#she has so many tags it's impossible to get the right ones honestly

[missnxthingg]

𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬, 𝑭𝑹𝑶𝑴 𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑭𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑪𝑶𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑶𝑭 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑳𝑫 . (𝑺𝑴𝑨𝑼 𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑰𝑶𝑵) - 𝐹𝐼𝑉𝐸 (𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 - We're close to an ending, I'm so sad 😭 Also, another big one, so don't forget to check part two and the original chapter!

original chapter | series masterlist | main masterlist | taglist | pt 2

yourusername

Zandvoort, Netherlands

yourusername Back to travelling the world! The stroopwafles were way too delicious 😋

username1 You're so effortlessly beautiful

username2 the comms queen is back! we missed you, y/n

landonorris save me a stroopwafel

↪yourusername you ate all that i had 🥺 ↪landonorris ooops sorry 🫣 ↪username3 he's so unhinged, i can't

f1gossip

f1gossip After spending summer break together, Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were seen very cosy in McLaren's garage in Zandvoort. Even though they've been best friends for years, they always prefered to not show any affection for each other during work to keep it professional. Do you guys think anything has changed?

username1 It's obvious that they've been together since Miami

↪username2 pretty rich of her to only get with him after he started winning ↪username3 A gold digger, that's for sure ↪username1 I didn't comment this for you weirdos to come and hate on Y/N. She's the sweetest and Lando really loves her.

username4 god, i hope they really are together 🥺 just look at lando's summer break pics, they absolutely love each other

↪username5 and let's pray that if they are together, that they will share it with us. so many love them together, but i think they'll keep it very private ↪username6 Lando always did that to keep Y/N and Ollie safe. He knows how things work when you're famous

username7 I'M SO READY FOR THIS

oscarpiastri added to their close friends' stories

Caption: I don't think that's very professional 👀

↪yourusername replied to your story: I'M GOING TO KILL YOU

↪oscapiastri: it's on close friends ↪yourusername: one small mistake and this would've been up the internet. as a friend AND pr, i would've murdered you ↪oscarpiastri: sorry, y/n

↪landonorris replied to your story: send it to me, mate

↪oscarpiastri: you had a better reaction them y/n ↪oscarpiastri: sending it

landonorris

landonorris Yup 🏆 More like it

tagged: yourusername

yourusename I love you, my race winner ❤ what a statement today!

↪landonorris I love you more

username1 THIS IS THE HARDEST LAUNCH OF ALL HARD LAUNCHES

username2 FUCKING FINALLY

username3 We lived to see Lando kissing Y/N right after winning with a 22 second gap in Max's home race 🥺

↪usename4 honestly, i don't think life can get any better than this

maxfewtrell Proper job this weekend brother. Put your shirt back on and stop being indecent with Y/N

↪maxfewtrell (I'm happy for you two, btw) ↪yourusername We love you, Maxie ❤ ↪landonorris Thanks, mate

username4 Gold digger 💀

↪username1 Stop it, we're not gonna let you ruin this for them ↪username2 you clearly don't know anything about them, so fuck off!

yourusername

yourusername Since he decided to give you hardest launch, here are some pics from the most amazing weekend of the year ❤ Proud of you, my love

tagged: landonorris

oscarpiastri Does this means that I can freely post pictures of you two on my stories?

↪yourusername NO ↪username1 YOU KNEW? ↪oscarpiastri Everybody and their mother knew

landonorris You make me the happiest ❤ I love you so much

↪yourusername I love you more ↪landonorris Impossible

username2 STOP THEY ARE SO CUTE

username3 mother, now feed us with all the unseen pics of you as a couple

↪yourusername Incoming...

username4 Don't you think that's a bit unprofessional? She's literally wearing a McLaren uniform

↪username5 They have always kept things professional while on the paddock, and clearly this doesn't affect his race results ↪username6 I know someone said it before, but we will not tolerate this type of comment about their relationship. Lando loves her and she loves him. Period.

username7 all of our dreams literally came true 🥺 i'm so happy

↪username8 us lando stans have never been so happy to see our boy happy

landofan

landofan Since they finally told everyone about their relationship, we rescued some pictures of Lando and Y/N (and Ollie) through the years. We're so happy to finally see them together ❤ We also want to take the opportunity to say that we fully support this relationship and that we'll not tolerate hate comments towards Y/N. It's clear that she makes Lando very happy and that this is very special to them.

tagged: landonorris, yourusername

username1 THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THE CUTEST

username2 i swear they are going to have the prettiest family in the future

username3 I need a wedding and thousands of kids from them

yoursername Thank you so much for the message! It means a lot to me (and also, the cute baby Ollie pics, ty for bringing them back to me).

↪landofan OMG! tysm queen ❤ we love you together and we'll always have your back

⋘ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 // 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 ⋙

[killerpancakeburger]

Outpace the dawn

Gif by @silverformymonsters

Summary: BG3 Spawn ending Fix It fic! Because I refuse to let him deal with the sunlight alone.

Pairing: Astarion x Reader

Warnings/tags: SPOILERS obvsly, angst/comfort, non canon compliant.

Words count: 936 words.

A/N: It should be Gender Neutral, but if I fcked up since I tend to write from my pov, you can tell me and I'll correct it.

Yes the title is from that Hozier song. It got me thinking how Astarion would need to outpace the dawn from now on.

Astarion’s voice cut through the silence that followed your last battle, as your little group was gathering on a pontoon.

“So, what’s next for us?”

You had been thinking about what was to come for a while, actually. Probably longer than any of your companions have. Some might argue that it wasn’t the time for that, that you should have been completely focused on defeating the Netherbrain. But you couldn’t help it; it was a matter of life and death - Astarion’s life and death. Or rather, undeath and death. Since you’ve known that the brain was within reach, it had become an omnipresent apprehension in your mind.

The slaughter of the brain sounded the death knell of the tadpoles, and their disappearance inevitably meant that Astarion’s resistance to the sun would vanish like it never existed. Like nature rightfully reasserting itself by getting rid of this aberration that had been a vampire walking in the sun in the first place. 

This knowledge has been haunting you for days and nights now. It was your first thought when you woke up and your last when you fell asleep. A knot of dread had settled inside your stomach, making it hard to fall asleep and to interact normally with the source of your worries. And right now, following Astarion’s question, the knot in your guts got even tighter, even more painful.

At any moment, any second from now on, your vampire lover would catch fire as surely as straw in the summer. 

It was fine. You planned. You prepared for this. You procured a large, thick, hooded coat that was guaranteed to block the sunrays. It was even imbued with magic that made it impossible to tear, pierce, or rip in any way. It hadn’t been easy to acquire, but Astarion didn’t need to know that. 

You were on the lookout for any sign of burning, wound as tightly as a spring while still trying to appear normal to the others.

“The world is our oyster, and she has many pearls we can choose from.” claimed Astarion, blissfully unaware of his fate.

He illustrated his remarks by spreading his arms far apart with vigor. The genuine excitement, the happiness in his voice almost made you sick to your stomach. Astarion’s displays of authentic joy were few and far in between, and this one would end as soon as it started. As fast as a vampire spawn left in the sun, as a pile of ashes on the ground.

You could barely bear to look at him. You didn’t have the heart to remind him of his imminent doom. He obviously had forgotten about it for the time being, and while the cruel reality was taking up almost all the space in your brain, like blaring alarms, you’d be damned if you took away from him his last, his only instants of light and warmth, of complete freedom, by reminding him. No Cazador, no tadpole, no mind control, no deadly sunlight, no slave and no master. Just an immense ocean of liberty, intoxicating, vertiginous.

“I honestly don’t mind what we do, once we get to- Ow!”

You instantly straightened up at the sound, like a wild animal who picked up the sound of an upcoming danger. For a terrible second, there was a twisted part of you who felt relieved. Finally, your gnawing, agonizing wait was coming to an end. Then, swiftly, the relief disappeared, flooded with your concern for Astarion. 

“What the- Oh no. Oh Gods.”

Already his hands were fuming, his beautiful pale face sprinkled with silververy cracks like delicate porcelain. He had always looked more like a piece of art than a living being after all. The frantic panic in his voice was like a punch to the chest. In all your battles and struggles together, you had never seen him so horrified. Even against Cazador. Even a True Vampire had to yield to the Sun.

He threw you a harrowing look, like he was bidding you goodbye before bolting. As if you were going to leave him to deal with this alone. Already you were rushing towards him, the life-saving coat in hands. You wrapped it around him as fast as your hands would allow, put the hood on, and gently grabbed him by the shoulder, turning him so his covered back would take the blunt of the light.

“There we go, you explained softly. This will block the sun.” 

“You’ve got this, and I’ve got you.” you added, mirroring his own words.

You were smiling sadly, trying to be supportive, to not add to his burden. The look in his eyes was hard to describe, an intense blend of heartbreak, vulnerability, and gratefulness. 

“Well… It was… it was nice while it lasted.” he managed to articulate, his voice breaking like he was about to cry. 

You could feel your heart break in response like an echo.

The magic sunproof coat was in no way a solution. Barely a bandage on a sinking ship. You had to get out of the sun, quickly.

“Come on, love. Let’s get you some shadow, uh?”

Your encouraging smile was as fragile as a spiderweb. You could feel it teetering on the edge of an abyss. 

Astarion simply nodded, like he didn’t trust his voice anymore. It was fine. He was already expressing so much through his gaze.

You put your hand on the small of his back, barely applying any pressure, threw a telling look over your shoulder at your other companions, and you both started your search for protective darkness between the walls of Baldur’s Gate.

[ninapi]

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

┊┊┊✧ ⁺ ⁺╚══ Kimetsu Daddies: Vol.1 ╝

Premise: Everyone has insecurities and parenting can certainly bring even more to the plate. Taking a trip to memory lane to the first days of his fatherhood journey makes Sanemi realize maybe he isn't half bad himself.

Word Count: 3639

Note: This is a prequel of sorts for my previous story "Liquid Sunshine" (which you can read here if you haven't yet), starting right after bonus chapter 2, but this is also the beginning of a new series as you might have guessed by the title change, lol. My love @huh01011 requested some smut to be added to this series, I must warn you all, I am not a smut writer, and there's not as much in it as I wanted it to be, but I tried to incorporate some in a way~ Also tagging pookie @cock-ainee who wanted to be tagged here ❤️

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Summer was a dreaded season in the Shinazugawa household.

The excessive moisture in the air made almost impossible to work the fields for the younger lads adding even more load to the already overworked Sanemi.

Sanehiko, who could stand such temperatures, was the only one able to aid his father with the animals and the fields as his beloved mother was feeling under the weather.

The last few weeks had been odd. After having such an eye opening conversation with the children, your mood had been sour, making Sanemi feel he had done something wrong.

Dealing with so many little ones, he assumed you were just a bit overwhelmed, baby Sae was still a very demanding baby and Senri, who just started walking on his own, has been climbing trees and running around like a madman, plenty of reasons to be a bit grouchy.

But that was far from reality.

“Sanehiko, where’s your mother?” Sanemi asked his eldest as he hauled the entire harvest of tomatoes on his back.

“Last time I saw her, she was cleaning her own puke near the bath.”

The sound of exploding tomatoes hitting the scorching hot ground made Sanehiko shudder at the thought of the lost produce, “WHAT? She was doing WHAT?”

“Ugh…she was…” the boy stuttered, his mother wont be pleased knowing some of the tomatoes were squashed down by his father’s annoyance and it was most definitely his fault…”She was…ummm…on the floor? Yes, she was on the floor, with a rag cleaning after her…” he smiled proudly, able to recount the facts with as much details as possible without sounding so aggravating.

“Why was she on the floor Sanehiko? Is your mother sick?” panic was written all over Sanemi’s face, if there’s something that terrifies him is the thought of ever loosing you.

Thinking back, Sanehiko realizes he isn’t even sure why his mother was in such predicament, making him feel worse for not stopping to help her, “Not sure father, Genma is the one in charge of mother…I had to come get the milk out on time…”

“Tch, bring the tomatoes inside.” without a second thought, Sanemi marched back inside the house, in search of his darling wife who seemed to be feeling even worse than he thought.

When he found you, Genma was rubbing your belly in soothing circles while you clutched a pillow close to your face, “Hey, my love…what’s wrong…?” his tone of voice was laced with honey, he hated seeing you in distress and he knew you’ve been struggling lately.

“Nemi…” your voice was so weak almost a whisper, he could barely hear you.

“Yes, baby tell me…” holding your hand, he crouched down beside you, giving your knuckles an adoring kiss.

“I-…another one is coming…”

“What do you mean, babe?” realization hit him hard, your pale face, the morning discomfort, lack of appetite, uncomfortable nights…”Oh….OH?…you’re pregnant again, my love??” his eyes went from imminent despair to happiness overload in a mater of seconds, making you chuckle.

“I think so yeah, pretty sure actually, Nemi…isn’t it too fast…? I…I honestly thought Sae would be the last one…at least for a while...”

“Do you not feel comfortable having more children, baby?” sadness could be heard in his voice, but he would respect your wishes, no matter what they were.

“It’s not that, my love…it’s just…my body is still tired, Sae is still breastfeeding, I guess this time is really taking a toll on me, that’s all. Of course I want to bring your babies to this world.” your gentle reassurance brought him back to life, you were all that mattered to him, his entire life, a gift he had been given, one he would protect at all cost.

Forgetting his tiny son was around is one of Sanemi’s traits now a days, Genma was listening to the entire thing, mauling things over in his little head silently while you held each other, his sister however, had been hiding under the window seal, also listening.

“Mama, what’s pr’gnant?” Remi climbed her way into the room through the window, quickly sitting beside Genma.

“It’s when mommy has a baby inside of her, angel.”

Genma gasped loudly, “You did this to her, didn’t you father?! That night! I knew it, you hurt her!”

“No, no baby. Your father didn’t hurt me…he gave us another member of our family, it’s just…you know summer is tough on me, my love, having a baby inside is harder at the beginning, I’ll be ok in a few weeks, I promise.”

Sanemi was speechless, he couldn’t believe his son kept insisting on him hurting you, like if that was actually a thing, he was incapable of hurting a single hair of your head and he would have thought his own son would know this.

“But mother! You shouldn’t have to be this sick! We are already so many in this house! I don’t want you to be sick! Please stop putting babies inside of her, father!” the toddler started wailing, his sister not completely understanding why he was in such distress, hugged him gently. “Mama is ok, nii-nii, don’t cry…”

Sanehiko came into the room when he heard his brother crying, Sae sleeping on his back while Senri was holding his hand, “Genma? What’s wrong?”

