#sorry i refuse to embarrass myself by making a post but i have nobody else to talk to about this

[wibble-wobbegong]

tag rant 👍

[volturiwolf]

Soulmates - A Demetri Volturi x Reader Imagine

A/N: This is the first imagine I finished and uploaded, and it came quite unexpectedly while talking with @volturidoll13 who suggested a Demetri Volturi one-shot where the reader would follow Bella and Alice to Italy and would accidentally say “wish he’d choke ME” out loud (see my post for reference). So, here it is. Also, I’m sorry if something doesn’t make sense. English is not my first langage. Enjoy :)

No of Words: 5749

Mentions of: Swear Language, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Dying/Death, Killings, Self-doubt, Self-consciousness, Kinky Choking, Sexual Arousal

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I think I had enough of Bella. No, I know I've had enough of her. She may be my best friend, the one who truly understood me the moment I stepped foot in Forks High School, beginning of last year, but this was just too much.

I have spent countless hours trying to support her when Edward Cullen left her, 5 months ago. I was there to be her emotional support, and even spent time with Jacob Black, an old friend of Bella's, who stayed at the Quileute reservation.

Jacob seemed kind of polite, although his attempts to flirt with Bella whenever he could were cringy, to say the least. But I supported her then too, trying to be sort of the third wheel / the one who tried to show Jacob she wasn't really interested in him that way.

His friends, Embry and Quil, were as nice and polite as they were beautiful. When Embry abandoned Jacob and Quil, Bella and I were there to support him. When Jacob abandoned Bella, I was there to support her. 

Even when Bella was sad, angry and desperate to know what happened to Jacob, I was there to calm her down. I was there when she went to see him and he turned her away. I was there when she slapped Paul in the face. I was there when he turned into a huge wolf, and I couldn't help but scream.

Jacob explained everything about the wolves to both Bella and I. He told us how it's part of their DNA; how they are meant to protect the tribe from dangerous outsiders; how the metamorphosis from human to wolf can be somehow controlled over time, with practice and persistence. THAT I could understand.

What I couldn't understand was how vampires existed in this world! It wasn't Bella the one to reveal that secret to me, rather Alice, Edward's sister. Apparently, she saw Bella dying, the day she supposedly went cliff-diving, which I told her not to, having a severe fear of heights myself.

Bella took the risk, and if it weren't for Jacob, she would most likely be dead by now. That's what Alice said she "saw" - she explained to my incapable self that, as a vampire, she had a gift, the gift of predicting the future, based on others' decisions. 

All this information was overwhelming me. I could swallow the harsh reality of wolves existing, but vampires, too? It seemed too much for me in such a short period of time.

Alice quickly explained some basics to me, like the fact that the Cullens were vegetarians, but the majority of their kind fed on human blood, as well as the fact that they even had a sort-of-government of vampires, residing in Italy, the Volturi.

She then turned to Bella to scold her about her recklessness and how she was prone to "life-threatening idiocy". I couldn't agree more with the short brunette right now. Bella has been nothing but reckless the last few weeks, and she was putting her life in danger for no reason.

They were talking about Edward or whatever, but I wasn't paying any particular attention until Jacob showed up. I decided to give them some space to talk, and Alice followed behind me, stepping out of the house.

Her face was a mix of disgust and worry, not paying any particular attention to me, probably trying to hear Bella and Jacob's conversation from the kitchen. After a minute or two, I heard her taking a sharp breath, her eyes fixating on nothing in particular; they were just staring ahead of her.

She took a sharp breath, as she regained consciousness, stepping quickly into the house. She walked in quite wide and quick strides, considering her miniature figure, and, though taller than her, I had some trouble following behind her.

She ran directly to the kitchen. "Bella. Bella, it's Edward. He thinks you're dead. Rosalie told him why I came here."

They both looked at Jacob; Bella practically screaming to his face, accusing him of not giving her the telephone to speak with Edward herself.

"Bella, he's going to the Volturi. He wants to die, too." The small brunette continued.

Within a minute, Bella made her decision: she was going to Italy to save her ex-lover. She promised us that she would just make sure he lived, and then, she would go back to her "boring" life.

Alice ran outside, starting her car immediately, as Bella was followed closely by Jacob, who tried to convince her not to go, pleading with her, all in vain. Bella was as stubborn as she could get, and nobody could change her mind. 

I turned to Jacob, without really thinking about my next words. "Don't worry. I'll go with her. I'll make sure she's back safe, okay?"

All Jacob could do is nod at me, though his face was full of concern, frustration, and he was clearly distraught by Bella's decision to leave him and save Edward. As if all this time she, Jacob and, sometimes, I spent time together meant nothing to her.

I jumped in the back seat of the car, not waiting for either Bella's, or Alice's approval. I knew it would be a huge risk for me to go to the vampires' lair, but I also knew that Bella could use all the emotional support she could get. 

As much as I hated Edward for what he did and said to her, I knew that he was everything to her, like her own little haven. Her own little oasis, which I guess felt more like a tundra, compared to Jacob's flaming hot desert. I rolled my eyes at my embarrassing thoughts, but I assumed that's how she thought of them.

The drive to the airport felt like a ton of weight crushing my shoulders. I had no place to follow them to Italy, as it was truly none of my business. But I promised Jacob, and though Bella could make me so frustrated with her lack of self-confidence and self-respect, I liked her company a lot, and I needed to make sure she was alive and safe.

In the couple of months that she came out of her apathetic state, we reconnected again, reminiscing about our unorthodox friendship, both of us being new to the town, shy and not particularly sociable.

However, Bella was the ideal friend to keep you grounded and connected with reality, which I, sometimes, had trouble with; my mind was running wild and free most of the time, while my mouth was staying shut. 

So, I was willing to go across the ocean for her, to an unknown place, in a castle full of bloodsucking vampires. I wasn't pleased, but I was willing. Willing to help her save her stupid ex-boyfriend, and hopefully not get killed in the process.

During the flights, Alice tried, more or less, to explain the dynamics of the vampire world; the Volturi, being this sort of government-slash-royalty of the vampire kind, were tasked with imposing their laws over the other vampires. Their most important law? Don't expose your existence to humans, unless you want to die. Well, there goes that! 

Alice had already talked to me about their kind; Bella knew through her association with both Edward and the rest of the Cullen family. The chances of any of us making out of there alive seemed slim to none. I was literally flying towards my death. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. Cool. 

I was trying to calm down my nerves, which did not work at all, when all I could think about were those Italian vampires. Alice told me that the vampire Kings, especially Aro, who seemed to be their leader, were interested in collecting talented vampires. 

So, it was pretty obvious that he would, most likely, get rid of Bella and myself, and would gladly keep Alice and Edward, who, as Alice told me, has the gift of reading people’s minds. So, we were actually doing that Aro guy a favor there; bring him the “talents” and get rid of the “intruders”, the humans. Great. Just, great.

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We were currently on our way to Volterra. Alice had stolen a yellow Porsche from the airport’s parking lot, which neither Bella, nor I opposed to, for now. It was a fast way to get to Volterra, plus I’ve never actually been in a Porsche, and I felt pretty amazing. Alice seemed like a skillful driver, and drove pretty fast, which I liked, especially if I was the one driving. Bella and Alice’s conversation interrupted my thoughts.

“What? What do you see?”

“They refused him.” That was good, right?

“So..?” Bella knew there was something else behind Alice’s vision.

“He’s gonna make a scene. Show himself to the humans.” Why the hell, Edward?!

“No! When?”

“He’s gonna wait until noon, when the sun’s at its highest.” Bella seemed more and more worried and anxious, and I heard her heavy breath, which seemed like she was starting to go on panic mode. I stroked her shoulders lightly, trying to calm her down. As much as she deserved to get worried, given the events that led us here, this was not the time to panic.

“There’s Volterra.” Alice pointed to her left, at a beautiful, picturesque town that looked as if it had jumped out of the Renaissance era. The scenery of Tuscany was beautiful, and it had always been part of my bucket list to travel across Tuscany in a small rental car. That was not how I pictured that trip, or how I pictured my last day on Earth.

Alice was running through the city’s narrow streets by now, never stopping to honk at people passing by, who moved left and right, trying to avoid the “crazy driver who decided it was a good idea to drive a sports car through such a city’s small, narrow, occupied streets”; at least, that’s how I saw it.

Alice did not back down, and continued driving skillfully through the city’s small arteries. It was odd though, the fact that everyone around us was wearing red capes, red clothes, everything was red. Bella questioned it out loud and Alice informed us that today was the celebration of Saint Marcus’ Day, the day that the Saint expelled all vampires from the town. The irony.

Bella was experiencing a full on panic attack, as we were only 5 minutes away from Edward’s shenanigans. Theoretically, everything was in order, until the moment we were stopped by the local police who refused to let us go any farther. Bella opened her door. She would go on foot, to find Edward before he exposed himself. Alice would park the car somewhere outside of the town’s walls, and we’d then go and find them.

I turned around my seat, to watch Bella running through the streets, to the plaza where the clock tower, which Edward was going to expose himself from, was located. Alice left the car outside of the walls, but still, close enough to have easy access. 

For me, it was quite easy to walk around now, as my skin was not sparkling like Alice’s was. Alice had to wrap herself around a coat, a long, thick scarf and gloves, and wear sunglasses to protect her identity even more. I was walking in the middle of the streets, watching around carefully, as good as my human eyes could see, trying to help Alice go unnoticed, as she pushed herself more towards the buildings’ walls, trying to avoid the sunlight. 

That went on for a while, until we were close enough to the clock tower, where Alice took my hand on hers and, with long strides, walked towards the main entrance, which was, thankfully, shaded enough for her to walk through. 

She must have heard the conversation inside the building, as the moment we stepped in - Alice breaking the lock that kept the door momentarily closed, she started talking to the others, who I mistook as being Bella and Edward. As another sign of my unluckiness in life, she was actually addressing two other vampires, a tall brunette and a shorter blond.

They both looked gorgeous, but they could probably kill me as easily as it was for me to blink. I instantly became stiff, and Alice must have felt it, but she kept on holding my hand, trying to play it cool in front of the others, while trying to get rid of her disguise with her free hand at the same time.

“Come on, guys. It’s a festival. You wouldn’t want to make a scene.” She tried to play it nice and cool, though I knew she was just as worried being here as the rest of us.

“We wouldn’t.” The brunette vampire responded, now looking at me, who, by now, I have lost all my confidence in coming to Italy to help Bella.

I caught the blond vampire looking me up and down my body, and felt rather self-conscious. I didn’t have the best relationship with my own body and my own self; I didn’t like what I saw in the mirror, most of the time. So, I made up for what I lacked in self-confidence with sarcasm, bad humor, honesty and snarky remarks. I would be really going off of him right now, if I wasn’t shaking.

Though beautiful, the blond vampire also scared me, just as much as his brunette partner. I stared back at him, looking at his confident stance, one hand behind his back, and a smirk across his face. 

When my (Y/E/C) eyes met with his red ones, I started shivering even more, holding on Alice tighter than before. I felt my heart beating faster, my breath became both sharper and deeper, and I felt as if I would cry, right then and there, in front of everyone. I saw the blond becoming a bit stiff, his jaw clenching, swallowing deeply, but he still wouldn’t take his eyes off of me.

Alice and Edward exchanged some looks, as if they knew what was happening, but chose to not tell anyone else. The scene in front of me was interrupted by the clicks of heeled shoes, and a blonde girl came into our view. 

“Enough.” Her voice was stern, and her stance was stoic as she came closer to us.

“Jane.” Edward recognised her and lowered his head towards the ground. He didn’t seem scared before, when it was just the two vampires in front of us, but the small woman now seemed to have him terrified.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long.” She looked between the two vampires of her coven, as if she was criticizing them for their incompetence to bring us all before Aro. Then, she turned to us, looking us straight in our eyes, or rather our souls, probably to warn and scare us at the same time, before walking back to where she came from. 

Alice turned towards Bella and I, the only humans there, who clearly looked more terrified than she and Edward did. “Just do as she says.” She simply said and we followed behind the girl, with the other two vampires closely behind us. 

The blond one was so close to me, I could feel the coldness radiating off his body, making me shiver. The brunette gave Edward the red robe I didn’t notice he was holding before, probably to cover himself in front of the Kings. The blonde girl moved between Bella and Edward, and Alice and I. Edward was trying to comfort Bella but I couldn’t exactly make out what they were saying, my mind making all shorts of scenarios about how the vampires would kill me and the others. The more I thought about it, the more I was shriveling on Alice’s side. 

We reached an elevator - I never thought vampires used elevators, but maybe it was for the humans around? The brunette and the blond entered first, as the blond turned around to stare at us, turning his gaze at me afterwards, before fully stepping in. Then, it was time for Edward and Bella to get in, followed by Alice and I. The blonde girl stepped in last, before the elevator’s doors closed shut.

The elevator music, an operetta, was supposed to calm peoples’ nerves. Yet, in this tight box, it had the opposite effect. Surrounded by vampires, vegetarian and non, the music was just creeping me out. 

The fact that the blond vampire was merely two inches away from me was making my knees weak and my heart pounding, though I, myself, didn’t even know if my own body was reacting out of fear or attraction towards the blond vampire. I felt him leaning closer to me and barely heard him sniff around, but I clearly saw Alice turning her head around and giving him death stares, to which he retrieved back to his original position.

The elevator stopped and we all stepped out. We walked past a receptionist’s desk, the woman standing up, smiling and wishing us a good afternoon - based on the few Italian that I knew. From what Bella and Edward said, the receptionist was a human, wishing to become a vampire, like the others.

“And so she will be.” Demetri smirked, looking at me, who I still haven't abandoned Alice’s hand.

“Or dessert.” Jane interrupted, and I felt myself losing consciousness for a split second, before I felt the blond vampire grabbing my arm to stabilize me. His hand was cold and his grip tight on me, not leaving me even after I looked at him with wide eyes. He just smiled and continued walking ahead.

Jane opened the doors in front of her, leading us to a massive room, made out of marble, and decorated with Roman columns and scriptures on the walls. Surprisingly, it was well-lit and bright, compared to the dark halls that we passed through just a minute ago.

“Sister. Send you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves. Such a clever girl.” A brunette boy, a bit taller than Jane, called towards her, as she walked by his side.

The blond vampire let me go and walk farther into the room, still holding Alice’s hand like I was holding on her for dear life. The blond vampire now stood a few feet behind us, next to the tall brunette one.

A black-haired vampire, who seemed a bit too excited, started walking towards us. “What a happy surprise! Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful. I love a happy ending. They are so rare.” He was talking with fake happiness in his face, as if he was reading from a script, grabbing Edward’s hand in the process.

“La tua cantante.” Your singer. The vampire seemed to know how much Edward craved Bella’s blood, and questioned how Edward could do so easily. 

“Aro can read every thought I’ve ever had with one touch.” Well, that explained a lot. And now I placed who Aro was within the Volturi.

I now learned more about Edward’s gift, which was more similar to Aro’s than anyone else’s, but he couldn’t actually read Bella’s thoughts. Aro requested if he could test his own gift on Bella, probably hoping that he could read her thoughts and brag about it. But when Bella offered her hand, which he took too willingly, his face was unreadable and then, disappointed and angry, not being able to read her either.

Then, he turned towards me, still by Alice’s side. His red eyes were cold and hostile, and his face uninviting. I felt small and vulnerable, exposed, in front of his critical gaze.

“Dear (Y/N), excuse me for the waiting. Edward has presented me a very..intriguing image of you. Could you offer me your hand? I would like to get to know you, as well.”

My lips were trembling, not being able to say a word, and my eyes were glistening. Please, don’t cry. Please, don’t cry. I knew that whatever Edward had shown him I couldn’t avoid. So, I took a step forward, leaving Alice’s hand and extending the other one towards Aro. I felt a breeze behind me, as Demetri came to stand on my right side, looking closely between Aro and I.

The mind reader took my hand between his hands, and I felt my thoughts being examined and tossed around my head, like a small whisper trying to cast a spell on me. The vampire looked at me, deep in the eyes, and his face was filled with fascination for whatever he saw inside my head.

“Fascinating, indeed, dear. Your mind is just filled with thoughts and images, though they are not very distinct. You are not an easy book to read. I still haven’t figured out who you really are. Although…”. He looked at the vampire standing beside me, motioning for him to give him his hand.

The blond obeyed his master. Did he have any other choice? Probably not. Aro took the blond’s hand, and his wicked, sick smile came back.

“Oh, this suddenly became even better than I would have expected.” He turned towards the vampire sitting on the throne, looking sad. Marcus? The vampire in question nodded, and Aro turned around in an almost theatrical move, with open arms, for everyone to see. 

“It seems that our dear Demetri has finally found his mate in (Y/N). I’m so happy for the two of you!” His face was smiling, but his voice sounded as fake as ever. 

I didn’t know what “mates” meant. Alice didn’t have enough time to explain every “vampire term” to me, so I was clueless regarding this part. The blond, who I now knew as Demetri, must have seen the confusion in my face, as he leaned slightly towards me and whispered “Soulmates” in my ear. My eyes widened and he giggled lightly.

Whether it was how close he came near me, or his giggle, or the fact that we were “soulmates”, my heart responded immediately, thumbing faster in my chest, and I felt my cheeks burn - I was clearly blushing in front of everyone, as if I couldn’t be any more awkward than I was before.

Aro interrupted my embarrassment, as he turned once again towards Bella, wanting to test if she was immune to the others’ gifts as well. He turned towards the blonde girl, Jane, asking her basically to show off her own gift. Edward ran forward to stop whatever it was going to happen, only to end up in pain, writhing in an inaudible pain, as Bella was practically screaming to stop.

I honestly didn’t mind Edward suffering, even if it was for a few seconds, considering that Bella had it worse for over 5 months. He finally dropped to the floor, as Alice ran to his side, and the blonde girl’s brother ran to grab Bella, to stop her from going by her lover’s side.

I had no idea what was happening. I was just looking around, shocked and scared, as all these unfamiliar things were taking place in front of my untrained eyes. I felt a hand stroking my arm up and down. I turned around to see Demetri smiling slightly at me, trying to calm me down. I sighed a bit and felt my heart slightly at ease.

That was until the Kings decided that Bella was a liability - I wasn’t? - and Aro called out for Felix. I turned around and saw the tall brunette smiling evilly, while the shorter brunette turned Bella around and left her there, exposed, in front of the giant. Edward seemed to know what it would be happening, as he immediately stood up and ran by Bella’s side to protect her.

He immediately ran forward, attacking the tall brunette, and knocking him down. Alice ran towards Edward to help him out, but she was immediately stopped by Demetri, who I didn’t notice had left my side, grabbing her by her neck and immobilizing her, dragging her away from ever reaching her brother. 

“Alec!” Demetri shouted towards the brunette boy, who had just left Bella at Felix’s mercy, pointing towards me with his eyes. The boy, Alec, came by my side, and practically dragged me farther from the scene that took place in front of me. His grip was a bit too much as he squeezed my arm, making me slightly cry in pain. Demetri growled at him, and Alec’s grip loosened significantly, but he still kept his hand on my arm.

Felix was pissed by now, as he immediately started fighting Edward, pushing and slamming him around the room. However, I couldn’t focus my gaze on them; not because they were fast, but because I was focused on watching Demetri, and how he was still holding on Alice’s neck tightly, never letting her go.

Watching Demetri’s hand around Alice’s neck should have made me feel appalled and sorry for the small brunette girl, but it didn’t. On the contrary, I felt rather aroused, watching his strong hand wrapped around the brunette’s neck. 

Honestly, I felt a wave of jealousy and annoyance hitting me. That should have been me! Only I was worthy to be touched by this sort of demon who masked his true identity with the facade of an angel. It should be me! I couldn’t help myself, my jealousy building up inside me. 

