#so sorry it's been a month since you sent this xd
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idiotdriftinginspace · 4 months ago
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I offer memes for one of my favourite fics (written by @lets-try-some-writing)
I made them simply because they wer funny in my head :D
orginal photos and flat colors under cut
flat colors
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and og photos
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-and rambling as usual, and weird/crack ideas that I don't regret in the slightest; you have been warned XD
I saw this slav totem somewhere on tumblr and my first thought was: "Autoway, Ironhide and Springer". At the same time I knew this would be very out of character for them in the middle of war.
My excuse why I did draw it in the end? One: How could I not to XD; and Two: Since orginal circumstances were not suitable, they didn't have a chance to be young and do stupid stuff. And then it enlightend me: WHAT IF THEY COULD?! And so I present to you a glimps of "these 3 were born after the war with quintessons" timeline. I decided to shove them into either some military high school or just military, but not on the war front, after all they are still warframes.
This "alt timeline" (if I can even call it that XD) exists solely for this one meme, just me having a thought "what if they could be teenagers and annoy their sergeant (what if it was Kup >:) ) without major consequences (e.g. cleaning washracks for a month instead of having your helm blown of). And the funniest thing, I have absolutley no idea what else to do with this concept, exept maybe the RGB trio being a menace in th military (I am not downloading tiktok so terrible yt compilations must suffice, sorry <:) )
For lamborgini twins - I really wanted do do something for -back then a brand new- chapter 43, but again Auto just didn't fit in there, be it scale or how things played out in the story, and so Prowl was shoved here against his will. This is probably how Sentinel views them and why he sent Autoway there, my only excuse XD.
And Whirl is here solely for laughs, gigles and "what if he met the twins" scenario XD. If they met somwhere just before discovering the ring I'm guessing they would get along like a house on fire XD
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teecupangel · 8 months ago
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Tee I can't remember if I've sent this idea before, but with [insert Desmond as an animal au] of your choice (or multiple of them, or all of them)--consider Desmond stuck as an animal and getting used to that being his new life. Until. He meets one of his ancestors he spent time as (havihg sought them out of course. He could never resist). And then, maybe it's by design, or maybe it's some kind of weird crossed wires from the Bleeding Effect, the echo of a flesh and blood body given a reminder in the code of the universe what shape it's supposed to be--
Whatever it is, it turns out that as long as Desmond is in skin-to-skin contact with his ancestor, he reverts to human form.
which is to say: big convoluted excuse for lots of hugs and hand-holding.
It would be funny if Desmond was some kind of big animal so when his ancestor lets go of him, enemies would be surprised by the sudden appearance of such a beast XD
Since you gave me free rein on this, I’m going for 12th century Levant XD
.
.
Malik did not believe he was close minded.
He accepted Altaïr was in love with a mysterious man who can turn into a beast even before Altaïr had admitted it.
Altaïr didn’t try hard to deny it anyway.
Saying “this is necessary” while they were holding hands or Altaïr’s hand was on his neck or they were in each other’s embrace (and many more positions that Malik didn’t have any time to list down at the moment) was such a weak excuse that Malik didn’t really think he should even be using the term excuse in the first place.
When he sent a letter saying he was going on a ‘trip’ with Desmond after they finished the mission in Cyprus, no one in the Brotherhood was surprised.
They immediately looked for Malik to lead them as if Altaïr had planned it.
No.
This felt more like Desmond’s work. That man seemed to believe Malik could handle more things than Malik was comfortable with handling.
Yet, he persevered for no one was willing to take the mantle from him.
After the first year of his tenure as the temporary mentor, Rauf was already suggesting that he, Altaïr and Desmond should just be the mentors together.
The way he said it though made it clear to Malik that Rauf believed Malik was entangled in Altaïr and Desmond’s relationship.
Or was harboring unsaid feelings for either or both of them.
Malik wanted to vomit there and then.
He would rather lose both of his arms than be part of whatever relationship those two had.
They were the cause of Malik’s headache.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
.
Their trip lasted for four long years.
Malik’s list of complaints had turned into a journal and he was planning to read everything out loud.
But his tenure as the long suffering temporary mentor has finally come to an end for those two idiots had returned.
When he reached the courtyard to greet them, Kadar grabbed his arm and stopped him.
“Brother.” Kadar’s eyes were wide and his hands were trembling.
“What is it?” Malik asked, his mind going through the many worrying fates those two idiots could have had while they had been away.
“I’m so sorry, brother.” Kadar looked like a man who had his heart broken.
… on behalf of Malik.
Oh no.
Please.
No.
“Malik!” Desmond shouted and Kadar let go of him, stepping back into the crowd like the coward that he was.
Malik turned to where he heard Desmond’s face and saw Desmond’s grinning face.
With both of his hands holding two different persons.
Altaïr was, of course, one of them.
That was a common sight by now.
The other was a woman though.
“This is Maria Thorpe.” Desmond introduced, “The mother of our first son! He’ll be born three months from now!”
Oh, it was worse.
Many Assassins behind the three currently in front of Malik were looking at him with pitying eyes.
It seemed their imagination had run wild.
And now they had cast Malik into the role of an unfortunate man who just heard the two men (or one of these idiots) he was in love with (He. Was. Not.) had married a woman while he had been waiting for them to return.
Forget reading out loud his complaints.
He was going to beat the both of them with that damn journal.
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jamneuromain · 1 year ago
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Mean Daddy
Logan Syverson x Reader (You)
Word Count: ~750
Warning: Mean!Sy, established relationship, fingering, spanking, sex toys (dildo), implied multiple orgasms/overstimulation
Summary: Your mean daddy comes home :]
A/N: This fic is purely under @gummydummy19’s influence. Blame her for encouraging my behavior XD
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Sy had been gone for ten months for a deployment overseas. He couldn’t tell you where he was being sent to, but he promised he’d call when he’s not on the field, which gave you plenty of wiggle room to tease him over the phone.
Most of the time, you would listen to how he spent his day in the base camp, wrapping yourself in his hoodie so you felt close, as if he was hugging you from the back and murmuring by your ear. Occasionally, when you were feeling particularly naughty, he called you and you put the vibrator between your legs, moaning his name with your phone on speaker.
… and you might have accidentally compared him with the vibe, and claimed that the vibe is better.
Empty threats were thrown all over the place. You giggled and cleaned yourself up with wobbly legs when he growled on the other side of the phone, cursing your menstrual cycle and the fact that he was thousands of miles away, and the dark voice in which he warned you. That you would be spanked so hard that you would not be able to sit for a week after he returned from this tour.
You, of course, did not give a damn and fucked him over the phone every month before your period hit.
And, in return, shortly after his arrival, you were pulled over his knee for him to deliver his promise.
“The pathetic toy is better, huh?” He lands another ruthless spank on your sore ass, holding both of your hands behind your back, spreading your legs wide so that his hand could travel down to your soaked panties and mock you for it, “Which one is better now, sugar? Which one is making your pussy cry like a baby?”
You whine, spreading your legs a little wider to grind your neglected clit on his thigh. But Sy notices the angling of your hips. Tearing the panties from your bottom, he prods two of his thick fingers into your weeping hole, slowly circling your G-spot as you whine again in misery.
“Feels so good, you can barely speak?” Sy pulls his fingers from your tight walls, sucking on them lewdly loud, his chest rumbling in satisfaction, “Hmm, sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”
Your juices soak his boxers. It has been months since he laid his finger on you (not to mention his cock). The vibe could only serve as a minimum replacement. You know it. He knows it.
And yet, he still punishes you for making a comparison.
“Sy, baby, I’m sorry, ‘kay? You’re the best.” You sniffle as the sensitivity brings you close to tears. You want, no, need to be fucked right this moment or you will explode, “Sy, please. Please put your thick cock into my pussy or I’d die-”
Your pathetic whines are cut off when he opens your bedside drawer, taking out a just as thick silicone dildo.
Sy lets out a cold hard laugh, “Cute. But I’m not done with you, sugar.” Wetting the silicone tip with your entrance, his only warning is “Relax, darlin’ ”, before pushing the monstrosity deeply seated in your pulsing walls, making you cry out in frustration.
“Fuck!” You moan as he grabs the base of the fake cock and attempts at moving it around.
Making sure the fake cock stays snuggled in your hole, Sy smacks your ass again. After a few rubs that eased the burn on your skin, Sy reaches your bundle of nerves, giving it an experimental squeeze, earning a yelp from your throat.
Jesus Lordy Christ, this man knows your body better than you do.
“Wanna play a game, sugar?” He smiles proudly, flipping your body around, not breaking a sweat at all, and places you on the bed on your back with your knees around his waist.
“No.” You huff, rolling your eyes as loud as possible.
Unless he is pulling out his cock right now, there’s nothing that could attract your attention or your enthusiasm.
Needless to say, the pain on your ass is subduing, allowing you to quickly forget what would happen if you are mouthing off to him.
Sy narrows his eyes. A dark glint rushes past his eyelids.
“Too bad. The game is called ‘How many times can you cum’, and darlin’, you ain’t getting out of this bed until you pass out.”
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Hello
I am a recent fan of Supernatural. I finished the series in just two months and wanted to try to make friends with the fandom of the series in my country because I am Brazilian. I joined a group and was excited to talk to people who were as passionate about the show as I was.
I met a really cool girl who told me that she believes that Jensen is Misha and has a romantic relationship. At first, I didn't want to believe it because it seemed like a fan theory that ships Destiel and wants to go further and ship the actors too.
Anyway, this girl told me things that rented a triplex in my head. I thought about it so much that I started looking for information until I found your post on Tumblr explaining Jenmish in chronological order.
I spent hours reading about it and noticing every detail. What I have to say is that you analyzed everything in such an excellent way. This post is of public service in my opinion. Knowing all of this warmed my heart because I was kind of so sad about what happened to Castiel and Dean at the end of the series. The possibility of Jenmish being real made me happier than words can describe. It may be a silly thing but I will believe in it as long as Jensen and Misha keep giving as many possible signs.
