Nothing he wouldn’t do for that woman angry or not. Lucy projecting what Tim is thinking. Saying they’re not talking about this on an open channel.

Look at how he has rubbed off on her I love it sfm. Also something about her jumping in and defending his side. *sigh* Gah getting me all in the feels. Also look at the way Lucy is looking at him when she does chastise the group. So in love with that man. Heart eyes nation in this shop. We can also see Tim fighting a proud smile wanting to stay mad. When he’s so impressed with her for doing that. Let’s not discount Noah being chill af in the back. None of this affecting him whatsoever LMAO

Lucy can’t take it any longer and confronts Tim about it. We can see her studying his body language. Noticing how tense he is. He is broadcasting his feelings like a radio station. She knows something is amiss. Deep in her soul she knows something is off with her person. Love the way she is studying him then reaches out with a soft touch. Knowing it’ll get his attention and be an ice breaker into her asking. Her whole demeanor screaming 'Timothy my love what is going on?'

Lucy being as direct but soft as she can in her delivery. Telling him ‘Out with it.’ Tim ridiculous answer of ‘What?’ Like she hasn’t noticed him stewing all damn morning. You’re full of a lot of shit Timothy haha The disbelief on her face is so telling. Asking him what’s wrong with him today? He continues to be short with her. Lucy calling him the hell out on it. In a way only she can.

Noting he hasn’t even called her hot pants once. If Tim wasn’t being such a grumpus he would’ve been all over that. She is so right and knows him so damn well. Then she asks if it’s Noah? Is he jealous? Tim immediately saying ‘No.’ I mean it was a little last night…but it’s definitely not that now. It’s not helping but not the main problem here either.

Tim FINALLY fesses up it’s her he’s mad with. Lucy is taken back but it becomes clear when he brings up Metro. Lucy tries to deny it and Tim gives that disapproving stare he’s so good at. Lucy giving in and saying he was SO miserable riding the desk. That she had to do something for him. Tim then shoots back the optics of it aren’t great for him. Lucy shutting this down asking if it’s fragile male ego thing? I mean it is a little bit. It's not the whole reason IMO (I'll touch on that more later) but it is part of it. Tim has grown leaps and bounds. Truly he has.

But he also still has to deep stubborn steak in him. One built on pride and earning everything he’s ever gotten. This is making him question if he deserves the position he now has. Negative grooves in his brain he still defaults back to. Now I know some may have hated his reaction to this. I won’t lie it wasn’t great. His reaction reminds me of myself pre-therapy. I would shut down and be one worded. Lash out if someone tried to get me to talk. My whole body would emulate frustration and annoyance. Just like he has been. I so relate to him reacting this way.

Once again not the best but the man is still human. Tim has earned everything in his career with hard work and his strong skill set. This was a blow to his ego 100 percent. He’s not admitting to this but it was. Lucy smells BS and is letting him know as much. I love how she holds steady and strong despite his boiling anger. Even making a joke Tim is just mad she solved it better than him LOL I mean she did…Lucy saying ‘We’ just wanted to help. Tim getting more ramped up hearing this. Lucy cracks me up stumbling on her words saying we? I meant Me. Ha smooth…

This scene in his office is *chef’s kiss* I remember being excited this was their first fight as a couple. Because it’s so healthy to be fighting from time to time. Something neither of them had in their previous relationships. This was an important fight for them to have. They come out the other side of it stronger because of it. This is good angst. Productive fighting. I’ll take that any day damn if it moves them forward as a couple. This most definitely did.

Lucy comes into his office ready to confront this problem head on. Their talk in the shop leaving too much left unsaid. Lucy is a lot like me and can't let sleeping dogs lie. She has to clear the air and confront things. I do love her patting herself on the back as she launches into why she did what she did for him. I mean she did spearhead a miracle for him. She just needs him to see WHY she did it.

His anger has clouded that all day and it's part of why she is here now. Tim barely looks up from his paperwork as she starts her explanation. Still so angry about this whole thing. Lucy starts out with saying she gets why he’s angry. He looks up at her finally. Lucy going on a mini rant about why she did what she did. That she did it masterfully (I mean she most definitely did) Kudos to her amazing brain.