“Wish he’d choke ME!” I told myself, getting more frustrated by the minute.

“Patience, cara mia. All in due time.” Demetri smirked at me. I did not realise I said that out loud, until Alec started snorting beside me, clearly laughing cheekily, and Felix started bursting in laughter, his grip tight on Edward’s jaw by now.

I had embarrassed myself in a room full of vampires once again, the majority of them being part of the Volturi coven. If the Earth opened in half and swallowed me, I would pretty much welcome it at that point.

Bella brought me back to reality, as she was practically screaming, begging the vampires to let go of Edward, as she looked clearly distraught and upset. She even offered herself instead of Edward! Why, Bella? Just why? I have understood by now that they were mates and they’d do anything for each other, but she would sacrifice her own life for Edward?! That didn’t make sense to me.

Aro seemed to agree with me, but he thought more of the “soulless monster” perspective, while I thought more of Edward’s character, and how much his absence had scarred Bella. Alice told me, on our way here, that he thought he was doing everything to keep her away just to protect her, that being close to him put her in danger. But, from my own experience with Bella, she was suffering more away from him than he thought she would.

Aro looked disappointed between Edward and Bella, wishing he would give her immortality, which he did not seem willing to do. Aro moved menacingly towards the terrified girl, prepared to end her life. I fell forwards, attempting to reach her, to move in between them, but Alec’s grip tightened, keeping me back, both of his hands on my arms now. Aro was basically licking his lips, when, suddenly, Alice stopped him. 

The small brunette confirmed that Bella would become a vampire like them, and that she would even be the one to change her, as she saw in her vision. Aro called her forward, and Demetri let her walk towards his Master. 

He then moved towards Alec and I, replacing the brunette boy, but, instead of grabbing my arms like Alec did, he embraced me tightly, not letting me move away from my position. His cold embrace sent shivers down my spine, but, surprisingly, I let myself relax in his arms, feeling safe, and like that was where I belonged. I felt him smiling and relaxing, as well.

Aro seemed pleased with whatever Alice had shown him, and intrigued by her own gift of predicting the future. Alice had told me that her gift was subjected to the decisions people made, and the future could just change at any point. However, if Aro believed that her vision would eventually come true, we had no reason to tell him otherwise. 

Aro turned to Bella. “Your gifts will make for an intriguing immortal.” He whispered as he touched her face, Bella clearly feeling uncomfortable under his touch. I would, too - Aro seemed creepy in his own way, his behavior and movements just as unpredictable.

He then told us to leave, and prepare for Bella’s transformation, and Felix let go of Edward. Marcus told everyone that a woman named Heidi would be coming soon and thanked us “for the visit”, as Aro said his goodbyes. Demetri walked towards the exit, me still in his arms. Edward grabbed Bella by her hand and Alice followed them behind.

As we were walking through the corridor, a beautiful woman walked past us, many people - they looked like tourists - following behind her. She had long, wavy brown hair and purple eyes, which could only mean that she was most likely wearing blue contacts over her red eyes. Her aura was full of confidence and power; she knew what she was doing and she took her job seriously.

“Nice fishing, Heidi.” I heard Demetri addressing the woman from behind me. So, that was the Heidi Marcus was referring to. Wait.. Nice..what?

“Yes, they do look rather juicy.” The beautiful woman replied, eyeing between Bella and I, as she continued leading the tourists down the hallway.

Demetri must have seen her reaction, as he brought me closer to him. I was in shock, and started trembling more than before. These people, these poor people would be the vampires’ snacks in a few seconds. Like Bella and I could have been just minutes ago. I tried to not think about it, but the screams that echoed through the hall would probably haunt me for the rest of my life.

Demetri opened another door as we approached the end of the corridor, and we found ourselves back in the reception area. The Italian woman greeted us once again, but I didn’t listen to what she said, still in shock, just waiting to leave this horrible place as soon as I could.

“Just wait here. You will be able to leave in a few hours, when it’s dark outside.” Demetri instructed Edward and Alice, and took his arms away from my body, turning to look at me. “Wait here, cara mia. I’ll be back soon.” I nodded, not being able to say a word.

Demetri turned and ran towards the throne room. I knew he left to feed, and I just couldn’t bear the thought of him killing innocent humans. I couldn’t keep myself from crying, as I started trembling and losing balance. 

Alice came by my side, trying to stabilize and calm me down, while Edward tried calming down a hyperventilating Bella. We were both losing our sanity, not being able to keep up with the Volturi’s lifestyle, as it seemed. I was craving Demetri’s touch but, at the same time, I couldn’t stop the human in me, the logic, the sense that said that I should stay away from the vampires who killed people. 

I heard Alice and Edward talking with the receptionist, but I couldn’t make out exactly what they were talking about. Alice, slowly and carefully, with her hands still on my arms, led me to a nearby bench, as the receptionist walked away. I was rocking back and forth, trying to calm down, realizing that we are still alive. I saw the receptionist coming towards us, offering a glass of water to both Bella and I.

“Grazie mille.” I thanked her, my voice barely audible.

“Prego.” She smiled at me, and walked back towards her desk.

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I didn’t realise how much time passed, until I heard footsteps coming towards us. I was way more calm by now. Lifting my head towards the direction of the footsteps, I saw Demetri and Felix. I shyly smiled at Demetri, and he smiled back, with a smile wider than mine, a smile that warmed my heart.

“Hello, again, amore mio.” I felt as if my heart stopped for a split second upon hearing the words he used to address me. I would still be weak to my knees, if I didn't already sit down.

Felix was the one to inform us that we were allowed to go now, being way past nighttime. I stood up, and attempted to walk forward, towards Bella and the two Cullen siblings. I intended to leave with them, but I was stopped by Demetri’s hand on my wrist.

“Where are you going, cara?” He looked at me, knowing why I was attempting to walk away.

“I.. I thought we’d.. be leaving? That I’d be leaving? With the others?” At least, I was hoping I would be leaving with them. 

“I’m sorry, amore. I can’t let you go, not now that I found you. You’ll be staying here, with me.” Demetri sounded so natural and serious, and I could only stare at him, my mouth agape.

“But.. I thought it was okay for me to leave. I have a life behind, you know. I have a school to finish, I have my family, I have things to do.” I still looked at him dumbfounded, waiting for him to allow me to go, just for now, just for a few months at least.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). But I cannot risk anything happening to you. I will make sure you are safe and protected here. We will arrange everything with your school and your family, and whatever else is needed. Please, stay.” Demetri’s eyes were pleading, and a shiver passed through my body, just by looking at him and hearing him talk.

It took me a few minutes to respond; nobody said a word all this time. “Okay.” I said faintly. “I will stay.. here.. with you.”

Demetri’s face lit up, and he leaned closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. He was careful to not hurt me, and I knew, at the moment, with my heart full of love and affection for that man, that that was where I was supposed to be. With Demetri. For as long as it lasted.  

[oddaodd]

· Slip Of The Tongue·

Summary: The reader and Cillian have been friends for a long time and one day an incriminatory slip of the tongue while shooting a scene makes the reader feel she ought to explain herself.

Author’s Note: Ahhh this is my first and probably last time writing for Cillian. I had this idea in the back of my mind and one day I told myself to just write it so yeah, here it is. I feel weird posting it though, because he is a real person and has a family so for everybody’s sake, let’s pretend this happens in an alternate universe where he isn’t married.  Having said that I hope you enjoy it and have the loveliest of days ❤️

Warnings: mention of alcohol and suggestive themes, nothing graphic though.

·

She felt the dreadful familiar feeling of her cheeks turning bright red as soon as she said it and she felt immediately thankful for the low lighting the scene they were filming contained.

She couldn’t stop it from slipping through her lips as she sat there, straddling his lap letting his hands roam her body as his lips attacked her own in an intense rhythm that matched the one of her body rocking against his.

She had always been able to contain it and leave her thoughts of him outside each scene they filmed together, but for some reason she couldn’t do just that that day. His breath fanning on her neck and the spark that his touch ignited under her skin had made her say it. Quite low but quite clear against his lips.

“Cillian”

Embarrassment filled her every vein as he parted from her lips and looked at her with a look she had never seen painted on his face before. An expression along the lines of shock and intrigue with a hint of soft realization.

She wondered if she should just keep going, maybe nobody else had noticed it but her hopes were quashed when the director shouted “cut”.

Her lips parted not knowing quite well what to say and she felt as though hours had passed while she stared at Cillian in puzzlement until the director’s booming voice sounded again, bringing her back to reality.

“Y/n, do you need to take a break? Come on, we need you to focus”

“No, no I’m fine, sorry” she apologized ashamed still in the same scripted position.

“We can go again” she said looking at Cillian’s face to see if he was ok with going again to which he nodded.

“Yeah, we are good”

“Just what I wanted to hear” yelled the director enthusiastically before shouting “action” again.

Cillian’s lips were on hers again and again she felt intoxicated by his touch, but she tried with all her might to not think of him and his hands holding her tight against him. It wasn’t him, it was just acting, but still her heart was beating loudly and her mind was racing with fast thoughts that she managed to mask perfectly as she performed for the cameras.

Soon the director was shouting cut again followed by a short “That was perfect”

Y/n removed herself from Cillian and awkwardly composed herself. She wanted to apologize, but the staff was already leading her to a different set before she managed to compose her words.

She didn’t have any more scenes with him for the day which she felt thankful for. She had never before felt awkward around him, in fact they always got along great and after having starred in several projects together one could even say they were great friends. Y/n couldn’t help but wonder if she had messed everything up with her stupid slip of the tongue.

After she was done for the day she looked around for his characteristic blue eyes, but didn’t find him and after inquiring with the directors assistant, she found out he had left for a different scene in a different location.

Still feeling embarrassed she headed for the tiny apartment she was renting in the city while shooting for the film. As she walked she felt attacked by her her of the past when she recollected that the day prior she had invited Cillian over for dinner since she had always hated eating alone. What the day before had been excitement when he said “yes” turned into dread.

“Who knows after today” she told herself half reassuringly and half sadly as she opened the door and finally stepped inside.

She went straight to the living room and plopped down into one of the couches. Gloomily she browsed through her Spotify playlists in search for a comforting tune.

Once she found one, the Bluetooth speakers began sounding softly and she got up to go and remove her makeup.

She jumped slightly at the sound of knocking on the front door brought her back to reality and with slow steps she went to open it already knowing who it was that was calling her.

“Hi” She tried to smile.

“Hi” Cillian stood on the doorstep a wine bottle in hand and a relaxed and somehow tired expression on his face.

“I looked for you after filming but I couldn’t find you anywhere so I just came home ” she rambled ashamed as she wrung her hands together.

“May I come in?” He asked with a tender expression

“Yeah ” she said mentally slapping herself for not having invited him in the moment she opened the door.  She then stepped aside so he could come inside and taking the bottle from his hands she made her way to the kitchen to pour two glasses. He followed her and stopped a few steps behind her her as she took out the cork opener.

With shaky hands testament of her nervousness, she fumbled as she tried to open the bottle before his voice interrupted her.  

“Let me” he said, gently taking the metal object from her hands and opening the bottle with unpracticed ease before pouring the glasses.

“ I’m sorry” she said looking at him as he poured, she couldn’t keep holding onto her apology any longer “I don’t know what happened today, I don’t want things to turn weird between us and ...” she looked down at her hands, she hadn’t realized how emotional her mistake had made her feel until she felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

He walked over to her when he noticed “Hey, it’s fine Y/n”

“I just feel so embarrassed, it was so unprofessional” She said still refusing to meet his eyes

“Don’t be” he said tenderly taking her hands in his, finally making her look up at him.

“I liked hearing my name coming from your lips like that” He confessed in soft cheekiness as he caressed her cheek, his eyes traveling from her eyes to her lips as he inched closer to her.  

Wearily, she too inched closer to him allowing him to kiss her All her wariness left her body as soon as she felt his lips on hers, melting into his kiss. Their lips danced together to a different intensity from the one of their on screen kisses, more real and personal and intimate. Her hands went to twirl through his hair as he hoisted her up on the counter.

“I forgot to buy dinner” she mumbled against his lips as his hands began roaming her body.

“I’m good with ordering pizza” he chuckled at her sudden realization

“Pizza will be then” she whispered a little breathlessly before succumbing to his lips again.

·

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @peakyxtommy @nyotamalfoy @writeroutoftime @babylooneytoonz

[delicioussshame]

In the never ending series of “things that aren’t wips because I can’t, I have to finish something before starting something else”, have this thing I posted as a wip before, featuring a version of PIDW where LBH collected his harem... differently, with guest star NYY.

Luo Binghe immediately recognises the man dressed in cultivator garb as Yingying’s shizun.

Beautiful and serene, she said. The perfect image of an untouchable immortal, dressed in white and pale greens. Always holding a fan of exquisite manufacture.

But more than her vivid descriptions of her shizun’s loveliness, he remembers what she said next.

She’d been lying on her side, her long cascading hair not managing to hide her luscious curves.

Luo Binghe had known she wouldn’t be ready for another round just yet, and so had been pleased to listen to her lighthearted pillow talk.

Today’s topic had been her exasperation with her shizun’s lack of sex life.

“Sometimes I can’t believe how obtuse he is. Liu-shishu has been courting him for years, and I don’t think he ever noticed. And don’t get me started on the sect master! All Shizun would have to do is bat his eyelashes and the sect master would drop everything to worship him! But no, he never takes him on it. For a while I thought maybe Shizun just preferred women, but more than one female disciple has tried her hand at him, all to no avail.”

Luo Binghe could imagine the type. Cultivators could be lofty. They think they’re above the needs of the flesh.

He always enjoys teaching them how wrong they are.

If the demonic part of his heritage revels in desecrating those pompous righteous cultivators, no one else could tell. Luo Binghe was too good at his chosen hobby to let his personal feelings interfere.

“I love and respect Shizun more than anyone. Without him, I would never have become the kind of cultivator who can afford A-Luo’s company. So I am motivated by filial piety and nothing else when I say that I have never met anyone who needs to get laid more than Shen Qingqiu.”

Luo Binghe had laughed. “Oh? Is Yingying going to replace me with her old teacher?”

Her scandalised look had sent him into another bout of laughter. “A-Luo! I would never!”

“Then why is she telling me this? Does she want me to take care of him?”

Ning Yingying had stared at him, a glint in her eyes. Luo Binghe could see the plans form in her head as she spoke. “Actually, that wouldn’t be a bad idea. It would do wonders for Shizun, and I know A-Luo loves breaking people like him.”

Luo Binghe had blinked, inwardly caught off-guard. He wasn’t blind. He knew Ning Yingying was a lot more observant than she appeared. It wasn’t the first time she had made that kind of comment. “Yingying knows me so well. Should I be worried?”

She had swapped at him. He could have easily evaded the blow, but he didn’t bother. “A-Luo doesn’t have anything to fear from me. But honestly, if I sent Shizun your way, would you take care of him? I really think he could benefit from it. And Shizun is very beautiful! Many will definitely be jealous if they ever find out.”

Luo Binghe had nothing against the idea of taking a peak lord to bed. He bet Xin Mo would love to feed on such high-quality cultivation. “I would be honored to entertain your teacher.”

He could tell from the way she had brightened he was about to be thoroughly thanked.

She had paid him too, both for herself and for her shizun’s future visit. Generously enough that Luo Binghe had wondered if he should praise her filial piety to her shizun.

She didn’t lie either. Shen Qingqiu really is exquisite.

Not as handsome as Luo Binghe himself, but nobody is. “You must be Shen Qingqiu.”

“Luo Binghe, I presume.” Luo Binghe cannot quite decipher the look he’s being given, which is rare enough to catch his attention. He’s pretty certain there’s some attraction there, but the rest? Trepidation? Outright fear? Disdain? Excitement?

He’s sure he’s going to find out. He gestures for Shen Qingqiu to sit down as he moves to prepare tea. He could have one of his servants handle it, but Luo Binghe has always preferred taking care of things himself. That personal touch has seduced more than one client, if they didn’t visit him only for his food.

Shen Qingqiu drinks the offered tea in silence before he starts talking. “If you would please tell me your fee, I will be refunding Ning Yingying a corresponding amount. I am sorry for wasting your time, but I have no interest in procuring your services.”

Ooh, that’s cute. If Luo Binghe wasn’t an expert at perceiving the signs of physical attraction, he might even believe him. Shen Qingqiu is interested, he’s sure of it. He’s just a prude, like Yingying said. “Yingying won’t accept it. Why refuse her most thoughtful gift?”

“My disciple should put her money to better uses.”

“I assure you, employing me is money well spent. You could find that out yourself.”

Luo Binghe bites back his amusement as the man stumbles, obviously embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to imply you weren’t… a credit to your profession. Please don’t take it personally. As I said, I have no interest in finding out myself.”

“But how will it look if you were to leave without finding out? My reputation will be hurt.”

“How could something this insignificant hurt the reputation of such a famous courtesan?”

Luo Binghe grins. “So even renowned cultivators have heard of me? Nothing bad, I hope?” And where did an isolated scholar like him caught wind of such lowbrow rumours, huh?

The sigh he’s answered with does not cloak a hint of amusement. “How many of the sect’s disciples have you seduced? You even managed to steal away Liu-shidi’s little sister, whose beauty and virtu are known across the land. Of course I have heard of you. More than I would have liked, if I am allowed to be honest.”

Ah. He should probably have expected that. Cang Qiong is full of eager young men and women. Apparently, Shen Qingqiu isn’t such a recluse that gossip doesn’t reach him. “I see. Still, you must have heard good things, or you wouldn’t have come into my parlour.”

Red is a good look on the man. Luo Binghe feels the first stirrings of desire rise into him. He just knows Shen Qingqiu would be stunning, lying despoiled on those formerly pristine robes, trying to discover what he’s begging for more of.

Not to mention he can almost hear Xin Mo purr. What a feast Shen Qingqiu will be.

Time to press on.

Luo Binghe reaches for the now empty cup of tea he’s certain Shen Qingqiu drained without tasting, making sure to caress the fingers still holding it with a touch just light enough to possibly be accidental, if one were very dumb or very blind. “Let me serve you again,” he says as he pours more tea with deliberate grace.

Instead, Shen Qingqiu rises from the table. “Don’t bother! I am obviously wasting your valuable time. If you won’t share with me how much Ning Yingying paid you, I will compensate her otherwise.”

Like Luo Binghe is letting him leave like this. “Would you have me waste the tea already prepared?”

“Drink it yourself! Surely it’s nothing compared to your usual breaches of propriety.”

Damn it. Luo Binghe miscalculated. Shen Qingqiu is too spooked to be open to further advances. Really, what a prude, to be so destabilised by a simple brush of hands.

If he can take a step back and defuse the tension enough for him not to leave… “You seem in such a hurry. Do you think I force myself on my visitors? I’m hurt.” As if he ever needed to use force to have someone.

Well, never without their consent, at least.

Shen Qingqiu doesn’t seem like he’d be into that, but then again, people can surprise you.

“I’m not scared! I just have no reason to be here any longer. Thank you for your time. I’ll be leaving my student in your care.” For a moment, there’s a glower in his eyes that Luo Binghe wouldn’t mind seeing more of. “Be good to her, or my next visit will be far less pleasant.”

Aww. Shen Qingqiu cares! How cute. “So I have to get a bit rough if I want to see you again?”

His outraged face almost makes him laugh. “Don’t you dare!”

“Or are you looking for an excuse for our paths to cross again? I assure you it’s unnecessary. I’d welcome you anytime.”

“I will keep that in mind,” says Shen Qingqiu absentmindedly, already crossing the door.