“Mama ate a baby and he’s sad…”

“She what?” this time Senri was the one who started crying, his sister’s words scaring the hell out of him.

“I’m pregnant again, love. That’s all.”

“Oh yeah, I thought so. We heard you after all, that’s just how it works, right father?” Sanemi just nodded absentmindedly, while he was happy with the news, he started questioning his fathering skills lately. Genma clearly doesn’t trust him and even thinks he’s capable of hurting his mother, what could possibly led him to think that way? Was he a good father even? He knows he’s strict, having to provide for such a large family isn’t easy, discipline is needed, but he loves his children and he thought they knew it…

Getting up from his spot beside you without saying a word, he walked outside of the house and up a small hill he goes to when he needs to think. Contemplating his own mistakes was more daunting that he ever imagined, memories of Genma’s constant terrified face hunting him.

Sanehiko left the babies in your care and ran after his dad, “Father, are you ok? Mother looked worried…Is the baby sick?”

“No…no, the baby is fine…is your brother who worries me..”

“You mean Genma? Or Senri?” he plopped beside his dad, both had the exact same pose, legs crossed, a half scowl on their faces, it was like seeing himself in a mirror, just that without scars.

“Genma…”

Nodding, Sanehiko let out a sigh, he understands his dad’s predicament, Genma isn’t a difficult kid, he is actually quite a sunshine, but he is obsessed with his own mother and that makes Sanemi’s odds against him most of the times.

“He stopped crying already, father. It’s not that he doesn’t want another sibling, he just doesn’t like it when mother is sick. This time she really is in bad shape though, is it the heat again?”

“Yeah…heat has always been hard on her, specially when she’s in her first trimester…” that made Sanehiko think, none of his siblings had been in that part of pregnancy during summer, not that he can remember at least. “Really? Was it Genma?”

“No, it was you actually…” the memory of you throwing your guts out of the window during summer nights made a faint smile grace his lips.

“Was I a difficult baby, father?” Sanemi’s smile just kept growing with the memories, “Not at all, you were the quietest of all, a true gift…” 

Sanehiko had never seen his father this soft before, it felt oddly comforting knowing he was talking about him just now. “Did I give mother a hard time then? I feel like we’ve never talked about this before…” 

It was crazy, but true. Having to run a farm kept you both very busy and the more babies came, the harder its been to just sit down with your eldest and have a nice chat.

“We were young and inexperienced when you came to this world. For the longest time we thought you were a virus because she couldn’t eat a single thing without puking…” a soft chuckle left his lips as he remembers those sleepless nights of him rubbing your back until you could fall asleep on his lap, holding you while the moon shone above you, illuminating your beautiful face. Those days were quiet, nothing like the ones you have today, and honestly, he kind of misses them. Having you all to himself all day, all night…the intimacy and love remains, but there’s limitations to what he can or cannot do now.

Sanehiko chuckled along shaking his head, a clear image of his mother being painted by his father. “How did you guys know it was me and not a virus then?”

“Hmmmm…after a lot of arguing, I threw your mother over my shoulder and took her to see the doctor downtown, she wasn’t eating and it was making me anxious…”

“You're just like Genma, father.”

“Huh? What do you mean just like Genma? He’s the least similar to me from all your siblings.”

He shook his head, smiling “He’s just like you, father. Mother yawns and one of you is right by her side with a blanket, she coughs and there’s fresh tea in front of her in seconds. She makes a slight noise and the entire house is checking on her, those are the Shinazugawa genes, father, they come from you.” 

Maybe he was right, maybe he and Genma had more in common that he thought, getting the child to see that would be harder though.

“So, you took mother to the doctor. What’d he say?” this is the first time Sanehiko has story time with his father since he’s a little kid, it made him feel fuzzy inside and wanted to hear more of his upbringing.

Sanemi seeing his interest, turned to face him with a grin on his face, “Then he tells us she isn’t sick but round and full with our first child. I still remember that day like it was yesterday, man was I happy…” 

“You were happy because I was inside of mother?” he wasn’t expecting to hear that, while he knows his father loves getting his mother pregnant, he isn’t one to celebrate or smile like that.

“Of course! There was nothing I wanted more back then than to see your mother stuffed full with my child. I can’t expect you to understand this yet, but there is nothing better than knowing a piece of you lives inside the woman you love…”

“A piece of you…am I a piece of you, father?”

“Damn straight you are, son. Half of me, half of your beautiful mother, the result of our never ending love…”

“I’m the result of your love…” Sanehiko has never felt this loved before, his parents are usually very caring and understanding, but hearing his stoic father saying such a thing made his eyes fill up with tears.

“You really love mother, don’t you father?”

“More than I could ever thought possible, son…” Sanemi’s smile was pure, soft, love could be felt from the air around him, it was palpable.

“And…us?” while he was scared of asking, he knew his father loved him, yet somehow he needed validation.

“I love every single one of you with all my heart. Even when it doesn’t seem like it.”

Sanehiko scooted closer, wrapping his arms around his father in a way to comfort his aching heart, “We know you do.” resting his cheek on his son’s fluffy hair, they stay there in silence, until you called out for your eldest for help.

Sanemi decided to stay a little longer contemplating life once more.

Thinking about the days when you two were younger and so very much in love brought a permanent smile to his face. 

Sanehiko’s arrival was indeed the peak of his lifetime.

When you agreed to let him move with you to the farm for good, it took just a couple of hours before he had you pinned to the bathroom wall, this time without clothes in between, marks of his passion for you littering your beautiful silky skin, those gorgeous lips parted for him and screaming his name as he rammed into you nonstop, quite the memory really.

And it continued for a while, every day and night the growing needs to posses you, to fill you up with his essence, was overbearing. He needed the world to see you were claimed, to see you were his and his alone, that every single bit of skin on that beautiful body of yours was his, that your heart and all your love within it was exclusively just for him.

Memories of your face contouring with pleasure as he sucked on your perfect perky breasts like it was his last meal, the screams leaving your pretty lips and carrying his name through the wind every time he pushed himself within you as deep as he could and then some. The heat inside of you squeezing him dry, then making him hard once again at how good it felt to have you cum around his aching manhood, at how tightly you clenched around him with your core, holding onto him like if your life depended on it. He truly misses those days when his name echoed in every single wall of the house, your melodic moans and the sound of your heavy breathing all that could be heard for miles.

But when he held his first child in his arms, his world got upside down. He just didn’t know what to do with himself.

While he had witnessed all the birthing of his siblings, he had never felt such a bond before. The way Sanehiko’s eyes were barely open, how he held to his large manly thumb for dear life and hugged it to sleep, how he would snuggle on his chest and just lay there for hours just changed him.

You were his angel, his wife, the woman he loved from almost the moment he met you. A true gift from the heavens, but this baby…this little human in his arms….he was the outcome of your passion, of your fierce love for one another, he held all your dreams, your future, this tiny little thing who fit in his palm was the reason you both lived to that day, he was your anchor, the very core of your family, your reason to get up every day and make a living out of that devastated farm.

Sanehiko meant hope, joy, love. His first child, the one he so wished to have, his pride.

While he thought you’d be pregnant right after Sanehiko was born, because being real, he had his way between your legs daily; Genma didn’t come for a while.

You had time to bond with your first child, get to know him, play with him, teach him how to tend the animals. Being a parent isn’t easy, a first born gets to experience all the ‘firsts’ after all, but overall the learning experience helped you both create patterns for the future babes. While none of the kids were alike, at least it gave you a foundation already stablished to raise your children, and it worked quite well. Until lately, that is.

The heat was finally dimming down a little signalizing the day was coming to an end, the need to check on you being more significant than the dread he felt of facing Genma.

Heading inside the house he noticed Sanehiko was reading a story to the younger kids, Remi being already asleep on his leg. The sight made him smile, memories of little newborn Sanehiko still fresh in his mind.

In your room, Genma was still looking a bit sulky but you looked way better, lunch already gone from your system.

“Hey beautiful…felling better?” he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You’re normally not as physically affectionate in front of the children, but you could feel your man needing comfort.

“I am, baby. Don’t worry, our child is going to be as healthy as the rest, of that I’m sure. You know the heat hunts me when I’m pregnant…” your soft giggles made him smile, “Yeah I was telling Sanehiko that story earlier, how you’d puke every night and could only sleep on my lap…” his smile turned to a smirk, his lips finding your neck to give it a little nip.

“Mmmmm yeah…good old times…we need to time babies better so I never have to spend another first trimester in summer again though…” groaning you turned your head to bury your face in his soft hair, his natural scent was just so comforting, it made you feel better almost immediately.

“Yeah, I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to…” his soft tone and apology startled Genma, he’s rarely ever heard his father saying his sorry for anything, let alone be this gentle.

“I’m just as guilty of this as you are, my love. You don’t need to apologize. On the contrary, thank you for giving me another treasure…” the feeling of your soft nose buried in his hair was making him feel so emotional. Earlier he had felt like he sucked at being a parent but after bonding over it with Sanehiko and reminiscing of the time he was born, he just feels so complete…

“Thank you, babe…without you…I wouldn’t….I…I don’t know what I’d do or where I’d be without you…” his words were chocked up, Genma was still in shock, he could feel the emotional state of his broken father filling up the air.

“Father…are you ok…?” Genma held onto Sanemi’s leg, hugging it with his tiny body. It’s been a while since he feels his toddler’s warmth.

“I am son, thank you for asking.” 

“Father…I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier, I don’t understand this baby thing very well…but I know you wouldn’t hurt mother now…” Sanemi’s heart grew three sizes, he didn’t know he needed to hear this so badly, but turns out he did.

“You know? Sanehiko told me earlier that you’re very similar to me…that your obsession with your mother is all my fault for being your father…” that made you laugh, while it is true, it’s kind of ridiculous.

“You two are very similar that’s true, loving, gentle, big hearted sweethearts and gorgeous babes~” the last part made Genma fall into a crazy fit of giggles.

“Mother, how was I as a baby? I know Nii-chan was very attached to father, was I always attached to you?”

“Well yes, you’ve always been very much a mama’s boy…but when you were born…God…I had to line up to get some time with you, your father would hog you away and keep you all to himself all the time, even Sanehiko was jealous back then!” 

“I did not hog our child, ok? I was just…happy…” Genma’s little ears turned bright pink, he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“You were happy because I looked like my uncle?” while that was part of it originally, it wasn’t just that, he truly had a wonderful bond with his sons, he was happy to welcome a new one after so long, Sanehiko was already a toddler back then and having such a cute little baby coddled up on his chest would make his heart sing every time.

“No, when you were born you were bald, we didn’t even know you would have dark hair.” that was a lie, but it made the child glow with happiness, being cared for just for his similarities to his uncle is something he’s feared his whole life.

“Bald? I didn’t know I was an ugly baby!”laughing wildly, Sanemi lets go of your waist to pick his son up in his arms, “Nah you were the cutest baby I’ve ever laid eyes on…”

“Cuter than Sae? She’s real cute, father…” his little hands wrapped around Sanemi’s head, his cute tiny nose nuzzling the side of his face as he giggles happily, this sort of affection normally reserved just for you, made Sanemi think he might have been finally forgiven by his son.

“Oh she is, alright, she looks just like your mama. But you…your eyes were so full of love even when you were a day old…I’ll never forget the first time you smiled at us…We knew we were blessed that day…” Genma has never been this clingy with Sanemi, but it felt just right, it reminded him of a young Genya clinging onto him for support and for comfort, days that had been long forgotten, days he holds dear in his heart, those days filled with nothing but happiness, those came back thanks to you, thanks to the beautiful family you two were able to build based on love and trust.

Being a father isn’t easy, and six is indeed a very large number, but he would do it all over again as many times as needed just to see the smile in your face every time they’re around.

“But father, are you going to explain me now how does the baby pee work? Can you make more when she has a baby inside already? Do they line up? Or do you like turn it off? I’ve been smelling your tea, I didn’t notice anything different, I still want to know what you need to drink to make babies…”

“Oh god…not again…”

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Masterlist Previous Chapter

[historicallyaccuratecheese]

Well, I guess I’m continuing to make these now! Here’s the next part of my thoughts on every Magnus Archives episode! Now, last time I said that I was planning to write about episodes 21-40 in the next post, but as it turns out, the hyperfixation has set in and my thoughts are a LOT longer (so buckle up if you want to read this), and I also reached the tag limit. So, I’m only going to be covering episodes 21-30 here, and then I’ll write about episodes 31-40, and this 10 episode trend will probably continue for the rest of the posts, but that just means I’ll be able to put them out faster.

Also, unlike my first post, where I wrote all of my thoughts after finishing episode 20, all of these ones were written right after I finished the specific episode I talked about, so my thoughts are a lot more clearly documented. Finally, there’s a link to my masterpost, which will contain all the post’s detailing my thoughts on every episode before and after these ones.

Once again, no spoilers for future episodes please, and for anyone who hasn’t watched up to episode 30, spoilers are under the cut, so I recommend turning away until you’ve caught up. :)

- Episode 21, Freefall 🪂

Statement of Moira Kelly, regarding the disappearance of her son Robert.

WHAT THE FUCK??!! MARTIN??!! DAMN, I guess the horrors did get to him! Well, it’s nice to finally meet him, even if his first line was dropping shit on the ground. Either way, I get the vibe I’m in for a wild ride for this second half. ….What was I talking about? Oh yeah, the actual statement. Anyways this one upset me. Not only did it bring out my fear of heights pretty well, but the portrayal of a grieving mother who can’t comprehend what happened to her son was really heartbreaking. The line “The sky ate him” was kind of comedic at first, especially with Jon’s following reaction (love this guy btw, he’s such a loser), but then it became really horrific when I realized how it was just Moira desperately trying to make sense of the impossible horrors she just witnessed. The plot thread set up with Simon and Harriet Fairchild is also very interesting, and the whole sky thing kind of reminded me of Dominic’s visions in Ep. 4. Overall another one of many fantastic episodes, but HOLY SHIT I’M SCARED.

- Episode 22, Colony 🔦

Statement of Martin Blackwood, archival assistant at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding a close encounter with something he believes to have once been Jane Prentiss. Statement taken direct from subject.

….aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!! Ok let’s start from the top. Firstly, I’m really happy we finally got to meet Martin in this episode, and he’s great! Honestly he comes off as more dorky than stupid, and just comes off as a real sweetheart, so Jon’s distaste for him (outside of very different personalities), gets more mysterious. Though all things considered, after what he experienced, I don’t think that the bullying is his biggest worry anymore… Alexander J. Newall does a fantastic delivery, as much as I love Jon’s readings, you can really feel how terrified Martin is here (also “Blackwood” is a sick as fuck last name, and I related to him trailing off about spiders…) Outside of Martin himself, we have Jane Prentiss (or what remains of her) and…well, let’s just say that I don’t find the sex worms nearly as funny anymore. Jane and the worms inside her are absolutely terrifying, and while I would say I’m excited to learn more about her, I wouldn’t be complaining if the institute staff never had to deal with her again. Also the text episode made me, if you’ll excuse my language…squirm. Honestly, this might just be my favorite episode so far. The way that the plot threads from previous episodes connected here was extremely satisfying, and needless to say, I’m very excited and horrified to see where the show goes from here.

- Episode 23, Schwartzwald 🇩🇪

Statement of Albrecht von Closen, regarding a discovered tomb near his estate in the Black Forest.

Worst episode ever because Jon didn’t do a German accent, smh. Ok but in all seriousness, I really liked this one! It wasn’t the strongest in terms of complex themes in my opinion, but it had a great vibe, and was still very interesting, entertaining, and decently creepy. Having a “statement” written before the archives was founded is a really cool idea that’s executed perfectly here, and while we didn’t learn that much about Jonah Magnus, I still found it cool to get a first glimpse of the archives’ history. (Also, given the eye imagery that appears both in here and in other episodes, I can’t help but feel like Albrecht’s wording of Jonah having “good eyes” or something like that is a little weird…) And…now that we have the instance of something that isn’t a statement, but is important being in the archives, I absolutely agree with the idea that Gertrude Robinson organized these poorly on purpose, so that Jon would get the knowledge he needed to have. Regardless, this whole episode had the vibes of a classic ghost story, which while not as weird and off-putting as some of the other horror here, was still a nice change of pace overall. The descriptions of The Schwartzwald were really well done and added to the atmosphere, and I just like the fact that we have another historical episode, that’s also set outside of The UK. Also, the way that they played with the time period at the end was amazing, I already had my suspicions due to the eye imagery, but the reveal of Mary Keay (and therefore Gerard Wa- I mean Keay) being a descendant of Albrecht was still really cool. I also do wonder if the Arabic book was eventually found by Jurgen Leitner in the future…eh, food for thought. Lastly, I loved Martin jumping in out of nowhere, it was both funny, and a grim reminder about how fucked the archives supposedly are, yippee!

Wow, these are a lot longer than my previous thoughts. This, my sweet children, is a phenomenon called “brain rot”.

- Episode 24, Strange Music 🪆

Statement of Leanne Denikin, regarding an antique calliope organ she possessed briefly in August 2004.

Jon, honey, are we not going to elaborate on the fact that one of ✨the horrors✨is literally inside the institute? Like, HELLO? That’s not terrifying at all! Anwyays, this episode continues the trend of making me scared of things I’m not initially scared of, yippee! It had great vibes as well, the weird shit in the attic was made to be as creepy as possible. Initially, I didn’t find this one to be too scary, and figured it was going to go in the direction of “music makes people feel kind of weird”. AND THEN JOSHUA GETS KILLED AND TURNED INTO A DOLL HELLO??!!! Like, I know he was kind of a toxic boyfriend, but DAMN, whatever was behind the calliope and the dolls did NOT have to go that far. (Also until the end I thought he might be Joshua Gillepsie, and like, I don’t care how toxic he is, but you do not dump a guy who bested an evil coffin with his freezer.) Outside of that, It was really cool to meet Sasha! I like her voice, and the introduction was quite funny. (Also, even as someone who has lived in England for over two years, and has a family that is 90% British, nothing hurt more that Jon’s “Americans”.) Lastly, I have a theory, which I like to call “Ringmaster? More like cult leader.” Because I’M SORRY, but you cannot convince me that a CIRCUS, called THE CIRCUS OF THE OTHER, which possessed a HAUNTED CALLIOPE ORGAN, is anything but a cult. (Watch me when I’m inevitably wrong lmao.)

I guess now is a better time than any to say that I’m kind of wondering if there’s an in-universe reason for the music in the background? I mean, considering that the whole framing device is Jon recording these statements, I have to wonder if there’s a reason for the noise we hear, especially with the worms in Ep. 22 and the music in Ep. 24.

- Episode 25, Growing Dark ⛪️

Statement of Mark Bilham, regarding events culminating in his visit to Hither Green Chapel.

HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! I LOVE BEING RIGHT!!! I saw the episode title and immediately assumed this would continue the lore of Episode 9, and I WAS SO RIGHT!!! (Also, I now just noticed that the PCOTDH’s symbol is a closed eye, while The Keay Family’s symbol is an open eye…my cult theory thickens…) Anyways, this was another very enjoyable episode! Firstly, even though it’s far from the first piece of media to do so, I though the way they portrayed a cult brainwashing someone when they’re most vulnerable was very well handled and pretty depressing. I also really enjoyed how the episode isn’t the most weird and paranormal on it’s own, but the knowledge of the connections to Ep. 9 makes us know that it DEFINITELY is, even when the characters in the story don’t. The episode was certainly very spooky, the description of the spinach and the dark church definitely got me. (Also my mom came into my room briefly and when she left she accidentally turned off the light and I nearly screamed.) There were also some really interesting plot threads set up here, like the chanting of the northern most human settlement in the world, the mention of “three hundred years waiting”, and I also wonder if “Mr. Pitch” is an alias for “Detective Rayner.” then…the ending. Holy shit. You know, maybe I DON’T need to know what happened to Gertrude….

Episode 26, A Distortion ☕️

Statement of Sasha James, assistant archivist at the Magnus Institute, London, regarding a series of paranormal sightings. Statement taken direct from subject.

I…what…I don’t even…we are so fucked. Ok, there’s a LOT going on here, but I’ll try my best to formulate my thoughts as clearly as possible. Firstly, this episode easily scared me the most so far, I agree with Jon when he says that the horrors being somewhat friendly is scarier than them being antagonistic, like HOLY SHIT this one was unnerving. But with that out of the way…uh…let’s talk about Sasha! She’s really cool, I like how her character gives us a lot more insight into what working in the archives is like for a fairly regular person (i say this because Jon is weird as fuck and Martin is too nice to be normal, and I mean that as kindly as possible). But…while I don’t necessarily doubt her status as the most level-headed person in the archives, I don’t think that’s saying much. Like, she saw a creepy guy with weird-ass hands who spoke in riddles and knew too much about her and her coworkers, and followed him into a dilapidated building, also she works at the council of ghost stories despite not liking horror. Like, no offense, I’m sure she’s overall an intelligent person, as are most people in the archives, but none of them are beating Joshua Gillepsie anytime soon (yes I’m still thinking about him.) But mentioning the guy with fucked up hands, WHO OR WHAT EVEN WAS THAT??!! I have very little ideas as to how this “Micheal” even connects to the greater picture. I know some people connected him to the mentions of the man with bones in his hands in Episode 8, but that honestly reminds me more of the Leitner in Episode 17. Outside of that, his name is quite interesting, I initially thought that he might be Micheal Crew, but given that Sasha doubts it being his real name, I have my suspicions (although it would give us a connection between this, the words in Episode 8, and The Boneturner’s Tale….hm….) However, I could absolutely see him being Micheal Keay, as he gives off enough ghost vibes to pass as him (and I’m assuming that if Gerard’s dead, Micheal is as well.) Also he is not described as having a Lichtenburg figure on him so…yeah. Lastly, we have the return of THE SEX WORMS. And as happy(?) as I am to see that The Magnus Archives, a podcast developed by RustyQuill.com, that is also licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License, is continuing it’s message of staying abstinent, all things considered, that was absolutely terrifying. I just LOVE the knowledge that the worms are a hive-mind and that Jane might not be the source, I LOVE THAT SO MUCH. In conclusion, I am probably going to sleep with a fire extinguisher tonight, and I am very scared for what the next 14 episodes have in store for me.

Also I guess I’ll mention Tim (the archival assistant, not the dead guy) here because why not. So far I’m getting major bastard energy from people’s descriptions of him, which means I will either love or hate him. Also I found it very funny but also kind of sad that Jon said he only trusts Tim to not prank him in Episode 11, and then he pulled a prank shortly before this statement took place.

- Episode 27, A Sturdy Lock 🔑

Statement of Paul McKenzie, regarding repeated nocturnal intrusions into his home.

Ok, after everything that happened in the last episode, it was nice to get a short and sweet one here. Well, as sweet as an episode of a horror podcast can be. Overall, this one isn’t my favorite, I thought it was a little bit under the standards of creativity for the show as a whole, but that’s obviously not saying much, as it was still pretty damn good in its own right. I think it was definitely very effective with its storytelling, and credit where credit is due, it certainly brought out my fear of weird noises in the middle of the night. And even if I can’t personally resonate with this aspect of it, I do really appreciate how it tackled the idea of mental illness at old age, and while I’d be surprised if the statement wasn’t real, considering where the show seems to be going, it did a very good job at planting seeds of doubt in my mind. But still, it was genuinely pretty crushing how Paul had no proof throughout the entire thing, along with how the cops treated him. It really did make me thing about what would have happened if he hadn’t washed the blood off his hands. It still had a creepy atmosphere, and the reveals at the end were pretty interesting, I hope they show us Marcus’ statement soon enough. Also, the aspect of loneliness in this one did remind me a lot of what happened in Episode 13, so I wonder if there’s some connection there. (Also, I love how I’m 27 episodes in and Jon is STILL roasting Gertrude’s organizational skills.) So while this one isn’t the most interesting for me, I still enjoyed it, and it was nice to have a slightly lighter one after Episode 26. I hope Sasha had a good few days off, she deserves it.

- Episode 28, Skintight 📷

Statement of Melanie King, regarding events at the abandoned Cambridge Military Hospital during filming in January 2015. Statement taken direct from subject.

WHOA THAT WAS SO GOOD!!! Ok, I feel like I should start off with my thoughts on the basic premise, as while those episode is certainly…not the most humorous in its execution, the premise itself kind of is. I don’t know why, but I just thought the idea of there being an in-universe competitor was a really fun concept that was executed perfectly here. It kind of reminds me of something like Hatchetfield and Clivesdale (I don’t know how many people reading this will understand that, but there seems to be overlap between TMA fans and Hatchetfield fans, and also like, shut up, let me indulge in my hyperfixations.) The bickering between Melanie and Jon was great, as was Melanie herself, I’d love to see her again as I think she oddly brought a lot to the world of the series. Although I will say that, while it doesn’t make me like him any less, Jon’s reluctance to buy into statements is a lot more frustrating when there’s another person in the room. I also absolutely love the fact that there’s an in-universe spooky podcast mentioned by name, like, come one, that’s genuinely hilarious. But comedic value aside, this one was definitely pretty creepy. In a similar vain to what Episode 23 was doing, the whole “young people enter creepy abandoned building to film stuff and then get genuinely scared” concept felt evocative of other classic horror stories, and the way they spun it into the context of the show was great. The atmosphere was definitely very creepy as well, as I have mentioned, hospitals creep me the fuck out. And lastly…oh my god, THE CONNECTIONS. So, I’ll start off by saying that all of the skin shit reminded me of what happened in Episode 18 (which I hope is true because I think some connections to other things would make me like that episode more). But that pales in comparison to the fact that we have stuff on THE ANGLERFISH, HOLY FUCK THE ANGLERFISH. I’m SO glad that they didn’t throw it away just because it was in the pilot episode. In retrospect, I think that the story of Episode 1 isn’t quite my favorite. It doesn’t really have to be, as I think the main draw of the episode is getting a first look at the framing device and general vibe of the entire podcast, but the stories didn’t really grab me until Episode 2, which is still one of my favorites. But MAN, this episode really made me appreciate the setup at the beginning so much more, and the knowledge that the people who walked into the alley didn’t necessarily die, meaning that all of those names could potentially come back, is SO exciting to me. In fact, when you consider that Sarah was kind of going through what looked like a possession, I wonder if The Anglerfish is a figure of worship in a cult, if that theory is to be true. (Also I have relatives that live in the same area as Sarah so…maybe I should tell them to watch out for their neighbor lmao.) So yeah, this…this show is just really freaking good.

Note: I have discovered the Leitner rant, and therefore I have achieved true enlightenment.

- Episode 29, Cheating Death ♟️

Statement of Nathaniel Thorp, regarding his own mortality.

I should start off by saying that I love the episode title for this, like, it’s not even metaphorical, the guy literally cheated in a game against death. Well, anyways, the main thing that caught me about the episode was how it absolutely blindsided me. While I was right about the soldier being the same as the statement giver, which I think was supposed to be obvious, everything else in those last six or so minutes left me with a wide-open jaw. (Also, can I just say that I love how poetic this guy just…decided to be? Like, I just love it when the statements really show of personalities with the way they’re written, and it comes with a cool framing device.) Regardless, I initially assumed that it was going in a very traditional line. Nathaniel cheats death, becomes immortal, and regrets it in modern day because he’s lived longer that he really should have. That, combined with the fact that “Death” didn’t seem like the one of the more creative horror monsters in the show so far, had me so prepared to just write this one off as one of my least favorites (once again, not like that’s saying much.) And then the twist comes and HOLY SHIT I WAS WRONG. The idea of there basically being multiple grim reapers at the hands of some unknowable power, who have to gain successors to finally die themselves is absolutely terrifying and extremely clever. I tip my hat to you Rusty Quill, you did a great job at fooling me. Kind of funny considering how this is a story about being punished for your hubris (which seems to be a recurring theme???) I have a few other small thoughts as well. Firstly, I can’t help but shake the feeling that Nathaniel Thorp was an actual revolutionary war soldier, but I can’t find anything online other than the character from this episode. Also, the fact that his fate remains unknown makes me think he’ll show up again, as it seems weird to NOT end the story with confirmation of his death, given the themes. Secondly, a lot of the…less than pleasant imagery here definitely reminded me of Piecemeal and The Boneturner’s Tale. I don’t remember the story inside that Leitner very well, but I might check just in case there’s any parallels between it and this statement. (Update: Not really.) And finally, I was just a little bit intrigued by the fact that we learn no one who was working at the institute in 1972 works there anymore. It’s probably nothing, but given the mysteries surrounding Gertrude’s death, I’m just a little suspicious, both in general, and of Elias because he’s still around. Overall this episode went hard, I’m still kind of stunned by what it pulled off.

Jane Prentiss statement…save me…save me Jane Prentiss statement…

- Episode 30, Killing Floor 🍖

Statement of David Laylow, regarding his time working at an industrial abattoir near Dalton.

