#they have a couple more similarities but I’m not gonna give that away just yet

[dulcewrites]

Thinking about the parallels/smiliarities between Maeve and Alyssa Velaryon (a clear through line I’m trying to have).

- Velaryon woman that marries a Targaryen prince

- Political strife during their marriage

- (pseudo in Alyssa’s case) step daughter to a woman who moves to put her son on the throne.

- Marriage is a political match

- caught in family turmoil revolving around half siblings

- described as having “charm, wit, and kindness”. (“According to Septon Barth, above all else Alyssa desired to be loved, admired, and praised”)

- married to men that had their abilities as king doubted (by others and themselves)

- married to men with deep and complicated attachments to their mothers

[chiyuuchu]

i loved so close yet so far a lot 🥰🥰 it was so cute, would you consider writing a part 2?

II. so close yet so far <3 (9th August 2024)

Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Prompt! Everyone can see it but them.

first part here!

You and Katsuki had always been close—closer than most. From the outside, your bond was something everyone admired, even envied. But as time went on, something began to shift between you two.

You started noticing the small things more—how his hand lingered a little longer on yours, how his gaze softened when he thought you weren’t looking, and how your heart raced whenever he was near. But no matter how much you tried to push these feelings down, they only seemed to grow stronger.

Katsuki noticed it too. He’d never been one to shy away from his emotions, but when it came to you, it was different. You were his best friend, the one constant in his life, and the idea of messing that up terrified him. So, he kept his feelings buried, pretending that everything was normal even when it was anything but.

It wasn’t long before your friends started to notice. Kirishima, Mina, Sero, and Kaminari would give you knowing looks whenever Katsuki did something sweet for you—something that was becoming more and more frequent. You’d hear them whispering when they thought you weren’t listening, talking about how ��the whole world can see it” except for the two of you.

“Seriously, Y/N,” Mina said one day during lunch, leaning across the table with a smirk.

“You and Katsuki are like, the most obvious couple ever. Just admit it already.”

You laughed it off, trying to hide how her words made your heart race. “We’re just friends, Mina.”

Mina rolled her eyes. “Sure, and I’m a pro hero already. Come on, Y/N, it’s so obvious you’re both into each other. What’s stopping you?”

You hesitated, glancing over at Katsuki, who was sitting a few tables away with Kirishima. “What if I’m wrong? What if he doesn’t feel the same way and I ruin everything?”

Mina’s expression softened. “I get it, but you have to ask yourself if staying in this weird limbo is really better than taking a chance.

The way you two are going, it’s only a matter of time before one of you slips up.”

Across the cafeteria, Katsuki was having a similar conversation with Kirishima.

“Come on, man, it’s obvious how you feel about her,” Kirishima said, nudging Katsuki’s shoulder. “Why not just tell her?”

Katsuki scowled, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what if she doesn’t feel the same way? What then, huh? You expect me to just act like everything’s fine after that?”

Kirishima sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re both so stubborn. But, Katsuki, you can’t keep pretending forever. Eventually, it’s gonna hurt more to keep it in than to just say it.”

For the next few days, you and Katsuki danced around each other, both too afraid to make the first move. Your friends watched in exasperation as you continued to deny what was so obvious to everyone else.

It all came to a head one evening when you found yourself alone with Katsuki in his room, studying for an upcoming exam. The tension in the air was palpable, and every time your hands brushed or your eyes met, it felt like the world was holding its breath.

“Katsuki…” you started, breaking the silence. “Do you ever feel like… there’s something we’re not saying?”

Katsuki froze, his heart pounding in his chest. He knew exactly what you were implying.

“I..umm..” He started. And before he could open his mouth once more Kaminari and Sero barges in the room. “Guys! You have to see this! We just found out that— oh.. are we interrupting something.” Kaminari trails off.

The days continued in their hesitant rhythm. Katsuki and you maintained your usual routine—training together, hanging out, sharing late-night talks—but with a layer of unspoken tension simmering beneath the surface.

One evening, after a particularly intense training session, you both found yourselves alone in the common room. Katsuki sat on the couch, his usual scowl softened as he watched you. You were curled up in a chair, trying to read a book but clearly distracted.

Katsuki’s mind raced as he watched you, the same thoughts swirling around: how close you were, how comfortable and yet distant you both felt. He knew his friends were right. They could see it, but he was too afraid to act on it. His internal battle raged until he couldn’t take it any longer.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

You looked up, startled by the question. “Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to figure something out,” he said gruffly, though his tone lacked its usual harshness.