I sent your article to my friends in the group and even those who didn't believe in it now believe it. LOL.
Anyway, it was a long speech but I would like to ask something.
What do you think about Misha's relationship with his new girlfriend Emily?
Do you think Misha has been a little more restrained towards Jensen because of this new relationship?
I'm asking because I'm new to this fandom and I don't know much about it, so I wanted to know your opinion because I love your analyses.
(Sorry for any mistakes, I don't speak English, I'm using the translator to write this. :))
oh my gosh, thank you! it always blows my mind when i find out that my obsessive little project has spread so far. i'm glad i could be of service! xD and don't worry, the english is great.
i actually don't know a lot about emily, as it was only relatively recently that misha made his relationship with her public. i think it's great that they're happy together, but my policy with real people is that i only engage with what they have deliberately chosen to share. the hijinks that misha and jensen get up to knowing they're on camera is entirely fair game to speculate on, in my opinion, but if they haven't chosen to share anything publicly, i think it should stay private and i generally won't speculate on it.
while i suppose it's possible, it doesn't really seem to me like misha has actually toned much down, to be honest. he's said that emily and jensen are really good friends, and i doubt he'd be in a serious relationship with anyone who wasn't supportive of the fact that he's polyamorous.
but since emily doesn't really have a public persona like misha and jensen do, i don't want to be too nosy or speculate about her too much. she and misha seem happy together, and that's really all i want or need to know.
i'll say though, that for someone who is new to cockles and has had a look at the sheer size of my cockles masterlist, i can see how it might seem like things have been more quiet or uneventful recently. the sheer amount of cockles content makes it seems like insane events must be happening all the time, and if they're not, something might be wrong!
however, it's extremely normal for there to be long periods of nothing between majors cockles incidents. all the entries on that long list have been spread out over fifteen years! actually, in the last few years we've had quite a bit MORE cockles than we used to get, as we've gotten several jensen/misha panels during the regular convention season in america, due to jared missing several cons and misha taking it his place. it used to be that we got ONE cockles panel a year! we would look forward to jibcon in italy all year, because it was practically the only time we'd get to see them on stage together.
sadly, we do get less cockles outside of conventions nowadays, since the guys are busy with different projects and live far away from each other. but we got several shared panels this year, and they were clearly thrilled to be together every time. :)
anyway, i hope that answers your question! i completely agree with you about the comfort and happiness that cockles brings in light of the tragedy of destiel, it really does help the heartache to know that for once it was real life that got the happy ending. take care! <3
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sunflowersandsapphires · 9 months ago
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Including Sunlight
When Skies Are Gray, Chapter 4
Series Masterlist             Next Chapter
pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 
summary: Frank’s life has reached a crossroads: he can either continue to seclude himself and pursue a dark, lonely future, or he can open himself up to connecting with someone again and maybe achieve happiness. Being the grump that he is, Frank has already committed to the lonely path, but his curious new neighbor might just turn that around. 
warnings: swearing, fluff, Frank having unhealthy coping mechanisms
a/n: I'm so sorry that this update is late, everyone! I've had a wacky month and it has completely thrown me off. Huge shout out to @xxdrixx for reminding me (again XD) to post what I'd written, and to my loves @madschiavelique and @gracethyomen for helping me plot the upcoming angst arc!!!
w/c: 5.9k
You hadn’t known Frank for very long, but that didn’t stop him from becoming a necessary fixture in your life. Needing Frank was similar to needing light, or fresh air. Sure, you could go without it for a bit, but it would drastically reduce the quality of your life. 
Two days into his “business trip” (which you assumed was a cover for some illegal shenanigans because what sort of freelance construction worker has business trips), you were missing Frank something awful, and it seemed like Max was too. Though you’d tried your best to stick to the existing routine Frank had explained to you, the dog would get mopey in the evenings, laying his head on your lap with a dramatic sigh as he stared longingly towards the door. 
Frank hadn’t so much as sent an emoji since his departure, a fact that highlighted his already glaring absence. You had no idea if he was even alive, but you refused to go down that path knowing you’d never make it out of that endless anxiety spiral. Hoping not to bother him while he was away, you’d refrained from reaching out. Until Max’s heavy sighs were too much for you to bear. 
“I’ll see what I can do, buddy.” You promised, pulling out your phone and taking a picture of his pouting face. 
Sending Max’s sulking portrait off to your stoic neighbor, you included a message. 
You: I think he misses you. Hope you made it safely. ❤️
You were about to set your phone down, not expecting him to respond, but your phone buzzed immediately. 
Frank: Sorry, bud. He behaving for you?
You: He’s being a perfect gentleman. Please come back to us in one piece. 
Frank: Cross my heart. 
Smiling at the fluttery sensation in your chest, you set your phone down and resumed petting the pitbull taking up residence on your lap. 
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Come back to us. A poor imitation of your melodic voice played throughout his brain on a loop as he got settled in the motel and began recon. It had been hours since you’d texted him and Frank couldn’t stop thinking about it. Not that he could ever stop thinking of you; the only thing that had kept him going through the bland, cross-state drive was the knowledge that he had you to return to.
And didn’t that terrify him. The knowledge that he had forged a connection valuable enough to anchor him on bad days should have triggered his factory reset. Cut all ties, change home and job, never look back. But you made him weak–sapping the resolve out of him with your doe eyes and intoxicating personality. He’d never be able to leave you like that, even if his proximity to you would get you killed.
Gritting his teeth, he began disassembling his rifle for the umpteenth time, hoping the familiar rhythm would provide an opportunity for his mind to claw its way out of the paranoid spiral it was currently parachuting down. Because it would do him no good to imagine the ways this could all fall apart. The high that your genuine care ignited in him was a hard one to shake, and he craved your affection more than any drug. 
Frank was no stranger to being forgotten, hell, most days he wished for it. Disappearing into the shadows made his work easier and it had helped him prevent situations like this, like you, in the past. Yet here he was, three states away, feeling desired and significant because of four little sentences of fucking text. You were a goddamn miracle. 
Placing the final piece of his weapon back into its place, he drew his hands towards himself, examining them. Given the nature of his work, both legal and less than, the skin was rough and littered with impressive callouses. Streaks of gun oil, dirt, and general grime lingered on the pads of his fingers and under his nails, a testament to the indelicacy of his job. How could he allow himself to touch you with these hands?
How could the universe allow him to indulge in something so pure, after what he’d done? 
He’d given you his name, his real one, but there was no way you knew the extent of his crimes against the people in your city–if you did, you’d surely never speak to him again. Before meeting you, he’d never questioned his choices. Wiping the murderous, sex-trafficking and drug-dealing scum from the face of the Earth was his purpose, and he lived it with pride. Pulling the trigger, releasing bullet after bullet into the chest of some criminal douchebag, it was the only reason he had the energy to keep going after the loss of his family. 
But the violence, that he’d made peace with, it separated him from the rest of society, kept him from forming attachments with people as delicate as you. Not to mention, you valued an honesty he couldn’t provide, and a stable relationship would require it…not that he was intending on pursuing that with you. Right?
Sighing wearily, he pinched the bridge of his nose, heart pummeling his ribcage. You deserved to know the truth about who he was and what he’d done, but Frank wasn’t sure he possessed the courage to break that news to you, to risk losing you forever. 
Shifting uneasily on the fraying wicker chair, Frank studied a chip in the faux wood of the table he was seated at. Rubbing a thumb over the exposed plastic, he pondered his next move. His short recon session had verified Madani’s hunch that the arms dealers operated after dark, like most criminals, but sitting around the dingy motel room until then was a one-way ticket to insanity. 
As if his body was pitying his moment of unprecedented indecision, his stomach growled ferociously. Fuck, he could use a decent meal and a hot cup of coffee. Plucking his keys and handgun from the nightstand, he shoved his arms into a black canvas jacket before braving the outside world. 
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Digging your glove-covered fingers into the laminated dough, you folded it over itself a few times before placing it back in its designated proofing bin to rise. Taking another lump of the yeasted mixture into your grasp, you savored the pleasant cushiony feeling beneath your hands as you worked, the slightly fermented smell of raw bread swirling around the kitchen as you flipped the mass. 
Your heart thumped serenely as you kneaded the dough at a steady pace, creating a beautiful rhythm you were more than familiar with. It was music, of a sort; the pulse in your ears acting as the bass while the cacophony of rattling spice jars and cracking eggshells composed unique melodies unlike anything else. 
Life was complicated, but food was simple. Customizing pastries and generating new recipes was an outlet for any emotion you could dream of. Tugging at the strands of dough helped soothe the tension in your shoulders, a symptom of the intense restlessness you’d been feeling since Frank left. Though his text had confirmed that he was alive, you couldn’t help but wallow in a feeling of gut-wrenching regret as you lived without him. If something happened to him out there, you’d never be able to tell him–
Shaking your head fiercely to clear the anxious thoughts from your mind, you raced to the walk-in, once again pouring your jittery energy into a recipe rather than letting your composure erode into nothing. Stabilizing the precarious tower of ingredients you’d stacked with your chin, you tread cautiously over to a clean station, unceremoniously dumping the contents onto the steel bench before popping your head out to the front. 
“Stace, you want somethin’ to eat?” You called to the girl, who was currently standing by the register on her phone. 
“What are you making?” She barely lifted her head with the question and her ambivalence made you snort. 
“Oh, you know, same old.”
With a small shrug, Stacy nodded. “Sure, why not.” 
Grinning, you ducked back into the kitchen and popped the lid off of the industrial blender, quickly whipping up two vibrantly colored and impeccably garnished bowls for the pair of you. Passing a spoon to Stacy, you smiled as she dug in eagerly.
“What, you didn’t eat breakfast this morning?” You giggled, reveling in the way her eyes lit up as she ate. 
“Had a feeling you’d be cooking up a storm today.” Stacy replied, tilting her head at you knowingly. “You tend to do that when you’re mopey, and I’m never opposed to a free meal.”
Rolling your eyes, you huffed in defiance. “I’m not ‘mopey’.” 
“No?” Your dark-haired friend smirked. “That’s why you’re staring at that stupid bowl like it killed your family?” 