Luo Binghe lets him leave. Obviously, this will be going nowhere today.

Really, he’s offended. He cannot remember someone rejecting him so blatantly, ever. Worse, Xin Mo will be cranky. A treat was dangled in its metaphorical face, and then was cruelly taken away before it could have a taste.

He can’t let this humiliation stand.

He won’t have to. The delicate fan Shen Qingqiu came with, red spider lilies on a stark white background, is still on the table, forgotten in his haste to leave.

Luo Binghe’s customer service is impeccable. He’ll be returning the abandoned item himself.

It’s not like finding the peak lord of Qing Jing will be a challenge.

[butterflyinthewell]

To trans folks who are trying to set trolls straight about Chris-Chan’s gender: Your hearts are in the right place, but the trolls do not care. They will keep misgendering Chris to piss you off and screenshot your reaction.

Yes, I’m talking about THE Chris-Chan. CWC, creator of Sonichu.

(TW: this post will mention rape and incest.)

I know, I know… “But if we let people misgender Chris, what’s stopping them from doing it to other trans people?”

Nothing.

There’s nothing you can do, unfortunately. The thing with trolls is they aren’t here to learn, they’re here to frustrate, annoy and anger you. They throw out all kinds of little hooks by saying offensive things, or things that trick you, and it’s all a game to them when somebody bites the bait.

It wouldn’t surprise me if trolls are saying horrible things about autism, too. That’s more my lane and partly why I don’t dig too deep in the tags about this situation. Again, I stress not engaging with that to correct trolls. They don’t care, they want to offend you.

As frustrating as it is, take note of the people who use Chris’ current pronouns and recognize that there are people who make an effort to get them right. I’m sure the trans people reading what you say will see that and know you care to gender them correctly.

It’s possible Chris transitioned believing she can get with lesbians. It’s entirely possible she’s exactly the stereotype that TERFs rant about and her shitty behavior might be used in the future to argue their views. TERFs will be TERFs. Some of Chris’ trolls may be trans themselves.

As it stands, Chris presents as a woman, so I’ll use she/her pronouns unless she decides to present as non-binary or a man again. You’re welcome to do the same when talking about her. Don’t waste your time trying to correct trolls, just use Chris’ current pronouns and leave it at that.

It sucks, but that’s how trolls troll.

Moving on…

I wonder if Chris would’ve been a weird, harmless nobody if Mimms never took her photo in The Game Place.

This all started because her photo was taken without her knowledge or consent and posted on a forum, which ended up spreading to the wider web and…yeah.

Would she have been an internet sensation? Would she have transitioned? Would she be a known name on the web?

Maybe everything would’ve gone down the same, but without an audience to bear witness.

Regardless, Chris is a trainwreck of a person. I don’t say that lightly. She didn’t deserve the trolling and abuse she got, yet she isn’t innocent in this either.

I felt sorry for her at first because I’m autistic too and was bullied severely in high school, some of it included physical assault and attempted murder. I reacted to the constant name calling and mockery irl a lot like Chris reacted to her online trolls. I’m thankful that my most volatile years happened before I had internet access. I’m two years older than Chris. I had my own drama with trolls that lasted a few years, but I grew up a bit more.

But I digress…

Chris didn’t get the internet safety talk that I got before getting let loose online, and people took advantage of her gullibility, her autism, whatever mental illnesses she might have and her obsession with getting laid. She ignored warnings to the contrary and in some instances her mom enabled her while her dad tried (and failed) to reign her in.

At the same time, Chris has a history of being racist, ableist, homophobic and misogynistic. She ignores people’s boundaries even when they were clearly stated. She’s entitled and thinks everything bad is a conspiracy against her. She acts like the world operates on cartoon rules and can’t handle it when situations don’t turn out in her favor like she believes they should. It’s a strange view of “Anything I do is good because I did it, and anybody who tells me it’s bad or treats me badly is evil or a troll.”

How she comes across to others and how she thinks she comes across are incongruent with each other, and she refuses to take any correction. An example is the claw hand she used to do while railing at trolls. It’s clear she’s imitating stuff she saw in cartoons, but doesn’t grasp that it looks silly in real life. It leaves me wondering if she ever watched her videos back to see how she really looks before uploading them.

Chris did a lot of disgusting things of her own volition, like not leaving people alone, uploading that sexual drawing featuring Megan, using pepper spray without provocation and trying to hit someone with her car.

Trolls tricked her into humiliating herself and shared the results, like hacking into her email, sharing chats where she gave out embarrassing details about herself, prank calling her house and posting the infamous blowup doll video.

If you know “Christory”, you know what I’m talking about.

If you don’t know, it’s something that’s gone on longer than some people have been alive.

No side is innocent here. I don’t blame Chris for attracting trolls, they chose to go and harass her because she jumped when they poked her.

I’ve followed Chris’ story off and on since 2008, back when she was making her Sonichu comics and being awkward. I never participated in trolling her. I’ve only ever seen the aftermath of troll operations, but the things she endured were cruel. (The Miyamoto saga and the BlueSpike saga come to mind.) I looked her up to see if she was alive and okay. I sent her my AFBV message a couple years ago, but never got a response.

I wonder if this could’ve been avoided if Chris never got trolled and was supervised better while online. That’s where her parents failed her. I felt bad for her; she didn’t know how to conduct herself and kept falling for trolling schemes because she was so desperate to get a girlfriend. It’s like she ignored that little gut warning that says “hey, this feels like a trick” and it was like watching someone fall down the same hillside over and over.

But after what she did to her mom, I lost any sympathy I had for her. Yes, trolls have traumatized her and messed with her head for over a decade and that’s gross, but what she did to her mom was unconscionable. It’s indefensible. It’s morally abhorrent.

She had sex with (or possibly raped via coercion) her elderly mom, who may have dementia.

Chris’ autism was taken advantage of for years, and now she might’ve taken advantage of her mom’s dementia to harm her for the past month.

Think about that. There is no defending that. She finally did something she can’t just wave away or pay her way out of.

Trolls didn’t put Chris up to that, she did it all by herself.

Now she’s under arrest.

Time and again Chris has had run-ins with the law and got away with slaps on the wrist, but I don’t think she’s going to walk away from this so easily.

I hope this situation finally gets Chris the help she desperately needs. I don’t know if her dimensional merge stuff is a delusion from undiagnosed and untreated mental illness or if it’s a paracosm she’s chosen to live in and act out because she can’t handle how cruel the real world is. Please note that I don’t say mental illness lightly either, because I’m aware of the stigma.

At this point I think she needs a caregiver who will supervise her online activities and help her manage her finances. (She will likely resist this…)

Chris’ autism and whatever else she has going on appears to make it very difficult for her to see things from any perspective besides her own. I’m autistic too, so I understand this— sometimes I get this way and have to walk myself back to see other perspectives, or I ask people to give me their side of it to help me understand how they see it even if I don’t agree with their view.

Chris needed more guidance and reality checks growing up, but didn’t get them, and now she needs both more than ever as she faces the results of her behavior. If she is delusional, she needs help to navigate it and I hope she can do that away from trolls. She needs to face consequences for (possibly) raping someone.

I wonder what the legal system will do with her, and I hate that her life has come to this. It was so avoidable. 😞

Sorry, Chris…I hope you’ll get help now, and I hope Barb is okay.

[janetbrown711]

Princess Angelina II was never fond of being told what to do.

Ever since she was a little girl, she loved being defiant. However, her parents were strict and had their ways of forcing her to do things anyway, so she adapted. If her parents wanted her to study? Fine, then she would read every book in the library and become far more intelligent than most of her teachers and would “smart ass” them constantly. Of course, her parents disapproved, but Angelina knew they technically couldn’t punish her this way, as she was doing what they asked after all. Still, she was aware that she was treading on thin ice, but she continued anyway, as it felt like the only thing keeping her sane. 

It was this mentality she carried with her during her least favorite activity of all: 

Meeting Suitors. 

The moment Angelina turned 16, her mother began arranging meeting after meeting with different princes and noblemen, all of which she hated. They were always so prideful and stuffy, they never had a sense of joy or humor in them. So, as was natural for her, she never refused to see them, but while they talked she’d always attack their pride and make sure they never wanted to see her again. She had hoped her actions would’ve given her a reputation as an “ineligible princess” but alas, rumors of her beauty and singing kept them coming. 

And so today Angelina found herself preparing yet again to meet with another boring suitor, this time a prince who was soon coming of age and was to rule the neighboring kingdom fo Ticktockia. Angelina spent several weeks reading up on the history of the country, as well as learning their customs, and knew she was ready by the time he arrived. 

“I don’t want you to play any funny games this time, Angelina. Ticktockia is a very important ally, and I don’t want you embarrassing my good name,” her mother, Queen Angelina Contessa Louisa Francesca Banana Fanna Bo Besca I, was quick to remind her right before the doors of the throne room were to open. Angelina wanted to roll her eyes, but didn’t have the energy or the time, as the doors were opened, and the prince entered. 

The prince of Ticktockia was a human, which she had expected. He was a particularly... interesting piece of work. He was growing a mustache, but he was very bad at it, and so it looked wispy and gross. his fashion sense was something else entirely, and he wore a giant clock on his chest, which Angelina recalled as the symbol of Ticktockia (as it was the meaning behind their name). 

“Hello,” He greeted her, but didn’t bow. Angelina rolled her eyes internally and curtsied. 

“Pleasure to meet you, sir,” She said. He only nodded in response. 

This was gonna be fun.

“Well, off you two go then,” Angelina the First waved the pair off, and Salazar held his arm out and Angelina took it, and they went off into the halls of the castle. 

“So... Prince... Salad bar is it?” Angelina asked. 

“Salazar,” He corrected, snappy. Angelina smirked. 

“Right, right, right, my apologies,” She said. “So... where are you from again?”

“Ticktockia, one of Warnerstock’s most important allies..? Surely you’ve heard of us,” He said, annoyed. 

“Not really, no,” She shrugged, removing her arm from his. 

“Oh please, we’ve made all of your clocks,” He pointed out. 

“Oh, those old things? They break every other week, we honestly should replace them all,” She lamented, internally pleased when she saw his anger rise and saw him desperately try to hide it. 

“Well then,” he huffed. “Perhaps I shouldn’t blame you, you are just a woman after all. I shouldn’t expect you to know the history of such an important country.” 

Oh he did not. 

“I can assure you Salazar, I know more of Ticktockia’s history than you do,” she warned. He smirked. 

“Sure you do,” He said. 

“Who was the 17th king?” She quizzed. Salazar paused to think. 

“King... Edmund?” He asked. Angelina shook her head. 

“King Raymond the Beloved. He helped create an era of peace in the land and helped create new trade routes for kingdoms all across the lands,” Angelina said. 

“Everyone knows King Raymond. I was simply... pretending not to know,” He so obviously lied. 

“Alright... who was the 20th king?” She asked. Salazar thought once more, stroking his gross wispy mustache. 

“Easy, King Walter,” He lifted his chin in the air. 

“Wrong. It’s your father, King Jonathan,” She said with a condescending smile. Salazar glared at her. 

“Well I never,” He huffed and crossed his arms. 

“Never what? Studied anything in your life? Because that’s something I’d believe. I mean, come on, who doesn’t know their own father?” She snorted. Salazar looked at her with disgust. 

“You are very unladylike,” He said. 

“It’s an art,” She replied.  

“Mhm,” He mumbled, continuing their walk through the castle once more. 

“So.. tell me... what about your kingdom do you know?” She asked. 

“We’re the number one supplier of clocks in the world,” He stated. 

“Right, but other kingdoms are coming up close behind, so I’d keep a close eye on that if I were you,” Angelina pointed out. 

“Ridiculous,” He scoffed. 

“Oh, but it really isn’t. Your methods are old and outdated and so people from the outside have worked on improving your old designs and they’re only becoming better and better,” Angelina said nonchalantly. Salazar’s eye twitched. 

“You know, this really isn’t the way you should talk to your betrothed,” He snarled. 

“Betrothed? What on earth makes you think we’re betrothed?” Angelina jumped in surprise. 

“I was invited here, no?” He eyed her up and down. “I was promised a bride, and seeing as you’re the prettiest one around and I was invited, we’re betrothed,” he said, placing a hand on her waist, to which she then jumped back and away. 

“Hate to break it to you, dimwit, but that’s not how this works.” She outright glared at him. 

“Oh please, there’s no sense in fighting it,” He rolled his eyes. “I want you, and so you’re going to be mine. Nobody says no to me.”

“Oh I’m sure they do, you probably just ignore it or are too much of a moron to see it,” She spat. 

“I am not a moron.” He raised his voice, but Angelina wasn’t frightened. 

“Sure. And my name isn’t actually Angelina,” She rolled her eyes. “Get real, you know almost nothing about your own kingdom’s history, and I’m sure if I wanted to bore myself further I’d discover you know nothing of Warnerstock, and it’s very apparent you haven’t a single clue of manners or decency in front of a princess.” 

“I. Am. Not. A. Moron,” He clenched his fist. 

“Oh please! If I were to look up the word ‘moron’ in the dictionary, it would have a picture of you. I mean- assuming you’re betrothed to me just because my mother invited you here? My mother may hate my guts, but she’d never do that,” Angelina smirked.

“I can have anything I want, just watch me,” He growled, stepping towards her, and Angelina realized just how much taller he was than her. 

“You’re nothing more than an arrogant, stupid, brainless, spoiled baby that hasn’t heard ‘no’ nearly enough in his life,” She defied him, and he raised his hand and struck her across the face so hard, she fell to the floor with a loud thud. 

Angelina laid on the ground a moment, realizing what just happened, feeling the sting and burn in her cheek. Slowly, she sat herself up. 

“You hit me,” She looked up at him. He dusted off his hand. 

“You’re truly a disgusting creature, Angelina.” he scowled. “I showed you nothing but decency, and you lash out like the vicious animal you are.”

Not even wanting to dignify his bullshit, she instead called for the royal guards. Salazar’s eyes widened as four guards came into the room from their posts, and upon seeing their princess on the floor with a newfound bruise and the neighbor prince red in the face with anger, they were quick to separate the two. 

“I won’t forget about this Angelina. I’ll be back, and I’ll make sure to give you hell once I’m in charge,” He declared for all to hear as he was escorted out. Angelina shuddered as she was helped up by one of the guards. 

“You alright, Princess?” He asked. 

“I’m fine,” She said, not wanting to get into it. 

Despite the stinging in her cheek, she had done what she had to. 

“Just take me to my mother, I’m sure she’ll be delighted to hear about this,” Angelina sighed. The guards nodded and she was escorted to her mother’s private study. She knocked on it once before entering. 

“Angelina, why am I not surprised?” Her mother didn’t look up from her paperwork, shaking her head. “What happened?”

“He had to leave early,” Angelina said. 

“He just barely arrived,” The queen remarked, before looking up at her daughter’s face and frowning. 

“Angelina, what did I tell you? I told you you had to be on your best behavior and you deliberately disobeyed me,” She set down her work. 

“Well gee, I’m sorry alright?” She rolled her eyes. 

“You and I both know that isn’t true. Honestly Angelina, why do you feel the need to sully the kingdom’s good name like this?” Angelina the First rubbed her forehead and stood. 

“Because it’s dumb. All of this is. The suitors, the manners, It’s just so dumb,” She complained. 

“Angelina, I’m not having this conversation again,” The queen stated. “These rules and rituals are tradition. You don’t have a choice. One day you will marry a suitor I picked out for you, whether it makes you happy or not.”

“I’d sooner die,” Angelina glared. 

“If you had any sense in you, you’d learn to bite your tongue, Angelina. Or do you want to be hit a second time today?” The queen raised her hand with her wedding ring on it and Angelina flinched. The queen smirked a little. 

“That’s what I thought,” She said, before sighing and returning to her paperwork. 

“We’ll have to reschedule the other suitors I had planned to visit this month until that bruise heals. We can’t have rumors spread,” She said, writing something down. If she had been feeling better, Angelina would’ve smiled. Her mother went silent a long moment, the only noise being the scratch of her quill touching the paper. Eventually her mother looked up at her, with an expression that looked like a mix of disgust, tiredness, and annoyance. 

“You can go now,” She said. Angelina curtsied for her mother, and then left.

For a while, Angelina found herself wandering the halls of the castle as she rubbed her bruise lightly. She knew she had done what she had to, but she still felt dazed. Perhaps it was from hitting her head, but she felt... odd. Light headed was the best term she could think to describe it. 

It wasn’t too long before Angelina noticed that she had wandered into the garden. That was good. The flowers and fountains did a lot to clear her mind on days like these. Eventually, she made her way to the middle, and sat down on the bench and watched fountain and birds that stopped to bathe in it. She couldn’t be sure of what she was feeling, but whatever it was, it was a lot.  

After awhile of just sitting there, a familiar voice called out, and Angelina looked up and felt herself revive a little. 

“Angelina! There you are,” William smiled and ran to sit down next to her. 

“Hi,” She smiled and scooted over so there was room. 

“How was your- oh my... what happened?” William gasped, referring to the bruise. 

“O-oh it was nothing, really,” Angelina brushed it off. 

“You’re hurt Lena,” He frowned with concern. Angelina took in a deep breath and sighed. 

“A suitor visited today- Prince Salazar of Ticktockia. I pushed things a little too far this time and well... he got pretty mad. And now my mother is pissed that I managed to make one of our strongest allies hate my guts,” Angelina chuckled sadly. 

“Lena... I’m so sorry. That’s terrible,” William said, his eyes watering. Angelina didn’t know how to respond. 

“William- I’m okay. Really. I’m used to it,” She tried to laugh it off. 

“You’re used to it?” His concern only grew and Angelina bit her words. 

“I-i mean...” She sighed. “You know my mother by now. I’m used to this.”

“Lena, I’m so sorry. Nobody should ever, ever hit you, especially your own mother,” William said. 

“Thank you William,” She smiled tiredly at him. 

“Lena, I swear to you, so long as I live, I’ll never let anyone hurt you like this ever again,” He held her hand and kneeled on the ground. 

“W-william, I-i don’t know what to say,” She sniffled, and realized her own eyes were starting to fill with tears. Quickly, she wiped them away. William then stood and pulled her into a tight and loving embrace. At first, Angelina was hesitant, but she chose to embrace it, and she hugged him back, and found herself quickly sobbing into his shoulder. 

“It’s okay Lena, I’m here. It’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore,” he promised, and Angelina believed him. She felt safe in his arms, and never ever wanted to let go. She wanted to stay with him forever, safe and happy and secure. She knew he’d never hurt her, ever. 

She loved him. 

Princess Angelina the Second was in love with William. 

She smiled a little and embraced him even more. 

No matter what her mother tried to do or who she tried to set her up with, Angelina knew she was in love with William, and nothing was ever going to change that. 

[griimhilde-a]

if you know, you know.

———       a response to those who refuse to move on.