You hesitated, then sighed. “Maybe because I am trying to figure something out.”

Katsuki’s heart skipped a beat, but he quickly masked his surprise with a snort. “Hmph. What’s there to figure out? It’s not like anything’s changed.”

“That’s the problem,” you said quietly. “Things have changed. I feel like… like something’s different, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

Katsuki’s chest tightened. He knew what was different but couldn’t bring himself to say it. Instead, he tried to play it off. “Maybe you’re just imagining things. You’re always overthinking.”

“Maybe,” you said, looking away. “Or maybe it’s just hard to ignore what’s right in front of me.”

Katsuki’s heart pounded in his chest. He wanted to tell you so badly, but the fear of ruining everything kept him silent. He stood abruptly, trying to hide his emotions. “Whatever. I’m heading to bed.”

You watched him leave, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that the feelings were there, but neither of you were willing to take that leap. As you lay in bed that night, the familiar sense of longing mixed with frustration settled over you.

The next day, during training, your friends noticed the lingering tension and decided to take matters into their own hands. Kirishima and Mina cornered Katsuki after practice, their faces serious but determined.

“Listen, Bakugou,” Kirishima said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve got to do something. You can’t keep dancing around this.”

Mina nodded. “Yeah. It’s obvious that you both care about each other. If you don’t act soon, you might lose your chance.”

Katsuki’s face reddened. “I know, damn it. But it’s not that simple.”

Mina crossed her arms. “It is that simple. You both clearly like each other. Just talk to her.”

Katsuki sighed, feeling the weight of their words. “Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

That evening, after another training session, Katsuki found you alone in the common room. He took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage he had been lacking.

“You still figuring things out?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You looked up, a mixture of hope and nervousness in your eyes. “Maybe. Or maybe I just need to hear it from you.”

Katsuki’s heart raced. He swallowed hard, the words caught in his throat. “Look, Y/N… I don’t want to mess things up. We’ve been friends for so long, and I don’t want to ruin that.”

You stepped closer, your gaze softening. “Katsuki, if there’s something more between us, I’d rather know than live with the uncertainty.”

Katsuki met your eyes, the walls he had built up slowly crumbling. “I… I care about you, a lot. More than just a friend.”

Your heart soared, and a relieved smile spread across your face. “I care about you too, Katsuki. I was just too afraid to say it.”

For a moment, there was silence, but it was filled with a new understanding. Katsuki took your hand, his grip firm but gentle.

“Then let’s stop pretending,” he said quietly. “Let’s just be honest with each other.”

You nodded, feeling a sense of peace wash over you. “Yes, let’s.”

In that moment, the fear and uncertainty melted away, replaced by a newfound clarity and connection. As you stood there, hand in hand, you both knew that the next step would be different, but it was a step you were both ready to take together.

[sugarandspisces-writes]

Coffee + Crosswords

Pairing: Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Summary: It's Friday at Abbott and you spend a slow morning in the break room with Melissa and Janine.

Word Count: 3.3k

If you were to ask anyone at Abbott what their favorite day of the week was, they were guaranteed to say Friday. Unless you were to ask Barbara Howard. She would not hesitate to tell you that her favorite day was Sunday. Nonetheless, Friday was a day that everyone enjoyed because it meant the weekend was around the corner.

It was a day when things slowed down, and you could step away from the week's stressors and just breathe. Plus, if you were on top of things, you didn’t have to worry about grading papers or making lesson plans for a couple days. But you knew better than anyone that it didn’t always work out that way. Sometimes you still had work left to complete on the weekends no matter how productive you’d been at work.

The students also loved Fridays because learning for the week was done. The biggest task they had to accomplish was showing that they understood the material being taught. Your second graders loved the end of the week because they looked forward to taking their spelling tests. However, today was not about taking tests. The end of the first semester was approaching, and most teachers were counting down the days. It seemed like a lifetime away, and everyone was looking for a way to make the time go by faster. The strategy beloved by the kids, and their teachers if you were being honest, was to have a movie day. For you, there was something nostalgic about watching movies at school. It made you miss the days you were in your kids’ shoes.

It was around 10 o’clock, and you sat in the teacher’s lounge while your kids attended art class. Melissa was in the lounge with you since it was her free period, and you knew Janine was bound to show up at any moment since it was her break as well. You sat at the table near Melissa’s and talked about the events of your day. 