Lucy finishes off saying despite all that she shouldn’t have done it behind his back. Tim being a sassy sass pot asks if that was an apology? My goodness Timothy. The salty sass. You can see there is still a lot of seething going on under the surface. Lucy immediately says yes. Tim not seeming less mad just replies ‘All right.’ Her apology feeling like it's made zero difference in his anger about what's happened. Also Lucy's 'Yes' doesn't seem whole hearted either because she's holding back and decides to let it rip instead.

We see this is not sitting right with her. So she backtracks and says ‘No!’ I love her for this. Could've taken his half hearted acceptance but she didn't. Knew it didn't feel right to her. She wouldn't be Lucy if she just let that happen either. Knowing things felt unresolved still and not being able to stand that. The whole purpose of her coming to him was the clear the air. Tim looks exasperated af with her reply. That famous he can't believe she just said that look. He's about to be taken to school and probably knows it.

Lucy launching into exactly why she is sorry but not sorry. I love this fireball of a woman. (So does Tim) That he never would’ve let her work her magic if he knew. She’s not wrong… Same goes for her. If Lucy had known he was taking that desk job she wouldn’t have allowed it. What makes these two dopes so perfect for one another. That she would’ve ended up transferring just to save him from himself. Which was what they were trying to avoid in the first place.

Lucy stands her ground and lets him know this worked out SO much better. I mean it really did. That if he can’t see that she’s sorry not sorry. This is where we see Tim turn the corner. What I love the most about this part is how she stood up so confidently. Strongly stood by her decision on what she did. Her sorry not sorry is perfect. Basically saying ‘I love you, you idiot and I don’t regret doing this for you.’

It’s not the apology that soothes Tim’s anger. No it’s her conviction in why she did this for him. Seeing that fire she has and he is feeling so lucky he gets to have her in his corner. Lucy is 100 percent unapologetically herself in this moment. Her standing up to him is one of the many reasons Tim fell for her in the first place. So naturally her ‘non’ apology is what gets it done. Not her I don’t really mean this but you’re mad at me one.

He loves that woman standing in front of him so much. It shows when she’s done. It’s why he’s smiling at the end of her ‘non’ apology. She is his rock, his compass and his sunshine lighting his path when he needs it. But mostly she is a guiding force in his life. Kicking him back onto the right path whether he realizes he needs it or not. Beautiful thing is she has his back. He’s so not used to this type of love and support. It's a throw back to 2x01 in a way with his reaction to it. How visceral and angry he was then and now. Once again doesn't see her protecting him and helping him as a positive thing. And just like in 2x01 he didn’t see it this way until she stood up. Smacked some sense into him. Let him know why she'd done it.

Doing it this time around because she loves him so much. Only wants the best for him. Let's not forget this man has been put second in all of his other relationships. His needs being put on the back burner to take care of those he loves. Had to suppress his emotions for years. When you let yourself start to feel after years of not it's a tidal wave that drowns you. It's overwhelming really. Luckily Tim has Lucy to drag him to dry land. So when he's taken care of he doesn’t know how to handle it. It's not something you just get used to in an instant. Just like in the beginning with Lucy when she would push him to open up. We got surly angry Tim but he eventually came around. This is no different. He isn’t used to be put first. His gut reaction was hurt and being defensive.

Not oh Lucy did this because she loves me. Because he probably in the back of his mind still doesn't feel worthy of that love still. And although he has grown. So very much. He still isn't used to having someone fiercely love and defend him the way Lucy does. That's why this scene was so important for her to back her decision. To make him see exactly why she did this. It’s why he’s smiling at the end of it. This beautiful, driven fireball is his and she’s in his corner. What’s hitting him is that realization. She put him first and put in a massive effort to do so. Not only for him but for them as a couple. He is so very lucky to have someone as wonderfully understanding as Lucy to love him through these types of moments.

I love how once the dust is settled they just morph back into them. How it should be. Fighting is meant to be cleansing. To confront the issue and then be done with it. Confrontation gets a bad rap. It’s meant to clear the air so both parties feel better after. Her cute. ‘So are we going to dinner or what?’ Haha They already missed her breakfast. She wants to do something with her man.

Tim couldn’t be cuter saying they are. But her outfit is missing a little something. Lucy being very confused by this. Saying 'What?' Then seeing the jewelry box in his hand and melting like butter. Tim could not be cuter handing it to her. Love struck as he gives her his gift. Telling her ‘Happy Valentines Day.’ The biggest grin on his handsome face. Lucy beaming right back at him. Her eyes screaming how much she loves this man.