You know what, Jon is right, there’s a lot of meat in this show. Not that I’m complaining, I mean, it does fuel my obsession with connecting the dots between statements. Regardless, while this isn’t among my favorite episodes so far, I still had a good time with it. The reason it’s not one of my favorites is purely personal, as I don’t do too well with animal violence. Like, as much as I do really appreciate how viscerally Jonny Sims can describe the statements, I will admit that the opening minutes describing the slaughter house made me more uneasy than the actual horror, and not in a particularly fun way, but it was overall fine. Speaking of the actual horror, that was actually pretty good. The endless hallways lined with doors that lead to precarious situations also kind of tapped into a personal fear of mine, but in a more fun and digestible way. And while the idea of “imagine humans being slaughtered like animals” is something I’ve seen many a time before, it was still much more well executed than many other interpretations of the idea (*cough cough*, peta) and there were also plenty of other interesting themes and ideas, like how the episode touched on the inherent horror of working in a job as gruesome as the killing floor, being enslaved to said job, and the idea that maybe we’re all just walking sacks of meat in the end, and nothing more. As for some other thoughts, I was definitely creeped out by Tom Han, I’m not sure whether or not he’s someone who spreads ✨the horrors✨or someone affected by ✨the horrors✨, and his sudden disappearance was certainly…odd. On top of that, it’s admittedly haunting to know that there’s still creepy stuff going on at the slaughter house, and that this isn’t something that happened to David, and only David. Overall, a pretty good episode, I don’t have much to say about it, but it was a fun time overall.

Tim…save me…save me Tim…

Well, if you’ve made it this far, thank you so much for reading! Genuinely means the world to me when there are people willing to listen to me ramble about my horrible (affectionate) interests lmao. I should have my thoughts on the final episodes of Season 1 out in due time, and while I’m sure it’s obvious, I’m absolutely hooked on this podcast. It absolutely has the potential to become one of my favorite things ever if the overarching plot becomes more involved and this is coming from someone who up until now, wasn’t all that gripped by podcasts. While I’m a little sad that I’m as late to the party as I am, then I remembered “oh yeah, I was in elementary school when this horrifying series came out”, and I’m also hopeful that I’ll be able to be around for The Magnus Protocol while it’s airing (I know it premieres in like a week but still.) Anyways, thanks for reading and hopefully you’ll be around for my thoughts on the next batch :)

[yourgirlniki]

Jackie and Wilson

"For whatever poor soul is coming next"

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x f!reader

3k words

Tags!: No use of y/n, fluff, down bad Johnny MacTavish, not completely canon accurate Soap, first fic! 😎👍

A/N: This is based on Hozier's song Jackie and Wilson - I'm thinking I want this to be the beginning of a collection of one-shots based on his songs, depending on my free time! But again, first fic so please any comments would be greatly appreciated! Was nervous to post but ya only live once Hope you enjoy!

The cushion on the back of the booth wasn’t the most comfortable thing ever. The deep red bump didn’t do much to help an aching back, more of a thing that somewhat fixed the posture of those who sat at it. But who goes to a bar for comfort anyway? Dingy bars aren’t the first place most people would think to go back to after nearly dying halfway across the world.

The sticky floors, the mesh of posters and old mementos hanging on the brick walls. The neon lights, the potent smell- its headache inducing and you don't even have a hangover yet. And there are too many people in here, crowding pool tables and the small dance floor, (if you can even call it that), to be called someplace one would go to calm down and relax.

This is a fact that is true for most people.

But most people aren’t military. Even fewer are SAS.

And absolutely none are John MacTavish.

The man who idolizes the chaotic ways of the world above all else. That’s what has him still in the job quite frankly. The chaos, the ability to live and thrive in an insane environment. For someone like him, these things never truly bothered him. In an odd sense, the smell of alcohol, sweat and far too many bad ideas feel closer to home than he’s been in a few months. A comfort that most don't understand. But he does.

So even as exhaustion tries to take hold, the scott wears a signature giddy smile, adds a seemingly impossible pep to his step, and he drags the 141 into a back table, somehow always energetic. Even after practically wasting away in a desert for the past 3 months, he has energy. It’s honestly absurd.

Even worse is that he always finds a way for that energy to become contagious. As much as his teammates joke and grumble about it, Johnny was their way of restoration, to push forward. He would choose a shitty bar, and even shittier alcohol over a quiet apartment or the pile of paperwork that had to get done at some point. And so, the boys would too. Even if they hid it behind the facade of “babysitting” the grown man.

So now, here they sat, against the trashy cushions, with crappy music, in the dimly lit bar, with smiles and a sense of belonging. They call it a “celebration” of a mission well done, a nod to their success. Definitely not an excuse to just drink the night away, to get the mission out of their heads for a bit. To laugh with comrades and just be… domestic? Is that right? Close enough.. Yeah? Finding their small slot back into normal society.

Don’t get him wrong, Johnny loves his job. Loves what he does, but who doesn’t want to just have a drink at a bar with his mates every once and a while? And that's why he has his third beer in his hand and is snorting and a story Gaz is telling about one of his most recent hookups. A lady who was.. “Bloody crazy! I mean it. Seemed nice at first but don't be fooled, she was insane!”

Yeah, this is home. It’s where he belongs, where he wants to belong, he thinks. With his men, in the middle of nowhere chatting about anything and everything. Confiding in and teasing each other. He trusts them with his life, he can trust them to listen when need be. And yet… there is always that ache. The strange pull in moments like these like something is still missing. It’s been happening more often lately. And it's like an itch Johnny can't scratch. A puzzle piece he can't find but is still absent mindedly searching for. The only issue is he doesn't know what it is, that it just- isn't.

The chatter fades to a muffled sound in the scotts ears for a moment as he lets out a small, genuine smile looking at his group, sipping at the drink in his hand as his forearms lay themselves on the table, hands clasping. Taking a moment to truly thank whatever may be pulling the strings. Bringing him and his boys to safety. And maybe even a small prayer to tell him what the odd nagging in his brain is about. He takes a breath and relaxes, just for a moment. Looking around the bar, truly just admiring the world around him, the bustle of it all, the people with their own lives and ambitions.

How was he supposed to know that was a fatal mistake on his part?

He couldn’t. He didn’t.

He found out a second to late, registered it after he knew he was done for. It was one moment, a mistake, a pause, that would stick with him for as long as it dared. It was a magnet, an invisible force that pulled his very being toward it. The moment he nearly drooled his drink out from his now slack jaw.

Because when his eyes connect with the woman walking through the door, he swears time stopped.

Suddenly, the crappy bar didn’t smell as bad, the music wasn’t too loud, the cushion no longer made his back ache, the room got brighter just from her smile. The very ground shifted, and not in the drunken haze way. He warmed up, eyes wide. A thought process that if he opened them more he would see more. God, it felt like getting a cavity by now, she felt too sweet to even look at.

In a single moment the world shattered around him, everything he knew was thrown out a window, as his mind was occupied by one thought only.

It was only a moment… but by then he knew he was fucked, utterly and completely.

Fate or destiny, call it what you may. An answered prayer, an utter coincidence. It didn’t matter. The bar turned into a museum, a place to observe and admire as his eyes widened impossibly more as his head tilted watching her move. A giggle slipped under his breath as he thought he could be mistaken for Ghost at this point, with his starring.

But your pull, it was undeniable. Even the thought of looking away would cause you to vanish in a blink, never for Johnny to see again. And he couldn’t have that. Not when it was astonishing in the way you simply were.

It only got worse as your group got closer to theirs. A mere table away. When you first walked in it was a trap, a line that was cast into his pond and he was falling for the bait. Confidence is something he is used to in his line of work, but it was usually the cocky kind. The kind that made him want to kick a recruits teeth in for. But you were something different entirely. You demand attention, even if you didn't know it. A high held head, a testament to the world that you were there, and you were aware of it. Thank god it was his attention it demanded, because it was nothing short of a miracle.

The air you lived in became breathable, spreading to his little corner of the bar as he had to remind himself to actually inhale and exhale as he took in the sight over and over again. Committing it to memory. The world became a movie, a fictional place where he wasn’t. One he could only watch and revel in. It was the type that you knew was going to be good before it even began. The one you had been anticipating for and knew wouldn’t disappoint. His heart rate picked up, the same way it would in the field, but in a much less stressful manner now. Jesus, what was happening to him? You must have cursed him. That’s it. The only explanation. Bewitched by not only the view, but the melody of your laugh flooding his ears now at the closer proximity. Leaning against a standing table with a glass in hand, head slightly tilted enough that a stray hair fell to cover your face.

It was comical the way his heart sped up, watching as you chatted with your own group. Something so normal, something you see every single day, was making the big strong man’s hard race like it life or death. And he knew life or death.

Romeo had nothing on him.

Absolutely nothing in the way his brain knew he was to be yours. It had to be, he had to be. It’s how the story will be written, and he will play his role. Stealing your hear that way you have entranced his own. He wouldn’t be able to tell you when he got up. He can’t tell you how his body moved on its own, knowing what needed to be done but not conscious enough to alert his brain.

What he can tell about how perfect it felt to so much as stand there by you. Soaking in your presence was one thing, standing in it next to you was another entirely.

And that's how he found himself face to face with you, who turned to him with a puzzled look, but a kind smile.

He was a goner.

“Oh… umm- Hello, can I help you?” Is all you had to say to him to confirm his every thought. This woman could heal every wound with her voice alone. And her eyes so much as finally looking back at him felt like he was seen for the first time in his life.

“Uhh.. sir? Are you alright?” Your voice rang out again, pulling him back to reality as you hand waved in front of his face slightly. A flattering smile on our lips and your eyebrows furrowed slightly, almost concerned. What came over John MacTavish in that moment is unexplainable.

“I seem to have lost my number—can I have yours?”

Her eyebrows raised. She blinks. Then tilting her head slightly.

He could die right then and there.

Leaning against the table next to her with a stupid, crooked smile and a raised eyebrow, as if he didn't just embarrassed the hell out of himself. A pick up line? That's the best you could do, John? Really? Welp, there goes every chance you had, cut your losses and- Laughter chimed in his ears like wedding bells. And that’s when he froze, every negative thought draining him as he became light. You laugh was intoxicating more than any drink or drug. The kind that was unapologetic and genuine. The kind that has the back of your palm finding your lips as you cover your giggles, nose scrunching and eyes squinting due to the smile. One that made both of you have pink cheeks for different reasons. A joke that probably shouldn't have been laughed at, but coming from the man before you, it eased the tension in the air.

It must have been the prettiest sight Johnny had ever seen.

He doesn’t know how he did it, probably because it wasn’t him at all. Must have been pure luck that after that horrible entrance she seemed kind enough to humor him that night. He bought you a drink and hung on every word you so much as muttered in his direction. You laughed at every joke, good or bad. He made it his mission to make sure he always heard that laugh from then on. To produce it from you.

Oddly enough, it turns out you were one of few words when it came to the actual conversation. And yet it was never rude, ore quiter nature. But more like you were always listening. Every word John rambled on about you picked up, asking questions or simply nodding, expressing your thoughts in your facal expression. Because of this, it seemed like he never looked away from you either, not that it was a bother, it was strangely alright. It wasn’t judgemental, only observant.

He thought he might go buy a ticket for the lottery after you agreed to give him your number by the end of the night. He was more smitten than he’s ever been, and on the dates to follow the swooning only got worse.

Every moment with you felt exhilarating, like he found that missing piece finally after a long search. And that piece loved him back He was insufferable, always gushing about the woman he has the opportunity to take out on a date. And the dates where nothing less of spectacular. The pair was stupid like teenagers in love, but more sentimental, understanding the weight of things better. Arguments never lasted long and if they did they were cleared up before any damage was done. She understood what his job ment to him, and told him she would never make him change that about himself. It was his passion, she can share.

“Just so long as you promise to come back to me.”

And from that day forth he would make a pinky promise every time he left. He was to come home. Time passed quickly, in flashes. It felt like his life went from downtime in between missions, to missions in between downtime. His heart ached for you in the days he was gone, but he always knew he would be home. He would see you again. He found a want to live, even more now that he found his world.

And as time passed them by, he found out she was perfect in the all the ways he could dream of. Especially in the impossible task of calming him down as well. Rough mission? She already had his favorite meal ready and was soothing him over. Nightmares? She was there either on the phone or more recently next to him to hold him and run her fingers through his hair. To much energy? To rowdy? You always found a way to settle him down. His anchor. And he would do the same for her if the day presented itself.

Another plus that made it all that much more, everyone liked you.It wasn’t hard too of course, but it proved even moreso how lucky he got. His family adored you, his sisters taking you in as part of the family already, much quicker than any of his other past relationships. It made him well up with pride.

Even when he officially introduced you to the 141, it was with open arms as well. If he wasnt a unit before, he absolutely was one now. Maybe just a tad bit more annoying with his bragging but of course he brags. Those boys knew how much you were doing for him, and you knew they were keeping him safe. It was a harmony that both sides respected.

A part of him knew that even if all of those people didn’t like her, (an impossible feat if he does say so himself), nothing would change for him. You were his, he was yours. Irrevocably and absolutely. If the world didn’t want them, the world wasn’t for them. Simple as that. Life became sweeter, dreamlike as he fell into a comfortable rhythm. It was almost unbelievable, no, it was unbelievable.

One day, as he was laying on the couch, laying gently on you, nearly dozing off. Then he felt your hand on his shoulder, a soft pat that made him stir but not move as he hummed in response. “Johnny?” You said, soft enough that he had to stir slightly closer to your voice. But he didn’t look up, kept his heavy eyes shut as he mumbles a small “what?”

“Earth to Johnny..” Hmm, that's odd. It mde him sit up the slightest bit more. Must have been laying on his ear wrong, your voice sounded weird. And another pat on his shoulder, a bit harder this time.

“MacTavish!”

And then he blinked. He was sitting up straight, eyes wide as he made eye contact with his Captain across from him, in the same place he left him at the bar. The bar? His cheek stung from the movement of no longer resting on… his palm? His? No that’s not right. His head hurt slightly as the smell of bar flooded his nose. What was he doing in a-

“Soap, you alright? You were out for a bit. Staren’ at nothing.” Gaz said with a smile, slightly concerned.

He looked around, baffled as he took in the same dingy bar he had met you in. In fact in the same spot exactly, same clothes, same drink. Hold on, that can't be right. His head swung back around as he took in the table next to them was, empty. Bottles and cups discarded to the side, napkins crumpled. He heard the bar door shut as his eyes flicked over and spotted the same woman walk away outside, smiling the same as she was before. Only then did it make sense.