You’d been teaching alongside the woman for over a year, yet you struggled to find your footing around her. One moment she seemed to enjoy your company, and the next she didn’t pay you any mind. However, she was up for discussion today, and the content of your conversation surprised you. She was following up on an issue you’d brought to her attention a few weeks back.

“Did you ever get that stuff figured out with your student?” She pulled her eyes away from the TV and focused on you.

“Oh, um, kind of.” Truthfully the answer was no, but you'd been holding onto hope.

Parent-teacher conferences recently took place, and you spoke with the parents of a student who struggled with math. Despite the effort you’d put into gathering the evidence–worksheets, quizzes, and even standardized test scores–they didn’t believe their child was struggling. Since Melissa had gone through a similar situation, you asked for advice.

Her face scrunched in confusion at your uncertainty. “What's that s'posed to mean?”

“Well, they’re still not budging, so…” You shrugged before slumping into your chair.

“So, what?” Melissa’s shoulders copied your actions, though hers were more pronounced. Her jacket rustled with the movement, the silver hardware clanking against each other. “You just gonna give up?”

Immediately, your posture straightened at the insinuation of admitting defeat. “What? No, I never said that!”

She wasn’t fond of quitters, so your reaction rubbed her the wrong way. “You coulda fooled me.”

Everything you tried had seemingly failed, and as a new teacher, that was discouraging. You’d never give up on your students though, so you had to see it through. “I’m in the process of putting a plan together.”

“Did you get in touch with the math interventionist?” That was one of her recommendations, and she wanted to know if you followed through.

“Yes, and they’re gonna work with him during the summer. You know they have an outreach program for the kids, but it depends on his parents' compliance. They're not gonna let anyone work with him if they don't see an issue.” She nodded in understanding, prompting you to continue on. “If not, they told me they'd work with him at the beginning of next year so he wouldn't slip too far behind, but I’ll believe it when I see it.” Since the district was short-staffed, the schools had to share resources. It was extremely inconvenient, but you had to make do with what you had.

She was pleased that you took her advice and that she wasn't just flapping her gums for the hell of it. “At least that’s something. It shows they're trying, you know?” 

You sighed, upset at the fact that you were still at odds. “I guess, but I feel so bad. He’s having a really hard time, and he gets so frustrated with it. I’m afraid he’ll just give up. Especially since his parents aren’t on the same page.”

She agreed with the point you were making. “There's potential for that to occur, but it’s not a reflection of your teaching abilities.”

“It is though, isn’t it?” It was your responsibility to educate, so wouldn’t the blame rest on you?

“Not necessarily. We do what we can, but we aren’t always capable of filling in the gaps. Sometimes we have to recruit additional forces. It doesn’t make us failures 'cause we couldn’t do it on our own.”

You worked hard to ensure that your students were motivated to learn. If they ever lost their drive, you wouldn’t hesitate to help them regain it–even if it meant you had to spend time with them before or after school. Melissa’s words helped you realize that your setback didn’t stem from a lack of proficiency. “You’re right. It just sucks.”

“When have you known me to be wrong?” She smirked.

“Oh, whatever.” You rolled your eyes, still finding yourself laughing nonetheless.

“But seriously, it’s nothing you can’t handle. I know it’s tough, but you’re doing a wonderful job.”

You had no idea she noticed your teaching endeavors, though you should have known. She kept tabs on just about everyone and everything in your place of work. “Oh, wow. Uh, thanks.” You weren't sure what to say, not knowing if it was a compliment or simply an astute observation.

“Don’t thank me. Just keep doing what you’re doing. He’s lucky to have someone like you fighting for him.”

You smiled now, basking in the unmistakable praise. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”

“I’m gonna make another cup of coffee. You want some?” She stood from her seat, eyeing you as she awaited your answer. 

“Nah, I'm good.” You shook your head, remembering that it wasn’t even noon and you’d already indulged in a few.

You absentmindedly scrolled through your phone as she busied herself with brewing a fresh pot. There wasn’t much to look at, so you opened the newspaper before you. You flipped through the pages, skimming some of the articles, then landed on the crossword section.

You’d been into word games lately, mostly playing apps on your phone, but you'd take advantage of the physical version today. Until Janine joined you two this would occupy your time. By the time the coffee was done brewing, you’d finished most of the puzzle but found yourself stuck. 

“Blank Hurts, quarterback for the Philadelphia Eagles.” You read it more times than you could count before releasing a huff. It was the last answer you needed to complete the puzzle, and it was putting you through the wringer.