She is so impressed with him. So impressed she’s shocked he picked this out LOL He knows his girl. Tim is offended asking her if it’s that shocking? Lucy soothing his ego saying ‘No.’ Letting him know he clearly has good taste. I mean he does. He is in love with her after all. He really did a good job. That is the perfect Lucy necklace so he nailed it. The man has noticed a trend is what she wears. Well done Timothy. Your girl is mighty impressed with your gift giving skills. How far you've come since your days with Rachel ha

It’s so intimate and sweet the way he puts it on her. Lucy is radiating joy as he does this. The way she looks at him while he puts it on and slides his hand down to adjust it. *heart clutch* She is revved up and wants to skip dinner now. More than ready to ‘Thank’ him for her gift. I love her being the one to suggest just skipping dinner and having her way with him instead. Tim saying 'No I'm hungry.' Lucy is feeling a little rejected like ‘Oh. Ok..’

Tim doesn’t let that feeling linger for long. Touching her back intimately mentioning she’s gonna need fuel for later. OMG. He just said that and I’m reeling. I rewound it I remember being so damn giddy. Basically saying she needs fuel to keep up so he can have his way with her. Tim Bradford talking about sex in his office. Not only that but they’re gonna have so many rounds he wants her fueled up. *fans self*

Lucy’s face is everything afterwards. She is blushing but also so ready for their night together. Man has some pent up tension to burn off but needs food first LOL Lucy is very ready to go to dinner now. Especially knowing what awaits her when they’re done hehe I can only imagine how antsy she was to get back to either his or her place following that dinner. I love how the writers constantly insinuate their sex life is spicy and active af. I adore it so much. I mean did we really expect anything less? Doesn’t make me love it any less though.