Ignoring her pointed look, you angled the bowl slightly differently before pulling out your phone. 
“It’s a pretty meal. I wanted to take a picture.” You reasoned, snapping a few photos of the deep violet mixture. 
“To send to lover boy?” Stacy snorted, wiggling her eyebrows at you. 
“No! I mean, maybe, I guess. I mean—“ You spluttered and Stacy laughed boisterously. “Shut up!!” Pouting, you shoved your phone back into the pocket of your apron and stuck a spoon into your breakfast. 
“C’mon, princess, don’t let my teasing interrupt your pitiful flirting attempts. I’m sure he wants to hear from you.” Stacy’s expression was nonchalant, as always, but her gaze softened when your shoulders slumped. “I’m serious. He’s like, embarrassingly into you.” 
“I think you might be confused about which of us is ‘embarrassingly into’ the other.” You whined, burying your face in your hands. 
“Oh you’re pathetically head over heels for him too, that’s why you have no game.” 
Scoffing, you shoved at her shoulder. “You know what, I don’t need to be insulted like this. Get out of my kitchen.”
“It’s not insulting, it’s true!” She chuckled, eating the remaining few bites of her food as you struggled to force her out the double doors. 
“Out, out, out!” You panted, finally getting her across the threshold. 
The whoosh of air from the batwing doors blew stray hairs from your face, giving you pause. Did it matter why you reached out to him? He seemed to appreciate it…
“Fuck it.” 
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Frank turned the cheap off-white mug in his hands, letting the quickly fading warmth seep through the material and into his palms as he looked out the streaky window. A gray hue had settled over the rural town he was camped out in, courtesy of the building storm on the horizon. The clouds mimicked his mental state, growing darker by the minute as the world remained stagnant. 
A low buzz caught his attention, his hand shooting out to stop his phone from vibrating off of the table. Flicking the screen open, his heart swelled with affection, like a ray of sunshine peeking through the barrier in the sky. 
You: *image* It’s official, I’m becoming a hipster. I was more concerned about this photo than eating my breakfast.
Not attempting to hide his smile, Frank shoved his empty cup aside to free his thumbs. 
Frank: Well, it looks so good, I might have to forgive you. What is it?
You: A smoothie bowl, very easy to make and quite tasty.
Frank: Never had one of those before. Looks good though, sunshine.
You: Thanks, sweetheart. I’ll make you one sometime.
Frank inhaled deeply, imagining that you were nearby and he could smell your soft vanilla soap. The thought of you cooking for him upon his return warmed his heart while simultaneously cracking it in two. He missed you dearly. Drawing his forearms into his chest, he took a picture of his own food, frowning at the grainy quality of the picture as it sent.
Frank: It ain’t as pretty as yours, but I’m eating breakfast myself.
The remnants of a stack of bland pancakes and some tough bacon paled in comparison to the gorgeous, speckled smoothie thing you’d sent him. Why it was in a bowl and not a cup, he wasn’t sure, but clearly you knew what you were doing so who was he to judge? A few seconds passed and Frank briefly wondered if he’d said something wrong. Before he could preemptively apologize, another bubble appeared on the screen.
You: Glad you are able to feed yourself without my help. I was starting to wonder…
Frank: Oh shut up, you goof. I do miss your cooking though.
You: Just my cooking?
His fingers hovered over the glass display, his brain scrambling for a response that didn’t reveal just how gone he was for you. In the end, he couldn’t find one.
Frank: Not just your cooking, honey. I have some work to do, but take care of yourself and Max for me, will you? 
You: Of course, Frankie. Have a good day :)
Frank: You too, sunshine.
Clicking the power button on his phone, Frank flipped it over, settling his head against his rough hands and massaging his forehead. Coward.
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The shrill ringing of his alarm shattered the remnants of his uneasy slumber. Whipping his arm out from under the sheets, he stopped the piercing noise with a frustrated growl. Sitting up was a process, thanks to the new bullet wounds in his shoulder and hip—a true testament to how sideways yesterday night had gone. Madani’s brief had implied that this would be a cut and dry operation. Get in, confirm the sale, contact her team, leave. He’d been given strict orders to not shoot unless absolutely necessary. 
Which was a great plan, in theory. Frank was more than on board with it, even if the whole “no shooting” thing lengthened the process. If it kept him on Madani’s good side, and still managed to get him home before Lisa’s birthday, he could live with it. 
Apparently, the rookie member of Madani’s team was not so thrilled with Frank “stealing” so much of the glory. After Frank’s recon session and subsequent confirmation of the sale, the former Marine was about to call for backup when a scrawny 20-something kid darted into the dark warehouse after the arms dealers, holding nothing but a goddamn glock. Anticipating bloodshed, Frank was grumbling and sprinting after him before the gunshots started. 
Pulling the kid out by the straps of his ill-fitting bullet-proof vest was a task Frank managed by the skin of his teeth, procuring two moderate injuries in the process. Of course, the knowledge that the FBI was on their tail sent the arms dealers into a frenzy. Frank was sure they’d crossed state lines before Madani was even done screaming. Honestly, he half expected the poor woman to have steam coming out of her ears–she’d cussed at the kid with words even Frank considered impolite. 
Not that he could blame her, he was fuming all the same, especially when Madani had explained that he wasn’t off the hook for the mission and should head back to the motel to await further instructions. As if he was reliving it, the conversation that followed played in his head on a loop, their screaming match echoing off the walls of his brain. 
“For fuck’s SAKE, Madani, I did what you wanted–why should I be punished for the stupidity of this asshole?”
“Oh, he’ll be dealt with, believe me. But the agreement was to get Roshev and Miller into my custody. Not give my team a half-assed warning and head back to New York scot free.”
“Half-assed–you’re fucking joking. I had to ditch the objective to rescue YOUR DAMN AGENT.”
“Go back to your room, Frank. I won’t ask again.”
“You’re not–”
“That’s an ORDER, Castle.”
So here he was: waking up on a shitty mattress, his skin and hair still streaked with dirt and blood (because the crappy water pressure and freezing temperature had infuriated him to the point that he’d cut his shower short after cleaning his wounds), in pain and in desperate need of a better cup of coffee than anyone around here was capable of brewing. 
On top of that, it was his dead daughter’s 18th birthday–a fact that hung over him like a cloud of poisonous gas, slowly squeezing the air from his lungs, and he was powerless to stop it. He wanted to scream, to cry, to grieve for her, to do something, anything–but instead he was fucking stuck here, beneath Madani’s thumb until she tired of him. 
It was naive to think that he’d be home today, maybe drinking coffee that you had made specifically for him, bringing flowers to the cemetery, taking Max for a walk, trying to have a quiet day in Lisa’s memory instead of waiting around to deal with two scumbags who got paid to arm other criminals. He should have just shot them.
Rubbing the sleep from his eyes with a rough hand, he stalked to the bathroom to clean up–given that a man covered in blood would probably scare the poor waitress at the diner down the street shitless. As he was rubbing a towel through his hair, his phone buzzed–presumably with a curt message from Madani about something else he’d done wrong. Groaning internally, he braced himself for another argument, but it never came. 
Instead, his phone had an unopened message from you. Flicking open the home screen, he felt a weight fall off his shoulders as he pulled up the photo you’d attached. 
It was a beautiful picture of you holding a basket of vibrantly colored cherries in the midst of some sort of farmer’s market. Your delicate features were highlighted by an array of pinks and oranges, courtesy of the sunrise in the background. Your smile was bright, your eyes sparkling as you beamed at the camera. 
Your first message was a simple explanation of your morning activities. 
You: It’s market day! I bought these gorgeous cherries to make some tarts. I’ll save you one ;)
As he was rereading the message, allowing his general irritation to fade as thoughts of you flooded his brain, his phone vibrated again. 
You: Thinking of you today. I’m just a text away if you need anything ❤️
Sinking down onto the motel bed, his throat constricted as he processed the sentiment. He was surprised that you remembered today was hard for him, even more so that you offered to be a line of support. But that was exactly who you were, wasn’t it? Someone who cared so deeply for the people around her, and for some fucking reason that included Frank. 
Typing and retyping a response to you, Frank blew out a breath. He felt almost…jittery. 
Frank: Thanks, sunshine. That means a lot. I’m looking forward to that cherry tart when I get back. 
You: I’ll make you as many as you want, Frankie. 
Lips twitching, he imagined you whirling around your kitchen in one of your signature patterned dresses making him a special batch of pastries. His heart squeezed painfully; your absence was taking a toll on him that he had not expected. Before he could consider his next message to you, Madani’s number flashed on the screen, indicating an incoming call. Lips curling into a silent snarl, he answered. 
“What, Madani?” He rumbled out.
“Well, good morning to you too, sunshine.” Her response wasn’t meant to dig under his skin, she simply meant it as a superficial jab, but the inclusion of the pet name he associated with you ignited a white hot anger in his gut, feral and hungry. 
“The fuck do you want,” He bit out. 
“Watch your tone, Castle. Remember who owes whom a favor here.”
Rolling his eyes, he brought out a more polite tone. “Yes, ma’am.”  
She huffed across the line, “Fuck you too. We found them. I’ll send the coordinates now.” 
“Lookin’ forward to it.” He ended the call.
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Stretching your legs as best you could beneath the hefty pitbull, you sighed. 
It had been hours since Frank’s last text and you were not handling it well–the image of the little typing bubble on his side of the text chain haunting your every moment. Logically, the presence of those three flashing dots just meant he had started to type something and then forgot or had something else to attend to, but that knowledge didn’t quell the anxiety growing in your chest. 
He was out there, doing god knows what, on his daughter’s 18th birthday, presumably alone and hurting–and there was nothing you could do but wait. And cook him a lasagna of course. Which you had, giving your apartment the pleasant aroma of onions, tomatoes, and ricotta cheese as the dish baked. 
Your consciousness vibrated with the tenacity of an anxious chihuahua, listless with boredom and concern about your sweetheart of a neighbor. Squirming out from under Max’s head, you chuckled as the sleepy pitbull huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, bubba. I need to move around.”