EDIT: after some encouragement and realizing that, while i tried to be respectful and private about this situation, i was not given the same treatment, i’ve decided to be upfront and filterless. here is a link to my page of receipts that i did not provide in this post. 

i would like to point out that when i made the DNI, it was buried and sandwiched in my super long rules purposely so that it wasn’t explicitly visible and drawing attention. it was specifically put there for mutuals to understand my boundaries for the new blog, and as soon as i moved blogs, my guidelines underwent heavy reconstruction and the DNI section was removed overall ( i don’t like DNIs for myself ), as well as on this blog. all statements made in the DNI were what i felt to be true and based off of not only my experiences, but others’ as well, backed up with evidence i have saved that i didn’t feel the need to provide because it wasn’t meant to be a big deal, but i also felt i needed to explain why this person was on a DNI and that it wasn’t done out of malicious intent. again, if something sounds bad it is because “bad” things were done and i can’t control that.

reading the call-out had me ( and others ) confused on where it was i had bullied her, when i had her blocked since november, where it was i had manipulated her, and so forth. i’m always wanting to be a better person, so i was extremely confused on where i had done anything wrong. i also didn’t appreciate my new blog url being attached to it as it had nothing to do with it and i was trying to move forward, and it read very much like an attempt to blacklist. despite everything, i never wanted it to be a spectacle. the pinned, public call-out by this person doesn’t read to me as someone wanting to move on, but wanting to drag things further. this is not a call-out post, this is me defending myself. i will not name drop. if you know who this is about, i ask you just read this to understand the full story. 

this is going to be a long boi ( i really tried to keep it short but alkfjdklfksldf nope ). i would also like to apologize for any dryness here, but i am aiming to just state facts as they are. it feels    ----    ridiculous writing this all out because it’s something that could and should have been handled privately. but, here we go !!

everything on the DNI is true. i will not post or reveal the sources because one, they are not my stories to tell, and two, i am not going to give her the excuse to bother them. they deserve to be safe, and i am walking proof of what happens when you speak out against someone like her. if i have to bear that burden, then so be it. 

it stopped being about “just a url” a long time ago. it became more about how i was treated in that interaction, and how i was continued to be treated afterwards. not to mention the increasing tension within the rpc and having to second-guess whether or not i was truly wanted. it was about how it was affecting those around me, my time in a hobby i love, and my mental health. the amount of times a mutual has tagged me by accident when they meant to tag her is insane. it most definitely did not feel good !!! if that kept happening, it was a problem. i also had to shut off the anon feature because of the amount of anons i was receiving. some had good intentions, but others had resorted to hate. 

regarding the messages on discord --- i stand by them. i thought if you were friends with someone on discord and have previously talked over time, it was okay to message, otherwise what was the point of discord? i didn't realize it would make her uncomfortable to do so, and i’m more careful about how i approach people now !!! 

regarding the messages: there was no change in tone other than that i grew exhausted and extremely anxious ( shaking !!! palms sweaty !!! knees weak !!!! mom’s spaghetti !!! ) and wasn’t in the proper mindset to sound happy while i was being invalidated to my face. i have even apologized there if i came off as mean. i don’t “present myself” in a way. that’s just how i talk, i prefer communicating one-on-one and i try to alleviate tension that arises no matter what because these types of conversations aren’t always a walk in the park. i wanted things to be good and not stressful for all parties involved. i’m sorry my tone came off as insincere. after being in desc rpc for a year, i was a little surprised seeing a near-identical url so i think it was fair for me to message her about it. she made the decision use it, and i was allowed to react. it was said misspellings in urls made her anxious so i wanted to help and i was shot down and vilified, essentially told i made her feel unsafe and shouldn’t have messaged. if it wasn’t okay to claim i felt “unsafe” and “paranoid”, why was it okay for her to claim the same based on a choice she made herself, but not me to feel anxious about those choices? 

i have never told a blog to block her. i have never initiated conversation about her, nor have i spoken negatively about her as a person. ever. i have, in fact, even stated that i didn’t want anyone blocking and that it would be okay to interact. here’s one example after i was approached about her. i cannot control what other people do.

hardblocking her on my end was to avoid seeing her on dash as much as possible. 

i am allowed to softblock / unfollow people who interact with her after months of trying to be okay with it. what kickstarted this process was someone i thought was a close friend had dropped me and suddenly i realized i didn’t need to sacrifice my comfort for the sake of keeping a mutual. if they could do it, so could i. while i adore the descendants rpc, the rpc is not a family, we’re not obligated to interact IC or be mutuals with every single person in the rpc. it’s not causing a rift when we don’t interact on dash. i have even emphasized that i would love to stay in contact via discord and write there if possible !! why am i being vilified for trying to make my blog a safe space for me?

regarding the “vagues”: they were all responses. a mutual wrote the post, i reblogged it, my tags were in response to the post ( said mutual’s url wasn’t even blocked out so ... ). if it felt like a vague, i can’t control that. the meaning behind the url post was circulating on dash, i didn’t see any vaguing in it other than me recounting my process of choosing this url, which was true ( was i not allowed to participate?? ). the shrek meme was in response to a public dash event ( which i originally thought was a joke ) that had received copious amounts of criticism for. it wasn’t a vague and it was explicit on what it was referring to, it was meant to be silly dash commentary, nothing deep. 

this is in my rules but i have explicitly stated that my headcanons about my characters are not a vague if they differ from yours. the talk about hair styles was actually initiated in a conversation with my friends in private. it had absolutely nothing to do with her. if it sounded like a drag, i encourage everyone to look at how i’ve “dragged” many other things including the original outfits for descendants, evie thinking mermaid dresses are ugly, evie not liking wine, and so forth. my portrayal of evie =/= other portrayals of evie. while she may never do so-and-so, it doesn’t make it wrong for another portrayal to do it. ( why was my blog being kept tabs on and compared with, in the first place? that’s not duplicate friendly ).

regarding sex week: i've stated it was an inappropriate event because the descendants rpc had been heavily criticized for smutting and felt it wasn't the best response, nor was it the best way to promote sex positivity. it was insanely uncomfortable to witness, as someone in this rpc. it doesn’t matter if the people or the muses involved were adults, i would still call it inappropriate had it happened in any other rpc. it wasn’t a “block and move on” situation. i’m also allowed to defend myself because i didn’t want to be associated with something she posted. i didn’t want it tied to my url. i would like to clarify that when i said "embarrassing" in the responses under that anon, it was directed at the anon for misreading the url, nobody else. ostracizing occurred when the descendants rpc was being added to DNIs because of sex week / smutting, which was posted by this person ( if you post it, you start it. simple ). i had been blocked simply because i am a descendants blog and that had never happened before. 

i was also notified that people uninvolved with this have been namedropping me on dash in an attempt to have me “written off” ( their words, not mine ) because my rules stated that i was open to exploring evie’s sexuality. below is a screenshot of my rule regarding smut. i deleted the rules page from this blog when i moved so i snatched it from my other canon descendants blog that i reuse on all blogs. the second is my elaboration on sexual content in my new evie rules. the third is what’s on my google doc, a condensed version of my rules. there is a major difference between smutting and posting a public dash event dedicated to sex versus being open to explore sexuality as a topic. they are not the same. also, me not choosing to smut does not dictate my opinion on smut, so do not make assumptions about that either. if you want to move on, why are you still talking about me on dash, especially when unprompted? if you just want to move on, why are you upset that i’m not “written off”?

this person has vagued me multiple times ( which they conveniently did not show in the call-out ), this person has been shown to talk badly of me in private ( and now, publicly as well )    ----    all of which i have not done. i have screenshots sent by others to show for it, but do not feel it’s relevant to share because this is not about her. this is just about defending myself. 

i have spent three months apologizing for feeling things, apologizing for reacting, apologizing for things i should not have been apologizing for. i have spent so long accepting blame because i felt it would help. i’m done doing that. i know what i did and what i didn’t do. people know what i did and didn’t do.

all in all, i am confused on why a call-out was made when the content provides nothing other than catty remarks meant to air out personal drama. the messages exchanged only show how i tried to remedy things. the screenshots of my “vagues” were just responses, and most of which had nothing to do with this person. my initial silly dash commentary and later discomfort over a sexual dash event posted by this person is not a vague. 

if you ( referring to maker of the call-out and others who partook ) are upset about people not talking about me in regards to the “rest of the call-out”, maybe consider the fact that there was nothing about me in it that warranted a call-out in the first place. people saw that i did nothing wrong. the only thing of substance in the call-out was something the maker themselves did : the public, sexual dash event. people are allowed to identify that as a more prominent issue as opposed to how my messages or public posts could be perceived through basic, biased narrative manipulation.

me deciding to unfollow / softblock blogs that interact with this person =/= involving the descendants rpc or making it public. i am allowed to softblock whoever i want to cultivate my dash experience. most people i know have it in their rules that they are okay with people softblocking for their comfort and that it won’t be taken personally. you know what IS making it public and involving the entire descendants rpc? this person messaging a descendants server and name dropping me in the server, reducing the situation to just being about a “url” and publicly announcing it in the server. here are the facts to consider: her message was sent jan. 21. my DNI went up feb 2. 

so, regarding the call-out: there was no bullying, no manipulation, no harassment, no gaslighting, nothing from my end, and the call-out shows precisely that the claims are just that: claims. whatever was felt��is valid, but feelings =/= gravity of the actual action itself - the most common thing pointed out in therapy: feelings are valid, but are they justified? call-outs should be reserved for people who cause actual harm, not because someone wants an excuse to blacklist. if i am a “bully” for unfollowing blogs for my own comfort, then i think the rpc really needs to reevaluate what these terms mean because the misuse is harmful. 

here are the things i did do: treated everyone i talked to with respect. approached things civilly. communicated. tried to accommodate for others. attempted to make a safe space for myself. did not involve the entire rpc by announcing it in a server. did not make a call-out post nor pin it. did not continue to name drop afterwards despite claiming to want to move on.

this entire situation is absurd and should have never been public, much less made a call-out for !! while this was meant to defend myself and state facts, i understand it may not change minds. a friend has told me that people will hate me because they want to hate me, no matter what. and i can’t do anything about that !! all i have to say is that holding hate in your heart never ends well. i hope everyone can find peace at some point.

so please, let me move on. let me write with my friends. let me unfollow / softblock people to keep my dash comfortable. let me take a break from descendants while also having the choice to return at anytime. please stop talking about me when i’m not even giving this another thought and haven’t since i moved blogs. please stop name dropping. stop keeping tabs on me, stop stalking my new blog. please leave me alone. i hold absolutely nothing against anyone i may have softblocked / unfollowed or am not currently interacting with on my new blog. my IMS / discord is always available, you will not be violating my safety by messaging me, everyone is welcome, but i also understand if you feel the need to separate yourself !!! as for those of you who have interacted with the call-out post, i wish you the best but i hope you understand why i do not want to interact with you by any means in the future. 

i’m hoping this post lays everything to rest, seeing as my first one did not. honestly, what are you trying to prove if you still have to post about this? it helps nobody. this back-and-forth is exhausting and unneeded. no more. let’s be better people, yeah?

i hope everyone takes care of themselves, i hope you all have a great day / night !!! thank you for reading this long boi !!

[tanadrin]

I suppose because politics is what means I have no future of any kind left, so it's hard to be silly about it. And I seem to have landed myself in a sector of social media filled with people who are very smug about how smart and nihilistic they are, and I hate all of you with the hatred that only a miserable, powerless person can feel.

I don’t buy it. Unless you are quite literally scheduled to be executed at dawn, “no future of any kind left” because of politics is catastrophizing. People in very dire circumstances the world over often manage to build some kind of life for themselves; it may not be the life they want, and the suffering they endure because of the circumstances they are limited by should not be dismissed, but to say that someone in such adverse conditions has no future is to infantalize them and deny them the agency they do have to shape their life to some extent.

And this is an insight I’ve found important when dealing with depression in myself: even if one’s catastrophizing is not irrational (say, you’re a queer person stuck in an extremely homophobic environment, at minimum for the next 5-10 years), that does not mean it is useful. To put it another way: circumstance might justifiably make you angry and sad and frustrated. That may be rational. Deciding, in the face of that anger and sadness and frustration, to surrender to it is not rational.

So--assuming that you are not a political dissident due to be executed, nor suffering from a terminal illness which somehow for political reasons cannot be cured (if either of these things are true, you have my sincere condolences)--I have to say, this ask reeks of someone who’s depressed. If you are depressed, you will always be able to come up with reasons why happiness is unattainable for you, due to circumstances entirely out of your control. This is not a crazy thing to think, because if you are depressed and not treating that depression, most if not all the things you try to do will not solve your unhappiness because they are usually orthogonal to what is making you unhappy. Your very ability to accurately imagine future happy states and what might bring them about is suppressed by depression; for instance, you might, if you are depressed and you know it, rationally understand that exercise often helps with your depression, but be unable to motivate yourself to exercise because the intuitive link between if I do X I will feel better is broken by an internal forecasting system that refuses to spit out predictions other than “nothing I do will help with anything.”

A depressed state is not a psychotic break--it doesn’t cause you to lose touch with reality--but I think depressed people would sometimes benefit from treating it like one, because it does subvert your ability to accurately model the world, and therefore you can’t trust your own ability to reason or intuit about certain topics. I have both experienced this from the inside, and seen it from the outside: friends whose depression causes them to believe they are unlovable, and thus that nobody loves them, even when told (and shown) repeatedly that they are very much loved, and very important to the people around them.

In fact, you remind me of this post: depressed and anxious people who notice politics is depressing and anxiety-inducing, and that depressing and anxiety-inducing problems confront the world and society, and therefore conclude that their depression and anxiety are a rational and reasonable response to the world. But that doesn’t follow at all! A lot of responses to a depressing and anxiety-inducing environment are more useful that shutting down and withdrawing, or letting yourself be paralyzed; and even if there are negative external factors in the world affecting your life, if you have nothing in your life that is a sufficient source of joy to offset these things at least somewhat, then you have problems sufficiently severe that I don’t think your depression or anxiety can be laid at the feet of the world at large alone; more likely, you’re dealing with shitty personal circumstances, and these are far more likely to be tractable to your individual capacities than, like, all of climate change. And if you do have some sources of joy in your life, you can cultivate those further.

To put it another way: humans are very bad at reasoning about things on large scales or over large timelines. One reason we’re slow to solve problems like climate change is that we tend to be pretty blasé about remote and impersonal problems, which is actually often useful as well--because it means we’re capable of adjusting our hedonic barometer to create joy even in catastrophic circumstances. If you are constantly worried about big issues like climate change or the Trump presidency to the point where you can never do that, then the conclusion you should draw isn’t that you’re a uniquely rational human being with a uniquely accurate worldview, it’s that your brain is broken and you should not trust your intuitition.

Emotional states are not rational models of the world. They are tools our brain uses to motivate certain kinds of action. They probably have their origin in our social evolution, but this means they are extremely untrustworthy when it comes to complex, large-scale, philosophical, or impersonal issues, because these are not scenarios our brains evolved to handle before the advent of high-population, highly-stratified societies.

Now, I realize it’s hard to convince someone they are depressed and/or should seek treatment by rational argument (lord knows I’ve tried in the past!), because after all, if we were being perfectly rational, we would not feel depressed. We wouldn’t feel anything; again, emotions are contingent tools, not highly rationalized responses to the world! So I won’t belabor this point any longer. Instead, now I’m going to get annoyed with you.

Because here’s the other thing depressed people do--and I have done myself. They see people who are not depressed, whose hedonic barometers are functioning normally, and capable of experiencing joy even in arguably (or inarguably!) shitty circumstances, and they get mad at them. How dare you be capable of laughing at a joke, or sharing a meme, or having a nice day, when everything is so bad!

This is a common response, not only from depression, but also I think from grief, or fear, or trauma, or lots of other things. But it’s bullshit. I’m sorry, but you don’t get to demand that everyone feel your suffering as acutely as they feel their own. You don’t get to demand that just because you’re a pessimistic ball of frustration and anger that everyone else be, too. You get to--and ought to--demand that people treat you with empathy and respect, but that doesn’t mean they don’t get to make jokes about topics you find depressing as hell. Yes, even topics that personally affect you, and may not personally affect them (though, of course, a lot of times people assume the person making the joke isn’t personally affected by the topic, when in reality they are and the joke is a way of relieving stress and coping with frustration).

That calvin and hobbes meme I reblogged is an extremely generic political compass meme; the only relevance it has to the world today, I suppose, is acknowledging that, like, politics is a thing that exists. If you’re upset by that--how dare people laugh at politics, the source of all my problems--you’re being a dick.

And this leads my to my final point, which is this: while we are all of us owed compassion, we also owe others compassion. And people caught up in their own anxiety and depression and anger often don’t see the way their emotional states impose costs on the people around them. They often treat the people around them badly--worse, at any rate, than they normally would--and react defensively if this is pointed out to them.

I’ve done this. I have friends who have done this. I get it. It doesn’t make someone a horrible person! It doesn’t meant they deserve to feel the way they do. But it does create the second half of a twofold moral obligation. You see, I believe that the, call it “utilitarian selfishness” view, is essentially correct: if all humans are of similar moral worth (they are), and you can only help one person (often true), and that person is yourself, it is no less moral to help yourself than it is to help someone else. This is usually framed as a grant of permission: “you are allowed to be selfish sometimes.” But it’s also an obligation: “you should not be a dick--even to yourself.” You have a positive obligation to care about your own suffering! And you have a positive obligation to try to reduce the costs your suffering--your bad mood, your depression, your anxiety--imposes on the people around you.

Because I’m not a smug nihilist. I actually believe, with embarrassing intensity, in a large number of abstract principles. And while I believe circumstance or injustice can conspire to make people feel miserable and powerless, and I have the utmost sympathy for you feeling that way, no one is so omnipotent as to be able to truly excise our power to do something with our life that is rewarding to us, no matter how modest. Your subjective feeling of misery is not license to be a dick to people, or to misrepresent them or their motivations. And if reading my tumblr (or anyone else’s) makes you miserable, you have a positive moral obligation to stop, because you’re being a dick to yourself, which is no more justifiable than being a dick to me. And being a dick to me because you don’t like my Tumblr, because you’re miserable and I’m not, is pants-on-head stupid.

I, too, have been so convinced of my misery and powerlessness, and so utterly convinced of my inability to make improvements in my life, that I have yielded utterly to the feeling of myself as a despised, helpless, wretched thing. You can spend years in that state. A lifetime, even. I suppose it relieves you from the burden of having to try, which is a tiny shred of comfort when the climb up the hill seems so steep. But I have found that in the long run it brings no other relief; there’s no regression to the mean, just an endless prolongation of misery. It required some courage, and not a little determination, to try to climb out of that pit. Sometimes you struggle. Sometimes you fall back in. Sometimes it’s easier to believe there’s nothing beyond that place of unhappiness. But there is, and you can get there, and the choice of whether or not to reach it lies only with you.

[dacreshoney]

vikings part 1.3 series 1

series 1 part 1.2 link https://dacreshoney.tumblr.com/post/627446295725015040/vikings-series-1-part-12

1.3 series 1 of master list 

warnings: may be swearing, smut, fluff, violent behaviours mentioned (I do not condone any behaviours) 

gifs and images not my own(can provide any evidence if needs be) or any problems or requests, message me:) 

summary: a week had passed by where freya had arrived in Kattegat to save an old friend of hers, and her and Ivar found themselves to be quite the match in training together. Ragnar was planning another raid on Francia, where Rollo was held captive, although his brother did not know he was now married to a Francia princess and learning new ways to live, now putting aside the old gods. Freya was preparing in Kattegat with Ragnar, his sons and their army, may nights would go by where ivar and freya would look for each other, often finding one another in their dreams. Ivar found something in himself that he thought he would never find, somehow how did start to feel like a real man and not a cripple everyone called him. Freya made him believe he could be so much more. 

..............................................................................................................................

It was the night before the raid and everyone was gathered in the great hall for a feast, this was the last night families would be with each other, celebrating a victory or finding remorse in the nights events. Ivar and his brothers sat at the long table, ivar next to his mother, her arm placed on his, whispering in his ear like she normally does. Aslaug often shown favouritism for ivar rather than her other sons, she too saw greatness in him, but for the wrong reasons. You were getting ready in your chamber, when a familiar face walked into your room, it was Lagertha, her faced beamed from ear to ear, the rumours she heard were true, she had longed to see your face again. both of you embraced for a few seconds before letting go, Lagertha taking her hands to help you fasten up your gown for the feast.