Melissa came to retrieve her creamer from the fridge and caught a glimpse of what you were doing. She squinted to get a closer look at the small print before pulling her glasses over her eyes. As soon as she read it, the answer was clear. She could only chuckle while watching you struggle. You were a Philly native, so to her, it was amusing that you didn’t know the players on your home team. When your huffing and puffing continued, she couldn’t bear the sound any longer.

“Jalen.” She uttered from behind you, solving your short-lived distress.

You glanced over your shoulder and met with the sight of her—arms crossed over her chest, glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, and a grin tugging at her lips. 

“Huh?”

Her heeled boots thumped against the linoleum flooring as she came into your direct line of vision. It wasn’t long before she stood next to you, mere centimeters away.

When she spoke again, her manicured finger was pointed at your phone. “Jalen Hurts. That’s the answer.” 

You almost couldn’t process the words she spoke. Your senses were taken over by her amber perfume, the sweet, warm undertones paired well with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. After gaining enough resolve to write, you jot letters into the spaces. 

She retreated to the other side of the room before you could say anything else, but quickly returned with a surprise. She slid a steaming cup of coffee across the table, propelled by a gentle hand. “You’ve got to be the only person who doesn’t know who that is.”

You frowned, but it was impossible to argue with her. Football was the least interesting sport in your opinion. Mainly because you didn’t understand a thing that was going on. “We can’t all be connoisseurs like you.”

“It’s common knowledge, hon.”

“Okay, Vince Lombardi,” you teased, referring to the woman as one of the NFL greats. That much you knew. “Thanks for the answer–and the coffee.”

“You owe me, big time,” she joked. “I made it how I like mine. If you think it’s gross feel free to toss it.”

“Are you crazy? I’d never waste a cup of caffeine.” Especially one you made for me, you wanted to add, but didn't thanks to your better judgment.

You sipped the warm beverage as you thought about your little interaction. It took a minute or two for your brain to reset to its previous level of performance. The organ worked double time to get her out of your head, but she managed to make a lasting image.

She was a woman of details, always so well put together. The all-black outfit paired with her array of gold jewelry was a classy, yet powerful choice. Her makeup was done perfectly, and her green eyes were adorned with the sharpest winged liner you'd ever seen. Striking red hair followed suit, strands curled neatly with color-coordinated cat-eye frames resting atop her head, giving the impression of an effortless blowout. She had a certain je ne sais quoi about her that intrigued you to no end.

You glanced over your shoulder once you heard the door swinging open. Janine walked in and smiled as she saw you and Melissa. She waltzed over to the table and her skirt flowed graciously behind her with the movement. 

“Hi, guys!” She greeted the two of you. “Guess who caught up on all their grading?”

You exchanged hellos and excitement for the teacher as she made her way to the fridge. When she rounded the table with her snack, she stood firmly beside you and playfully nudged your shoulder.

“Whatcha doing?” she asked as she began to eat.

“Nothing much,” you sighed, “I just finished this crossword.”

“Oh, you did the one on the paper! I always did that as a kid.” She shared, smiling at the memory. She knew you were on a crossword kick recently and that you completed multiple every day.

“There was a clue on there about football, which I know nothing about.”

“That makes both of us.” She laughed before sitting in the seat next to you. “I may know a little more than you, though. At least I know what the players look like.” 

“I know what some of them look like!” And by some, you meant none, but Janine already knew that. “Melissa helped me though.” You nod your head toward the woman's direction.

Janine looked at you with a glint taking over her eye that only you could read. You knew she was making a mental note to ask about the interaction later when it was just you and her.

“Oh! Melissa.” Janine smiled as she said her name, elongating the ending. “Are you ready for game night?”

Janine had planned a bonding activity for the teachers, like she did occasionally, in hopes that it would help everyone destress from their busy schedules.

“I’m ready to kick all your butts. Again.” Melissa was undefeated in a few games and took pride in that.

“Someone’s cocky,” Janine glanced at you.

“Nuh uh,” she waved her finger around. “It’s called confidence. Maybe if youse had more of it, you’d be able to beat me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t play to win,” Janine stated with a satisfied smile. She always claimed that she was only there to have a good time, which in return received an eye roll from everyone.

“Yeah, that’s what all the losers say.” She moved her hand in a circle to emphasize the word ‘all’. She then stood up and pushed her chair underneath the table. “Now, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go find a movie for my kids to watch.”

As soon as she heard the door close, Janine turned to look at it for confirmation that Melissa was out of earshot. “So, Melissa helped you with your crossword, huh?”