In the final 30 minutes that you lasagna baked, you managed to throw together some simple pastry dough and pull out the small basket of cherries from your fridge. Popping one of the scarlet fruits into your mouth, you began to pluck the remaining stems off before removing their pits. Once they’d been sufficiently prepped, and your hands were adequately smattered with droplets of maroon fruit juice, you dumped them unceremoniously into a pot to create a compote. It didn’t necessarily pair well with lasagna, but you’d promised Frank a cherry pastry. 
Originally, you’d considered making him a cherry basil frangipane, identical to the ones you’d stacked in the bakery’s display case that morning. But, after the day he’d probably had, you figured he’d want something…less intricate. The compliment you’d given him during his first visit to the cafe still held true–Frank was simple and honest. He wasn’t difficult to please, but fancy words and expensive ingredients alone wouldn’t cut it. The food had to be good. So, you pulled out all the stops, making a recipe that you hadn’t made since you lived with Leo: cherry turnovers. 
Unlike your wonderful neighbor, the majority of patrons in the city needed a reason besides quality to continue giving you business. Elaborately decorated pastries and unique flavor profiles were what kept the cafe in business, so you hadn’t tried selling a modest dessert like these since your first few weeks at the Rainy Day Bakery. It was familiar, comforting even. You hoped it would bring Frank similar satisfaction. 
Trading the bubbling lasagna for a tray of triangle-shaped pastries, you brushed your hands on your hips. Re-covering the pasta dish, you hurriedly cleaned your kitchen, wiping away the traces of flour and sugar that inevitably dusted your countertops after you baked. As you rinsed out the mixing bowl, a high-pitched whimper popped the bubble of silence surrounding your apartment. Sitting rigidly by the door to your apartment, Max’s dark eyes pleaded with you. 
“Gosh, you’re right, bud! It is dinner time. I’m sorry, I got carried away. Let’s go get you set up, huh?” 
Snatching Frank’s spare key from your counter, you attached Max’s thick leash to his collar and jogged him back to his apartment, adding an extra handful of kibble as an apology for making him wait. Stroking his short fur a few times, you slipped the key into your pocket, scurrying back over to your apartment to grab the turnovers before they caught fire and reduced the building to ashes. 
Carefully balancing the pastries and lasagna in your hands, you marched back over to Frank’s apartment. Pretty soon, and with only one close call, the food was lined up on Frank’s countertop to cool. Brushing your hands together, you admired your handiwork. 
“Please tell me ya haven’t been sittin’ here with the door open all night.” 
The gruff voice behind you made you jump in shock. Whirling around, your fear morphed into pure joy as you took in the ruggedly handsome man before you.
“Shit, Frankie! You snuck up on me.” You practically squealed, rushing to hug him in greeting. He grunted as you slammed against him, hissing as you squeezed your arms around his hips. Eyes widening in realization, you started to pull back. “Oh fuck, you’re hurt, aren’t you? I’m so sorry, I–” 
Before you could unwrap your arms from his body, his broad hands splayed across your back, muscular arms tugging you back against his firm chest. 
“‘M fine, honey.” Came Frank’s soothing rumble. You felt him press a kiss to your crown before he buried his face in your hair. “Missed you like crazy, sunshine.” His voice was soft, as if he didn’t want you to hear the darling confession. 
“God, I missed you too, Frankie.” You chuckled, your eyes prickling with tears, your body in awe of your own honesty. With his stubbled chin atop your head and his thick arms around your waist, you felt entirely sheltered by his body. He’d created a bubble of safety and serenity for you, as he always did. 
Remaining in his arms, you shifted out from under his head to examine him. Though you’d felt it across your scalp, his beard was noticeably overgrown and in need of a trim. His hair greasy and mussed, streaked with grime, just like his face. The skin of his face was tinged red, with blush or sunburn you weren’t quite sure, and the bags under his eyes were deep. In spite of yourself, your bottom lip stuck out, brow pinching in concern. Bringing a hand up to cradle his face, you stroked a thumb gently over his cheek, careful to avoid the sizeable bruise across it. 
“Oh sweetheart. What did they do to you?” You asked quietly, feeling choked up as the hulking man nuzzled into your touch, his eyes falling shut with a weary sigh. 
“It’s nothin’.” He murmured, his words worn out—as if he’d spoken them so many times they’d lost all meaning. 
“Then it shouldn’t take long to get you cleaned up.” You smiled, the gesture not making it to your eyes. Standing on your tiptoes, you pressed a kiss to his prickly cheek before unwinding his arms from your waist. He started to retract his arms, to tuck them against his sides, but you caught his fingers with yours, grasping his hands tenderly. “Come sit, sweetheart. You must be exhausted.” 
The poor man didn’t argue. Instead, he let you tug him to the couch and sit him down, his lips twitching with fond amusement when you tucked a blanket around his shoulders. “This ain’t mine.” 
You shrugged, the hint of a smirk tugging at your lips. “I redecorated.” 
“I was barely gone three days.” Frank snorted, rolling his eyes at you. 
Poorly stifling a smile as you pretended to be annoyed, you spoke as though it was obvious why you’d done it. “Your apartment is freezing, Frank. Did you want me and Max to get hypothermia while you were gone?” 
He huffed a laugh. “Still bossy.” Letting his head tip back to meet the spine of the couch, his eyes fluttered shut. Your cool touch manifested on his cheek once again. 
“Do you have a first aid kit, Frankie?” 
“Under the bathroom sink.” He answered, his words slurred ever so slightly with fatigue. He received a slight squeeze of his arm in response, your warm fingers leaving a lasting imprint on his skin. 
A year ago, he would never have let himself have this—a moment of peace. Time to let his guard down, to trust someone else to ease his pain. But the combination of his aching body, his heavy eyelids, and your fussing nature had him letting go of a tension he’d held for years, and he couldn’t bring himself to care. 
Soft footsteps alerted him to your presence. Though his eyes were closed, he could hear you shuffle into a crouch, your chest positioned at his knees. 
Stifling a groan, he straightened his posture, wincing slightly as the motion tugged on his day old stitches. His eyes immediately focused on your adorable form in front of him, your own gaze roaming over the various bruises covering his visible skin. Dipping a washcloth into a small bowl of water, you gently lifted his wrist, washing away the dried blood on his knuckles. As you worked, a small river of dirty water–tinged pink from his scarlet blood–dripped down his fingers and onto your dress. 
He watched the trio of droplets fall, time slowing as if to highlight the moment that reignited his anxiety. Splashing across the multicolored fabric, the liquid seeped into your skirt, staining it as you held his hand. Your kindness was endless, and his presence was tarnishing it, ruining it, ruining you. 
Jerking his hand backwards, he cradled it close to his chest. “Lemme do this. I’m gettin’ blood on your pretty dress, sunshine.” He started to stand but you shook your head, gently pushing him back into the cushion and taking his hand in your grasp once again. 
Looking directly into his eyes with an intensity that you always seemed to carry, your lips curved into a small smile. “Frank, it’s just a dress, sweetheart. I promise it’s ok. Let me help you?” With your free hand, you stroked a wayward strand of his hair off of his clammy forehead.
Despite the fact that your gaze conveyed your desire to continue patching him up regardless of his answer, your tone was stilted–giving him the option to deny your help. 
“You’re too sweet for your own damn good, you know.” He sighed, letting his arm go limp in your grip to let you finish what you’d started. 
“Well, you’re too stoic for yours. Makes us quite a pair, doesn’t it?” Your eyes glimmered roguishly, your smirk encouraging him to roll his eyes. 
“Whatever you say, sunshine.” He snorted, knowing full well that you were right. 
You made quick work of tidying up the split skin across his knuckles, moving on to the bruised skin of his cheeks. 
“Didn’t know you were growing this out, Frankie.” You quipped, tugging gently on the untamed curls of his beard. 
His lips twitched, revealing a glimpse of his teeth as he smiled. “Wasn’t plannin’ on it. Whaddya think?” 
Making a great show of shuffling back to study his face, you tapped your chin. “I like it.” 
“You do? Last time it was this long, everyone thought I was some sort of hipster.” 
Shrugging, you focused your eyes back on the cloth in your hand. “I always like how you look, Frankie.” 
Frank’s breath caught in his throat, unable to quite make it to his lungs. Thankfully, he could blame his lack of response on the fact that you were rinsing the injuries on his face, rather than his own lack of emotional intelligence. 
Eventually, you heaved out a breath, looking at him with a raised brow. “Did you want me to look at whatever’s bothering you here?” You asked, gesturing to his hip. 
“If I told ya I have no idea what you mean, would ya call me on it?” He grumbles, not quite sure how he’d feel revealing that much of himself to you. 
You thought for a minute. Nodding once, you answered. “I’d roll my eyes, but respect your desire for privacy.” 
Swallowing thickly, he huffed a nervous laugh. “Fair enough.” With two fingers, he tugged his loose shirt up and over his head, not bothering to disguise his grimace as he rotated his injured shoulder. Pulling the waistband of his pants down an inch, he suddenly felt a surge of fear, not sure how you’d react to seeing his array of scars. 
Inhaling sharply, you traced around his stitches with a finger. “Oh, Frank.” 
“It’s—“
“It’s not nothing.” Taking his hands again, your intensity returned. “You mean something to me. Seeing you hurt…it’s never nothing, ok? Not to me.”
A lump formed in his throat, he nodded as he tried to swallow it down. “Sorry.” 
“No apology necessary,” You squeezed his hands, placing a tender kiss on the raw knuckles of his right hand before grabbing a roll of bandages from your pile of supplies. “I’m not upset that you’re hurt. I just don’t want you to be afraid to lean on someone else for a change.” 
You dressed his larger wounds in contemplative silence, your soft skin a welcome change to the rough contact he was used to. 
“How’d ya learn to patch people up, sunshine? Playin’ nurse for other neighborhood menaces behind my back?” 
You giggled. “You’re my only patient currently. Cross my heart. I’ve just gotten used to first aid after injuring myself my whole life.” 