“you are still as beautiful as ever my freya” Lagertha smiled as she helped you with your gown, her smile never leaving her face as she brushed her hands down your sides and raised her head to your shoulders to lean on. you turned to fix her strand of blonde hair on her face to tuck it behind her ears

“well being a god has god to have its perks somewhere in the job description” you joked, you wore a beautiful red wine gown, which hugged your curvy toned figure just wonderfully. Embodied with golden gems and armour, the dress flew just right on the arms and the bottom, your hair tied in with your golden reef crown. The most beautiful goddess and women ever to be laid eyes on.

You made your way through the great hall all eyes turned to you, in which aslaug hated all the attention going to someone else, never mind someone who was walking through the crowds with Ragnar's ex wife. Aslaug noticed ivar jump out of his seat in ore of you, for someone who struggled to walk, with his new crutches and leg pieces she had never seen him move so fast. 

Ivar comes face to face with you, standing tall and proud, to others he was just a cripple, but to you, well you saw something greater in him than any other could see. 

“so the stories are true” ivar spoke, placing his golden cup to his lips, supping at his wine but his eyes never leaving focus on yours. Your expression unclear to what ivar was talking about, questioning him. 

“and what stories have you heard ivar”

Ivar edged closer to you, his head curving into the arch of your neck and whispering “you truly are the most eye capturing goddess this world has ever known” before you could answer, your neck twitching at his warm breath on your neck, he followed with “and you will be mine”. Attracted by his confidence, you immediately turned to face him, your lips just inches apart, his eyes torn on whether to make a move, you inched back teasing him, “I belong to nobody ivar” you winked, picking up a wine cup and walking away to sit with Ragnar.  as you walked away, ivar softly spoke under his breath, “we’ll see”

Ivar watched your every move that night, Aslaug keeping eyes on you also, you'd often make eye contact with ivar and swap hints with your eyes. 

Aslaug sick of the sight of you two, speaks harshly to ivar, “son, what do you think you are doing”. Ivar turned to his mother, losing his grin in curiosity for what his mother was going to say. “I am mearly enjoying myself mother, a cripple has got to find some things worth while in his lifetime” ivar laughed as he sipped his drink. Aslaug furious, grabbed him by the wrist and whispered into his ear, “well let me tell you something dear ivar, she is not worth your while or you hers, do you really think that she could love you, tell me, who here in this room loves you hmm” aslaug questioned, grabbing ivars face and turning it to the crowd of people in the great hall, all laughing and drunk. Ivars face grew red, from embarrassment and his mothers grip. “can you count how many ivar, no I thought so, you only have me, that is all you will ever have, now take your fantasies elsewhere, you are making me sick” aslaug pushed ivar away, you swiftly moved from his chair to leave the great hall. His mother had never spoke to him that way before, ivar was always her precious one, her beloved, could you really make her blood boil that much. You listened in to every word with your senses, as you watched ivar push through the crowd of people, his face red with anger but his heart was saying otherwise, he was broken inside. 

You followed ivar out of the great hall to his chamber, finding him standing there all alone, staring up at the printings of the norse gods praying and pleading for help. You didn't want to startle him, so you walked gently up to him and said

“why pray to them when you have me here, what can they do that I can not” you placed your hand on his shoulder, ivar shrugged you off, he always refused peoples help when he felt this way, he couldn't let anyone in to his emotions, they made him weak he always said. “I do not need any help, especially from you” ivar spoke harshly, not even looking at you. You walked round to face him, your golden eyes catching his icy blue ones, fixated. You raised your hand to place on his cheek, ivar hesitated it first, moving away, until you slowly placed your palm on his cheek and spoke. 

“is that you or your mothers words speaking, ivar, I heard everything she said” ivar started to turn red in the face again, feeling defeated in his ways, “I don't need you feeing sorry for me freya” ivar jumped away from you, turning to stumble away. 

“I don't feel sorry for you actually ivar, I feel sorry for your mother, pitiful and despiteful in her own sons greatness and she doesn't even know the half of your story” you spoke proudly, edging towards ivar who was facing away from you, paused in his steps. You place your hands in his, slowly stoke his hands, moving up his arms to his chin, tilting his chin up you say

“ you have no idea how great you will turn out to be ivar, no idea, you will be the greatest, loved by many, so you can sit here and pity yourself or you can be a man and face your future how I have seen it”. Ivar grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him, “how can I be that man when I am like this, huh? a cripple being a great man, my mother is many things, she is always right, how can anyone love this” ivar spoke, looking down at himself, his crutches, they were what made him feel useless and less of a man. “I am no man, I can't even pleasure a women have you heard? you are a goddess, what do you want with a cripple” 

You removed your hand from ivars grip, placing both hands on his biceps, gracefully sliding them down towards his legs, where you placed your grip on them, towards his groin area, you were the goddess of fertility and love, but your powers could do so much more. You could make him feel like a man he wants to be, your hands moved to his inner thighs, you could see ivar felt something, his eyes told a different story as he looked at you. 

“maybe you just haven't had the right person to make you feel like a man Ivar’... your fingertips, creating circular motions above his ties, something was bulging, you smiled and said ‘I can make you feel like the man you want to be, but know this, being a cripple does not change the fact that we have something, our paths are meant to cross, you can either face that and please the gods or you can run away from your fate and happiness” 

“how are you doing that, I've never umm, felt that before” Ivar winsed and panted under his breath. Taking a seat on the bench beside him, taking your hand with him. 

“ I told you, I can give you anything you want if you let me” 

Ivar paused, tilting his head back in relief, to then lift his head and face you, he then questioned. “can you heal me, my legs”, you hesitated at first, moving yourself onto ivars lap, you wanted to give your all to him, but first you wanted to make him believe he was a man, even as a cripple, he just needed the right person beside him. You knew that your fates were to cross with one another and if making ivars wishes come true and to heal him was what you were sent to do then so be it. But you would let him enjoy this night with you as just ivar, himself, who he was born to be and you could show him that you could love him as this man. 

“If you wish it ivar, but let me show you how I can love you as you are” before you could move your hands he grabbed you by the hips and demanded,

“please, I want to feel you as a human, as someone who is worth of your touch and can reciprocate that” your face grew sad at his response, but either way you knew you would do anything he asked for, like he had a hold of you, freya the goddess bewitched by a human. You set aside, explaining to ivar what you needed to do for the spell, a blood sacrifice, ivar recently had killed his own brother Sigurd, for the sacrifice we needed his blood and his bones. Ivar gulped at the fact he had to remove his brother from his grave, disturbing his peace with Valhalla, but this was a sacrifice he was willing to make. 

“are you sure ivar” you hesitated 

“I have never been more sure” ivar spoke, placing his hands on your cheeks, for he was to be then man he always wanted to be and now he could finally be with a woman who could see his potential, but not only that, she could of loved him as he is, or he was. 

was freya willing to change his future for the sake of something of his imagination or was she willing to make him believe his full potential just the way he was? 

[collecting-stories]

Lover - Daryl Dixon

A/N: A Companion piece to Small Talk. For @ohmagawd-life

My heart’s been borrowed and your’s has been blue,                                 all’s well that ends well to end up with you. - Lover, Taylor Swift

\\\

The Atlanta Camp

“It’s just the underneath bit.” You explained, holding out the razor for Daryl to take.  

He looked skeptically between you and the blade, “Carol’s got short hair, ask her to cut it.”  

You bit the inside of you lip nervously, trying to figure out how best to word what you wanted to say. In hindsight you’d only know Daryl a handful of weeks, if you really counted up the time since he and his brother arrived at camp. And in that amount of time you’d spoken to him maybe twice. Both times just asking a question about something menial and having him answer instead of Shane. “I like Carol a lot,” you began, inwardly cringing, “I just trust you more.”  

“Ya trust me?” Daryl seemed surprised. “Ya don’t me from Adam.”  

True. You knew only a handful of things about him and not enough to fully trust him not to slice your neck open but the undercut you’d gotten just before finding out the world was ending was growing out and bothering you every time you swiped your hand over it.  

Besides, in all honest, ever since he and his brother had joined up with the camp you’d been trying to think of a good reason to talk to him. Sitting on the RV and watching him all day was starting to make you feel like a creep but every time you even thought about going over and chatting him up you felt your whole body go into shock. But Lori had given you her razor upon request and you decided it was now or never. Out of everyone here you would bet he had the steadiest hand and he didn’t seem homicidal.  

“Will you shave it for me or not?” You stretched your hand further, waving the razor for him to take.  

Daryl reached up, snatching it out of your hand and motioning for you to sit in front of him on the log he was occupying. He and his brother had set up camp with the rest of you but had kept themselves at a short distance, a way of saying they didn’t want to be part of whatever Kumbaya circle Shane was trying to coerce. You settled on to the log in front of him, your thighs brushing against his knees. He held his hand out and when you didn’t move his tapped your side.  

“What?”  

“Got a hair tie?”

“Right.” You nodded, getting flustered all of the sudden, “sure.” Well, not all of the sudden, you felt flustered around Daryl on a daily basis.  

Daryl held the handle of the razor in his mouth while his hands gathered up your hair, combing through it and scratching just slightly at your scalp. When you were younger your mom used to do your hair all the time and it was something you missed dearly, the feeling of someone playing with your hair. He pushed on the back of your neck gently to get you to lean forward and then took the water bottle from his side, wetting his hand before running it over the short hairs that had grown in on your undercut.  

“Oh, hold on!” You grabbed at the the hem of your shirt, pulling it off and laying it on the log in front of you. “There.”

It was only your back but Daryl’s whole face turned red, eyes wandering down the expanse of skin now on display to him. In his head he could hear Merle sharing some choice words about seeing you without a top on, even if the sports bra you were wearing covered everything.  

“I don’t wanna get hair on my shirt...I hate when it pricks you.”  

“Why’d ya cut yer hair like this?” He asked, the first gradual swipe of the razor tickling the nape of your neck. You bit your lip to keep from jerking at the action.  

“Dunno.” You shrugged, “saw it on Pinterest and thought it was cute.”  

“What’s that?”  

“Pinterest?”  

He hummed a yes.  

“It’s like an app for people to post a bunch of crafty stuff...although if you go far enough down the Pinterest rabbit hole you can find porn too.” You laughed.  

“Ya use it for that?” Daryl asked, face a bit flush though you couldn’t see it. Merle had told him once that any girl who admitted to liking porn was automatically a slut but he’d really never thought of you that way, you always seemed a little naive. Maybe even innocent was the word he wanted. Though the argument could be had that he didn’t know you all that well. Watching you half patrol/half sunbathe on Dale’s RV every day wasn’t exactly getting to know you.  

“Sometimes,” you shrugged. “Mostly just classroom ideas, homemade soaps and shit, and the odd cookie recipe. Too bad we’re out here, I could’ve baked you something.”  

“For what?” He asked. “I ain’t done anything.”

“Well that’s not true. Nobody else might admit it, too busy kissing Shane’s ass, but we’d surely have starved without you.”  

Daryl hummed but didn’t reply. You couldn’t see it but his cheeks were red with embarrassment at being complimented.  

“Guess I shouldn’t leave Merle out huh?” You asked. When you turned you head to look at Daryl he caught it, guiding you back to face forward and tapping the razor against the base of your neck.  

“Won’t tell ‘em.” He promised, “now stay there or I’ll be slicing ya.”  

“Sorry.”  

Another swipe of the blade and you felt his free hand against your shoulder, thumb rubbing over a particularly sore muscle. “Ya got a knot here.” He mentioned, changing the subject for the sake of not saying something to embarrass himself.  

“I think I pulled it when I was on that run with Glenn.” You explained. He knew which run you were talking about, it was a wonder you hadn’t dislocated your shoulder or worse. Both of you had been caught off guard by a closet you didn’t think to check and you’d almost had a bite taken out of you. “Hey, thanks again for doing this.”  

“Didn’t give me much of a choice.” Daryl commented though he wouldn’t have refused.  

“Well, I trust you the most to have a steady hand.” You explained. “Plus we haven’t really hung out with each other yet.”  

“Not really the ‘hanging out’ type.” Daryl replied. “Ain’t gonna braid yer hair and gossip about shit.”  

You smiled as you felt him brush the stray hairs off your neck and shoulders, blowing on your skin and raising goosebumps. “I don’t know,” you mused, “I’m having a pretty good time right now.”  

“Ya want this back?” Daryl asked, holding out the razor for you and ignoring your comment.  

“Yeah, Lori wanted to use it when I was done.” You took the razor back and slipped into your pocket, “something about shaving her legs.”  

You hadn’t pulled your shirt back on yet and, in the interest of keeping you here just a tiny bit longer, Daryl ran his hand over the sore part of your shoulder again. “I can get rid a the knot if ya want?” The phrasing sounded awkward, he wasn’t quite sure how to ask if you would stay and if he could touch you and if you would spend more time with him.  

“Okay,” you nodded, adjusting the way you were sitting so you were just a little closer to him. You closed your eyes, trying to take calming breathes that didn’t make you sound like you were having a panic attack as you felt his hands on you. His were definitely the hands of someone who did manual labour for a living. Hunting, working on cars, everything he seemed to be good at revolved around using his hands and you were definitely adding  massages to the list. He knew how to work out a knot.  

Daryl’s hands traveled away from the spot eventually, easing across your upper back and down to the base of your spine where a particularly painful muscle had you unable to sleep. He’d noticed you a couple times, sitting outside on the picnic bench while everyone was asleep. He’d been on watch the first night when you crept out of your tent.  

“Is there a knot there?” You asked, looking over your shoulder at him.  

He pressed his fingers against the soft bit of extra fat that cling to your hips. Apocalypse be damned, you still couldn’t shake all the weight. “Right here.” He nodded.  

“I was worried it was my sciatica or something serious.” You replied, ever the hypochondriac.  

“It’s just a knot.”  

“I can feel it all the way down my leg sometimes.”  

Without thinking, cause if he had he would be horrified, Daryl slid his hand down from your back, brushing along the back of your thigh. “Down here?”  

“Yeah, that’d be it.” You nodded, heat rising to your face.  

“Might be a muscle ya pulled, same as yer shoulder.” He shrugged, hand returning to your back as he started kneading the flesh there. He could feel his left hand cramping but he ignored it, hesitant to give up the opportunity just to be this close to you. He could feel the warmth and softness of your skin beneath his hands and if he stopped now he was afraid he’d never get this chance again.  

-

Hershel’s Farm

“All the houses had paths to the street, but the last house in the row had a path obviously more trampled than the others-“

“Ya know I can read right?” Daryl asked, sitting up a little more in the bed Hershel had given him for the night.  

When Shane and Rick has half carried him into the farmhouse it had taken everything in you not to shove that stupid rifle down Andrea’s throat. To keep yourself from having a possible breakdown you’d offered to help Hershel in whatever way you could. And now that he was awake and eating you had continued to play nurse to Daryl, reading to him from one of Dale’s books while you both had dinner.  

“I don’t know that.” You replied, smiling when he swatted at you. “Stop!”  

“Don’t be smart with me, I almost died.”  

“Thought you said it was nothing.” You mocked the southern twang of his voice as you spoke.  

“It was,” he grinned, “till I shot myself with an arrow and Andrea tried ta kill me.”  

“It’s her community service for the month.” You teased, laughing when he swatted you again. “Stop hitting me Dixon.” You crawled down the bed till you were as far away as possible.  

“Come here.”  

“Why?”  

“Cause, come ‘ere.” He waved you towards him and you shook your head.  

“What do you want?”  

“I want ya ta come ‘ere.”  

You stood up on the mattress, careful of stepping the wrong way and falling on him. You had once, at the CDC, you nabbed one of the bottles of jack and taken it to Daryl’s room in an attempt to spend some time with him. He was a hard person to read and you could practically feel him shutting down after Merle went missing, presumably dead.  

Jacqui and Andrea has both told you that you were being desperate but you’d been trying to get Daryl to talk to you for weeks and you’d be damned if all that progress was going to be lost over Merle.  

Once you were close enough to him that he could reach you Daryl grabbed your ankle, pulling you down, almost onto his lap.  

“How many pain killers did Hershel give you?” You asked, smiling. You ran your fingers just below the gauze on his head, brushing some short pieces of hair behind his ear.  

“Why?”

“Cause you’re being awfully sweet to me. Usually I gotta work hard for this much affection.” You commented.  

“Sorry about that.” Daryl replied, unsure what else to say at the confession. He wasn’t an easy person to put up with and he knew it.  

“That’s okay, it’s worth it.” You replied, kissing him on the bridge of his nose.  

“What were ya reading anyway?”  

“The Bourne Identity. My dad used to watch the movies all the time, he was quite the Matt Damon fan.”  

Daryl tried to lean forward, groaning at the shock of pain that went through his side from stretching. You followed the stretch of his arm and crawled down the bed enough to reach the book you had been reading earlier.  

“You’re gonna let me read to you?” You asked, smiling at him.  

“Beats laying here alone.” Daryl shrugged, easing back to lay down.  

“Ya know,” you started, leaning close to him again, “It’s good what you’re doing, for Carol. Trying to find Sophia.” 

“Shane and Rick are doing the same.” He shrugged. 

“No.” You shook your head and leaned even closer, pressing a kiss to his lips, “it’s more than that Daryl, you’re a good man.”

“Yer just saying that cause I’m letting ya read.”

You smiled, “is it working?” 

“Read yer book.” He replied, face flushed red. 

“It belonged to an Englishman who had come to Port Noir eight years before under circumstances no one understood or cared to; he was a doctor and the waterfront had need of a doctor-“  

-

The Prison

“I feel like everyone is coupling up,” Karen mentioned, wiping sweat off her forehead as she stood at the fence with you and Sasha. “I mean, I’ve seen the way that new guy looks at you.”

“Who?” Sasha asked, “Bob?”  

“Yeah. And your brother has been laying it on pretty thick lately.” Karen looked over at you as you stepped back from the fence, “you’re the only one besides Carol that doesn’t have someone trying to chase your skirt.”  

“Her?” Sasha laughed, “she’s with Daryl.”  

“I’m not with Daryl.” You laughed, “we’re just-“

“Your just always together. And you take the same night watches and you share a cell and so help anyone who tries to hold your attention when he’s even in eyesight because your mind is wandering.” Sasha laughed, “you’re doing it right now.”

“I am not!”  

“Oh really, what are you thinking about?”  

You felt your face heat up at her question and shook your head, “nothing.”

“Wait, wait, you and Dixon? Really?” Karen asked, eyes wide at the information. “How did I not know about this?”  

“They try to keep it hush hush.” Sasha replied, “I had my suspicions and then I caught them in one of the empty corridors together.” She grinned and bumped your hip.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You said, biting your lip to hide a smile.  

Before Karen could reply your name was called. All three of you turned your heads to see Daryl standing there on the jail side of the fence. Sasha nudged you, knowing grin in place as you walked over to where he was standing, out of earshot from the two.  

“Hey.”

“Yer on watch with me tonight.” Daryl said, glancing over your shoulder to where Sasha and Karen were watching you. “What’s with them?”

“Sasha told Karen we’re together.” You mentioned, looking back at them briefly.  

Daryl was quiet for a minute, looking back to you and chewing anxiously on his thumb. He wasn’t sure exactly how he felt about Sasha telling people you were together, if that’s even what you were. He really wasn’t good at things like relationships.  

“I’ll see you tonight?” Your fingers curled around the fence chain and Daryl brushed his knuckles against yours, his eyes soft as he looked at you.  

“Yeah, see ya tonight.”

-

Alexandria

The shower curtain was pushed aside and you looked over, smiling as you stepped out from beneath the spray of warm water so that Daryl could fit in. The small bathroom in the basement had all the necessities required though the shower stall was the size of one that you might find in a locker room, hardly big enough for two.  