“Oh my gosh, Janine.” You chuckled at her insinuation, noting the toothy smile she displayed. She had an inkling that Melissa liked you, but that was an overstatement.

“What?” She looked at you quizzically, though she knew exactly what you were trying to say.

“Yeah, so?” You shrugged nonchalantly, keeping eye contact with her. “She also gave me some more advice regarding the situation with my student.”

A look of "I told you so" crossed the woman's face. “Didn't I say it'd be a good idea to ask her? You should listen to me more often.”

“And she may or may not have made coffee for me.” You casually brought the mug to your lips, eyes closing at the pleasant taste. By some supernatural powers, she had made school coffee enjoyable.

The teacher gasped and her hand clutched your arm, startling you a bit. “Really? Oh my gosh!”

“Janine, please,” you pulled your arm from her grip. “You’re acting like a child.”

“Oh, whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “You know you love it.”

Though you tried to stave off your giddy expression, you cracked. “Must you have to read into everything?”

“Only the things that matter. Like how you're drinking out of her favorite mug.” She pointed at the cup, noting the teal and black ombré design.

“Now you're just making stuff up.”

“Are you kidding me? You cannot be this oblivious!” There was no way she was reading too deep into things.

“It's not oblivion. I'm just being logical.”

“How far has that gotten you?” A hand popped over her hip as she quirked an eyebrow toward you.

“Oh, hush.” You pouted.

During your time at Abbott, you and Janine developed a special relationship. You were a first-year teacher and Janine was in her second year, so you bonded over being new to the field. Teaching was hard for you to navigate in the very beginning. While Janine was still fairly new to teaching, she had learned a lot and grown tremendously in her first year. She was very resourceful and she shared a lot of her tips and tricks with you. Whenever you felt your insecurities getting the best of you, she would always be there to pick you up. 

Because the two of you had become so close, she knew how you felt about Melissa. Janine was very attentive, and you couldn’t get anything past her. She could tell that being around Melissa made you nervous. It wasn’t because you were intimidated by her—you had gotten over that feeling within the first few months of working with her. You were drawn to her tough nature and how the energy shifted when she walked into a room. She was intelligent and had a great personality once you broke through her icy exterior. 

Since the beginning of the year, all you wanted was to impress her, but every time you tried, you just embarrassed yourself. For a while, you weren’t sure why you cared so much. You didn’t know why what she thought mattered until you came to a conclusion halfway through the school year. It all mattered because you liked her. It was a strange thing to come to terms with, but you decided to let the feelings run their course. There was no harm in that, right?

“She's just in a good mood today. I’m 99% sure she sees me as the kid that teaches the same grade as her.”

“That’s not true,” Janine assured you, but she knew how Melissa could be. The woman had to warm up to you before she showed her true colors.

“It is and you know it.” You said affirmatively.

“She’ll come around.” She spoke as if she knew something you didn't.

You looked at her with doubtful eyes and you could see her facial expression change as she thought of an idea. Uh oh.

“I could put you and her on the same team tonight,” Janine said in a sing-songy voice. “Name a better way to get her to warm up to you.” She waited for you to answer, but you were heavily against this. Janine was the proud organizer of game night, which meant she was in charge of making the teams. 

“I could actually think of several, much better ways.” You enlightened her. “She would eat me alive if we lost.” You were not competitive, and you knew winning was important to Melissa.

“Oh, come on, Y/N!” Janine practically whined. “It’ll be fine.”

“No.” You said firmly, standing from your chair as you noticed the time. You had to retrieve your kids from the art teacher in five minutes. Janine followed your lead and walked out of the lounge trailing behind you. You couldn’t even see her and you knew that she was sulking.

“Quit doing that.” You laughed, looking in the direction of the shorter woman. “It’s not gonna make me say 'yes'.”

“But–” She started but was cut off within seconds.

You whipped around to face her. “Remember what happened at the last game night? When you made her draw eight cards during Uno?”

Janine didn't answer though she knew exactly what you were talking about.

“Don't worry, I’ll refresh your memory. She ended up losing and didn’t speak to you for weeks. Weeks! I can't risk that.”

Janine ended up getting the victory and despite that, it was not a good night for her. “It’s fine, now.” Granted, she wasn't sure if it was, but it seemed like it.

“No. I refuse to let her give me the cold shoulder because of you.” It wasn't even about the crush at this point. You worked closely with her and wanted nothing to compromise that. Besides, she could hold a grudge like her life depended on it.