Anyone else just in shock we got all these goodies still? I keep saying feels like a fever dream because it does. In the best way possible. After last episode this was start to finish incredible.

~~~~

Side notes-non Chenford

Wesley accidentally hiring a beautiful woman to guard him is hilarious. A non pregnant Angela wouldn’t be amused. A very pregnant one is ready to wring his neck.

Celina’s murder case gets brought back up. This SL is so good. It was my turning point for her as a character I needed that to care and give her more depth.

I did love how all the couples started off rocky and ended up fine by the end was growing a little from it. I do love Nyla and James so much.

Thank you forever and always to those who like, comment( love dem comments) and reblog these. S5 been so fun to analyze thank you all for still being invested in these all these months later. See you all in 5x17 :)

[mysteriesmuse]

Bedtime Bliss

I think that almost everyone in the fandom agrees that we’d simply steal all of Bakugo’s shirts to sleep in lol. Of course the oversized comfort can not be disputed!!

However, I’m the kinda person who thinks that Bakugo would still be just as enamored with you wearing your own pajamas. ———

Bakugou himself almost exclusively sleeps in his boxers alone. Occasionally throwing on a pair of sweatpants in the winter, but you his pretty little s/o, always wears a cute little outfit to bed. Your dresser in Bakugou’s apartment has changed to include only summer appropriate pjs bc Bakugou’s body runs so hot at all times!! You’ve got camisoles, ruffled shorts, and silk slips etc. A PLENTY!! 👏 If you slept in any more clothes, you’d surely wake up in the middle of the night to an uncomfortably clammy cuddle. So every night after your shower and incessantly loud session of blow drying your hair. You prance out of the bathroom into the bedroom with an undeniably pretty domestic aura. And Bakugou will wait every night, sitting against the bed board with his scared, tan chest gently rising and falling. Those broad shoulders of his finally released from damn next to his ears, to rest where they’re supposed to sit. His ash blonde hair a fuzzy mess, a pair of readers hanging off his nose as his fat fingers flick through the pages of his book. and when you DO waltz out of the bathroom into the bedroom those smouldering eyes will peek up at you from his reading, and his perfectly sharp and chubby cheekbones (which only get MORE attractive when he wears his glasses) only to soften when they land on you. Your skin all soft and supple, from the glowy sheen of your moisturizer. Your bare face all relaxed and your eyelashes all light and fluffy. the adorably sexy pjs from your summery collection that hang of your body exposing all your angelic angles. Especially the graceful curve of your legs as you make your way over to him. As you crawl into bed beside him and press a soft kiss to his shoulder. And Katsuki Bakugou grunts out his familiar sound of acknowledgment. Staring into your eyes with the tender hearth that rests behind the red curtain of feriousity that the world sees. - internally his heart beats a little faster, and does its signature flip for you. And you just beam up at him with that cover girl worthy smile. The grunt is all he can do with his heart caught in his throat. - but Bakugou was always better with his actions than his words, as he threads his fingers through your hair and presses a seeringly soft kiss to the corner of your smile.

Before your turn around and give him a real kiss full on the mouth muttering your cheeky, “you need a little chapstick babe.” all just to see the shiny little pout of his lips from the transfer of your honey chapstick

The tips of his ears turn pink as he turns and drops your book right onto your lap, grunting out a disgruntled and flustered, “Here.” As you giggle and he resumes reading his book. And the two of you lie in bed together, just like every night when Bakugou comes home early. (He purposely try’s to set his schedule up like this to enjoy this time with you) and you two sit quietly, shoulder to shoulder, with books in hand. You and Bakugou silently passing along your steaming mug of tea, fingers grazing, back and forth to the nightstand. . . . how it’s still steaming half and hour later always seems to escape your sleepy mind, as you sip the golden liquid, but Bakugou always takes mind to use his quirk and warms it up in his hand before wordlessly passing it back to you.

[misc-obeyme]

i had a thought, cc, because of the recent event being about sports. when I was in highschool and college after sports (specifically swimming) we would all shower together. there's just 0 shame with a swimmer, we'd be side by side chatting while showering. I've noticed in my life that a lot of people don't really take that well! like I'm okay taking off all my clothes in front of a classmate, casually, without even really thinking about it; swimmers are kind different that way.

I'm kind of giggling trying to imagine any of the brothers who may be showering in the communal and MC just casually sliding up next to them (there's a ton of other spouts but they pick the one RIGHT next to him?) and making conversation. (They're not even TRYING to hide their body.. not showing it off either but-)

Since I don't know them as well as others who have been in the fandom a lot longer than my month and a half, what do you think their reactions might be?

Like who's team freak out, or just mildly uncomfortable, or just as casual as MC? Oh god and who's (NSFW) peeking inappropriately?