His mind filled in the blanks for him as he rubbed his face with a groan. When something is too good to be true, it's probably because it is. Gaz was patting his back as Ghost and Price shared a look that had Price hiding a smirk. But it didn’t matter to Johnny.

What mattered was she’d already left.

The boys decided that's where the night should end, Johnny's head almost embarrassingly hung low as they paid their bill and called a car to take them back to base. This is the first time Scott has sulked in a while, running his hands through his mohawk as he kicked himself for being so stupid. Caught up in a daydream of a random woman at the bar, what a stupid fantasy to get caught in. he was practically mourning something he doesn't even have, never did have. And now something he wouldn’t have either.

The moment changed his life for sure, a memory of fake memories that will haunt his little brain every once in a while when he's bored and remembers this night.

[soliloquent-stark]

this is a bit all over the place, don't mind me. and don't keep reading if you dislike gooey stuff.

as you might know from the lovely asks i was sent (thank you, everyone 💗) it was my birthday yesterday. and unfortunately, as it often happens, some things didn't go so well. i won't go into details, but it was tough, and it sucked to cry on my birthday more than usual (teenage trauma throwback, am i rite) though i admit it was really handy to have a cake to absorb all the tears right up. 🤭

but good things happened, too! and almost all of them had one common denominator: k! (typing it out like this is so silly. she has a name. but for all intents and purposes, she's simply ✨k✨).

without even getting into the actual gifts that my fiancée got me this year—which are as always perfect and thoughtful and useful and just magic—or the cake, or the flowers, or anything else, i wanted to specifically showcase the marvel related stuff that put such a smile on my face:

yes, that balloon gave me heart attacks whenever i walked into the room. yes, i pretended to hate cringy cowboy seb then ended up giggling and blushing every time i looked at him. yes, the spiderman gift bag is from the children's section and we've gifted it back and forth at various occasions for over a year now.

also a superfamily celebration:

i loved feeling like a four year old little boy with my spiderman cake topper <3.

and i obviously won't share the rest of what she wrote, but the card included some sweet quotes i genuinely was so moved by, then i realised they sounded familiar, then i realised it's from my hedgehog fic (which was a gift to her, so honestly we're just throwing the same quotes back and forth pretending it's about steve and tony. it was never about steve and tony).

quoting my own writing back to me?? hello?? queen behaviour right there. also peak moment for me.

(side note, that's not even all the marvel stuff i got from her this birthday. i didn't include any gifts in this post. also, i wish there was a way to show everyone just how many marvel things we own (including fanmade posters, stickers, zines etc. support creators if you can. ❤️) and how much that shocks some people who visit us because it doesn't seem like it goes with the sapphic-grandma core we got going on. oh well, it does now.)

it would be impossible to list why k is the best person in the world without writing actual novels (believe me, i have tried and it was very long) and sharing way too much about her story. but just trust me when i say she is the best friend you could ever have, and she makes me feel so loved and appreciated every single day, which makes special occasions even harder because how do you even top that? well, she still manages to. every time. 🥺

i guess the point of this was to share some appreciation and further my k propaganda, because i can see all the effort and care she lovingly puts into everything she does for other people, and to let everyone know just how much of an angel she is. i don't care if it's corny. and if you've ever seen a comment written by whinysteve, or read her excited tags on a reblog, or directly talked to her, or simply perceived her existence in any form, you already know she's the fucking best. it's not an act, it's all real. should get my shit together and finally wife her up. 🥹

tl;dr: she makes any moment better by just being there; and when she sets her mind to it, you will feel the power of her kindness. at the end of day, to be loved is to be seen. and she's got the world record for best vision. ❤️‍🩹

[clavissionary-position]

Clavis x Emma The Rose From Bed to Bouquet

tags: fluff, slight angst, some suggestive content

Clavis

I'd let Emma take me anywhere. I tell Cyran, Jin, hell, I even tell Chev, that I'm waiting for her to whisk me away. What man doesn't want to get lost in chaos and adventure with the love of his life? I don't just love her legs because of how soft and pretty and infinitely comfortable they are. She walked to me on those legs, and one day, I hope, she'll walk away with me. Somewhere far, farther than far. There's so much of the world I haven't seen, the world and its beautiful people and their beautiful lives. I want to show her and I want her to show me.

Surprise me. Don't let me see it coming. That'll be hard, but not impossible. I know and she knows that sometimes I can be... a little...

Anyway, I've already started packing. Revealing skirts, portable cooking set, shovels, med-kit, sewing-kit, a kit for making new kits, special toys. Cyran asks me if I have any self-awareness. He's already gotten bored and left the room by the time I think to answer what I assumed was a rhetorical question.

He's not wrong; is this supposed to be my surprise trip or Emma's? I deflate a little and plop down inside an empty lavender luggage like an oversized clown. I know what the problem is, but actually thinking on it stings as if I were pressing on an open wound. Not a big wound or anything, of course. Or it's that one wound again. The fear that...

Anyway, I'm almost done packing. Emma need not concern herself with this portion of our future someday trip. I am forever at her service, because she's passed every single test so far.

Emma

I can't help but feel my stomach drop a little when I accidentally come upon the small mountain of packed trunks and chests. Dammit, Clavis. Here I'd been, dreaming up plans for a wild, truly crazy adventure, something that would suit my wild and crazy lover. I was going to surprise him with it soon. I'd spent far too many afternoons giggling to myself as I imagined his face going blank and then blossoming into that sweet, beautiful smile that I loved. I hadn't told anyone else. I hadn't left any clues. It was all still in my head, so how did he-

I see a pair of familiar blue boots sticking out of an open trunk. Then I'm standing over him, looking down at him, wondering how he fell asleep contorted like this. Well, it's not that I don't know the answer. My troublesome king still doesn't let on how hard he works himself. I can only imagine all the extra load he took on just to have time to put this mountain of supplies together. I have to laugh, honestly, bitterly. You'd think he was preparing for the end of the world with half the stuff he has in here.

"Mm...a?" A warm hand latches around my thigh.

I flick him lightly on the forehead.

"Ow... don't do what Chev does...!"

I crouch in front of the trunk, reaching inside to loosen his cravat. His skin is reddish-pink where the fabric rubbed him while he slept. The white of his shirt collar is steeped in the sunset coming in from the round porthole to our right. He'd look like a doll shoved into a drawer if he wasn't so animated. His hand keeps finding my leg, my knee now, but the touch feels strangely innocent and vulnerable.

"I guess the secret's out," I say with a sigh that comes out heavier than I'd intended and yet lighter than what I feel. "How did you know?"

Clavis chuckles, still drowsy. "How could I not? After all, I am..." His brows furrow. "Wait, know what? What secret?"

I stare at him. He stares at me. Five or six seconds go by.

"About..." I venture carefully. I don't know why he would lie about this. "About... the trip I was... planning for us...?

Clavis' lashes catch the last bit of sun as he gives an exaggerated blink. "No... I was not aware that..."

I don't know how he finds room for both of us in this trunk, but he does. Two dolls in a sudden, wild and crazy embrace.

--- Thank you for reading! Inspo was Tom Sweterlitsch's writing style ^^

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

Qna Answers!

Ever since you mentioned that you do darker art besides stardew I've been super curious! Is there anywhere we can follow your work?

NOPE! this is more or less the first time I had much of a social media presence, I did make an Instagram when I was around 12 but I lost the password to it, and honestly... It's best I never find it...BUT I would like to post my other art somewhere! Let me know what social media I should use If you have ideas and I'll go make one! :D

I could use Instagram again but I haven't heard too many great things since I left.

What’s your favorite thing about Stardew? Do you have any other games you’d like to make comics about?

I love the fishing and mining aspect of the game! that and the mini-games. You'd think it be the socializing aspect with what I make but there's just something satisfying about making progress in the mines or getting that impossible to catch fish.

I don't usually have a lot of money to spend on games so I tend to go indie but I also never expected to be making art about Stardew so not really. If I like the characters, I might make comics about them but this is the first time I've done comics about games ever so maybe in the future.

Who is your least favorite bachelor and bachelorette

This was a really hard question to answer, I don't have a least favorite bachelor or bachelorette, I just have favorites. The main reason why is because I've either met people who are like the bachelor's or I can relate to them on a personal level so it's hard for me to dislike anyone BUT THATS A COP OUT ANSWER so I really pushed myself to find something to not like.

I'm gonna get torched but Elliot- gifts are super expensive to get, I know I can just give neural gifts but it's a bad habit of mine of going for the loved gifts and my guys got EXPENSIVE tastes or gifts that aren't easy to get BUT It fits his character as it implies he came from a more luxurious lifestyle. (if the Victorian clothing wasn't a big enough hint) but again, I don't dislike him, he has a lot of comedic potential!

I'm gonna get MURDERD for this one, Leah- I CAN NEVER FIND HER. Her pathing and my pathing NEVER collide and I keep forgetting she goes to the beach to draw sometimes so I never go there and I go to the wiki to find where in the WORLD she is at and 99% of the time is in the cortege but I can't get to her because I don't have 2 hearts yet because I don't run into her unless I remember to look in the saloon IF shes there BUT again, I do not dislike her...I dislike her pathing and that's on me for not thinking ahead. Plus this problem goes away once I DO have 2 hearts.

Whats your favorite crop and who’s your favorite bachelorette?

Coffee! (gee what a surprise 😅) I just love it when I can get one seed, grow it, and then harvest it and multiply my coffee crops by a huge amount! It's not worth much but it's just a satisfying crop to have.

Maru- not exactly a popular pic but I had a lot of friends who were 10X smarter than me growing up so Maru just naturally reminds me a lot of my closest friends, THAT and she's easy for me to bump into in the clinic.

(I ACCIDENTALLY DELETED IT 💀 but I think it said-) What software do you youse and what do you recommend?

I use Krita, and couldn't recommend it more! (scroll down more to the archive and there are more details about it)

and a UGEE tablet BUT I got it as a free gift. So far I haven't had to replace it yet and has lasted a good amount of time (my old ones lasted a year until I had to replace it) so Idk if I can recommend it and it's kinda expensive. (for me anyway) I'm honestly dreading the day something happens to it and I have to get it replaced :(

It costs about $60usd right now

Question Archive! - stuff I was asked before here for you to find :D

(some of it, the rest is tagged with #ask)

Whats your chickens name (the chicken in your pfp)?

Tudee-chi or Tudee for short!

Got any advice for perfection?

This website apparently! That and the Stardew Wiki

Okay I have to ask: favorite Bachelors and Bachelorettes?

Alright! Here's a tier list from Favorate to I'm chill with them!

Do you think that the male and female farmer can co-exist as a pair of chaotic twin siblings with joint ownership of the farm?

And I don't see why not! It's more fun that way

Sorry to bother, but can i ask what you use to draw?

Not a bother at all! I love answering questions!!! I use Krita

Who is your favorite stardew Bachelor?

Harvey! and for the dumbest reasons...Harvey ended up being my favorite bachelor for 2 main reasons

Sorry to bother but do you happen to have any tips/advice on drawing bodies and heads??

I ABSOLUTELY DO!!! it's no bother at all

What you need to keep in mind is that a lot of my advice is a suggestion and what I'm comfortable with-

For the future, this will be a question archive of things I'm asked to keep it easy to find once the Mega pin post is ready!

[simmonsized]

🥑🌻🪐🥐☁️🎨 🧩 for Writers Truth & Dare Ask Game

1. 🥑 ⇢ you accidentally killed somebody, which mutual(s) do you text for help?

Probably the members of my Broblematic server (@outofstrings (bird and fae collectively, u may know of the Post-Cal ask blog), @future-geometries (Jess u are the first person I thought of) and definitely @alexharrier , who I think would probably hide me from the law even if I didn't explain the crime. I am not including beloved @chaton-katreal because I think she is too gentle, i would not want to muck up her life with murder!)

Or you know, my actual partner @notanotherdoodleblog probably LOL

All fantastic people, worth of hiding crimes.

2. 🌻 ⇢ tag someone you appreciate but don't talk to on a regular basis

Honestly most of my friends are pretty busy adulting 8( so we don't get to talk as much as I'd like to. @eggwyrt because our timezones are almost earth opposites. I love u!!!! I miss you!!

3. 🪐 ⇢ name three good things going on in your life right now

- I've got two real life best friends that I get together with and have coffee every weekend together, and sometimes do other things, and this is significant to me because adulthood makes it hard to keep friends, let alone see them.

- I got into the marine ecology lab at my school that I have been pushing for entrance into, despite missing a pre-req. I get to be on a boat for eight hours next quarter! Woohoo!

- I got fanart for a fic I am very proud of but very rarely interact with anybody about, which has boosted my confidence and made me feel really good, and each comment I've gotten since they posted the art has made my heart sing extra loud!

4. 🥐 ⇢ name one internet reference that will always make you laugh

Tbh I can't think of anything off the top of my head. My partner and I met through RVB, however, so we reference old seasons to each other fairly regularly, and I like to think we have a pretty good time c:

5. ☁️ ⇢ what made you choose your username?

(i do not even like Simmons that much but it's a solid username and now is part of my brand. also I am classically a blue team girly lol)

6. 🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

This is an impossible task. Insurmountable, even. There are several!! Many!!! How can I pick one?? So I will list a few:

A. Everything anyone has ever drawn for my fanfics at all ever.

B. SPECIFICALLY everything @alexharrier has drawn for me, ever. Especially specially specially these two gifs which actually make me fucking insane every time I see them.

Honestly, this had me making sounds so incoherent only dogs could hear them, years ago when I did not consider my fic would be special to anyone. I really really really treasure them.

Also both my birthday gifts, Bro at Disneyland, and Bro at Home Depot 💕

C. This artwork for RNG chapter 66, from @101-sve . It is also special to me, and it's been my wallpaper on my phone ever since c: the atmosphere, the warmth, the halo of their hair i just... Yeah!!!!

D. Recent, probably familiar still, this Holy Fucking Shit Beautiful Atmospheric work of art for metempsychosis!!!! by @askinsufferableprickmod . I really actually cannot stop looking at it. It's so gorgeous, and honestly even if it had nothing to do with me I would still be in love with it. The concept of the kids are Gods, as beings outside the mortal world they made for themselves, all that is visible here, and I really really love it!

* I know all of these are things people have drawn for me, for my content, but honestly that is why they are my favorites! It is touching to see someone put heart into something that is related to something you, yourself, also put heart into!!! I love it!!!! I love these talented artists!!!!!