“Fine, I won’t do it.” Janine relented, though it seriously pained her. She believed wholeheartedly that she could shift the dynamic between you and Melissa.

Though she was defeated, something told you she wasn’t letting go. “Thank you,” you said before heading in the opposite direction to pick up your class.

 “But let me know if you change your mind!” She added as you walked away.

That statement alone made you less confident in her ability to leave it alone. Though she meant no harm, she was hopeless. You knew she'd be fighting tooth and nail not to go against her word. Of course, she wanted to honor your wishes, but once she was set on a plan there was no going back.

Sure, Fridays were a fan favorite, but something told you this one would be the death of you.

A/N: Hello, Hello! This is just a little something to start your week off right. It's been sitting in my drafts for a while and I wanted to get it out. Also, part two of Kiss It Better is on the way! Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

[itsstrange]

Pool Of Lube

Fandom: The Boys, Karl Urban Stans

Relationship: Karl Urban x Reader

A/N: Something That Has Been Dusting In My Notes and That Is Going To Be Part of Random Adventures. Something Funny & Cute! I Hope Ya’ll Will Enjoy These! 💚

Summary: Just Another Adventure That The Reader Has While Working On The Set of The Boys.

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: (No) Fluff, Cute, Humor, Funny, Injuries, Reader and Their Adventures, Slightly Injured Reader, Supportive Karl, Slight Mention of Blood, Missing Tooth..

—————

ENJOY! 💚

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<< Previous Adventure

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“I’m gonna fall into a pool of what?”

“Pool of lube. You’ll also be doing a fight scene,”

Your eyes dart from Eric to the writers, then back at Eric, “I’m gonna fight.. in a pool.. of lube?”

“Yeah,” The man nods with a dangerous, overexcited, wide smile,

You couldn’t do anything other than stare at him with a grim look. You were clearly regretting in even considering joining the team, you definitely now regretted accepting Eric’s offer to being a part of The Boys. Yet, deep down you knew you didn’t mean it.

“You’ve got issues Kripke,” Is all you say before sighing in defeat. Picking up your script you rise from your chair to leave the room,

Eric only chuckles as he yells out after you, “See you Thursday!”

That was Tuesday morning. It was barely 6:50 am— not even 7:00 am when you had to meet up with him and the writers in the office to discuss minor changes to your schedule for the week, but little did you know you’d only be getting awaiting trauma.

Now coming Thursday, here you were on set observing the hand-built mansion. You currently stood in what seemed to be the living room section of the set with house lights flashing around the room, smog being blown on the floor to make it look more like a house party, because that’s what it was. The scene you were currently about to shoot was taking place in a mansion where a party was being thrown by a couple of Supes, which is where your character and the rest of the gang come in. The Boys were looking for a certain Supe to interrogate to give them more information about another Supe who supposedly had confidential evidence against Homelander, however, in order to find said Supe, your character and the rest of The Boys had to crash the party.

The scene was semi similar to Herogasm, only difference was it was less nudity and more action packed, which eventually results into a full blown brawl inside the home and also results in you fighting in said a pool of lube.

“Fucking Kripke,” You whisper to yourself as you see team members pouring gallon after gallon of lube inside a medium-ish size pool,

You’ve done pretty crazy stuff for other shows, movies, even music videos at some point, but nothing will ever, ever compare to the wild shit you’ve done while working on The Boys. Ever. This show has definitely gave you some trauma and nightmares from what the things you’ve done, (joking of course) but it’s definitely something you still haven’t gotten use to, despite working on the show since the beginning of season two and having done wild shit since then.. Kripke always manages to rethink your life choices when it comes to being apart of the show. (Joking once again. Kinda… not really).

As you stood a few feet away from the set being prepped, you watched as team members continued to pour gallons of lube inside the pool, then switched your gaze to other team members fixing other parts of the set or just adding a couple more things on the floor. You were practically ready to shoot. You had your costume on for the shot, you just had to wait till the set was ready and for Kripke to find the angles he wanted to shoot. So as you stood waiting, mind constantly wondering why you haven’t quit you hear footsteps walking towards you. Then a familiar voice.

“So what exactly are you shooting today?” You hear Jensen’s voice, a little confused but also teasing at the same time,

Looking over your shoulder you catch his eyes for second before your gaze almost immediately locks onto familiar hazel orbs. He walked alongside the Texan. Both men had their own costumes on, looking handsome as ever, but it was him that remained swooning you by just his goddamn smile, charisma, humor, love.