Bringing a hand up to cup your cheek, Frank’s brow furrowed. “Injurin’ yourself? What do you mean?” 
Eyes widening in realization, you shook your head. “Not intentionally! I’ve just been a klutz for as long as I can remember.” Chuckling sheepishly, you added, “Takes a toll every once in a while.” 
Laughing with relief, he traced a finger along your jaw as he withdrew his hand from your face. “Ah, gotcha. Christ, had me scared there, pretty girl.” 
Your face flushed with heat at the new pet name. You tied off the fresh bandages and stood up. “You should be good to go, unless you’ve got any other areas that need to be looked at?” 
Blushing as his mind traveled to less innocent places, he shook his head. “I’m fine, honey. Thank you. Really.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.” You winked at him, heading to the kitchen to dispose of the dirty water and trash. As you rinsed the last of the grime from the bowl you’d used, Frank moaned behind you. 
“Holy shit.” His words were mumbled around a mouthful of pastry, the other half of a cherry turnover in his hand. Swallowing with another horrifically attractive noise, he lifted the dessert in a gesture. “Did you make these?” 
“Yes, but they were for after dinner!” You scolded, your smile completely betraying your feigned annoyance. “Cherry turnovers. Do you like them?”
“No, they’re awful.” Frank deadpanned, shoving the rest of the pastry into his mouth ungracefully. You giggled, uncovering the lasagna before he could reach for another turnover. 
“Would you like some actual food, you heathen?” You asked through stray laughs. 
“You made me a lasagna?” 
“Thought you might want some comfort food today. So I made two of my favorites.” 
“Thank you,” Frank spoke your name gravely, as if it was a prayer. “God, sunshine, I dunno what to say.” Your heart ached as his voice cracked around the words.
“You don’t need to say anything, handsome. Just eat, so you can rest soon, yah?” 
Frank couldn’t help but let the tension he’d been carrying for days roll off his back like droplets of water, his eyes crinkling with fondness as you puttered around his kitchen as if you had it memorized. You plated two hearty servings of lasagna and took a seat next to him, handing him a fork. 
“I’m glad you made it back safely.” You smiled, your gaze more timid than he’d ever seen it. 
“Me too, sunshine.” After placing a kiss on your forehead, he speared the fork into the food on his plate, taking a massive bite. 
“You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Frank groaned, beaming at you. 
Laughing brightly, you took a bite of your own, overjoyed to have Frank to eat with again. 
Thanks for reading! As always, comments and reblogs are incredibly appreciated.
Taglist: @cheshirecat484@xxdrix@smhnxdiii@mattmurdocksstarlight@danzer8705
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moonspirit · 2 months ago
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Hi! I'm the same Anon who asked about the hypothetical situation of Annie NOT crystalising herself and the other possible set of events occurring. I read your thoughts and I honestly never even thought about another Kenny and Annie reunion and just.. talking, quite interesting! (Not to mention Pam's own idea that they wrote - I like it!) Including another mentioning a fic where Annie sees her Dad as a Titan during the second Colossal Titan attack and.. I may had a pretty devious idea. So, let's say Annie did in some way join the Scouts (or just is betraying the Warriors,) so during the mission to retake Shinganshina and there's the scene where Zeke & the mindless Titan's appear, what if one of those mindless creatures was her Dad? (This next part, I'm somewhat iffy since it really feels I mis-characterised her since I tend to mess up, so my apologies!) I'm not sure HOW it could play out then, maybe Annie in some desperate attempt to hold her Dad down so it's not mauled by Levi or Zeke. Though, one thing is clear, she sees the Colossal Titan going down and realises that in some selfish way.. she could bring her Dad back, it'll be a curse he'll bare too but at least she'll see him. And oh.. That's Armin. Completely charred, yet still breathing. With the Scouts debating whenever to save Erwin or Armin. This is all I have before I genuinely write more nonsense, I appreciate taking your time to answer my previous question. Please, have a lovely day! (AND I'M SO SORRY FOR HOW WORDY THIS IS)
Oohhhh hello again anon! I'm honestly so relieved you saw my answer because you sent me the ask on sept 19th and... I took nearly a month to answer - very sorry T^T But I enjoyed it so much and yes, the variety of thoughts on it have been incredibly interesting!
Some quick things first tho 1. you don't have to apologise for a long-ask, they are genuinely enjoyable xD 2. I don't think there's such a thing as mis-characterization especially when we talk about a completely new what-if scenario because there's soooooo many little things influencing a person's thoughts and actions and the resultant outcomes. So nope, there are only headcanons, they are all valid, and you don't need to worry about anything else :>
Now to your ask!
🙃
How dare you now bring THREE contenders for the serum with Annie in the mess? Erwin, I don't see her caring for, but now it's Armin vs. her Dad?
What in the gut-wrenching angst is this, holy shit anon 🥲
But no, genuinely I don't think Annie trying to protect her father from Levi's attacks is out of character for her. That is her DAD. She may have joined the Scouts as you say, but maybe that's because it's her best chance for survival. Betraying the warriors isn't Annie's concern, it's betraying her dad. At any cost, even by joining the scouts, she must return to him.
Only, she probably didn't expect to see him in Paradis, and as a titan no less.
Of course she's abandoning everything else (let's say she doesn't know of Armin's plan) and rushing to protect her father and get him out of the line of fire - perhaps by taking him down in her titan form and dragging him to safety, using her scream to summon other pure titans to whoever is attacking and using the time to do so.
(wait... now I suddenly have the mental picture of Annie and Zeke engaging in a screaming match 🥲)
Her sudden switch in priorities isn't likely to bode well with the others, especially when so much is happening and the Scouts find themselves in a dangerously cornered pinch.
Annie's very good at analyzing a situation and quickly making problem-solving decisions, given two options, she chooses the one in which she has a greater chance of survival (yet sometimes she also willingly walks in to dead ends thanks to her heart, but that's canon). Like leaving Marco on the roof vs saving him, but now..... now we have an extreme situation.
Say she thought immediately crosses her mind - of feeding her father the colossal once she learns it's been taken down. She may not have become attached to Bertholdt as much as she considered him a companion in their mission and someone from home, but he's still... a companion. A fellow warrior.
How do you feed such a person to your father?
And then of course:
That's Armin. Completely charred, yet still breathing.
How do you save your father at the cost of losing the one boy who makes your heart beat faster than the wind?
The one boy you swore you'd protect, as long as you wore the wings of freedom by his side.
The one boy who's looked you in the eyes and said I love you.
Nothing makes sense anymore.
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bugtoonz · 4 months ago
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I got some characters for your headcanon station! :D
• Bradley. Do it. I'm hyper with the skunk >:)
• Vin Moosk! He's cool!! X3
• Numbuhs 86 and 362! Our beloved moongirls <3
• Julie (the girl from op. P.O.I.N.T.)! Cute and underrated character!!
• and our supreme girlboss... NUMBUH 23 🖤❤️
(Sorry if I sent so many asks! XD)
Hope you have an awesome day! 💕
Not too many at all! I love the variety. Since there’s so many, I’ll probably only 1-2 headcanons for each.
Bradley’s favorite room in the treehouse to sleep in is Wally’s. You know how animals always seem to know which person in the room likes them the least and then consciously choose to bother that person the most? That’s Bradley lmao. He also has a wide collection of sweaters that Kuki likes to dress him up in, but after his robo-surgery it’s a lot harder to put them on.
Okay to be completely transparent I totally forgot Vin Moosk existed and had to google him. Fake fan guys, sorry. Anyways, after Moosk breaks free of his accounting job (again), he begins his new career as a menswear bounty hunter! Since the queen tie has been defeated, he’s broadened his horizons and dedicated himself to stopping all sorts of stiff, expensive clothing. Windsor is currently trying to locate him, to no avail.
Numbuhs 86 and 362 spend most of their lunch breaks together. Rachel is often too busy to leave her office so Fanny brings her lunch to her, and they sit and talk about all the crazy confidential data they’re privy too and also how much Fanny hates stupid boys. Sometimes Rachel nods off during the conversation, but Fanny is usually too caught up in her own ranting to even notice.
Julie is one of Cree’s friends, as they’re both on McClintock High’s volleyball team. She isn’t a teen ninja, however. She’s too nice for that. Her and Marty end up breaking up a few months after their attempted date at The Point, but in typical teenage fashion get back together when they realize they can’t live without each other (they break up again next month).
I loveeee Virginia. She was 100% the girl that tried to make you eat earth worms in kindergarten. She really likes old school fighting games like Street Fighter and Tekken. Her and Bartie once connected her game console to one of the main monitors of the Moonbase Observation Bridge and were officially banned from Moonbase for a week for it. It was totally worth it.
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cyandreamzaceattorney · 2 months ago
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♡ April May ♡
Oh boy it's been a hot minute since I was last on this site, long story short I've been super busy with real life stuff and, while I've now gotten more time to draw than last week, I may become less active over the next few months :P
Anyways time to talk about the drawing! Yesterday I felt like drawing April May, why? Because not only did I feel like drawing something super cute and pink but, also I actually do enjoy April May's character quite a bit! It was a lot of fun to draw her and design a cute outfit loosely inspired by her canon outfit! I also gave her a fuller figure because she kinda has one in official art though that's probably mostly due to trilogy art style drawing often drawing aa characters (especially men) thicker, but I like drawing all kinds of body types so I decided I'd draw her chubby/mid sized anyways :P
now to talk more about her character >:-). A lot of people seem to think of her a lesser version of Ini Miney or even Dahlia Hawthorne but personally, I feel like all three of these women are quite different from each other, sure there are many traits that are same but that's the case for well, any one if you compare them to someone else, let alone characters in the same fictional franchise :P
So why do I like her? Well the main one is that to me she's to me a women who is unlikable but, you can't help but feel sorry for. I feel this way because while yes she did help Redd White blackmail many and kill Mia, and she does have a rude, harsh and literally catty personality but, she's was also stuck in a bad and potentially dangerous situation. A lot of people seem to forget that Redd White is a powerful and dangerous man, who had enough power to blackmail people with a lot of power and influence. also in one of her dialogue options she does outright mention being scared of him, because he knows how to shut people up. Personally wouldn't be surprised if Mia wasn't his first murder but that's a hc based off that line of dialogue.
speaking of hc's I do have a few for April May! (these do have minor spoilers for AA3, AAI1/2)
She's from Zheng Fa, now I haven't finished AAI2 yet (on case 4 atm) so idk if case 4 and 5 will effect this hc or not, but I noticed both Shi-Long and Di-Jun kinda act and look animal like in a similar way to April, of course her name doesn't really fit with Zheng Fa names but given she has a fake cutesy personality the name could also be fake (or she legally changed it to April May either after moving to America or after she started working at Blue Corp)
She met Dahlia in prison, I feel like she would've been sent to prison for a while due to being an accomplice in many of Redd White's crimes and since Morgan was able to meet Dahlia any other prisoner could as well, including April. I mostly have this hc cuz I feel like these two would at first bound over hating lawyers and how easy it is to fool people with a cutesy act, but than stop bonding when April learns a bit more about Dahlia.