Once he was in the shower the curtain was pulled shut again and before he could say anything you spit a mouthful of water at the wall just behind his head. “Would ya quit doing that.” He grumbled. He leaned back under the spray of water, ignoring your laughter.  

“Lighten up.” You teased. As you reached passed him to grab the shampoo off the hanging shelf you placed a quick kiss on his cheek. Before you could step away from him Daryl had his arm around you waist and he guiding you away from the water, toward the tiled wall behind you. “No! Daryl!” You squealed. Despite the warmth of the shower the tiles remained ice cold, especially when the temperature dropped like it had tonight. You tried to squirm out of his grasp but it was futile and in no time at all your bare back was pressed against the cold tile of the shower stall. “Oh my god it’s freezing! You jerk!”  

“That’s what ya get, spitting at me all the time.” He shrugged. Daryl let you go, stepping back again and grinning as you crowded into his space, trying to regain some warmth after the cold shock.  

“And here I was gonna be nice and wash your hair for you.” At the mention of the task Daryl grimaced and tried to get a look at the shampoo that had fallen to the ground in the scuffle.  

“I don’t want any a that floral shit Tara brought back.” He replied.  

Just last week he’d used the shampoo Tara found on a run. It’d been the only thing available but it smelled like vanilla and peonies and Daryl had bitched about the scent attracting bugs until you washed his hair out using the backyard hose and a bar of soap.

“Ya wouldn’t be laughing if ya was getting bit by green flies all day.” He’d grumbled when you had teased him over the ordeal.  

Today, when he brought it up, you only rolled your eyes. “It’s not floral. Promise.” With a hand on his hip keep you steady you squatted down on the shower floor and grabbed the bottle of shampoo. A briefly precarious position, you left a kiss on his hip, just by your hand, before standing up and waving the bottle at him.  

“Fine.”  

“I said I’m not doing it anymore cause you were mean to me, remember? You gotta wash your own hair.” You pointed out.  

If there was anything unexpected to be learned about Daryl it was that he liked when other people, or just you, the theory hadn’t been tested, washed his hair. He liked the feeling of your short nails scratching gently against his scalp as you massaged shampoo in to it and he even liked when you insisted on brushing his hair, though he enjoyed fighting you on it.  

“Fine,” Daryl replied but when he reached for the shampoo you held it away from him. He rolled his eyes, you were full of empty threats. It was once a day you would tell him something in mock seriousness only to take it back moments later.  

“Turn around.” You motioned spinning with your finger as if he needed the direction.  

There was a long pause after he turned around and stepped back from the spray, crowding your space in the shower stall. Daryl turned just enough to see you, giving your thigh a light slap to get your attention. “We don’t got all night.”  

“Sorry,” you met his eyes and smiled, “I was admiring the view.”  

Daryl turned back around without a word, glad the water was so warm cause it made the red of his cheeks indiscernible from warmth to embarrassment. It wasn’t the first time you’d casually offered a compliment to him but he still got just as flustered. He felt you kiss the base of his neck and then you were running your hands through his hair, lathering shampoo on.  

“Have you ever had lice?” You asked.  

“Why?”  

“I used to work in a school, kids used to get lice all the time. Just thought about it, don’t know why.” You shrugged. Sometimes little things like washing hair or reading a book reminded you of the life you led before this.  

“Nah, ya gotta have clean hair for that.”  

“Makes sense...pretty sure you’re allergic to soap.” You mused.  

“I’m in the shower ain’t I?”  

“Cause you wanna wash off or cause I’m in here and I’m naked?”  

He turned fully, grinning as he stepped into the water and tilted his head to rinse the shampoo out of his hair. He’d be perfectly fine out there in the woods, no fancy shit like showers and stoves and beds, but he also liked the attention you paid him far more than he’d care to admit. He didn’t care if it was here or sitting on the porch fully clothed, any attention he got from you was eagerly accepted.  

“I’m good enough ta put up with ya.” Daryl replied. “With yer constant talkin’ and pestering me.”  

You smiled at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself closer so that you could kiss him. His hands went to your waist, keeping you steady on the wet tiles while he kissed you back. He was never really one for things like that before. Probably could have gone his whole life not kissing anybody. There was something entirely infectious about you though and Daryl had trouble going a whole day without at least one kiss.  

He would settle for a kiss placed on his forehead or cheek when everyone else was around and you didn’t want to draw too much attention to the affection you had for him. But he was particularly fond of moments like this, when you were alone together.  

“I love you too.” You finally replied, one more kiss and then you pulled away, “guess we should get out of the shower?”  

Daryl hummed, turning to switch off the water as you stepped out of the small bathroom. The towels had been leftover from whoever originally intended on living in this house, mismatched beach towels in the basement while all the other bathrooms were coordinated. You didn’t mind, happy to be sequestered in the basement with Daryl instead of up on the second floor with Rick, Michonne, Carl, Judith, and Carol. Besides, you could deny that you enjoyed watching Daryl dry off with a fluffy striped towel meant to look like watermelon.  

All the amenities still felt odd. Just the feel of warm water was something you weren’t used to. You wrapped your towel around yourself and hopped up to sit on the counter, watching as Daryl dried off.  

“Hey,” you smiled when he looked over at you, pulling the towel off his head. “Come here.” You extended your leg, your foot brushing against his thigh.  

“What?” He asked, “I’m getting dressed.”  

“Come here.” You insisted.  

He moved away from you, grabbing the pair of sweatpants that were hanging on the back of the door and pulling them on. Both of you had a habit of cluttering the hooks on the bathroom door with your pyjamas. He took your shorts and camisole down and tossed them to you, though you made no move to put them on. Still waiting for him to pay attention to you.  

“Daryl,” you whined slightly, leaning forward so you could still see him from your place on the bathroom counter.  

“What?” He stopped what he was doing, turning away from the bed he was clearing off to look at you.  

“Come here.” You repeated.  

“Why?” He asked, “what da ya want?”  

“You. To come here.”  

Daryl crosses the room into the bathroom and when he’s close enough you stretch your leg out again, hooking it around the back on his thigh and pulling him in. Once he’s up against the counter, in between your legs, you reach up, hands grasping his face and bringing him into another kiss. Not as sweet as the last one though just as loving. His hands slipped beneath the towel that was still wrapped around you, calloused fingers running over smooth skin as he pulled you closer to him.  

When Rick was handing out room assignments in the two houses Daryl had requested the basement. At first you felt a bit conflicted about sleeping in a basement but as time in Alexandria passed you’d grown to appreciate the space. Once the basement door was close you felt almost like you were in your own little world, a feeling you’d been trying to grasp since you lost it after Hershel’s farm. It was a place just for the two of you without watchful eyes trying to gauge exactly what you were to each other.  

“Hey, if I tell you a secret will you promise not to laugh at me?” You asked, brushing wet hair out of his eyes. Your voice was quiet as if someone might hear you. The thought was one you’d had for so long you could barely remember when you’d first started to think it, something deeper than love, more profound, something you had trouble grasping as a concept with words though you could feel it every time he was near you. Though you knew she didn’t mean it in a romantic sense, wasn’t it Emily Bronte who said ‘whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same.’

He nodded, no quip at your expense to safeguard himself. Daryl wasn’t always good at picking up on other people’s emotions but he knew you weren’t joking around with him.  

“I’ve been thinking about it, how to say it without feeling silly,” you held one of his hands in yours, running your thumb along the inside of his wrist in hopes of keeping your calm. As if his heartbeat was yours. “Sometimes I think, I’m glad that this happened, that you and Merle found our camp in Atlanta. Cause I think we’re-“ you trailed off, trying to find the words to it.  

You closed your eyes when you felt Daryl kiss your forehead. “I know.” He replied. And you smiled, of course he knew. Why wouldn’t he? Hadn’t you been fashioned from his rib and he from yours, made for each other by some divine force? “Come on, I’m heading out with Aaron in the morning.”  

“Okay.” You let him lead you to bed, forgoing the usual process of putting on pyjamas and simply climbing beneath the covers with him. You situated yourself just so, able to hear his heart beat beneath your ear, a dull thump in time with your own and you moved just enough to lay a kiss to his bare chest.  

-

Just an excuse to write some cute Daryl fluff.

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[deadlysansa]

Your prompt is: it’s Christmas season and I’m pulling out my fake Christmas tree only to find a giant ass spider living in it, I scream, and you (my flat neighbor) come running to my rescue

Thank you for the prompt! It was a challenge writing Christmas going into a crazy hot weekend but an attempt was made lmfao. Nobody proofed this for me I’m just trying to distract myself from the world like everyone else atm! I hope you can enjoy

Read on AO3.

Christmas in Flip Flops

James loved Christmas. He was a straight up Christmas fiend.

That being said, he didn’t own many Christmas decorations. Every year, he packed his bags and drove to his parents’ house for the holidays with his childhood friend Marlene in tow. It was a lot nicer than his one bedroom flat in central London where she often crashed on the sofa.

“ Ow, shit, shit, shit, shit,” James groaned to himself as a pile of junk slid off the shelf and into his shoulder.

It was 6.30pm on a Saturday night two weeks before Christmas and he was standing fully in his small storage cupboard which had become a bit of a dumping ground. Unfortunately, it was also the home to his forgotten plastic Christmas tree, so here he was, pulling it from the wreckage.

James had been renting alone for two years now, ever since his two best mates had fallen madly in love and decided James was definitely cramping their romantic bliss. That didn’t stop Sirius and Remus from demanding he host a Christmas party at his place and advising he ‘spruce it up a little’. They claimed it was because James lived closest to their favourite pubs, but he had a sneaking suspicion they were dying to get a look at the neighbour that he had maybe, possibly mentioned a couple of times since she’d moved in six months and twelve days ago. He’d also told them about her boyfriend and the heated argument four months and twenty-three days ago which turned him into an ex-boyfriend. It didn’t matter. His mates had had enough of hearing about how Lily Evans in Flat 5A was making it quite clear she wasn’t ready to move on. 

Thoughts of a certain intoxicating redhead who liked to hang out in her doorway sipping coffee and rolling her eyes at him made him distracted enough to be almost taken out by an old baseball bat making a break from the top shelf.

James’ hands finally landed upon the box in which the tree was kept and tugged it free of the dusty confines of the cupboard. Grinning at his success, James carried the tree to his small living area. He hoped it looked better than he remembered, because he only had a few strings of tinsel and the sprig of mistletoe he’d hung above his head which looked slightly pathetic. James pulled a face at the hanging berries. At Christmases gone by, he didn’t even need mistletoe for a cheeky snog but now he’d turned into someone who lingered in the lobby of his building if he knew Lily was due home.

His saving grace for this party might have to be the festive cocktails he’d made (and sampled) earlier. James’ version of a cocktail was actually a catastrophic mixing of any alcohol he had on the shelf, but fuck it, it was red.

“Hey, Mr Flitwick, how are you?”

He heard the familiar melodic voice in the hall thanks to the criminally thin walls and James stopped his assault on the cardboard box. He looked up at his closed front door, as though he could see Lily on the other side rooting through her bag for her keys. Every single day without fail, she took two minutes to find them. Every single day, James wondered how much crap she had in her bag and whether she was over her stupid ex yet.

He heard a door click close and with a sigh James turned back to the tree. Maybe he should have invited her tonight, but he’d stopped asking when she turned down his first ten invitations to the pub. Even he didn’t fancy being snubbed at Christmas.

Freeing the tree, James saw that it did look very sad and —

“AAGH! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” James shouted as a giant black house spider darted from its hiding place in his ugly fake Christmas tree. Leaping onto the couch, he was horrified to see the spider scuttle in the same direction.

“NOT TODAY, YOU LITTLE FUCKER!” He was practically screaming at the eight legged nightmare, not aware of how loud he was being or at how he looked as a 25 year old man fleeing from a glorified bug.

James lobbed a cushion and shouted again, as though a spider could be yelled into submission. He didn’t notice the door bang open and Lily Evans flying into his flat with the determination of an FBI agent in pursuit, flip flop poised, until she was two feet away from him.

She skidded to a stop, breathing heavily. James was frozen, fear completely forgotten as he stared at Lily in his flat. She had never even crossed the doormat.

A frown was forming on her face, “What the hell , Potter?” She stared at the spider, now still on the carpet. “Are you screaming at this spider?”

James composed himself, hand instantly going to his hair, realising it would be tricky to jump down from the sofa with any shred of masculine dignity.

“Um, no?” James replied lamely.

Lily looked up at him, smirking now. “You were.” Laughing, she dropped the hand holding her flip flop. “Oh, I can’t wait to tell Bertha in 4C that tough guy James Potter nearly cried over a spider.”

She was practically gleeful, and James had to work hard not to just pull her up for a kiss. The only thing that stopped him confessing how much he liked her every time he opened his mouth was his emotionally buffering confidence. James refused to let his embarrassment show, and zoned in on the shoe she held.

“All right, Evans, easy on the tears talk,” James protested. “Were you planning on defending my honour with a flip flop?”

Face turning pink, Lily hid it behind her back. “Oh, shut it.”

“Tell me, what are the statistics on flip flops and self defence?” He teased, spurred on by her blush.

Scowling, Lily picked up a nearby glass and trapped the spider where it was with a pointed slam. Oh, shit. His dream woman.

Stepping off the couch, James grinned down at her.

“Thanks for saving me.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “You’re an idiot.”

“You’re the one in my flat, Evans.”

“Your door was unlocked! Which I’ve told you a million times is crazy, by the way.”

“I leave it unlocked in the hope you’ll come barging in armed with a flip flop,” He said with a mocking seriousness.

It was at that moment he realised he was standing very close to her, and she smelled so bloody nice and looked unnervingly good in a thick knitted jumper bearing Santa’s face and soft blue jeans.

Lily’s mouth twitched then, “Is that right?”

“You never come over when I’ve asked you, I figured I’d trick you into rescuing me,” He answered smoothly, not being able to conceal a smile at their awareness of his bullshit.

Lily’s emerald eyes glittered with mirth until she looked up and suddenly leapt away from James like she’d been electrocuted. He missed her instantly and she was a metre away. ‘In trouble’ was an understatement.

“Sorry,” She mumbled, tucking her hair behind both ears. “Mistletoe.” Lily pointed a delicate finger toward the ceiling. James followed her gaze and tried not to let his heart sink all the way down to his knees.

He raised his brows, “Sorry? It’s just mistletoe.”

“How’s Marlene?” Lily asked abruptly. Seemingly unable to meet his eye all of a sudden, she stared at the trapped spider that James was diligently ignoring.

Now the poster boy for bafflement, he shrugged, “She’s fine,” James said quickly. “Are you friends?”

Lily’s face was turning steadily pink and she laughed nervously, “Not really. Don’t worry, I’m not spying on you for your girlfriend or anything.”

The sentence was so funny to James that he burst out laughing. He didn’t know why Lily looked so scandalised, it was a good joke.

Lily’s embarrassment was morphing into annoyance and she folded her arms, “Why are you laughing?”

That’s when it hit him. His laughter died and he fixed her with an incredulous stare.

“Do you think Marlene is my girlfriend? Marlene?”

Lily’s eyes flickered, “It’s a very logical assumption to make. She always sleeps here! She goes to your parents’ house with you!” .

James guffawed, his mind racing to wrap around this new predicament. “Yeah, we grew up together! Mar’s parents live next door to mine. She sleeps on the couch after a night out so she doesn’t have to drive home.”

Lily opened her mouth to retort, but the truth struck her and she closed it.

“Oh,” She bit her lip and James took a measured breath. She was relieved. He couldn’t believe he was about to ask what he did until he heard the words.

“Wait, does my relationship status… matter to you?”

Lily covered her face with both hands. “Shut up, 5B,” she said through her fingers, voice muffled.

James grinned, gently prizing her hands apart. Her skin was warm and soft as he slowly slid his fingers between hers, giving her the option to pull free.

“I asked you out multiple times. You should have said yes,” James said, not caring that his voice sounded practically yearning.

Lily watched their interlocked fingers, “I thought you were in a relationship and felt sorry for me for being freshly single in a new area.”

James huffed a laugh, “I definitely did not feel bad. Evans, I’m ashamed to say I was bloody ecstatic when you got dumped.”

Emerald eyes finally met his in indignation, “Hey! I dumped him .” Lily chewed her tongue. “It was over as soon as I realised I fancied my neighbour more than my boyfriend.”

James’ grin was now positively shit-eating but he didn’t care. Lily Evans fancied him - apparently, she had for a while. His gorgeous, mad, funny neighbour who yelled when his shoelaces were undone in the post room and ran to defend him when he screamed like a child at a spider.

James stepped into her space so that the tip of their shoes were aligned. Lily inhaled swiftly, her mouth dropping open before she bit the inside of her cheek.

“James, why do you think I stand in front of my door so long everyday when I get home?���

James smirked, so close now that their shallow breaths mingled, “You can never find your keys in that giant bag.”

“I keep my keys in my pocket,” Lily said simply, gaze flickering to his lips in a way that made his blood hum. “I just mess around in case I catch you coming in or out. All so I could share thirty seconds with you.”

“Well, next time you want to mess around,” James said in low voice, tightening their linked fingers to pull her tantalisingly closer. “You can come straight to me.”

She smiled softly, her eyelids almost closed in a dreamlike state, “Only if you lock that bloody front door.”

Unable to resist any longer, James bent down to catch Lily’s lips with his own and she responded in kind, surging upwards into him with an urgency he could only have dreamed of. Unlocking their hands, she plunged hers into his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way that made him groan, and he wrapped both strong arms around her waist so she was lifted off the ground.

This was bliss. Happy fucking Christmas.

Suddenly, Lily pulled back just a fraction.

“James,” She whispered, her breath skating over his mouth. “I just kicked over the spider glass.”

Right, the spider that had wingmanned him here . He was still absolutely terrified of the thing.

James tightened his grip around Lily and pressed his forehead to hers, “Get the flip flop.”

[movieguy50]

Hey everyone,

I just want to give everyone a quick update as to what's going on with the scams or what's called operation drain and run out of the 200 that were arrested the other day most have been released must have been very forthcoming and giving information some of them have been detained further pending for their interview and or their charges are going to be dropped or reduced law enforcement agencies have confirmed that there are some more smaller cell operations of this type going on here in the United States and in Canada they are now getting in with the Canadian authorities to help with the investigation up there I can't tell you that 75 of the 200 people arrested the other day were members of Tumblr so basically yes they were right under our nose and we did not know it but I knew it.

I can also tell you that information from this point forward is going to be very slim because they are wanting to Big Cheese the people that are actually masterminding all this and they're going to have to start being careful what information they let out and that's totally acceptable to me I totally understand that and they did say the other thing about passing the info. on to you guys as much as they can. They said that I have been a big help in this there's been a few other people that have come forward they've also been assisting and helping out but I still need some more help so anything y'all got if it if it means you got scammed don't worry about being embarrassed you're not going to be judged or you're not going to be treated like shit just because you fell for it.

So now if you've noticed that I changed the format of my blog it makes it look like it's in a daily or weekly episodic TV show it's still called a slice of my world but it's also episode 1-18 this is starting to become a daily or actually it should say it bi-weekly thing of me posting and I have enjoyed it don't get me wrong but the title of this is called oh how things have changed and it's basically going to be a lot of difficult reading from this point forward but stuff that once you read it you'll understand why it has been so difficult I I'm going to Chronicle the night of January 20th of last year through the morning hours of January 21st which is what I considered the moment my life changed forever.