Both men walk towards you, but it was him who kept his eyes on you with a wide smirk on his face. You couldn’t help the heat that rises on your cheeks, causing you to roll your eyes at him with a shake of your head, smile forming on your face when the son of a gun doesn’t even try.

“Hell Ackles. Pure utter hell,” You comment, smile still on your lips but feeling it widen when you feel him next to you, then his hand settling on your lower back,

Turning to your left you lock eyes with him once again. His irises casting a beautiful green shadow with a splash of brown in them. The smirk was still displayed on his lips.

“Okay guys! Here’s the plan!” Kripke announces with a clap of his hands, breaking the small moment, “We’re gonna shoot the fight scenes first, grab a few angles from different sections of the set, and little bit of dialogue, then straight to the lubricant,”

The man excitedly explains. A bright light flashing in his eyes as he goes over the plans for the day. A look only a kid would get when walking into their favorite toy store. You won’t lie, you were rather excited to shoot today. You always enjoyed filming with the gang, especially fight scenes considering your character was a Supe and not only because you got to do a lot of action scenes but also because you were an adrenaline junkie. You craved and sought for action. You’re always looking forward to filming whenever it came to action scenes or single shots of you “flying” or landing on the ground. You just loved it.

However, despite your love for filming adrenaline moments, you were in fact not looking forward to the later scenes. The scene where you’ll be covered in slimy, slippery, cold lubricant. Which, you’d like to point out, you had to fight in said lubricant. How would that look? You weren’t sure and you didn’t want to know.

“Any questions? Comments? Concerns?” Eric questions with wide, excited eye balls,

You stare at him with a deadpan look, then look over his shoulder when you see team members with more gallons of lube. You were beginning to grow worried because… like what the fuck was he planning on doing with the remainder of those gallons?! Making it rain?!

Oh fuck. He probably is.

“Yeah..,” You begin, pointing a lazy finger behind his shoulder, “Is.. all that really necessary Eric?”

Everyone looks in the direction you were pointing. Noticing how people kept stacking gallons of lube on the side of the set. Earning a worried yet amusement agreement from Jensen, but a soft chuckle from him.

“It really is actually. Since we’ll have the air conditioner on practically all day today it’ll dry everything up, so we’ll be pouring more in between scenes to keep it nice and fresh,” Eric says with a smile then finishes with, “Plus, I cut a deal with Durex,”

You stare at him with a slight, worried, weary, wary, disgusted look. Yet, before you can comment on the monstrous gallons of lube again, someone is calling the man from across set. So with another quick run-through of the plan and making sure everyone is on board, he quickly jogs to a crew member where they immediately dive into conversation. Who are most likely talking about getting everyone ready to start filming.

“Well.. despite the trauma you’ll experience today. It really is great seeing Kripke expand his imagination,” You hear Jensen comment, knowing a proud smile is displayed on his face,

You scoff with a shake of your head, “Think he’s expanding it too much these days,”

Your comment earns a chuckle from both men this time. But feel the way he gives your hip a comforting squeeze before feeling him pull you closer to his side. Getting a whiff of his delightful cologne.

“Whoa, who and what is being expanded?” You hear another familiar voice settle on your right, turning you meet eyes with Jack’s blue orbs, smirk playing on his face,

“Kripke and his traumatic imaginations,” You say, wrapping your own arm around his waste,

Jack hums with an agreement nod, “Oh yeah they’re wild. But you gotta admit, their pretty fucking awesome,”

You hear Jensen give a short chuckle as you turn to Jack with a deadpan look, “Weren’t you complaining just last week for that.. tentacle shoot?”

A smirk tugs on your lips when the man’s face glaze’s over with a traumatic look. To this day you’re not even sure how any of you have lasted this long with the show, you were certain one of you would eventually pull back from the show to take a much, very much needed ‘mental break.’ Okay okay.. you’re being dramatic and probably should never be the one to welcome or warn new actors onto the show otherwise they’d be scared to even step foot on set. But you are being serious about the wild shit you’ve done and encountered while working on the show, definitely the most interesting things you’ve got to experience over the years.

“Yes. Yes I did. And I am so glad that it’s over,” Jack responds with a relieved laugh, earning a sincere chuckle from you,

That tentacle scene will forever be… explicit. And you know it’ll haunt Jack for the rest of his life. It would horrendously suck if the team decides not to add it to the show, because Jack spent hours. Hours shooting that scene. And you know for a fact if they don’t add it, Jack would very much stomp his way to the editing room and add it himself. He did not spent hours being traumatized by a very very large alien-like tentacle slithering across his body for it to not be added to the show. Absolutely not, he would not have that.