- 🐌

Oh well I can tell you right now that Mammon and Levi are both on Team Freak Out and Asmo is on Team Peeking Inappropriately.

I'm assuming this is something where they're all at RAD and in some kinda PE locker room situation lol. There does seem to be a communal bathroom in the House of Lamentation, but it also seems to me like they take turns using it rather than using it all at once? So I'm not sure if it has a communal shower situation. And honestly I don't think the brothers could handle something like that on a regular basis.

Okay so here's what I think would happen with the bros:

Lucifer wouldn't be bothered. I don't think he'd even be mildly uncomfortable. I think he'd be just as casual as MC in this situation. Lucifer has a lot of self confidence so in that, he would be unconcerned. I also don't think he would be overly bothered by MC's nakedness. Now if MC was in a relationship with him, then things might get inappropriate, but only if you were alone with him. He'd be far more bothered by the entire situation if the others were there.

Mammon and Levi would both freak out, but for different reasons. Mammon is so in love with MC, he wouldn't be able to handle seeing them naked. Unless MC is in a relationship with him and then he wouldn't be able to keep his hands to himself, no matter who else was around. Levi, on the other hand, would be so self conscious and embarrassed, he would probably just run away lol.

I see both Satan and Beel being mildly uncomfortable. Like they're not gonna say anything, but they are definitely blushing profusely and trying not to look at MC. Satan would probably be a little more bold if he was in a relationship with MC. Beel probably has a little bit of that sports team camaraderie experience, but it's also a little different because it's MC, you know? I think he would be shy unless MC made a move.

Asmodeus would be so thrilled. He has no problem with nudity, either his or someone else's, and he would be gushing about how beautiful MC is. He might get a little worked up, even. Asmo would be excited, but he would also appreciate that MC was taking care of themselves, you know? Plus he's easy to distract if MC just starts asking him about his shampoo or something.

I think Belphie would be like Lucifer. Unbothered. Might not even notice, actually. Just kinda like oh hey MC. I think he'd only react if MC deliberately teased him or something. He just has that general sense of "can't be bothered" you know? And I don't think it'd be a big deal to him.

Anyway, this is just my opinion of course! Everybody headcanons the characters a little differently! But this is how I think it'd go. I kept this pretty sfw, mostly just implying the potential of other shenanigans. But things could get nsfw very quickly too imo...

[underqualified-human]

Pomefiore + Octavinille: Siren S/O

→ Request: Hello, I love this book so much. Can we have a gn!/fem!siren!reader with Octavinelle and Pomefiore? Headcanon please. It’s fine if you don’t wanna or can’t, I just love sirens.

→ A/N: Fun fact: My Yuusona is actually half-siren so this was a super fun prompt! [wasnt sure which type of siren you wanted so I kept in sort of vague]

→ Warnings: no beta,

→ Fandom: Disney: Twisted Wonderland

→ Genre: Headcanons

→ Pronouns: They/Them

Vil Schoenheit:

Power couple, immediate power couple

Posts a bunch of pictures of you guys together on his Magicam account [if you’re okay with it]

Spends a bunch of money on wing/tail care products that you might need

Tries to use his charm on your sisters/family and they are having absolutely none of it lol

Is initially very curious about your singing but understands your apprehension completely

Adding on to the previous point he defends you against people that may have a negative view on sirens [earns him a few points with your sisters]

Rook Hunt:

Wants to hear you sing so much that it rivals Odysseus 

”You know you'll die right?” “It'll be worth it”

Knows you get a lot of compliments based on your looks, so he waxes poetically about your personality

Acts the exact same way around your sisters/family so you’ll have to stop them from killing him

Super into learning about how you care for your non-human appendages

Epel Felmier:

He lives in a semi-landlocked area so he doesn't think it’s that big of a deal

Super nervous about meeting anyone in your family

Won't admit it out loud but definitely wants to hear you sing

Gets a little defensive when he sees people getting too close to you in public

If you have to care for your wings he goes “Don’t worry I’ve dealt with chickens before!” then backtracks if you get offended

Azul Ashengrotto:

Power couple vibes but he's secretly dying on the inside whenever he's near you

Immensely insecure, please reassure him

Wants you to sing at the lounge but then remembers it makes people kill themselves :(

Has discussions about the ocean with you, even if he doesn't have many positive memories associated with it

He knows how important family can be, so he’s absolutely terrified to meet them. While the Pomefiore group doesn't know much about sirens, the mers do.

Please defend him if your sisters/family says something rude, he will not do so himself

Honestly kind of bad at caring for tails or wings since he only has tentacles, but he tries his best

Floyd Leech:

Knows what would happen if you sang but still wants you to do it anyway

Talks to you about random land stuff that he thinks is cool