ALSO: we all know Theater of Coolty, but it is so beloved to me, I can recite it in my sleep lol.

7. 🧩 ⇢ what will make you click away from a fanfiction immediately

On top of the other reasons I said I don't like things, you do actually have to convince me 6 times outta 10 if you want me to read a Homestuck fic in the third person. There is just something to the flavor of 2nd person that hits different. There is a reason different perspectives exist, and I think they can all be utilized well, but something about that classic, well-patterned "you, and then you" just gets me, you know?

[lovemyromance]

I have a little rant lol.

In general, the entire acotar fandom is immature and toxic (I honestly think its gotten so bad since nesta's book came out). Most of these people are grown women and men arguing back and forth about characters and ships. It's bad enough that its been going on for years that its sad. "I'll laugh at the elriels or gwnyriels or the eluciens if their ship isnt endgame" Do the people who say that realize how embarrassing they are? Many people are going to have good and terrible theories but bashing people and harassing people over fictional characters is just immature. I also hate when they say "its that [insert ship] the one who is being the most toxic and weird" NO. its all of you. None of us know who is going to be endgame no matter the theories you have or anything. YOU DONT KNOW. So, please, can we stop this already? its getting annoying and weird. This fandom has made it incredibly difficult to know who the next book is going to be about when its right in front of their eyes. Sarah has not made it impossible to know who the next will be about and I think thats why shes been so quiet about because everyone is being so aggressive about this ship war. I just know the moment she announces the couple, she'll get a ton of hate when its not even her fault because people love to twist her words on paper and thinks she's probably doing that but it could mean a whole other thing. Yall have let theories get to your head and twisted words so much that I think it's incredibly unhealthy for all of you to be acting this way. Stick with who you ship or love and of course, you can have beautiful theories, but toxicity is not necessary. No need to go back and forth about who is the real "endgame".

I mean yeah this fandom is insane. Sometimes as I'm aggressively typing out a reply to an anon who calls me a delusional psychotic bitch bc I made an Elriel post they didn't like, I genuinely just blink and think what the fuck am I doing?

It's partly why I didn't want get involved. At all.

I still try to keep to myself. Only even entertain the antis if they come to my posts. I stick to my own tags.

But there are people - and you're right they are from both sides, as I have also said multiple times on my blog -that go out of their way to start a fight on posts they know aren't meant for them.

These are the people that are making this fandom so toxic. Like I understand, no one person can be responsible for a fandom's collective behavior, but you can be responsible for yourself at the very least.

I have always made it clear what i believe acceptable behavior for discourse in this fandom is and isn't. It's not something I can personally enforce for others, but I can follow myself.

It really is crazy how out of hand this fandom has gotten because other people can't control themselves. If I see an anti Elriel post I don't like (and I don't follow any tags, actually, so I see ALL the ships posting), I have the self control to ignore it and keep scrolling.

This fandom has been overrun by childish adults, intent on being louder than the rest. It's crazy how many disgusting things have been said over just fictional characters, it makes me wonder what these people are like in real life.

At the end of the day - there's going to be a book and one side is going to be proven right. It's not worth all these vitriol that's been spewed across all sides just to "be right". I at least, would be perfectly fine to read an Elucien book. If Elriel does happen, I'm certainly not going to lord it over anyone's head and laugh.

Not worth my time. Not worth my energy.

[mimbotomy]

Thank you @lazuliquetzal for the tag! 🩷

How many works do you have on AO3? 10! Which feels small because I have more than three times as many WIPs rattling around in my google docs rip

What’s your total AO3 word count? 561,190

What fandoms do you write for? AC Odyssey! Except I write so many crossovers so I have a couple other fandoms on my AO3 as well. I also have WIPs for AC Valhalla, House of the Dragon, and ATLA. Fun fact, I also have Odyssey crossovers planned for two of those fandoms, and I'll let you guess which two 😜

What are your top 5 fics by kudos? Rebirth - My beloved, my baby, I swear I am still writing this My Miraculous Ladybug fic - I wrote this seven years ago and like to pretend it doesn't exist Assassins, Atlantis, and Avengers - Unfortunately on indefinite hiatus, but I've gotten so many nice comments on it recently that I've been thinking a lot about it! The Children of Kephallonia - MY FAVORITE FIC OF MINE EVERYONE SHOULD READ THIS I'M SO PROUD OF THIS ONE Not a Malákes Ravenclaw - Absolutely ridiculous I can't believe people actually like this (it's so fun to write tho 😂)

Do you respond to comments? I do my best but I'm not actually the best lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Of my published fics, The Lioness, but only if you read the first chapter and ignore my ramblings in the second chapter about how SPOILERS deaths would change canon.

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? There is No Escape...! It technically has the same ending as my other Kassandra drags Phoibe out of the Underworld fic, but this fic has a planned sequel called the Electric Boogaloo, so I think it's obvious which one I had more fun writing 😂

Do you get hate on fics? One or two negative comments but for the most part people have been really nice to me! Which I appreciate, because I am a smol anxious bean who just wants friends 🥰

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I have a few bordering on spicy scenes, but no real smut.

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? BOY DO I HAVE CROSSOVERS I have so many crossovers, like too many crossovers, all putting the queen of my heart Kassandra the Eagle Bearer in another universe and making her the main character she is clearly supposed to be. My craziest one is probably my AC Odyssey x Harry Potter crossover, but I am now hesitant to call it crazy because it now seems to make sense to me??? So maybe I'm going crazy???

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Nope again!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Once again, nope! But I honestly think co writing a fic would be so fun to try, at least once.

What’s your all time favorite ship? Kassidas. I always liked it but it has legitmately taken over my brain the last year. I blame @aeide's amazing Kassidas' fics

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Assassins, Atlantis, and Avengers. It's on indefinite hiatus right now because while I have an outline and even a few scattered scenes written, actually writing it seems impossible right now. But I hold out hope that I will come back to it one day!

What are your writing strengths? Character relationships! (At least in my opinion lol)

What are your writing weaknesses? Does constantly going back and rewriting chapters because I slightly changed my idea and want to foreshadow things better count? If not, I could be better at setting the scene and not just imagining it in my head.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Definitely not opposed to doing so, albiet through google translate because I am truly terrible with languages, but I always try to keep it short and I include translations in the endnotes.

First fandom you wrote for? Miraculous Ladybug. I sometimes like to pretend that fic doesn't exist because I feel bad that I forgot what I had planned/never finished it.

Favorite fic you’ve written? THE CHILDREN OF KEPHALLONIA I feel like I really came into my own as a writer when I started plotting out this fic and I'm really happy with my worldbuilding, character relationships, misc narrative choices, and just how my writing style has improved from my first fics. If you want to read any of my fics, I recommend this one.

I vaguely remember doing this exact tag game at some point, but time is an illusion and I have no idea when this was! So if I tag you and you did this recently, do not feel any pressure to do it again!

Tagging @aeide, @uhhhyaenbyjade, @zephyrwolf5, @ithinkthiswasabadidea, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[laundrybiscuits]

(purify our misfit ways tag | AO3)

Technically speaking, Eddie’s not actually allowed to know any of the stuff he knows about what went down at Starcourt. Robin isn’t even totally sure how much he does know at this point; both she and Steve have completely and without discussion disregarded all the NDAs they’d been strong-armed into signing, when it comes to Eddie, but it’s not like they’ve sat him down and walked him through the night beat-by-beat. 

She hasn’t told Eddie that Steve knows about her, now. She’s not sure why. There’s no one reason that she can point to, she just doesn’t feel ready to have a real conversation about it.

It’s not like Robin to avoid conversations. She’s usually the kind of person who’ll march right up and confront anyone about anything, as soon as she gets the idea in her head. She’s never really understood why other people don’t do that more, honestly—it normally drives her up the wall when people talk around issues and dodge questions.

This is different. It’s not because she’s scared. It just feels too big, like something she can’t see the edge of, looming all the way up to the sky. Every time she starts to think about it, her mind kind of skitters away. She has to think around it, which is getting pretty annoying, actually.

Lately, a lot of things have been feeling really big. She’s so tired of feeling like she’s got all these massive secrets inside her, Russians and monsters and sketchy government agencies and—and the Tammy Thompson thing. It’s gotten so that she doesn’t even feel like she can breathe unless she’s with Steve or Eddie.

She’d thought it was impossible to talk to her parents before, but now she just stares at them across the dinner table and feels like a completely different species. She’s pretty sure kids aren’t supposed to know huge complicated things about the world that their parents don’t, because how would anyone deal with it? How is anyone supposed to live under the roof of people who can walk around not knowing about what’s out there in the dark?

It’s not that she’s scared, she just can’t get herself to believe they know what’s best for her anymore. This isn’t some stupid teenage rebellion, she’s signed official government documents that prove she knows more than they do about what goes on in Hawkins.

So it makes sense, how she only really feels okay when she’s around the two people who know all the things she has to remember not to let slip around everyone else. There’s a line around their little three-person pack, an us-and-them kind of line, and now she finally understands why all the high schoolers she knows are so obsessed with being in cliques: being part of an incontrovertible us means it doesn’t matter how many other groups you’re not in, because you know who your people are. You’ve got a steady place to stand in the world, when you’re part of an us.

She’d briefly considered feeling bad about dragging Eddie into all of this, but it’s not like they’d really had any other option. She swears Eddie can read minds sometimes, with the way he just looks at her and knows what she’s feeling. There’s no way she’d have been able to keep something like this from him for long, and if it just so happened that telling him would give her another safe harbor in Hawkins, so much the better.

Robin lies to her parents all the time now. She never used to, but she never had a good reason to before. But she knows that no matter how much they like to talk about their wild times in the sixties, they would never in a million years let her sleep in Eddie’s bed like she’s been doing lately. She just sneaks out as soon as she hears their bedroom door click shut and bikes over; by now, Eddie knows to expect her. He’s usually up anyway, and when he’s not, he’ll leave the door unlocked so she can come right in and shove at his shoulder until he wakes up enough to move over so she can get under the blanket with him.

She doesn’t go to Steve. For one thing, his parents are around a lot more than Eddie’s uncle is; for another, Steve’s house is much farther than Forest Hills, and Robin doesn’t love the idea of biking for like an hour in the middle of the night. Not now that she knows about what’s out there. She’s not scared, she’s just being practical.

Steve finds out about it when Eddie swings by to visit them at Family Video for the first time. It’s their third shift there ever, and Robin’s already bored out of her mind. It’s not like it takes an abundance of intellect or effort to shelve returns and dust the shelves.

Not that she’s complaining, at all, because this job is a pretty big step up from Scoops—no uniform, just a vest, and no food safety protocols to follow. Plus, they get to put a movie on in the background, even if Steve’s taste is totally pedestrian. She’s working on getting him to appreciate more of her favorites, but it’s been an uphill climb. To be fair, most of her efforts have revolved around pointing out how hot the actresses are. It’s not very subtle.

Robin’s contemplating whether she can sell him on Les Demoiselles de Rochefort when the bell above the door jangles, and Eddie saunters in.

“M’lord, m’lady,” he says, bowing deeply. The one other customer in the store, some little old lady, gives him a withering side-eye. Eddie’s so embarrassing sometimes. She doesn’t bother hiding her fond grin as she leans her elbows on the counter.

“Welcome to Family Video,” she sings out. “Can we interest you in some of our very finest John Hughes films?”

Eddie clutches at his chest, faking a swoon. “You always know the way to my heart, Buckley. But, uh, I just wanted to swing by and let you know that Wayne’ll be in tonight. Just in case.”

“In case of what?” Steve butts in, looking confused.

Eddie looks a little panicked, and Robin really needs to find a way to tell him that Steve already knows about her.

“Um,” says Eddie. “In case…there’s…”

Robin sighs and rescues him. It feels wrong to lie to Steve anyway; it feels like violating the sanctity of their little circle. “Sometimes I spend the night at Eddie’s. It’s just easier than being around my parents, with all the…” She waves her hand, meaning all the nightmares come to life in Hawkins.

“Oh,” says Steve. He’s still frowning. “Wait, doesn’t Eddie live in the trailer park? Is that safe?”

Robin shrugs. “Safe as anywhere, I guess.”

“Okay, but…” Steve glances at Robin. “Is that…the best idea?”

She stares at him, confused. He stares back.

Eddie hauls himself up to sit cross-legged on the counter, glancing between them.

“You’re not supposed to do that,” Steve says, but Robin’s pretty sure he’s just saying it on autopilot. They’re both intimately familiar with how Eddie will scale pretty much any available structure whenever he gets even a little bit bored.

Eddie tilts his head, regarding Steve. “You know it’s not like…she’s not spending the night, spending the night, you know? It’s just trauma stuff, Harrington.” He pauses. “You’re welcome anytime, too,” he says. His voice is quiet, not teasing. Honest and unadorned, in a way Robin’s only ever heard him get with the two of them.

Eddie’s been treating both of them a little gingerly ever since Starcourt. Robin doesn’t mind it as much as she’d have guessed; she has to pretend like nothing reality-shattering ever happened to her at Starcourt Mall with everyone else, but Eddie knows better. If that means he acts like they’re skittish baby bunnies sometimes, she doesn’t mind too much.

Steve never seems to know what to do with himself whenever it happens, though. Like now: he looks at Eddie and then looks away immediately, crossing his arms and uncrossing them again.

Steve never seems to know what to do with himself whenever it happens, though. Like now: he looks at Eddie and then looks away immediately, crossing his arms and uncrossing them again.

“I’m good,” Steve says. “Don’t worry about it, man.”

“Okay. Offer stands.” Eddie hops down from the counter. “Probably not tonight, though. Like I said, Wayne’s home, and I doubt you’re as good at wriggling through windows as Robin is.”

“Uh, are we talking about the same Robin Buckley here? The one who can’t walk halfway across the store without knocking over at least two display racks?” Steve snorts.

“Excuse you, I am not the one who dumped the entire contents of the cash register on the floor yesterday!” Robin says, offended.

“That’s not—I just pushed the wrong button! The latch must’ve been broken! Anyway, that’s different. I’m saying, I could totally get through any window way better than you can, because I’m, like, athletic and stuff. I’ve got moves.”

“Sure you do, Steve.” Eddie smirks, glancing over at Robin. “A thousand pardons; I stand corrected. Long as you can make it through the window, you’re welcome to come by my humble abode any day you like.”