Before working at Blue Corp she wanted to be a model and even dating a bit during that time, but neither worked out. One of her bf's just so happened to be Larry Butz (did I only come up with this hc because I learnt April and Larry are same age? maybe XD)
because she's a one off character in my mind she got her life together after serving her jail sentence. Maybe she got into a completely different job like running a bakery or something, idk lol
I hope you all enjoy my hc's and this drawing X3
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sleepyforestbeast · 26 days ago
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What're Emi and the gang like? Is Emi the (pushy) leader type? :D Did they keep in contact with Husk as they got older?
Thank you for the ask!! 💖 this is gonna get so long I'm sorry haha
The gang lives in the port city of Iljak in a country called Chondath (Forgotten Realms lore though the campaign I'm in is home-brew)
Emi- Emi is the defacto leader of the group as the most outgoing human, she can slip through a crowd quite easily and talk her way out of most situations. While she has the group doing doing odd jobs for the thieves guild, she hopes to raise enough money to get the gang (who she sees as her family) out of Chondath and into a neighbouring country that treats the poor and non-humans better (ie not kill on sight for the latter) and ideally wants to get into the magic item trade as a legitimate business like her family.
Emi herself is a bastard, her mother was a foreign merchant and her father is a minor royal. They had intended to marry but her father's family got involved since it wasn't a marriage that would benefit his family. Emi's mother became his mistress in secret and they had two children, Emi and Gus but when the royal family found out they dragged Emi and her family's name through the mud and had Emi's mother killed. Emi and Gus were hidden just in time by their uncle, who still lives in the city unable to leave having been stripped of his wealth and title so he spends his days drinking and Emi takes care of him when she's not with the gang.
Husk knew Emi for about 5 years before she was caught stealing and killed as punishment, this caused Husk and the gang's lives to spiral after losing their best friend and Husk lost contact with everyone after being found out as a fey and sent to the wizard's tower.
Gus - Gus is Emi's younger brother who likes to cause trouble and has less of a moral compass than Emi. He and Husk have been rivals ever since they met but it mellowed out to something more friendly as they got older. Gus has a knack for pushing people's buttons XD
Andi - Andi is a tiefling and the oldest of the group, he works for the thieves guild but spends his free time making sure Emi and the gang are safe. He was originally from a merchant family who were trying to hide his tiefling appearance and spent most of his life in luxury at the cost of his freedom. He escaped that life and his helping Emi with her dream to move to Turmish and start a business there. I have a comic with him here XD
Sonni - Sonni is a young orphaned girl the gang picked up a few months before Husk, she's shy and rarely speaks but is very sweet. She is very nimble and makes a great thief and a wonderful dancer XD
The twins - despite them being created the same time as the others i haven't settled on names for them 😭 these two are half-elven and were born in a small village bordering the Chondalwood forest and were left to their human father to raise but due to Chondath's distrust of even half-elves, they had a rough time growing up, eventually the twins fled to the city under the belief they might have more chances in Iljak but unfortunately the city was stricter and worse it's treatment of non humans. Emi found them soon after they arrived and they've been with the group ever since.
Those are the main members, other kids have come and gone but this is the core group who have stayed together since Husk arrived :D
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corpus-chorus · 11 months ago
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Hi there! I hope its not too random,i was Always curious to hear if you had favorite hcs regarding mark egos ?
so it's been straight up three months since you sent this and i have once again let an ask I really wanted to answer fester in my inbox for way too long.
Gonna put this one under a read more outta courtesy :]
Okay, but headcanons! I actually don't have a huge amount, since I tend to lean towards strictly canon or just exploring different ideas rather than having specific hcs. But for a few:
Illinois is ace or aroace. I don't remember who I first saw say it right after Heist came out, but I mentioned it to my (ace) wife as an example of what a headcanon was 'cause she didn't really understand them. And then she got really invested in it and now I just have an attachment to it lol. But just, I love the suave, sexy, put together stereotypical adventure hero who's very aware of his charm and sex appeal just having . . . zero interest in pursuing it. The whole "married to the work" and especially the line "Sorry if you fell in love with me - they always do". It just makes me happy lol.
Dark isn't anywhere near as strong as he pretends to be. I was such a Dark whore in like 2017/2018, but the more time I spent exploring him as a character, the more he really started to shape into this manipulative posturing thing, and I just really like the idea of him not actually being that strong. So much of his position and "strength" comes from his reputation and image instead of things he's actually done. And even if he is still strong, he'd be disincentivize to show off just how strong, since others being afraid of how strong he might be based off rumor and image is better than someone realizing they might be stronger than him. Idk if that makes any sense, but god I just love the idea of all of Dark being a lie XD
Bim Trimmer is a cannibal. I literally cannot unsee this one. This motherfucker just has teeth filed to points in my head and eats people. Zero idea why, that's just . . . that's just his entire character to me. Markipler-flavored Hannibal Lector.
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ladytauria · 1 year ago
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I need to know more about Neither a Bang Nor a Whimper!!!!
-@bi-bats (ughghghgh sideblog laws sorry for the anon)
So, njw's Where's My Goddamn Dinosaur? was one of the first Jaytim fics I ever read, & immediately left me wanting more time travel fics (which, time travel fix-its & the like were already a favorite genre of mine lol). I also read a lot of gen time travel & dimension travel, and. Anyway. That led to "Neither a Bang Nor a Whimper."
It's gone through a few different changes since I first started planning it / writing it. The first version had future!Tim being sent back in time, in his younger body, and I wrote the first two chapters that way. Then I decided I liked future!Tim being sent there as himself better, mostly because in addition to Jaytim I want to explore what Tim's interactions with his younger self might be like. I have also been considering a version where Jason and Tim are sent back to the past, together (for the same reasons as previous). I may make that an entirely separate fic, lol.
But! At least in the current draft, it's 17-year-old Tim sent back in time a few days before Jason died. The title is a reference to the catalyst of the time travel being the end of the world, similar to Where's My Goddamn Dinosaur--though not with the branching timelines~
It's also one of the first fics I started writing, and I've learned a lot more about canon vs fanon & my preferences re: those things since xD So what I do have needs some heavy rewrites, again :P
But have this snippet anyway~
The world as he knew it... is gone. The invasion saw to that. One by one, all of Tim's loved ones had dropped like flies—from the Teen Titans, to Batman himself, to Alfred. this was his only way forward, now—even if it meant, for all intents and purposes, going backward.
The only question is… when?
Six months ago, when this all started? He, and the rest of Earth's heroes, could stop it, especially with the data that Tim had collected over the last six months. That was the logical choice. Tim's life, as he knew it, would go on, exactly as it was before.
But...
Tim looks at the chronometer, turning it over in his hands, watching the light play on the silver. This is his one chance to go back. He should choose carefully. Weigh his choices, make the right one. the best one.
He has no idea exactly how it works. If he goes back to a time he exists, will there be two of him? Or will his consciousness replace his former self?
He doesn't know.
If its the latter, his choices narrow. He can't save Dick's parents—not from the body of a four year old. Tim bites his lip.
He flips the watch open.
If he’s being honest... there's always been one particular date he's been drawn to. One thing he wanted to change, more than anything else. Maybe it's selfish of him, to narrow down to that particular point—to ignore every other tragedy, every other pivotal moment in his life, in his family's lives.
But if you can't be selfish at the end of the world... when can you be?
So… with only a split second of hesitation, Tim keys in the date—and presses the button. There’s a soft chime, and then—
The world warps around him, bending and twisting, blurring together like some awful fevered haze.
And then the floor drops out beneath him, and he is falling, falling, falling—
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vrystalius · 2 months ago
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Bird Hashira anon again. Idk if I'm ever gonna post this story but I thought you might be interested in just some random fun tidbits I have about this character
Pre hashira
He is really good at hiding, like most of his kills involve demons who didn't even know he was there.
After a couple years in the corps OC basically just assigned himself the recon aspect of the hashiras roles. Just cause he was good at it
Kagaya noticed that he was pretty good at the whole information gathering aspect and just started officially sending him to do that shit. It really helped cut back on unnecessary deaths of lower ranked slayers.
Usually he just responds with a ‘yeah this one was p fucked. It's been dealt w ✌️’
Occasionally sends a ‘please send someone competent or I'm going to die 🙂’
This is how he has met a handful of present and future hashira.
When he met Giyuu, he realized that the man is as awkward as him (but in a different way) and declared him a friend. He does not care if Giyuu agrees to this.
Whilst both of them will just walk away from awkward/unwanted conversations the key difference is OC will just outright say ‘i don't like this conversation, goodbye!’
Giyuu is very stressed because OC likes to drop out of the sky like an actual bird except he can't actually fly???
Kagaya has given him a little cottage that attached to wherever unassigned (and Injured/sick crows) hang out. I call it the Avery.
He spends his free time hanging out and gossiping with the crows. He knows waaaaaay to much about the rest of the corps.
Post Hashira
He technically didn't kill the lower moon himself, the sunrise did. So there is some debate over whether or not that should count
It's a pretty even split on who is for and who is against.