Brags about you to anyone who will listen is close enough. It’s usually the basketball club

You introduced him to your family and like 5 more ships got sunk that day. They want you to bring him around more often

Isn’t all that good at helping you with tail/wing care, but he does try

Jade Leech:

Power Couple #2

If you guys walk down the hall students part like the red sea

Shares a bunch of information about land plants [mushrooms] with you. You have no choice but to listen, he won’t take no for an answer

Subtly uses the fact that he’s dating a siren as leverage when dealing with customers

Helps you groom your tail/wings

Gets along pretty well with your sisters/family. He knows that they could kill him, but he trusts you enough to not be afraid

Tagging: @angelchanisaweeb [requester]

[lexi-the-demon-69]

My CRK hot takes (character edition)

Yeah, you knew this was bound to happen. So, here are my Cookie Run Kingdom hot takes! Please do not read beyond this point if you are easily offended by someone else's opinion because I do not feel like listening to some of you guys whine in the comments.

So, here they are lol:

Ok, now let me explain my takes! I couldn't really fit everything into the comic, because they're just too small and I don't think I can do it justice. So, here are my explanations!

1.) "Black Pearl is an overrated character and didn't deserve to be Cookie of the Year."

I honestly do not understand why she’s so popular, other than that her design is pretty and she’s VERY good skill-wise. Other than that… there’s nothing really that I like about her. Don’t get me wrong, she’s not criminally offensive compared to other characters, but all she is to me is a simple rehash of Dark Choco Cookie’s character, but worse. If anything, Sherbert Cookie should’ve been Cookie of the Year and not her! He’s an amazingly written character compared to her and I actually feel very sorry for, unlike Black Pearl. The only reason why she got Cookie of the Year is that she’s pretty. That’s it.

2.) "Clotted Cream can go fuck himself."

I despise this character with a passion. I also do not understand the appeal of Clotted Cream. There is just something about him that I just do not like! The moment I laid eyes on him in Cookie Odyssey, I immediately thought he was the man behind the slaughter and I feel like that was also half of the fandom at the time when Cookie Odyssey was released. Do I even need to mention the scene where he confronts the ancients with Dark Enchantress Cookie’s identity? I mean, yes, it should’ve been said, but holy fuck he could NOT shut his fucking mouth! Besides, HE started the whole damn thing! If anything, Dark Cacao should AT LEAST knock some fucking sense into him. I would not be even mad. Also, he’s fucking annoying to me. Why does he not have a British accent?! WHY?!-

3.) "LicoPom is a good ship"

I stand by this and I shall explain myself now. Both Pomegranate and Licorice Cookie are shitty people and they both treat Dark Choco like garbage. The ONLY reason why people say this ship is bad is because Pomegranate is shitty towards Choco. Y'all, you DO realize Licorice also uses Dark Choco as a punching bag too, right? Not only does Licorice throw Dark Choco under the bus by mentioning him to get him in trouble, but ALSO calls him names. Not to mention that Licorice is treated the best by Pomegranate, compared to the others, and you can see that they care about each other (at least, Licorice does, at the end of episode 14, where he tells her that she's hurt and they need to retreat.) They deserve each other, honestly.

4.) "The Heroes of the Dark Cacao Update is THE BEST CRK Update."

Do I really need to explain why? I mean, this update is CARRIED by its story ALONE! Not to mention we got Dark Cacao: One of the BEST written characters in the entire game, Affogato Cookie, Caramel Arrow Cookie: Dark Choco's wife/j and certified Girlboss, and we got to learn more about Dark Choco Cookie as a character! Whoever says this update is bad is a liar-

5.) "Sea Fairy is a mid character"

I don't think I need to explain why. We know very little about her, even after the Mermaid update we only know that she's connected to the Mermaids and that's kinda it. I mean, I don't hate her at all, but I wish we had a little more info about her.

6.) "Pudding Cookie should be introduced into Kingdom for the next Krima update"

Ok, not much of a hot take but more of an opinion. I mean, c'mon! Look at her!! We need an update where she's introduced along with other Christmas Cookies with their own little story, like in ovenbreak! Please, Devsisters, do it-

----

Ok, that's all of my hot takes I have so far. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna lose some of my followers for these takes- (thank you for 400 followers btw!! It really means a lot!!) but I say it's worth it. If any of you guys have any hot takes of your own, please let me know in the comments or ask box! I'd love to see them!

[across-violet-skies]

@unexpectedstormy Stormy!!!! a fic for you!!! this took me WAY longer than I'd like to admit, lol, but it's finally done and just in time too!!!

admittedly I don't know you as well as I'd like, but I do know you like Wild and Hyrule, so....... well, you'll see :3

I hope you have a super awesome day!!! enjoy it <3

(also, thanks to @anime-obsessed for coming up with the herb name!)

preview under the cut!!!

Wild hummed to himself, crouching in the tall grass to take a picture with his slate. “Hey ‘Rulie, do you recognize this?” He snapped the picture, examining it in his slate. “My slate can’t identify it!”