So we begin on January 20th 2020 I had to go to work I walked 4 miles to go to work because I didn't have a vehicle anymore and we were living in a motel so I had to you know make sure one of us is working until a lot of times where I was staying even hard for me to get a ride. So I work the 3:30 to close shift which basically meant I left between anywhere from between 12:30 and 1:00 in the morning I worked at a movie theater which by the way was probably the best job I had ever had in my life I I love that place I would love to go back to another one like it. So basically I got off work about 12:30 that night and normally I would have a ride to work on Monday nights this week it wasn't possible because of something that happened at the theater the manager got behind on his paperwork on and couldn't get out on time like he normally does I had to go to the store that night because we didn't have very much food so I went to store I got about 2 or 3 nights worth of food with enough till I get to my day off from work to go to the store and get more. That was a common occurrence so by the time I got done with the store and got home about 2:30 in the morning my wife was asleep she had been sick for about a month before this which now I have directly linked into being one of the first cases of COVID-19 in the united states'.

I came home and like I said she was asleep and I gave her a kiss like I usually do sometimes it wakes her up sometimes it doesn't this time it woke her up we start talking for a little bit I went outside and I did my usual ritual I go outside and smoke a little weed you know kind of relaxed a little bit for about 20-30 minutes yeah I went inside and cooked dinner now for a little background my wife had been sick for a while she had a heart attack November 8th in 2018 and then she had a stroke Easter Sunday of 2019 a stroke that she refused to go get taken care of even though I begged her and had other people beg her to go to the hospital she would not do it when she had the heart attack the doctor was not able to fix all the blockages to her heart because some of the arteries were too small so he told me privately that if she had another heart attack she wouldn't survive it I knew that I told her that about 3 months later so she knew but on this night I never had any dream or knowing that 2 hours after I got home from work she would be dead she had a massive heart attack I was just getting ready to start cooking dinner when she started really screaming about chest pain and I've never heard her go off like she did and even though I called 911 it still took the damn people 20 minutes to get out there otherwise I still think she'd be alive but then again maybe not so to try to make a long story short they would not let me ride in the ambulance with her to the hospital she was still coherent but when they did the ekg in the room where we were staying at I could tell the guy's eyes that she wasn't going to be much longer and I think the reason why they told me I couldn't ride with them was because for the same Theory I think that they didn't want my last memory of her to be of her fighting for her life and dying and I am thankful for that because I've had horrible nightmares about this whole thing and so after I made all the notifications and everything that day I went back to work two days later and I was told I could stay out as long as I needed to they were really really super awesome and amazing to me hell they were even responsible for giving me the money to get my wife buried because they donated money they put a pool in together to help me. The thing about it was is I don't know what upset me more the fact that I wish there was something more I could have done or the fact that I had to have a fucking cop show up to my door to tell me that she was gone even though I had already known it. So when I went back to work two days later it was very very hard because she used to work there too and she used to work at the podium on the weekends where she took the tickets and everything and told people where the theaters were and everything else and I wasn't there for 2 hours and I just doubled over it was just like a big flood of emotion but I made it that night but the hard part was with the weekends because those were the nights that she worked the most everybody loved my wife it worked up there and so I mean I didn't feel like I was so alone then the pandemic came I lost my job I lost my place where I was staying I had to go to my sister-in-law's house which was the biggest mistake of my life cuz I really found out what kind of people they were plus that's when I developed a curiosity for methamphetamine and then I met the bitch from hell not even 2 months later and keep in mind she was just supposed to be a companion we weren't like going to be boyfriend girlfriend cuz I still way too broke up about my wife's death that's all I wanted cuz I couldn't stand being lonely anymore just like I can't stand it now but she got me hooked on meth and I say she got me hooked because she kept bringing it around me knowing that I found something new that I really liked and I didn't ask her to bring it around I could have said no but this has to do with that 28 day period from June to July where she was drugging me putting the dope in my food in my drinks that's why I blame her.

Then after my ex got murdered at a house party I lost my sister-in-law and nephew and then my step daughter called me one day two weeks before Christmas to tell me that she lost her fiance her baby's daddy after he had a heart attack from A congenital heart defect that he had for 6 years the only bright spot of 2020 was my step daughter had a daughter of her own and that to this day that baby is my love bug

As where I'm at right now I'm going to be homeless by next weekend again unless I can come up with $250-300 dollars by Friday night it doesn't look like it's going to happen folks unless I can get some donations and get them quick I am taking donations right now if you can help I don't care if it's 5 10 15 20 $25 whatever it is it will help I don't expect nobody to give me the money all at once cuz I know a lot of people don't have that kind of money right now so just little donations will help right now I had to actually go to Walmart today and steal food God I hate myself for doing it I didn't get caught but still my conscience was getting the best of me for much of the evening I got enough food here to last me for 2 or 3 days if I end up getting to stay here but like I said it's not looking very good at this point I've tried local resources I've tried all kinds of Charities help and all they want you to do is hurry up and wait and I ain't got that kind of time and I told him that so I I'm asking for any help that anyone could give if I don't get if I can get at least $250 out of 400 I can go get me a motel room for the week and I'll get me by until I can come back here when my roommate comes back cuz then he'll have the money for the rent and everything else so I can come back here so I just need to really get by for a week I have not had any dope in nine days I'm going crazy but I need a place to live first before I can be doing that shit so I'll just have to deal with it if you want to help I'll give you my cash app I will put it at the end of this post for everybody so the last 18 months has not been fun I went to six suicide of Temps and I just been existing when before I had it all anyway so that's basically going to end this episode of a slice of my world I'm sorry if this was such a downer for a lot of people but you know I the more and more I feel like I tell my story easier everyday gets for me cuz I don't feel like I'm burying myself with all the emotion and having to keep it bottled up anyway I will talk to you y'all whenever I talk to you I may be on Hiatus for a little bit because I won't have a phone here after tomorrow unless I go someplace that has Wi-Fi and depending on my living situation I mean like I said I'm I'm hoping and praying somebody will be able to help out by donating a little bit of money to me so I can keep a place over my head somehow someway anyway y'all. I love you take care of yourself and I'll see you on the other side

Cashtag $jojo091069

PayPal

Venmo

Google pay

Message for those tags I left blank as I don't know them by heart yet

Love,. Sean

[bayern-moni]

Ship Asks: El Cid x Mine

Author's little den: This is dedicated to @lamaquego that 4 months and 10 days ago asked me to write for her a fanfiction about these two characters and how their "love story" would unfold in a less unforgiving AU than canon. I have to say sorry to you because I'm not able to fulfill that promise, I tried but in this period just can't bring myself to write anything more than these posts, which are a sort of relief for me. So, this is for you, in exchange for that fanfiction that, like that love story, never was. I really hope you can like it 😁

For all the others who just read this post, enjoy it and spread word of this nice ship 👍

*

(AU: Mine lives after the Gaiden's events)

*

How would they describe each other to loved ones who haven’t met their partner yet?

El Cid: "She was a friend a long time ago. No, perhaps it was more than that. She was my favorite rival" (To Lacaille). Apart from that, don't be fooled by her elegant appearance, she was and still is an incorrigible pest.

Mine: The most stubborn man I have ever met! Although he seems quite intimidating at first sight with his sharp looks, he's quite funny to poke fun at. It was one of the few past times I had back then when the three of us lived together in that forest house.

(Don't trust if he says mean things about me, it's only envy)

How do they let their loved ones know they are dating?

They don't. Nobody cared if these two were comfortable enough to convey the news, because their "loved ones" just knew. Felser had called it since the very beginning and I mean it. Little Sasha had started sparkling with joy and didn't shut up about it for days, always trying (and failing) to stalk the couple. She was too happy that El Cid finally decided to have a life. Sisyphus became insufferable for the same reasons. Instead, the others never suspected anything: the doubt about capricorn having feelings at all was like a huge ham over their eyes.

Who still blushes when their partner compliments them?

You'd never guess it ;)

Who is most likely to check how their day is going?

When they were little kids training to reach the perfect blade, each in their own way, both often happened to forget about things like time etc... So the one that made sure nobody fainted from exhaustion was Felser. Then, growing up, the situation stayed the same got a little better. Now, Mine worked consistently less than him having left behind the obsession her dream had turned to, now she worked as sword-maker/sharpener in Rodorio -sometimes she even gave lessons to Lacaille-, but surprisingly El Cid is the one writing her more often asking for things like how the day at work is going, or just to hearing her complain about her clients. Mine writes more about the lines of "Did you remember to sleep this week between the trainings, you Spanish stakhanovite?"

(ok, the anachronism is necessary here)

Who gets jealous easiest?

None of them.

Who is the happy morning person and who is grumpy and just wants to go back to bed?

Starting from the fact that a "happy morning person" is more than not an aberration of nature (Kardia's words), the answer is that both are the grumpy type of morning people. Both Mine and El Cid are used to wake up to go and train at the crack of dawn since they were kids, but it doesn't mean they are happy about it. She is the one who complains loudly about it, but go ask Dohko what happens if he practices his new instrument at the early hours of the day. If you dare, I mean.

Who takes the longest to get ready and who is the most tidy and organised

Both are most tidy and organized, but El Cid reached a pathological level at it.

What annoys them the most about their partner? Would they change it if they could?

Mine is annoyed by his self destructive training schedule because she sees it is eating at him and plus they rarely get to spend a lot of time with each other because of it, but differently from Sysyphus and the others she does understand his motives and drive to become the holy blade himself. She literally consumed her whole soul for a similar goal, after all. She wouldn't change anything, though. Not even his emotional constipation.

El Cid could list a very long list of pranks that annoyed him. But nothing about her specifically. Only the fact that she let herself corrupt her noble dream in a demonic obsession. But he does not put it against her. It wasn't her fault, after all, she didn't want it, it just happened.

Who likes seeing the other wearing their t-shirt?

First of all, they don't even know what a t-shirt is. Secondly, she mostly wears women' kimonos (and quite revealing, now that we're at it), so I don't think it's a great mystery why they don't possibly exchange their clothes. Even if once Mine tried to bribe him during a bet, obviously, he vehemently refused and nothing could be done about it. Mine, instead, just doesn't like shirts.

Who plays pranks on the other?

Once, Mine used to sing in the shower with a very awfully shrieking voice with the sole goal of annoying his partner, who just happened to be a very light sleeper at the 3 am. Then, they were reported to the local police and she reluctantly stopped much to his relief.

Who says ‘I love you’ first?

El Cid. The trauma of seeing her revived as Phobetor's illusion and being forced to fight her to death broke every ounce of restraint left. As soon as they found each other again (because it's my AU and I can), that was the first thing he said. He couldn't take other blows on his too fragile heart. Risking waiting too much until she'd slip from his grasp again was out of question. By the way, he almost canonically said it in the end of the Gaiden so it's not too farfetched. She obviously understood this urgency and was delighted to declare that now they could really love and care for each other openly. In a real relationship. Then, she demanded a date, but this is another story.

Their reaction to the other beating them at something

Mine beats him at something: She gloats for the rest of the month, he's extremely annoyed and his pride battered, but he refuses to show it externally. If someone pokes him for it, though, he's met with a truly icy glare.

El Cid beats her at something: He looks like it couldn't go otherwise, Mine screams at him for a hour because he supposedly had cheated and then plans her revenge with Sasha. Because she embodies fair play.

Their favourite activity to do together

Talking about their shared dream and challenge each other at who reached the best results and showing their progresses.

The song that describes them the best

The Calling - Wherever you will go

Which one is most likely to get arrested?

Mine, definitely.

Who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror?

He's too mature for these things, she'd instead rather use more refined method of writing. Like a good old note written in bloodlike tomato sauce saying "Remember to go to the grocery store", or something like that, to make him have a heart attack in the morning. She says it wakes you up like nothing else. He just see them with a raised eyebrow.

One headcanon about this OTP that breaks your heart

Reality

One headcanon about this OTP that mends it (or the plot of the fanfiction I should've written but couldn't)

Mine doesn't disappear when Phobetor is defeated and the mirage of Catalania turns out to be just that, an illusion. Instead, she finds herself to have been really revived by the dream god's power, much to both her and his breathtaking happiness. It's something none of them even dared to dream, the possibility of having a future, even if the prospect of the Holy War still stood as a Damocles's blade on their neck. Lacaille just becomes their self-proclaimed adopted son, no matter how much El Cid protested that it was ridiculous (she supported him, btw). They arrive at the Sanctuary where she is immediately welcomed with a mix of curiosity and respect by most of its saints. Curiosity because nobody ever saw a Japanese woman and she not even was a saint. Respect because nobody in their right mind had ever imagined El Cid of all people bring a woman between them, so she had to be really special. However, she is friendly with everyone and soon becomes friend of Sysyphus (their favorite topic of complain about El Cid's habits) and then, the little Sasha when she was brought there a couple of years later. The girl was delighted to be with another woman, just like she was with Calbera. After the war, El Cid survives, always because I can, but he's affected in daily life by the loss of his dominant arm and just doubles his training schedule for making up to his handicap, although Mine herself often berates him for it worried about him. Sasha is deeply saddened to see his inability to adjust to a life that doesn't involve war and death and orders to both of them to go and live their lives together in any place they want, like free and ordinary people who deserve to live happily after all they were put through. Like she did with Yuzuriha and Yato in Jamir. Both understood it and tried to do their best to fulfill the goddess's wish, even if life isn't always without problems. They did manage to get a happy life together and that's what is important.

Asks weird questions in the middle of the night

Sysyphus. If it were a modern AU, he'd be the typical insecure friend who phones you at ungodly hours of the night to ask you advice about his problems. And El Cid would be the friend who at first would answer it (because it could be something important) and then leaving the phone in the fridge until the call expires. Mine just would be amused at their antics and frustrated her sleep was interrupted.

Who can't keep their hands to themselves?

Phantaso

What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

Ask Felser if you really want to know. It's your only hope, because their lips are sealed shut on mutual accord.

First impression of each other? Was it love at first sight?

Absolutely not (they both nod). When they first met they had a strange impression of each other, like the other was an alien, staring with a confusingly fascinated air that made Felser to chuckle, amused.

She was a Japanese little girl, so lithe and short that made people doubt she was that age, with strange red eyes that he had never seen before (he'd see them again only when Tenma'll cross his way). But after the initial surprise, he descovered she was a mischievous little pest, who loved getting him exasperated only for the satisfaction of snatching a reaction out of him, with the complicity of the oldest of them. But her dedication to her work as a sword sharpener was truly something to look up to. He really believed she'd manage to create the perfect blade infusing her soul in it, like he was trying to do to his body.

To her, instead, he had seemed like a little crow. A scrawny vampire-like-pallid kid with eyes too sharp and old for his age, too responsible and silent, the perspective of spending years training together seemed boring at the time. But his accent was funny, like he tried very hard to get rid of it and learning their common language, just the way she did with hers (in the meanwhile it was Felser who translated for them). As it was his grumpiness in the morning or the fact he was so unused to gentleness that the moment he received a good word or gesture immediately clung to it like a lifeline. But still, he was too rigid, even for her who was the same. A perfect Nagagire who needed her to enliven his brutal training sessions. After all, she's sure the best holy sword would be hers, but who says she can't have some fun in the process?

No, it definitely wasn't love at first sight. But despite the beginning, they gradually recognized in each other such a determination, a desire to go beyond their maximum limit, the same burning, inextinguishable, complementary dream both lived to fulfill (together, possibly) that attracted them like a magnet. The very Catalania was the tangible proof of that.

Does their work ever interfere with the relationship?

Read: Why do they need to have a serious chat?

[bespectacled-panda]

after seeing dumpywoof’s post I was inspired to do a tier list of my own!!! and boy howdy do I have some hot takes of the century it turns out,,,

the seasons are more or less organized in descending order within the same row as well (e.g. MC 4 > MC 5). also, shamefully copying dumpywoof & putting a detailed & overly verbose explanation for each season:

S Tier

Terraria 3: For me, absolutely nothing compares to Terraria 3. No other season combines such perfect participant dynamics with such heart-wrenching drama—not to mention the existence of Team New Kids who make me cry on a daily basis, or the incredible fake twist ending. It would be a sin to put this season anywhere but alone at the very top. Also props for being the only (1 of 2) post-show that actually includes all of the cast.

 A Tier

Minecraft 4: This is the best season for shenanigans alone, hands-down. It’s largely just the participants shooting the shit together, especially in the latter half of the season when it gets down to just the four of them. & I have a huge soft spot for men being wholesomely foolish together I suppose, so here it goes fhdhfhd.

Minecraft 5: To be honest, I have not seen this season since it released, which is a crime, I know, I’m sorry :orb: But I remember it being very very good, & I cannot imagine my taste will have changed that dramatically in just a few years, so. in truth, this one might be actually better than MC 4, but as I have not seen it in many years I can’t say that for certain. Either way, though, it’s definitely one of the best seasons out there.

MineZ 1: To me, MineZ 1 is the reverse of MC 4: low on shenanigans & high on drama. It’s pre-Todd era, but the editing in this one is honestly Todd-level, I would say. It’s so incredibly tense, especially the scene with McJones & PBG trying to escape the caves, and I feel like the sheer stress of it all brought out a new side of a lot of the participants, most notably Dean—who sounded genuinely agonized at times. A very very quality season all around, IMO.

Terraria 2: This season probably objectively deserves to be B tier, but I am it giving A tier for personal bias. I just,,, love the dynamics okay. Jeff & McJones especially made for a killer duo. It was a rare instance of McJones being the funny man himself rather than being the straight man to someone else’s funny man; he was super uncharacteristically goofy & almost borderline flirtatious at times, it really made for some good moments fhdhfjd. Plus then you got McJones solo commentary at the end which I greatly enjoyed. Just,, a very enjoyable season, very mid-HC era, very light & easy to watch, all that good stuff.

Diablo II: Man,,,,this absolutely 100% does not deserve A tier, I know, I’m sorry, but I just can’t bring myself to put it lower. I have A tier love for it :orb: Admittedly, the game is horrendously ugly and confusing to watch, but the shenanigans + the cast dynamics win me over in the end. Paul especially was great in this, & I hope he makes a return someday. Loving fathers Paul & Jirard with their sorceress son McJones making their way through the end-game just cannot be beaten. (Anti-shoutouts to Ross though, I don’t know anything about him, I am sure he is a lovely man, but GOD. WHY DID HE KEEP RUNNING OFF ON HIS OWN & GETTING LOST BUT THEN FORCEFULLY REFUSING HELP,,, ROSS YOU ARE THE WORST DHDHFJDJD)

 B Tier

Minecraft 7: Boy,,, this is going to be a controversial take fhhfjdjf. I just don’t know how to explain it, but something about MC7 felt,,,, Very off. I don’t know what it was, just something about the season seemed very,,, almost like you could tell things were falling apart behind the scenes, & they were trying to pull it back together but weren’t quite succeeding. It’s not a bad season in any regards, of course, I just,, don’t enjoy it nearly as much as a lot of others,, it’s missing that crucial spark of life in my opinion,, also Dean leaving to go to work was kind of strange,, I get it, it’s probably difficult to work around his real-life job,, but it felt strange,, he got like temporary immunity. Nothing like that had ever happened before I don’t think. And also they never even explained why Dean wasn’t there for like three episodes fjdjfjhd,,

Minecraft 3: God I feel like I just keep digging myself into a deeper & deeper hole here fhsjfjd,,, but man, I did like MC3 to be honest. It wasn’t the best season, it kind of went nowhere, but I liked the cast & there was a lot of good funnymoments. Smooth & Shane were very good guests who I feel like really rounded out the season, & Jontron did not come off as terribly overbearing as I believe that he has in other seasons. Overall, pretty decent, I’d say.

 C Tier

Minecraft 2: MC 2 & MC 3 are very similar, but I think MC 2 is slightly worse, both in terms of entertainment & cast. NCS & Kyrak did not hit like Smooth & Shane did,,, and I feel like just everything that happened in this one was fairly forgettable. I was torn as to whether this should be a B or a C, but I put it here in the end just to drive home that I really don’t like it as much as MC 3, I don’t believe.