Truly a bewildering moment to all present when Giyuu, Obanai and Sanemi were all on the no side of things. Those two have never agreed with Giyuu once in their life.
Later someone tells OC Giyuu voted no and he is like ‘lmao that's fair, our last joint mission was a complete disaster!’
Shinobu terrifies him but in like… a positive way. He thinks it's too bad that their fighting styles don't compliment each other very well.
By the time cannon starts he is the second shortest hashira (by like half an inch, it's truly devastating the day Muichiro surpasses him)
Also thinking about the Tanjiro incident and imagining Obanai and OC furiously competing for the one well placed tree. Because they can't both be in it??? ‘Im the BIRD Hashira! Go lie on a rock or something!!!’
He also has a tragic backstory ™ but like that's less fun than all of this tbh so I'll leave that be lmao
Oh I remember this! So sorry for not replying earlier, I overlooked somehow between all the other messages :,) apologies for the month-late reply
I love Giyu being friends with your OC except he wasn’t informed about it, basically he isn’t aware himself that he is his friend. I feel like the closest they have gotten to friendship activities is either silently eating soba noodles side by side and slaying demons together. Maybe it could be like a known thing that your OC sends a complaint every time they partner up with someone, but never sent one out about Giyu or Obanai (Obanai was the love interest, right? My memory is terrible XD)
Also, love the idea of Obanai and your OC arguing about who gets to sit in trees. Obanai would be very stubborn about giving his spot up and may need some persuasion, maybe trading good missions for a month for a month’s worth of tree-owning. Or the tree is treated like a child of a divorce, for one week, it’s in the OCs possession and in the other in Obanai’s. Although they don’t get to use those privileges often since it’s not every day that Kagaya gets the hashira together for a meeting.
Thank you for sharing this— I like reading about OCs people use! I’m not sure if this was a self-insert or just an OC, if you mentioned it before I probably forgot, but I like the idea of getting to know how people imagine themselves in their favourite media or work of fiction. I sometimes wonder what you all imagine when I write mine :P
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teecupangel · 2 years ago
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I'm sorry you probably have a lot of fic ideas but I need to get this sentence out before I lose my Staying Up After Midnight Nerves
Den Mother Desmond
Feel free to leave fic ideas, nonny. Even if I get busy, I’ll get to it sooner or later. XD
Not gonna lie, I was tempted to make this a continuation of Desmond Jerusalem Bureau’s Lighthouse since I did have him asking Malik what he wants for dinner last time but you used the word ‘den’ and that immediately reminded me of the Assassin dens in Assassin’s Creed Revelations soooo… have a confused Ezio.
==================================================
When Ezio saw the bright form running across the rooftops, he chased after it immediately. It wasn’t just curiosity…
It was like his entire body had moved on its own.
A few moments later, any questions he had were wiped off his mind.
Only one thought persisted.
‘Get it at all cost.’
He didn’t even know what ‘it’ was until he was closing in. At that point, it was as if all the Assassins in Constantinople were chasing it as well.
No.
Not it.
A man.
Desmond.
Or, at least, that was what he said his name was after Ezio caught him and asked his name.
Ezio… wasn’t entirely sure if he believed everything Desmond had told him once they were alone in an empty bedroom in the den in Galatea.
A part of Ezio didn’t want to believe it.
After everything he had seen, Desmond’s explanation did give him the answers he had been searching for all these times.
But it also left him…
A bit lost.
And that was the reason why he was unwilling to believe it.
Then Desmond kept running away and Ezio always found him.
It had gotten to the point that Yusuf talked to Ezio about it.
Desmond was too bright in their Eagle Vision. The Assassins would either get blinded or they would find it hard to focus whenever they used their Eagle Vision and Desmond was nearby.
And that was a dangerous risk that they would not afford here in Constantinople.
So… Ezio made a deal with Desmond.
The reason why Desmond kept running away was because he was trying to get all of Altaïr’s memory seals to get Altaïr’s Apple, hoping the Apple could tell him why he had been sent to this time.
Desmond insisted there must be a reason why he was here and Ezio had to stop himself from telling him that he was here for Ezio’s sake.
Ezio didn’t understand why he was so sure of that and he couldn’t just say that out loud. Not when it was clear that Desmond was pretending that he was alright.
But Ezio could see it in his eyes.
Desmond was also a bit lost just like him.
So Ezio promised him to find the remaining keys and they would travel to Masyaf together to get Altaïr’s Apple.
The look of grief in Desmond’s eyes when he said that made Ezio’s heart clench.
There was something in Masyaf that Desmond had lost and…
Well…
Ezio knew what it was almost immediately.
No.
Who it was.
If what Desmond said was true, if he truly did relive not just Ezio’s memories but Altaïr’s memories as well, then it was normal that Desmond would still grieve his death.
To Ezio, Altaïr has been dead for centuries.
But to Desmond…
Only a month or so has passed since he learned of Altaïr’s death if his stories were to be believed.
So Ezio asked Desmond to stay in the Assassin den in Galatea. It was the most fortified of the dens and it had the biggest space. He only hoped his time in the den would give Desmond some time to relax (or distract himself with something not life-threatening).
Ezio had hoped this would help Desmond with his grief as well. Not just to grieve for Altaïr’s death but to grieve over what had happened to him, to grieve for the life and the people he lost by being thrown into Ezio’s time.
What he did not expect was… the changes the den would go through because of Desmond’s boredom.
It started out small.
When Ezio returned to the den to resupply his bombs, he noticed that all of the bomb components have been organized. Each component was even already placed into specific pouches with the exact amount needed for one bomb. There were even instructions nailed to the side of the boxes, explaining the steps needed to make a bomb as well as a brief explanation of each component.
The Arabic handwriting was unfamiliar to Ezio but then he saw the Italian instructions written below it.
It was Ezio’s own handwriting.
He was sure of it.
Which meant… Desmond had written it.
He had noticed Desmond had the same handwriting as him and Ezio was sure he was missing a few key pieces of information about the Bleeding Effect but Ezio did understand that it was the Bleeding Effect that helped Desmond copy many of Ezio’s skills and techniques.
And, apparently, handwriting…
Ezio didn’t say a word about it though. If Desmond was keeping himself busy by organizing things in the den, he was free to do so.
Maybe he’d even find a way to organize the mess that Yusuf called the record room.
But Ezio did not expect it to escalate to this level.
Now, the Galatea den feels like… home.
The scent of a homemade meal in the air made Ezio’s mouth water. There was no more equipment or paperwork lying haphazardly on one of the tables or on the floor (and that one time that Ezio saw a sword stuck to the ceiling that Yusuf just waved off but offered no explanation to). The novices were busy preparing the tables with plates and cutlery while other novices were trying to finish their chores so they could eat as well.
The other Assassins seemed excited to eat as well, some even going as far as poking their head into the kitchen before quickly ducking away as if they had been caught.
Curiosity getting the better of him, Ezio walked inside the kitchen and Desmond immediately turned around and smiled at him as he said, “Welcome back, Ezio. Lunch’s just about ready.”
Ezio walked towards the table where a novice was chopping fruits that would probably be served together with whatever Desmond was cooking, “It smells wonderful, Desmond.”
Desmond turned around to focus on the cooking pot as he replied, “Thanks! I tried adding a few more herbs this time. Yusuf brought back some meat he got from the market and-”
“Ow!” Ezio shouted as Desmond quickly turned around and hit his hand by throwing one of the ladles near him. Ezio turned to stare at Desmond with a betrayed look on his face and it took all of Ezio’s willpower to not cower when he saw Desmond was now glaring at him.
“Have you washed your hands, Ezio?” Desmond asked.
“Of c-” Ezio’s mouth immediately closed when Desmond raised an eyebrow. Ezio sighed as he said, “I’ll wash them now.”
Desmond nodded before turning to face the pot once more. Ezio looked at the slice of fruit he was just about to take and blinked when the novice chopping fruits slid the plate filled with sliced fruits away from Ezio.
Ezio raised an eyebrow at the novice who began to glance between him and Desmond for a moment before finally staring at Ezio with an apologetic expression on his face as he slid the plate further away from Ezio.
Ezio sighed…
And went to wash his hands.
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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 6 months ago
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1: What "fictional place" would the duo act out when they play? Like medieval times with wizards & dragons, modern secret spy place (metal gear solid) or outer space defeating aliens. Etc
2: When playing cowboys (stand off), who gets shot first? Or since they are Star Wars fans, who's Han Solo & who's greedo? XD
3: What type of story and/or map(s) would you create for the duo, Jon & mar'i, in a COD zombie type game?
4: Who would be "uno" in a game of uno between the duo, mar'i, and the supersons?
5: You know how there is versus matches between popular characters for plot reasons (Batman vs Superman, Godzilla vs Kong etc) how would the duo get into a fight? Maybe mind control?
I would like to say thanks for answering my amazing questions for the past 9 months (wow, been that long). Really glad to see your universe improved (especially Chris and Jake)
For now, I’m going to stop (don’t worry I’m still around to chat and tag you in stuff XD) cause
1: kinda hard to ask what type of questions to say and remembering if I asked a question already
2: we kinda do chat about stuff almost everyday
Until I figure out more, see you later buddy! (Flies away on nimbus from dragon ball XD)
💙💜💙
Sorry if it took a long time to get this my friend @pin-crusher2000 but after much looking over and consideration, here shall be my answers ;-)
1) Oh too easy; either ancient Kryptonian and Tamaranean warriors from their history, fighting against their numerous enemies whether it be the Gordanians played by their plushies or even each other as a fair duel, so basically Space warriors OR As a Royal Prince and his Bodyguard Knight against demons and enemy knights like in a fantasy world akin to D&D
2) Chris = Han Solo
Jake = Greedo
and yes Han Blasts Greedo First
3) Okay So, the Kents and Graysons would find themselves waking up in a corrupted and twisted version of Bludhaven, swarming with hordes of the red eyed Undead, hellhounds, Demoniac Bats, and even Three Headed Canines (functionally the latter two are akin to the Parasites and Margwas). They have their superpowers albeit severely dampened and diminished to which they can only take down at most the zombies at the same time before they need to strike again.