“Hm?” Hyrule glanced over at Wild. “What?”

“This mushroom,” the Champion repeated, pointing into the grass. Sure enough, a tiny, blue-tinted mushroom sat pretty in the parted lawn, round and innocuous and tempting.

Hyrule squatted down beside Wild, eyes shining with curiosity. “I’ve never seen it before, no,” he murmured. Hesitantly, he held out a finger, flicking the spongey texture with wide eyes. A small cloud of spores puffed out from the mushroom, cloudy blue in color. “Oh!”

“Ooh…” Wild took another picture, shutter clicking. “Should I take it?”

The traveler glanced around, frowning. “I don’t see any more of them around here…” He gently touched the mushroom, bending the stem slightly to get a better look at it. “I don’t think we should take it if there’s no more of them around. They might be really important to the wildlife here.”

Wild sighed, but put his slate away. As much as he hated to admit it, Hyrule was right. Taking that mushroom could prove disastrous for the local ecosystem, and who was he to cause harm to the planet? He loved the world– his nickname was literally Wild. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Hyrule’s ears perked as his head swiveled. “Oh, Wild, look over here!” A few quick paces led him to a new plant, one tall and leafy with pale yellow stripes tracing the leaf veins. It smelled strongly of herbs, like what Wild would sometimes toss in a meal to season it.

“Oh, I know this one!” The cook pressed the stem between two fingers, sliding his hand along to pick off the leaves. “This is Sunlight Sage. I use it in cooking all the time!” He stored the leaves in his slate, adding them to bolster his stock.

Hyrule hummed. “It smells nice,” he noted.

Wild grinned, nodding. “Yeah! Oh, here’s another one; let me show you how to pick the leaves!” he crouched down beside the second plant, pointing along the stem. “See how the leaves all point up like that? If you slide your hand in the opposite direction, they come off super easy!” He demonstrates, plucking the leaves off the top half of the stem. “And it makes your hands smell like herbs, too.”

Hyrule lit up, eyes sparkling. He grabbed the stem, pinching it in the same way he had seen Wild do it. Carefully, he moved his fingers, breaking off the leaves as he went. His lips split into a wide grin. “Oh!”

“Cool, right?”

“So cool!” Hyrule agreed, handing over the leaves he had picked. Wild stored them in his slate. “Wild! Look!” The traveler gasped, pointing into the grass. “Another one of those weird mushrooms!”

Wild didn’t hesitate. He laid flat on his stomach, at eye level with the strange blue mushroom. Hyrule followed suit. “Does that mean I can take it?”

Hyrule shrugged. “Probably!”

The Champion lit up, sitting back on his haunches. Hyrule poked the mushroom again, giggling at the way it sproinged back up. Another small puff of blue spores released from the fungus, dusting Hyrule’s nose with a fine blue layer. Wild plucked it from the dirt, pinching it at the stem. It got tossed in the slate along with the Sunlight Sage.

Hyrule wrinkled his nose, reeling back as a sneeze racked his small form. “Ugh,” he groaned, sniffling. “That’s a weird mushroom.”

Wild glanced over. Hyrule’s nose had a light coating of blue over it, the skin underneath already starting to turn an angry red. “Oh!” Wild grabbed the hem of his tunic, pulling it up to wipe the spores off Hyrule’s face. When he pulled away, however, it looked the same. “Uh oh…”

“What?” Hyrule tilted his head, brows furrowed. His nose twitched, and another sneeze sent a shiver down his spine. Tears pooled in his eyes, easily blinked away. “Is something wrong?”

Wild grimaced, grabbing Hyrule by the arm. “We need to get you back to the others,” he insisted. “You might be allergic to that mushroom or something! Your face is all red and blotchy.”

“It is?” The traveler blinked slowly, almost in a daze. He didn’t fight as Wild tugged him along, dragging him through the fields. “Mmm… yeah, I don’t feel so good, actually…”

They ran through the field, Hyrule stumbling on every step as Wild pulled him along. The traveler sneezed and wheezed and coughed, red in the face. The dusty blue coating on his nose stubbornly remained. “Wil’, I don’-”

A massive boulder slammed into them from the side, crushing Wild and snapping Hyrule’s left arm.

The traveler howled, gritting his teeth with a choked gasp. The force of the impact knocked him back, and broke his arm, sure, but it hadn’t been aimed at him.

Wild… Wild was underneath the boulder.

Through his daze, Hyrule stumbled back to his feet. He grunted, shoving at the boulder with his good arm, silently praying that one power bracelet would be enough to move it off his friend. And move it did, shifting slowly and agonizingly until a red-stained blue tunic was fully uncovered.

Behind him, another boulder flew by. Hyrule gasped, diving down into the grass. It was tall enough to hide both him and… uh… Blue Tunic. Peeking over, he could see a giant rock monster, lumbering aimlessly through the field.

Hyrule closed his eyes, trying to fend off the dizzy spell that threatened to take him down. He sighed, resting his head against the red and blue pillow underneath him.

It was warm.

And wet.

And… breathing?

Hyrule sat up with a gasp. No, it wasn’t a pillow. That was his friend, his friend who was dying after getting hit with… with…

The traveler squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t matter. He needed to help his friend.

-> read the rest on ao3!!