Minecraft 6: Oh lord, this is a nuclear take fhdjfjd. Again, this isn’t a bad season at all, it has its good moments, especially Chad & Dodger, they are angels & I love them & want them back. But boy,,, just. Many things went wrong here. None of the twists panned out like,, at all, which I know isn’t necessarily anyone’s fault, the concept of this twist & of twists in general is very good. But it fell so flat here, especially with the revival. There was,, no debate at all about what to do. They hyped it up like they had this big decision to make, but then nobody made any effort to dramatize it at all. It was basically just Dean deciding by himself and everyone just sitting back & letting him. For the record, I have no qualms with the fact that Dodger was revived, I fully agree that she deserved it over McJones, but it was not played well at all IMO,,,      I do have to admit, though, with a fair amount of sheepishness, that the thing that most sullies this season for me is McJones’s death. Just,,, his horrible, so so avoidable, insanely early death, coupled with his retirement shortly thereafter & him becoming so jaded with hc that he expressed borderline hostility & hatred towards it just,,, hurts. I kinda don’t wanna see the events of MC 6 now knowing the aftermath. I understand fully that this particular point is not something most people care about to say the least dhfhdjd, but,,, in all honesty, I really don’t have any desire to rewatch this one, as objectively good as it might be. It was a win but it felt like a loss, if that makes sense. Also the post-show lacked all three people I actually wanted to hear from fhdjfjd neither the two people who could’ve been revived nor the actual person who did the reviving were there to share their insight & perspectives on it :pensive: 

 D Tier

Starbound: man,,, starbound. This is a very mixed bag for me. On one hand, I disagree with people who say that it was boring or that nothing happened, I found it very tense, Todd’s editing had me on edge throughout every episode. But on the other hand,,, man. Very few memorable moments, what even happened in this one,, also I feel like the game mechanics/plot weren’t explained very well, I feel like I remember being vaguely confused all the time as to what was happening. Probably will not ever rewatch either.

 Have Not Seen

DayZ: I will not ever be watching this season both because I do not know anything about DayZ & because from what I’ve heard it was an absolute disaster, I’m just not interested in getting involved in that fhdhfjdk

Terraria 1: There’s not really a reason I haven’t watched this one. Just,, I haven’t made my way down to the earliest seasons yet. Although as mentioned before, I have seen a few clips of this season, & Jontron seems to be pretty obnoxious in this one, so I don’t how much I’ll enjoy the parts with him in it, but I definitely do want to watch it someday.

Minecraft 1: The same as Terraria 1, I just happen to not have seen this one by chance. But unlike T1, I am much more looking forward to actually watching it, it seems really good, I want to experience that legendary very first season at last dhdhfjd

MineZ 2: Man,,, many things about the behind-the-scenes of this season make me sort of uncomfortable honestly. Just,,, the visceral second-hand shame & embarrassment of someone in the hc fandom being so rude & bothersome to the cast,, somehow it makes me feel personally responsible even though I didn’t do anything fhdjfj,,, Also,, once again continuing with the trend of me being saddened by McJones expressing dislike for seasons fhdjfjd,, I do recall him saying, regarding this season, something like “I think it would’ve been better if we just never did this,” which,,, ow. That doesn’t make me particularly enthused to watch it fhdjfjd. I probably will end up watching this season someday to be honest, but I’m not looking forward to feeling the cast’s frustration & unhappiness with the situation,, (EDIT: I want to be clear that there is no actual drama surrounding minez 2!!! it is a perfectly fine season, there is nothing wrong with it, it just happens that I personally am bothered by the fact that there was a lot of like,,, frustration coming from the participants regarding the player who was stalking them. this in no way means that minez 2 is an objectively bad or problematic season!! if minez 2 is your favorite season I completely respect you, there is nothing wrong with that!! there is a lot to like about the season as a whole!!! I just personally care too much about mcjones having a bad time in seasons bc it’s what ultimately led to his retirement, & that makes me sad fjdhfjdjd. but it has come to my attention that my wording made it sound like there was drama about minez 2, which there never actually was, I am very very sorry for my unintentional yet poor choice of words.)

[suckerforv]

     You inhaled deeply, the fresh cold air filling your lungs as you walked down the streets of Seoul. You had gone out for a walk, and you smiled as you remembered the scene of your lovely boyfriend, Hobi, doing the same thing in BTS World. Yes, you were dating not just one of BTS’s members, but seven! You loved all seven of them dearly, and they loved you just the same. Since then, you eight had made your relationship public, and while some thought it cute and adorable, many others found ways to harass you, but nobody had thought to physically hurt you, since you almost always had the boys with you… until now.

       “HEY!” a voice shouted, jerking you out of your thoughts.

   Startled, you turned around, only to face a group of girls who glared at you. “Can I help you?” you asked nervously.

   “Um, yeah. You can help by staying away from our oppas,” the leader of the group huffed, looking you up and down, her lips curling into a sneer. “Why would they choose you anyways?” she looked at you in disgust.

    “Yeah. You’re so fat, you’re too ugly for them.”

“Your skin is terrible. You should consider plastic surgery. I bet the boys are embarrassed to be hanging out with such a ugly girl like you.”

   “Your skin is even darker than mine, why would they date a darkie like you?”

  “You’re so fucking ugly, you should just die, that way you won’t see any of our oppas again.”

   “How did they even see you?”

“Your thighs are too fat, you must be a thousand pounds.”

   “You’ll never be as pretty as them.”

  You had had enough, and you started to walk away, tears forming in your eyes, but you refused to let them see you cry. But the leader yanked you back by snatching your wrist and threw you to the ground. “YOU STAY AWAY FROM OUR OPPAS, YOU HEAR ME???!!! YOU’RE JUST A BITCH, A SLUT!” she screamed in your face, which was already wet from the dew on the cement ground.

   The other girls started throwing mud at you, making you gasp as the mud stained your clothes. “Fuck off,” you spat coldly. The leader immediately punched your face, making blood pour from your nose and smiled in sadistic satisfaction.

   “That’s what you get for talking back to me, slut,” she spat, slapping you across the face. Tears fell from your eyes, and you prayed that someone, anyone, even another ARMY, to come and save you.

     “HEY! LEAVE HER ALONE!” a voice yelled, and you looked up wearily. It wasn’t one of the boys, and you struggled to see. “THE HELL SHE EVER DO TO YOU, HUH?!”

  The leader scoffed, about to throw a punch to the stranger’s face when the stranger spun around and kicked her in the face. “How’s that feel, bitch?!”

   The other girls gasped and glared at the stranger. “Who are you?”    “My name is Mia, a true ARMY fan who accepts the boys’ decision to date anyone, regardless of their size, race, appearance, and shape,” the girl snapped. “Now fuck off, because I have the whole recording here on my phone, of you girls harassing y/n, and I will give this to Bang PD,” she glared daggers at the girls, whose faces turned pale.

  “Please, please don’t! It’ll ruin my image!”

 “Please don’t, the boys will hate us if they found out!”

 Mia smirked and scoffed at the girls, who were helping their leader up from the ground. “You should’ve thought before, bitches. Ta-ta!” she threw them the middle finger before helping you off the ground, and walking you back to the dorm.

     You two walked in silence for a while, you sniffing every now and then. “Thank you for saving me,” you whispered, making Mia smile sympathetically. “I was so afraid nobody was going to-”

  “Hey,” Mia interrupted, making you look at her. “Whatever those mean bitches said, they’re just jealous of you. Jealous that you get to spend time with the most handsomest men on the planet! Girl, I’m even a little jealous myself!” she laughed again, then her face turned dead serious. “Y/n, you are beautiful, and don’t EVER let anybody tell you otherwise. I’m going to give the recording to Bang PD. It’s a serious thing if you get attacked by fans, y/n. And I’m sure the boys will not be happy if they don’t do something to prevent something like this happening again.”

     “Thank you, Mia,” you hugged her thankfully as you two arrived back at the dorms. “Would you like to come in, just for a little bit, because it’s really cold out there!”

   Mia thought for a bit, then nodded, a smile gracing her face. “Sure! I can’t stay long though, because I have to get back to my mom soon.”

     “Great! I want to do something to repay you for helping me,” you smiled back at her, leading her into the dorm, where you both took off your shoes and headed into the kitchen. As expected, Jin was at the stove, cooking, and immediately gasped when he saw your bruised body and face. “Y/N! What happened?” His face turned stone cold when he saw Mia. “Did she-”

   “Before you murder anybody, Jinnie, no, she didn’t do this to me. She saved me, and has the recording of the assault,” you replied, hugging him, and he immediately relaxed.

   “Yeah. I was walking home from school, and I saw across the street that she was getting harassed, and I recognized her from your guys’s VLives,” Mia answered to Jin’s questioning look. “I got up close, and I took a video so that you guys could identify the girls and hear their voices, too.” She waved her phone in the air and smirked. “That girl tried to punch me, but my black-belt karate skills had her on the ground in a split millisecond.”

    A group of boys tumbled down the stairs when they heard your voice and stopped short when they heard Mia speaking of this.

 “Y/n! What happened?” the boys rushed to you, hugging you, making you let out an “oomph”. Mia cooed at how cute you all were together, and the boys’ heads turned towards her, and her face flushed red.

  “Guys, this is Mia. She saved me from the saesang fans,” you explained so no one would murder her. Rolling your eyes when you saw Yoongi glaring at her suspiciously, you continued, “She was not stalking me, she was walking home from school, and she saw the girls harassing me on the other side of the street. She took a video, and then gave the leader what she deserved, ” you finished, giving Mia a thankful smile.

  The boys let out a sigh of relief and numerous “thank you”‘s and “i’m so glad you’re a supportive fan” flowed towards Mia, making her smile and bow. “It’s no problem. My parents have a poly relationship too, and I totally understand how it feels to get all the hate from numerous people. I just hope it all dies down soon.”

  Namjoon shook her hand, smiling so that his dimples showed. “Thank you very much, Mia. Not many fans are that supportive of our relationship, so I’m glad you’re understanding.”

  Mia smiled back. “It’s not a problem. By the way, I need y/n’s number.” Seeing the boys tense up, she snorted. “To send her the video of the girls harassing her. Jeez!”

  “Sorry, we just are very protective of her,” Namjoon scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

  Mia nodded, and you gave her number on a post-it. You thanked her, and she waved as she left the dorms.

   As soon as the door closed, the boys pulled you towards the sofa, where they all cuddled up to you, making you giggle. “Guys. I need to change and tend to my-” you winced as Hobi rubbed against your side, which was bruising, “injuries.”

  The boys got off of you quickly, making you roll your eyes at them. You hobbled to your bathroom, where you took a relaxing shower and changed into your pajamas. Jin then helped you with your injuries.

 “Ow!” you yelped as Jin touched up your knee with an alcohol wipe, glaring at him. “That hurts,” you sniffled.

 “I know, honey. I’m almost done,” Jin kissed your knee, making you giggle. Jin finished and carried you to the living room where the rest were waiting to cuddle. (of course.)

  “Why did you choose me?” you whispered.

“What do you mean, why?” Yoongi asked, frowning. “We chose you because you’re so kind, sympathetic, and compassionate towards everyone you meet.”  

   “I mean, I’m not even that pretty,” you sighed. “My skin is not that flawless, like your guys’s.”

“Nobody’s perfect, y/n, and we are no exception,” Namjoon raised himself up on one elbow as he looked at you. “We’re all human beings, and humans make mistakes.”

  “Wow, when did Namjoonie hyung get so philosophical?” Taehyung wondered out loud, making you all laugh.

  “It’s that sexy brain up in here, baby,” Namjoon smirked, pointing to his head, making you all burst out in laughter again.

   “Seriously, though, you’re pretty and beautiful in our eyes, y/n, and we wouldn’t trade you for anybody else,” Jimin booped your nose, making you giggle.

   “Jimin hyung is right. It’s not the outside that matters, it’s the inside that does. You could wear a trashbag and still be beautiful in our eyes, babe,” Jungkook caressed your cheek lovingly.

   “I’m so lucky to have you guys,” you told them. “Nobody really loved me my whole life like you guys do.”

   The rest of the night you were smothered in kisses, cuddles, and a move night with all eight of you cuddled against each other.

 “I love you all so much,” you breathed as you looked at all of them lovingly.

  “We love you too, y/n,” they all replied. Namjoon stroked your hand comfortingly. Together they echoed the words that you held close to your heart:

  “We’ll always be your comfort.”

[andiandyandee]

We Are Going to Be Friends Pt. 2

Yeah I know I literally just posted the first part don’t worry about it.

Words: 1333

Tag List: @princemesscharming @datfearlessfangirl @cas-is-a-hunter (i haven’t tagged you in the last few but you did ask to be tagged in the original. Let me know if you want to stay on the tag list, I don’t mind either way.) @illogicalthinking Let me know if you want tagged!

The Series on Ao3  | Last Words: Pt. 1 & Pt. 2  |  Run From What’s Comfortable | The Kids Will be Alright, Eventually.  | We Are Going to Be Friends: Part 1

Kay here’s the fic

As soon as the bell rang and Mrs. White dismissed them, Logan shot out of the room. He dropped his books off at his locker and headed toward the lunch room. L was already at a table with his friends, but he waved Logan over anyway. “There he is! Guys, this is my wonderful little-”

     “I’m four inches taller than you” L glared at him.

     “-Okay whatever, YOUNGER brother, Lo!” Everyone at the table waved, except two at the back who were looking at him slightly suspiciously. One of them spoke up,

     “Aren’t you the kid who pushed the Sanders twins this morning?” Logan blushed bright red. L raised his eyebrows and smirked at his brother.

     “How could you have possibly already gotten in a fight? You’ve been here five hours!” Logan opened his mouth to explain, but the other guy cut him off.

     “Oh no, it wasn’t a fight. They were in front of his locker and he just moved them. No struggle at all. Pushed ‘em aside like they weighed like, 40 pounds.” L snorted. 

     “I don’t know the Sanders twins well. They aren’t going to murder him or anything, right?” It was at that moment that said twins appeared behind Logan,   Remus scooping him up bridal style.  Logan let out what could only be described as a screech.  

     “Put me down, you great buffoon!” Roman laughed at that, but Remus just grinned. L shot to his feet, immediately trying to come to his brother’s rescue, but finding that there wasn’t much he could actually do. The twins started to walk towards a table that wasn’t too far away from where L and his friends were. “What do you think you’re doing‽” 

    “Kidnapping you! You’re sitting with us.” Remus said with a grin. Logan opened his mouth to argue, but was cut off. “No ifs, ands, or asses, Erlenmeyer Trash!” Logan raised an eyebrow.

    “I don’t think that’s the saying-” Remus cut him off.

    “I said what I said.” He unceremoniously dropped Logan into a chair at a table already occupied by an eclectic group of what Logan assumed were theater kids, jocks, and general preps. There were also two people with paint on their clothes and arms, who Logan assumed were either set designers or just particularly messy artists. “This is Logan, we’re keeping him.” Nobody at the table argued. Remus sat next to Logan, pulling out a grocery bag from his backpack. Roman did the same, both of the twins tossing them on the table and immediately passing out food to everyone sitting there. Roman sat an apple and water in front of Logan, and Remus handed him what looked like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “No food allergies, right?” Logan shook his head, bewildered. Everyone else at the table just took the food like this was completely normal. 

    “Uh, can I ask why-” One of the people with paint on them answered his question.

    “At some point last year we were all at The Sanders’ house and someone mentioned the food was totally inedible, so their Dad started packing lunches en masse. There’s pretty much always extras, so don’t worry, you aren’t taking anyone’s.” Logan looked even more confused at that. 

    “Your Dad just decided to feed an army of teenagers because school lunch food doesn’t taste good?” Roman shrugged and nodded. “Isn’t that, oh I don’t know, incredibly expensive?” The same kid who answered Logan’s question laughed. 

        “Dude. Sanders. Like, Thomas Sanders.” They said, as if that was an answer in and of itself. 

    “Like.. Actor, Thomas Sanders?” Logan asked, staring at the twins who were nodding, already eating their food. “Well, I guess that explains the dramatics, then.” Logan snorted, and the rest of the table let out laughs of varying degrees. Roman scoffed. 

    “You have room to talk. You literally stomped through a group of people and shoved us just so you could hang up your jacket!” Logan had the sense to look slightly embarrassed at that. 

        “Ah- sorry, about that. I wasn’t in a great mood. No coffee this morning.”  The table laughed again, and the group fell into easy conversation. Logan was surprised that even though all of the people seemed to be older than him, and had clearly been friends for a while, they easily added him into their conversations, immediately teasing and joking with him like they had known him as long as everyone else. It was nice. 

    After lunch, the group split up again, and Logan headed back to his locker. L was standing there with a smug look on his face. “Soo… I see you’re making friends. What happened to ‘high schoolers are all immature and ridiculous, and I refuse to bother myself with them’, huh? You seem to have bothered yourself with like twelve of them. ” Logan groaned. 

    “ I did no such thing. I was kidnapped.” He opened his locker and grabbed the notebooks and folders he would need for his last two classes. “And besides, I think they only asked me to sit with them because I told Remus I would help him with our English class.” Logan admitted. He hadn’t made the connection until he started speaking, but it seemed obvious now that he thought of it. It wasn’t friendship, it was convenience. 

    “I don’t know if that’s true, buddy-” Someone came up behind them, dropping a hand on Logan’s shoulder. He turned and was met with a few of the people from the lunch table. 

    “Hey, Lo! What class are you heading to now? Is it a freshman class or-” 

    “I’m going to Biology, with Mr. Stewart.” Two of them in the back ‘wooped’ at that. Logan thought their names were Kai and Elliot. They were the two artists. “Why.. woop?” The one who had asked, was his name Evan?, groaned. 

    “Damn, I’m going to pre-calc with Sloane. I was hoping you would be in that class too, literally nobody I know is in there.” He glanced at Elliot and Kai. “I think the woop was because they’re in class with you.” Evan laughed. “What about last period? Who do you have?” Logan checked his schedule. 

    “Uh, trig with Mr. Padley.” Evan nodded.

    “Yeah, we just call him Sloane. He’s a cool dude. Anyone gonna be in that class with Lo?” The group shook their heads. “Daamn, that sucks dude. Anyway, see ya later!” Evan waved, heading off towards the math wing with most of the group. Kai and Elliot stayed behind. Logan was mildly surprised, but simply waved his goodbye to his brother, who had a big grin on his face, and walked with them to their shared class. 

    The classroom was set up at high top tables, three stools to a table, much to Logan’s relief. That meant that whoever he sat with would have someone else to talk to, and he wouldn’t have to make friends with someone in order to keep the peace if their seats they picked today became their permanent places. He was glancing around the room, trying to decide where to sit when he heard his name being called. Kai was looking at him like he was losing his mind. 

    “You gonna come sit down, or are you waiting for a written invitation, Lo?” He laughed. Elliot rolled their eyes.

    “He probably doesn’t want to sit next to you, loser. Trade me spots.” Kai pretended to be offended as Logan slowly made his way over to them.

    “Apologies. I did not realize I was welcome to sit with you.” Logan said quietly, setting his notebooks down in the far corner so he wouldn’t be in Kai’s way. 

    “What, did you think we were going to make you sit by yourself?” Elliot looked genuinely confused. Kai had a similar look of confusion on his face. 

    “Well, I uh-” It was at that moment Mr. Stewart came in, immediately going into how he would tolerate ‘No Nonsense’, so the conversation was cut short, saving Logan from embarrassing himself again.

Pls comment and reblog and like I crave human interaction.