[alexanderflowerbird]

DAY 12

Ahh! Late again! I did write yesterday, mind, but I spent my evening with some of the folks in my writing group talking about one of their projects because they were stomped on some plot beats and we were working together to inspire them and come up with options for them to work with. It was SO MUCH FUN, and I'm so excited to see what they do with the story after this boost of inspiration! But literally after that? Went right the fuck to sleep lol. So here I am, having woken up at 4:30 AM to report on yesterday's progress lol.

I have curated my playlist for Blood Sun Territory, and it is really helping me get all of my ideas in order, and yesterday, I worked chronologically so I'm on chapter two of BST and Malachi is finding his way in the world, figuring out a game plan to get back to Felina and Mercedes. Along the way, he's having these small interactions and I honestly love writing stuff like this. I love an impactful moment between strangers. I love a sudden feeling of connection. I love a random act of kindness, even if the person isn't nice at the same time, because nice and kind are not the same thing.

It was such a pleasure to hang out with my friends and talk about the art we create together. It makes it all worth it to keep working, when people who's work you admire and respect are invested, and proud, and curious, and want to see you keep going. I am that person for a lot of people, but I have those people for me too, and man. What a gift it is. <3 I know I wax poetic about it a lot in these entries lol, but like, times are hard! It would be easy, had been easy in the past, to go to work, come home, lay down and despair. Having no real support can really kill a part of you that's vital to being the beautiful person you are. I'm glad I'm rediscovering this part of me after so much hardship. My love language? It's creation, baby lol Taglist: @tragedycoded @thelittlestspider @theskeletonprior @badscientist

If you'd like to be part of my taglist, please interact with this post!

His first home, temporary as it is, is the Clover Hotel. It’s old, but the property seems to be something of a dearly loved personal project, a building that could probably be bulldozed and forgotten but that someone with money to their name refuses to see it die like so many other classic old businesses in the city. It doesn’t have doors that open on their own or a pristine, sterile lobby like the big name hotels that are slowly swallowing up the market. It has a regular door that pushes in and has a twinkling brass bell over it. It has old sofas and an ancient but freshly varnished coffee table on one side of the space for guests to enjoy tall, west facing windows and a view that isn’t some dull, bricked up alley way but instead a small garden full of hydrangeas and herbs and the occasional bright pop of small sunflowers. He approaches the front desk, and smiles with what he hopes is a convincing level of charm at the older asian woman occupying the desk. She looks at him and smiles back. 

“Hello! Welcome, room?” Her accent is charmingly thick and a refreshing sound when Malachi has been so used to punchy east coast accents and traipsing southern drawls, American accents born from the very land. This woman, her name tag says ‘Suzy’, and her voice reminds Malachi that there’s a whole world that exists, not just this city or even this state. Maybe to find Felina and Mercedes, he’ll have to go across an ocean, see a whole new place. He’d never traveled outside of the country growing up. He nods at her question and imagines what it might be like if he discovers Felina has taken Mercedes to live in China. 

He only has backdrops in his mind that come from old kung fu movies and pictures in books, but it’s still a pretty thought and thanks to Felina’s impossible, unanticipated kindness, his mind doesn’t crumple up the vision and add it to the pile of scenarios where he faces total, devastating rejection. His anxiety does get a word in though as he imagines China’s sleek modern cities, its ancient misty mountains and beautiful villages. He has no idea how much it would cost for him to make it to China, he doesn’t know any words except the ones Leeroy had introduced to him when his occasional-lover had taken a turn towards understanding all things linguistics. ‘Ya know, Chinese is a pretty cool language, Malachi. It’s got a beautiful shape for every word, and sometimes, the word do sound sorta like another word, but you see that beautiful shape and you realize it’s a whole other word!’ Leeroy had been ecstatic to discover the idea of tones shortly after pondering how the symbols could be different but the words could sound so similar. Did people in China always read and speak at the same time? That didn’t make any sense of course, so off Leeroy had gone with a smacking kiss to Malachi’s brow to find out the answer. His reminiscing and daydreaming pop like a bubble as Suzy’s expression goes from friendly to neutral and guarded. She’s looking at the ID he’s given her to put on file. 

“This old, expired. I cannot use expired.” She tells him, setting it on the counter and sliding it towards him. He feels his stomach sink and is surprised at himself in his reluctance to admit his circumstance to this woman when he’d told Leslie at the bank the truth without really thinking about how she might react. It’s nothing to do with either of the women he realizes; when he’d come to Leslie, he’d had no hope at all for success and had been prepared to discover that his first day out of prison would be spent on the street with no food or help because he had no money worth noting to his name. In those circumstances, why not admit he’s a felon? If Leslie hadn’t been so kind, he could’ve dashed his chances right there and not found out about Felina’s money for him at all, let alone have a new bank card. He struggles to decide to take that gamble a second time. Now he has something to lose, though he isn’t sure what. He could find another hotel, or even seek out a shelter for the night, but he has stupidly, sentimentally looked around for the last few hours for a hotel he can temporarily call home, and he’s picked this one, and he wants to be here. 

“I–” He tries to begin. “I know, I’m sorry. I need to get it replaced, but, I…” He can feel his ribs tightening in his chest around his organs. Does he roll the dice and share something most people find repulsive and hope Suzy will understand? This history will follow him everywhere, and just now, it’s not even history, barely history. Suzy watches him stumble through his words with an unimpressed expression and then sighs. 

“You lazy?” She asks, disapproving. Malachi blinks at her. “You lazy.” She seems to confirm her opinion in his shocked expression. “Okay…Malachi.” She says as she checks the name from his ID. She taps it on the counter while she thinks, sighing again, before setting it down. “You listen okay? Outside, Treetop Street, left, go for numbers to 8th Av’,left again, down, down, down, looking for big red letter. Ah… Notary?” She doesn’t look at him to confirm if she’s chosen the right word. “Maybe. You take this,” She emphasizes it and shakes the ID at him a little, “Get new one. Okay?” Malachi nods, solemn and feeling guilty even if her interpretation of what he’s done is entirely wrong. There’s something almost refreshing to feel a new, much more innocent sense of shame. He reaches for his ID from between her fingers and she pulls it back from him. 

“Tomorrow. You sleep here tonight, go tomorrow. You remember?” She asks and the way she looks at him he knows he isn’t meant to just say yes. 

“Treetop, left, 8th Av’, left again, find the notary with the big red letters further down the street.” He repeats back to her, and Suzy makes a low approving noise before offering his ID back. She gets up from her seat and brings him a card key, perhaps the most modern part of the experience and likely an upgrade that the Clover had to make to compete with the security measures of other more modern hotels. Suzy is smiling again, beatific and pleased. 

“You enjoy, come tomorrow with new ID and you stay as long as you like.” She charms, and Malachi can’t help but smile back at her. 

“Thank you ma’am.” He says, dipping his head and tucking his old ID and his debit card back into his wallet. 

“Breakfast at 8, okay? Come.” She invites, and with a little wave, she lets him off the hook, just like that. He’d been scared, damn near terrified for some stupid reason, but a charming little slap on the wrist hasn’t stopped his momentum at all. He doesn’t need to correct Suzy’s opinion about him being lazy, he wants to though. He wants it more than the logical, necessity based want towards having a valid ID card. His room number is 12, and when he makes his way inside and takes a look at the old, charmingly floral decor, he feels a relief and gratitude that crushes him to the floor. He sits down heavily, and leans his back against the door, pressing his face into his hands. It’s a posture of despair, he knows, and it has the same heaviness to it even though it is something entirely opposite. Hope is just as weighty, just as devastating. 

[aheathen-conceivably]

Tag Game for Historical Simblrs! 📖

1. What has been your favorite time period to play in or which one are you most excited for?

As far as actually playing the game? The 1900s. I really did a lot of gameplay and overall it was just a wholesome, pleasant time to play the game. However, it’s definitely my least favorite story wise and I feel like not a lot happened.

So as far as the actual plot goes, I’ve been looking forward to the 20s literally since I began this challenge. While difficult, it has also been so fulfilling to actually see it all come to life. Now, I’ve got my eyes set on the 1940s 👀

2. Do you have a favorite piece of historical cc? (CAS or BB)

Oh this is…impossible 😅

I have gone through so many styles and eras already that I have mainstay pieces for each as well as pieces that just stop my heart. I think the one that I’m fixated on right now is Zelda’s 1920s bob. Of course she’s grown it out a bit now but it’s still iconic in my heart.

3. Who is your favorite sim currently?

Okay another one that is basically impossible. Because like, how do I pick between my pixel babies right now? Antoine and Jo are absolutely my baby angels, and are both my favorites at various points in the narrative.

But it’s so difficult to pick them as my overall favorite over Zelda, just because I’ve been playing and writing as Zelda quite literally since she was born.

4. What is your favorite world?

Currently? Willow Creek hands down. This is more because I’ve transformed it into New Orleans than it is because of any merit it has on its own. I use mods and put in a lot of work to make it look this way, but now, it’s by far my favorite.

5. Are you more gameplay or story focused?

Well….I think we know the answer to this one 😂

Storytelling drives my gameplay without a doubt. I write very far in advance, and that plot is what determines how I tell the story. Often I try and recreate these things as close as possible in gameplay, but let’s be honest, that isn’t always easy in this game.

6. Do you like to play with pets in your historical saves?

Ah, not an awful lot. Because I’m usually in storytelling mode posing sims and trying to get from one scene to another, I can often find them cumbersome. Of course we did have Daisy in the 1900s and she was lovely to have at Darlington Cottage, but I think that’s because I was doing more gameplay in that era so it made more sense.

7. What’s your biggest immersion breaking pet peeve with the game?

Sigh. What always got me was when a family member from another world showed up at my sims doorstep or is just walking in the background. So I’m in downtown “New Orleans” and all of a sudden, oh look! There’s Virginia walking in the background of a scene.

Luckily now I have this mod to get everyone to stay in their world 😉

8. What’s your favorite in-game historical item? (CAS or BB)

Honestly, just to make my life easier, I often filter by Custom Content and call it a day. This is especially true in CAS because I find all the assets overwhelming, I don’t even really use many in-game items there (except for a pair of base game lace up boots I use constantly).

In BB I find there’s a number of small items that I like using, such as the BG coat rack, the flowers from Cottage Living, the round BG dining table, the Tiffany lamp from Cats and Dogs, and a number of others!

I also used quite alot of the Realm of Magic Assets in Zelda and Antoine’s apartment, so I’m really fond of those, especially the Art Nouveau parquet floorboards and wallpaper.

9. What would you like to see as a new pack or asset to the game?

This is a personal one for the story going forward (👀) but absolutely horses. Otherwise, I would love to see more functionality for music and bands in the game, maybe even with some vintage assets to complete that vibe.

10. What pack do you think is invaluable as a historical simmer?

Like I’m sure most people would say, Cottage Living. It just offers so much gameplay for historical simmers as well as a gorgeous world that I’ve gotta select it (see my whole long list of pack recs here).

11. Do you have a favorite mod to enhance historical gameplay?

The mod that is absolutely invaluable to me is Timeless. It is what allows me to get so many scenic screens without pesky objects in the way and also simply makes the worlds so much more immersive to me.

12. What’s your ideal family size for playing?

The 1900s Darlingtons are frankly as large as I can go with the family. So a household of six, max, plus maybe a pet. Even then, I get very overwhelmed. So I usually prefer households of 4-5 although I do also like a household of 3 with an only child 😉

13. Do you use poses?

Goodness gracious, yes. All the poses all the time for everything. Even when I try to use in game animations I get more annoyed that I can’t control the angles as much.

14. Do you use any overrides in your game?

I actually don't! I suppose it would be very useful but its just not really something I've ever delved into.

15. Do you, or did you, play off-the-grid during your game?

Yes, I played off the grid for all of the 1880s and 1890s. I now slightly regret it because this means I was taking all of my photos with candles, and that lead to that heavy yellow tone in all of my early interior photos.

I also played off the grid for most of the 1900s until darlington cottage got that upgrade that included the inside bathrooms. Best moment of the game lol

16. What lifespan do you play on?

I play with custom lifespan settings where 4 in game sim days equal 1 IRL year.

17. What inspired you to start playing a historically?

Whew. Well I was playing my own version of the NSB challenge that I wrote when I hit gen 6. This gen was meant to be a film star, so I kind of had this idea that as her career progressed, her fashion would also go through the eras of old Hollywood. Looking back, I now also realize that this was me getting fed up with the lack of time progression that inevitably comes from playing a “modern” legacy challenge.

Anywho, I was looking for CC for this when I came across the wonderful lookbooks of Pixelnrd. This of course led me to their challenge and I started reading one afternoon. By the next day I had the idea for the Darlingtons already forming in my head 🥹

Thank you so much for the tag my dearest @antiquatedplumbobs I’ll pass the love along to @heartblobs @alainas-sims @taanoir @miraplayssims @lovecidik @someplumberrys @sims-half-crazy @greatbritishsimchallenge and @come-hell-or-high-water

And anyone who feels like answering a whole long list of questions! 🤗

[mr-leach]

Okay so I am so close to taking my supervisor to the side and tearing her to shreds and then taking the bosses aside and tearing them to shreds because there are just so many little things about every single job that are never set in stone to the point where unless you are glued to your supervisor (impossible in my department for reasons that I will soon explain) you will have no idea how to do the job right and at least one thing will have to be fixed/changed and you will of course be blamed for it.

Yesterday I had a job where it was unclear to me where the tags should go on the garment. This has happened so many times that it might as well be a daily occurrence. Our athletic tops usually have the label on the left side seam of the garment, because tags on the collar are obtrusive and uncomfortable. Except when the customer wants the tag on the collar, of course. Usually, when that happens, the technical drawing on the work order reflects this. There's also another, secret rule that if there's two tags attached to the bundle (our logo tag plus the legally required fibre content/washing instructions tag) then it MUST be put at the collar. Sometimes though, the people bundling the job will just throw the additional tags in, even though they're not required, and we're supposed to just know when they're not supposed to be used. I have had jobs with hundreds of pieces where I was given two tags and put them on, only to be told after the fact that I should not have put both tags on. It's very frustrating. Oh, but SOMETIMES the customer will ask for things that we supposedly NEVER do, like they will want shorts with 2 tags, and so in that case we ARE supposed to sew both on, even though normally we NEVER sew 2 tags into shorts.

You can see how this gets annoying.

Now you might think that the order sheet that comes with each job would give us this information. It does not. Sometimes the sheet will have context clues on it, like when there's a tag clearly visible on the technical drawing. Sometimes, if there's only one tag, I know there's an 80% chance that tag goes on the side seam and not the neck. But otherwise, I typically have to ask my supervisor.