The basic story is that before being sent here, the four were tipped on what was a summoning ritual by some cultists who were trying to summon Trigon, likely led by Brother Blood and while they prevent Trigon himself from coming out, the spell was corrupted and activated anyways so now it’s up to our heroes to gathered enough of their strength and find the source of these demonic Zombies in order to escape this Hell. Guiding them though would be one young voice; a girl who sounds no older than Mar’i but intelligent and willing to help them as they traverse this hellish city in exchange for also helping her, wherever she may be. This ancient evil beyond their imagination summoned by those cultists and their sins was invited and she concludes there’s far more to them than this…how their very world maybe even their multiverse itself is now in danger and they can stop it with her…..her name is Samantha, she’s going to tell them how all of this really began.
While not exactly Wonder Weapons in the traditionally sense, the Mystery Box would grant our heroes gauntlets, capes, headbands like what Chris and Mar’i wear and other accessories which do grant them enhanced powers that function like them. One gauntlet Jake can equip on his gloves can cause a chain reaction electric shock to the Zombies he punches a la the Wunderwaffe DG2. The map itself while a sprawling city with a central hub in the City Square with branching areas including the Dockyards, Downtown, the Suburbs, Bludhaven Stadium and the Pack A Punch location being Titans Tower, has numerous Kino/Der Riese style walkways, barriers and corridors allowing players to vary their play styles whether it be camping, training or going with the flow.
So yeah basically a combination of Mob of the Dead, Shadows of Evil and Maur der Toten with a tiny pinch of Origins
I shall dub this Map;
Jugend der Untoten (Youth of the Undead)
4) Mar’i; she trounces all of the boys without any fail but doesn’t cheat. Her secret is to always get rid of her cards that have the lowest number first
5) hmmm……
Christopher Kent, Nightwing Phantom VS Son Gohan
Jakand’r, Jacob Grayson, Skybird VS Bailey Briggs, The Amazing Spider Boy*
Oh I say maybe Inter-dimensional Tournament which puts their respective worlds at risk of destruction should they lose. Naturally all these combatants would ally to overturn the rules and save their worlds together as a team
(Yes he’s a real character ;-) )
Thanks for the asks again Buddy
💙💜💙
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thedeluluverse · 1 year ago
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Summary: It is your mission to hang out with and support your boyfriend today, his stubbornness be damned (lovingly)!
Pairing:  idol!Jungkook x therapistgfF!reader.
Genre: idol!au, fluff, angst from mental health issues, established relationship, songfic
Word Count: 1, 473
Warnings:  mentions of depression/isolation, slightly stubborn Koo
Author’s Note: I’ve liked Paramore for as long as I can remember and especially applying it to Jungkook gives it a whole new meaning! Had this idea which is inspired by the song “Be Alone” by Paramore.
It’s a beautiful Thursday afternoon and you are enjoying the breeze through your open windows as you wrap up cleaning your apartment on your rare day off. As you finally sit down, you grab your phone and text your boyfriend of 10 months to see if he’s free.
Y/N: Hey Koo! Just finished cleaning and after I freshened up I was wondering if you’d like to grab boba and go hang out at the park! I understand if you’re busy, but I just miss you, so I wanted to ask. Hope you’re having a good day! <3
                With the text sent, you are off to do some rewarding self-care and a much-needed shower. About half an hour later, you hear back from Koo; as you see his name light up your phone, excitement courses through you since both of you have been busy lately and you really hope he accepts your offer. Inputting your passcode, you can see his message which reads:
JK: Hey love, I hate to disappoint you, but I’m not really in the mood to hang out or be in public today. I can call or facetime you later if you want though, just let me know. <3
                As you read his reply, your heart sinks a bit. You understand he has these bouts of heightened introversion, as you do, so you think of another plan quickly!
Y/N: Okay, I get that honey! You’ve been doing so much lately I don’t blame you at all for wanting to be a homebody XD How about I pick up some banana milk and ramen and come hang out with you and Bam? 😊
JK: I told you y/n, I’m not in the mood to hang out. Not today at least.
Y/N: Oh okay, thought that was just a “no” for going out in public. Sorry if I bothered you…
JK: Aish! Not everything is about you y/n! You aren’t bothering me; I just want to be alone today alright?
Y/N: *sniffles* Alright. TTYL.
                After sending your reply, you put your phone on silent and decide to resume your art project with music blaring in the background to try and stop your thoughts racing. The fact that Jungkook is never that short with you, especially via text combined with your disappointment of not getting to see him has you ready to crawl into bed for the rest of the day. On his end, he realizes he’s upset you once he sees not only your short reply but the periods after both which is something you don’t typically do for replies that simple.
                Fast forward about an hour and your picture is almost done which makes you feel better but it’s almost done which means all of the feels are starting to come back. You are tempted to check your phone but he wants to be alone so why give yourself false hope? Pushing away the tempting thought, you fix yourself some food instead. As you sit down, you grab the blanket next to you and drag it over you; as you do so, your phone, that you forgot was buried in it, flips screen up revealing a string of notifications from none other than your worried boyfriend. Deciding against ignoring it further, you open your phone and read his thread which started about ten minutes after you had started busying yourself.
JK:  Hey y/n… I feel like I upset you and if that is the case, I’m really sorry.
JK: I’m just not having a good day and I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.
JK: I am ready to talk though if you are.
JK: Babe…. You’re starting to worry me, please reply even if it’s just a period.
JK: Y/n, it’s been an hour are you okay?
JK: Alright, if I don’t hear back from you in 10 minutes I’m heading over.
                That text was 8 minutes ago and now you feel bad for worrying him so much. He knows that you also have mental health issues and have had dark thoughts before which tend to get worse the more you isolate yourself plus getting triggered by his aggression. You know you had a valid reason for ignoring your phone. You are attempting to break your cycle of constantly checking your phone or pushing for info so yeeting your phone was your solution. Although, you admit now, maybe putting it on silent was a step too far. After all, there could have been an emergency with him or your best friend Nari! You start typing so he sees the bubbles at least. After a moment, you have crafted your reply.
Y/N: Firstly, I am okay, didn’t mean to worry you.
Y/N: Secondly, I was upset in fact and I’m glad you realized that. I get if you need alone time, but the aggression was triggering and that plus me missing you was just not a good mix. I figured instead of trying and pry more, I’d just leave you be so I made my reply short.
Y/N: Thirdly, I do want to know what’s going on and would like to talk to you. Let me know when you’re ready for me to call.
                No sooner had he read the reply, did your phone light up with his face on an incoming call. He explains that his depression randomly kicked in late last night and he didn’t want to agree to hang out with you and you be bored. He didn’t really have anything to bring up in this state and just wanted to stay on his couch rather than go out. He didn’t excuse the aggression, rather explained where it came from as it wasn’t like him. The frustration with his brain, plus missing you, plus feeling like he was disappointing him just turned into a tornado of aggravation towards himself and in his weakened state, it slipped out to you. You understood where he was coming from 1000% and accepted his apology as you could tell it was genuine.
                As the conversation ended, you thanked him for opening up to you and let him know that he can always tell you anything. He thanked you more for listening and appreciated the offer, but you already see so many clients a day that he didn’t want to add more onto your plate. Scoffing lovingly, you let him know that being a therapist means that you learn how to not take on everyone else’s stuff but still be there for them; and you especially wanted to be there for him.
                Understanding your points, he hummed in agreement but stopped you as you tried to end the call:
Y/N: Alrighty jagi, I’ll let you go now. Hope you feel better and just know I’m here if you want okay? See you la-
JK: WAIT! JAGIYA!
Y/N: You know one day if I need hearing aids you’re paying for half right? What is it hun??
JK: First of all, I didn’t hear you complaining the other night when I was being loud *smirking can be heard*
Y/N: *pouts in silence at his valid point even though you both know that’s not what you meant*
JK: *chuckles* Wow, didn’t think I’d be able to laugh today, thanks y/n; anyway, if you still want to, I’d really like if you came over like you said earlier. I haven’t really eaten anything today or gotten groceries since I’ve been so busy…plus I really miss you.
JK: I mean, I understand if you don’t want to, I’m kind of boring today.
Y/N: Well, I’m glad I could help your mood a bit Koo : ) I’m down! I’ll go grab some things at the store by your place so it’s still hot when I get to you! And stop that nonsense! You’re never boring to me, and you should never feel the need to entertain me. Your presence is more than enough my bun bun. See you soon baby!
JK: I can’t wait to have my favorite person here! The ramen and banana milk are just a bonus 😉
                About 30 minutes later, you arrive at his door with multiple bags in hand since you got carried away. He opens the door and instantly grabs all the bags and puts them on the floor so he can pick you up into a warm embrace both of you letting a few tears fall from all the emotions of the day. You rub his back and run your fingers through his hair for comfort but get distracted by Bam placing his paws on your thighs. Jungkook lets you down and pats Bam’s head for him to get down as you wipe the tears from each other’s face and give a few soft kisses before heading to the kitchen to make comfort food in the comfort of each other’s presence.
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lobito-snz · 8 months ago
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When will you upload a scenario again? (Sorry if anything is spelled wrong, English is not my primary language)
hii, ik its been a while since a made a scenario, the reason is that the only way i can induce a good amount of sneezes (more than only 2 XD) is using chhinkni, andddd i ran out of it, so i'd have to buy more but rn it's kinda hard for me to buy things like that bc these last months i've been VERY (but like- VERY VERY) busy, i've been doing a LOT of animation (3D and 2D), photography, writing, producing and a loot of work related things, so its like a cycle where: i need material for my work - i buy it - i do my work - with the money i earn i buy more material - and everything again, sooo rn i can't be very active on doing scenarios, cause i need a good amount of chhinkni for that (and i don't have it 😩😩)
soo, sorry for that, just be patient please :)🙏
i do have some requests that a lot of you have sent to me, i'll try to record all of them, but again, be patient hahaha :")
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