My supervisor is never around. She actually runs 3 different departments in different parts of the factory, and she is almost never in ours. She has a "helper" in each department, who is someone that basically keeps track of the work to be done and relays any issues to her (before you ask, no, they do not get paid more for the added responsibilities. Obviously. 🙃). Does the helper have access to the secret knowledge regarding the minute details that aren't accounted for on each order sheet? No. Why the fuck would they know that.

So if I have a question about where the fucking tag goes on something, the person directly overseeing me has no way to answer that question. Oh, but our supervisor doesn't like it when any of us get up from our machines and goes looking for her because it makes her look bad, so I have to ask her helper to do it for me. This goes for any of the half dozen of us in our department, meaning that sometimes, my guy isn't even around to relay my question, because he's busy relaying someone else's question. Idk how me sitting on my hands waiting to just ask someone where a label goes does not also look bad on my supervisor but what do I know. When this happens several times a week, or even several times a day, it can get really fucking old, and honestly it makes me feel bad for the helper because he also has his own work he needs to get done and he's stuck running around having to ask dumb questions that should be easily answered by the order sheet. So I'm really just incentivized to try and figure this shit out on my own by process of elimination, while running the risk of getting it wrong.

So yesterday! I had shirts to make. Tags on the side, right? Er, well, there's 2 tags. Well, then, tags on the back neck, right? But wait a fucking second. The technical drawing shows a printed tag (where the tag info is printed onto the fabric directly, for comfort). Maybe the person bundling added 2 tags by mistake? Maybe it's still a side tag, but with 2 labels, for some reason? I have no clue. And helper has gone somewhere. Fuck.

So I sew both tags into the side. I mean why the fuck would they make sure to show a printed tag in the technical drawing if they wanted back neck tags. It takes effort to add the printed tag to the drawing. And if the two tags in the side is wrong, I can blame it on the person who bundled the job for putting in the extra tag.

EXCEPT NOPE WRONG it was back neck tags all along! Apparently I should have seen the two tags and ignored any and all other information and just known to put them in the back neck. I fucking. Hate this shit. Of course when I explained my reasoning, the helper also thought it was weird that the technical drawing showed a printed tag and not a physical tag so he had to run around and be told by the supervisor that yeah, it was supposed to have two tags at the back neck.

Where is this information??? Why does she know where it goes and why is that so different from the context clues?? Also the person bundling must have got that information from somewhere too, how do they know???? WHY ISN'T IT WRITTEN ON THE ORDER SHEET??? GAAAAHHH!!!!!

[shewhowantsmouseears]

joining in on the mice writing fun

I've had two pals of mine write some extra disney fun, so I got enough juice to whip something out. Just a bit of exploration of a world i call the Knights Of Dreams. If you'd like to learn more about that, I've got a tag set up for that, but feel free to ask more! Hope you enjoy!

Would it really be exaggerating to say the sun was shining brighter today? Donald took a moment to muse about this, adjusting the collar of his robes and hoping he hadn’t already outgrown this one. The magics of the kingdom affected the weather when enough emotions were in unison, but that tended to result in thunderstorms and rain, not bright sunny days. Then again, it wasn’t as if that was impossible – he’d been learning more and more that “impossible” was a word that didn’t exist. If the sun was brighter due to the all the harmony the kingdom was experiencing, wasn’t that a good thing? He wanted to believe things would be all right today, and that even the enemies that sprawled in the darkness would take a break.

However, he was a pessimist at heart, and grumbled quietly as he readjusted his outfit six times over. Things would probably go wrong today, if only to him and his bad luck. He could only hope it wouldn’t spread to Daisy – and speaking of which, he’d done more than enough checking in the mirror. She’d be stopping by soon, and he was going to escort her to the festival grounds. She’d been bragging for ages about the outfit she was going to wear, and even Donald’s darkest thoughts couldn’t put a damper on that – his girlfriend was beautiful no matter what, but her keen sense of color and cloth always had a way to make that beauty stand out even more. She was going to be a knock-out, his bad luck be damned.

He descended the rickety wooden stairs, but even their usual squeaks couldn’t hide the whispers below. He paused mid-step, eyes narrowing as he saw the conspirators on the first floor. Della and Mickey were already dressed to the nines, though Della was roughly tugging on a sleeve or two much to Mickey’s annoyance. From what Donald could gather, Mickey was repeatedly asking Della if she was “sure about this idea” and Della, ever confident, was replying over and over that “no one will notice, it’ll just be for a little while, grab her and go.”

Donald inherited many things from his mother, and unfortunately, one of them tended to be mother-henning. He cleared his throat as he resumed walking downward, and the two below jerked, realizing they’d been caught. On the last step, Donald turned toward them, parenting face on, arms crossed. “What are you two planning?”

He didn’t expect them to be honest. Of course not.

“Plannin’?” Mickey went first, eyes darting here and there. “Dunno what’cha mean, Donald. We were just gettin’ ready for the festival, right, Della?”

Della waved a dismissive hand, always bolder when it came to fibs. “Honestly, Donald, what could we possibly be planning? Aside from having a good time?”

Donald clicked his tongue. He never claimed to be a genius, but whenever Mickey and the word “her” was involved, there was one conclusion to make. “So, he’s not planning on doing anything with Princess Minerva today?” Now neither one would look him in the eyes. “Especially not today of all days, when she’s finally out of the castle, so everyone’s eyes will be on her, so trying to do anything with her would be the stupidest thing you could think of?” There was a light rapping on the door, which he ignored. “And if you were actually dumb enough to think you could get away with it, which you wouldn’t, the other knights, plus Scrooge, plus the King himself would make your life miserable forever and always?”

“Your faith is astounding as always, brother mine.” Della replied, her voice not wavering an inch. “Someone’s at the door.” The knocking hadn’t stopped.

“Really, Donald, just relax!” Mickey meekly held his hands up in protest. “Today’s all about the good things the year has brought us, remember? You don’t wanna start off the festival with a sour face.”

“I swear,” Donald said as the knocking increased in volume and speed, “If you two do anything to the princess, heads will roll! And then they’ll blame me for it too! All I ask for is one day without either one of you giving me a headache, is that too much to ask?! One single day?!” He then whipped around, yanking on the door handle so hard it was a miracle the dang thing didn’t crack off. “AW, WHADDYA WANT?!”

Knock-out had been a good word to use earlier, as one look at Daisy in her new dress – especially as it hugged all her curves in ways Donald was eager to do the same, the fluff of her chest sticking out perhaps a smidgen more than usual, and her eyes taking on a certain glow with freshly painted make-up on her always pretty face – snuffed out the candle of Donald’s rage. It also did a good job at snuffing out all coherent thought he had. Daisy waited patiently, raising an eyebrow. “Well? Are you ready to go?”

Donald’s throat made a noise that couldn’t been a “gnugk” but no one was quite sure.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Daisy took his arm, and made a silent salute to her fellow conspirators. They flashed her a grin – Donald glanced back, feeling as if he’d missed something, but a kiss on his cheek shut his brain up again. The happy couple walked off, and Mickey exhaled deeply in relief.

“We’d better get a move-on too,” Mickey said as he wiped a bit of sweat from his brow. “I hope you know what you’re doing with this idea of yours, Della.”

“Have I ever let you down before, Mick?” She probably should have seen his expression of exasperation coming. “… Okay, when it mattered?” His look didn’t change. “Naysayers, I’m surrounded by naysayers and… jerks!” With a huff, she grabbed Mickey by the wrist and dragged him along, and was welcomed by his quiet chuckling.

The Flower Festival was in full bloom, with the pun quite intended. One couldn’t walk a foot without encountering blossoms of all shapes and colors curling around the buildings and pathways. Their sweet smells permeated the air, and there was a gentle breeze that sent lofty petals into many a fair maiden’s hair. Mickey and Della had barely turned the corner before they heard the bands playing, and the sound of delighted children shrieking delightfully in their own games. On a day like this, it was easy to forget all the attacks and invaders mere weeks ago – which, Mickey thought, was probably for the best. Typically, the festival lasted four days, and this was merely the beginning. He wasn’t sure they could make it all four days without a visit from the League of Nightmares.

Destroying this kind of happiness would be right up their alley – hadn’t they announced to anyone and everyone their very existence was to wipe out the dreams of this peaceful kingdom? Mickey rubbed his chest, starting to worry. The Nightmares were always so eager to destroy any light they found, to rip apart families, lovers, friends, and show how weak those bonds could be. On a day meant to bring joy, wasn’t this like offering the Nightmares a full meal on a silver platter? Mickey was sure they couldn’t possibly cancel the festival, and yet…

He felt someone bump into the back of his legs, and Mickey fumbled forward, knocking into Della. She caught him and straightened him up, and the two of them watched a gaggle of kids sprint down the dirt road, waving self-made streamers and throwing freshly grown flowers at one another. The child that hit Mickey had also stumbled, gave a shy smile of apology, then raced to join their friends. Mickey couldn’t even be mad – had the child stayed a second longer, he would have ruffled their hair and shoved them along. Della watched them with a large smile on her face, no doubt thinking of her own little boys and eager to catch up with them.

The town square was almost unrecognizable. Every shop had replaced their displays and signs in accordance to fit the flowery theme, offering new wares and special tastes only for this time of the year. Crafting tables had been set up mostly for the little ones, but there were a few elderly ones about to create the paper lanterns which would be used later in the night. The May Pole was still being set up, and while Mickey was certain he was taller than last year and the year before, he still swore the pole was higher than ever. Everyone was moving, everyone was making merry, and everyone was choosing not to think of the darkness.

“Looks like the guests of honor haven’t arrived yet,” Della said as she scanned the area, a hand over her eyes to see better. “So maybe we have time to rope a few more fellas into the scheme.”

Mickey tried not to roll his eyes. “First off, if you have to call it a scheme, don’t say scheme out loud! And secondly, I dunno if anyone else would be willing to go along with it. Goofy and Launchpad are honest to a fault, Drake’s a born tattletale, and Pete would hold it over my head forever.” But after a moment more, he allowed the festive smells and songs to ease his mood. “Besides… look around! They’re all having fun already. I can’t take ‘em away from that.”

This was one of the few days the Knights of Dreams weren’t expected to stand to duty. Oh, sure, if thieves and bandits were making trouble, they’d step in and save the day. But it was expected on the Flower Festival that they’d spend time with their loved ones – even heroes needed a day off. Goofy was having unexpected trouble with a candied apple, with Clarabelle at his side yammering on about something or other he wasn’t listening to. Millie was fetching drinks for her friends, still falling into “servant mode” without meaning to, while Horace to keep Clarabelle from accidentally leaning against freshly painted decorations as she continued to babble. Clarabelle spotted a friend, and when she enthusiastically waved, she smacked Horace into the very paint he’d been trying to protect her from.

Peg had noticed the wave and returned it before resuming rolling barrels of freshly squeezed wine into place. Her family’s business tended to do triple their usual numbers on these knights, so she was making sure to be prepared ahead of time. Pete had been shanghaied into helping, and while Mickey couldn’t make out exactly what they were snapping to each other, he knew it was all loving barbs. Rumors said the two were going to announce their formal engagement this year – though those rumors had been swimming around the last two years as well, so they didn’t hold too much weight to anyone except Peg herself… who Mickey suspected of starting said rumors. Pete almost ran his barrel over Launchpad’s foot, but there was no grudge between them – Mickey doubted Launchpad could hold grudges against anyone.

Usually around this time, Launchpad would be swamped with attention from every almost eligible bachelorette (and many bachelors as well, let’s not kid ourselves) in the kingdom. But since his little sister, Loopy, was hanging onto his arm, Mickey guessed the hungry crowd was waiting for her to leave before they could hunt him down. He had to wonder if Loopy already knew this and was trying to save her big brother from being lovingly mobbed, and glanced over at Della – Scrooge had been trying for ages to marry Della off, if only for her “security”, and Launchpad had been one of the offers. The last time that topic had been brought up, Della threatened to shove Scrooge’s magic staff somewhere unpleasant, so Mickey decided not revisit the issue. In the present, Della wasn’t paying anyone any particular attention, until she suddenly made a sudden snort of annoyance.

Plenty of people in the kingdom still couldn’t believe Drake had gotten himself such a lovely girlfriend – Drake included, if he was honest – and he was inclined to show Morgana off at any given opportunity. Even now she was still getting admiring looks from anyone she passed, and every stare she acquired just made Drake’s ego grow bigger. She was holding hands with him, though didn’t appear to be interested in the cakes and drinks offered – her eyes remained on the glittery jewels and trinkets being showcased, things that were likely out of Drake’s budget.

“I still don’t trust her,” Della said under her breath. “There’s something fishy about her and her whole circus.”

Mickey knew it was unwise to poke a hornet’s nest, but he’d grown up alongside Donald and Della since they were toddlers – and it was a sibling’s duty to poke, poke, poke. “Y’know, usually it’s Gladstone who’s a little green around the gills…”

Della slowly turned her head towards Mickey. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, despite knowing full well what Mickey meant. Mickey knew his pseudo-sister enough that Scrooge’s marriage offers were never going to come to fruition, as Della preferred her partners to be… frankly, female. The only reason Della hadn’t told her uncle this was she was sure he’d just widen the map of potential marriage candidates and nag her about it even more.  While she did enjoy companionship, she wasn’t sure she was ready to settle down, especially not with three little boys to raise.

Still… Mickey had noticed where her eyes wandered, and poke, poke, poke. “I think someone might be a little bit jeal-”

He hadn’t finished the word before Della grabbed his black nose in firm first, glaring hellfire at him. “I’m going to release your schnozz in five seconds. And when I do, you’d better rethink your sentence, because if you’re implying I’m jealous of Drake Mallard of all people, I’ll march right up to Princess Minerva and tell her how long it took you to stop wetting the bed.”

The League of Nightmares had nothing on Della Duck. “Drake who?”

“Atta boy.” She let go of his nose, and he winced as he rubbed it, grateful that the color would hide any bruises. Elsewhere, Drake had broken his hold with Morgana in order to scoop up his daughter, who in turn plopped a freshly made flower crown on top of his head. As they laughed, Morgana’s usual seductive flair seemed to melt into warm comfort, though it seemed even Morgana wasn’t aware of how she looked. Drake then called out to Launchpad, bringing him over, and Launchpad encouraged Pete and Peg to take a break, and Peg wanted to bring over Goofy and his gang, and there was Donald and Daisy taking up a slow dance in the corner…

And everything was right. And everything was good. And Mickey would have given every ounce of magic he had to keep it that way forever.