After another few minutes of standing to the side of the set and communicating with each other, two makeup artists had called out letting each one of you they’d like to do last minute touches before filming began. As Jensen and Quaid walked over to them, you glanced towards the set once again before letting out a heavy sigh as you glare at the gallons of lubes stacked up in the far corner of the set. Why lube? Out of all things? It just had to be lube?

“Don’t get too excited love, otherwise Kripke will continue with his diabolical shenanigans,” You hear his deep Kiwi accent fill your ears, then feeling the way his strong arms hug your waist from behind,

Instinctively, you lean back against his firm chest. Your hands sliding along his forearm before letting your fingers interlock with his.

You scoff as your eyes continue staring at the crew members making last minute touches to the set, “That’s the problem with Kripke though! Whether you’re excited or not.. he still does shit like this!”

Karl’s deep chuckle vibrates in your ear. Feeling the way his chest slightly moves against your back.

“Looks like it should be an easy one then aye? Walk in the park,” Your head turns to look him in his beautiful eyes, a smirk displayed on his face as he sees your own eyes widen,

“That’s another problem! I won’t be able to walk! Let alone fight in it!” You exclaim while waving your hand towards the set, specifically where crew members were now adding props around the lubricated pool,

Karl chuckles once again. He’s enjoying this moment way too much.

“Well, at least it’ll be a smooth one to shoot. You’ll slide your way through filming today,” Karl jokes again, causing you to lightly punch him on his shoulder as a chuckle slips from you,

“Shut up you’re not helping,” You say in between faint giggles, but the moment you go to move away from him, his hand slides down your arm until it clasps around your wrist,

He gently tugs on it, pulling you back to his chest. His wide, proud smirk still displayed on his face as he wraps an arm around your waist once again while the other goes to place a loose strand of hair behind your ear. A faint chuckle slips through his nose at your small pout, so, he decides to kiss it away. Gently, he latches his lips with yours. Two, small long pecks to your lips has you instantly melting into him.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as you savor his loving kisses.

“Better?” Karl asks after a moment, his brow raised and a faint smile on his face,

You purse your lips as you hum, almost as if you’re thinking. Your fingers gently play with his dark locks at the base of his neck, “Mmmm.. no not really,”

Karl’s smile widens at your response, but doesn’t resist when you tug him back to your lips. His own hands that were settled around your hips tighten their hold as he pulls you closer to his chest, his lips molding beautifully with yours. Just slow, tender kisses being poured from each other. Despite Karl not being a fan of pda, he’ll gladly kiss away your frustrations. Public or not. He’d do it.

++++

“We need more lube!”

“I’m drying up here!”

“Kripke I swear if I break a finger from this!”

“Oh my god!”

“Oh shit! Sorry I splashed some on the camera..”

“I need lube,”

“Hang on.. I’ve got lube up my nose,”

“This is absolutely ridiculous,”

“More Lube!”

“Oh my god I almost fell!”

“Jesus! This shit is so impossible to walk on!”

“Am I the first person to fight in a pool of lube?”

“No,”

“Oh,”

The back and forth chaotic comments you’d share was all you can hear throughout filming on set. You were sure most of them would be added to the gag reel, if anything everything you said would be added without it being edited and cut. Yet, despite the monstrosity and traumatic moments of filming, you were genuinely having fun. Yes, the scene was beyond chaotic, but it was also incredibly hilarious. Laughter was constantly being filled on set as you or the stunt woman—Shay— that you’re currently working with would often slip or nearly slip from the goddamn lube.

Or, one of you would try and land a choreographed punched but only either ended falling straight down to your ass or would send flying lube to your eyes or to the camera lens. It was definitely the most messiest shooting you’ve ever done.

Besides the fake blood moments you’d have to endure while working on The Boys, you’d definitely say this is the messiest shooting you’ve done in your life.

Like now for instance, a crew member was currently pouring a gallon of lube over your head. Kripke had wanted one more final shot of you tackling Shay out of the pool and onto the ground, so he wanted the lube to look fresh on both of you as he grabbed the shot.

You honestly stop counting after the third gallon of lube, but you were sure of yourself that you’ve lot have used nearly 40 to 50 gallons already. The empty ones tossed and stacked inside a large container prove to you that the usage of lube had surpassed the limit of 20 gallons.

What scared you was, just behind the set laid more gallons, waiting to be used.

“We good?” You mumble when you don’t feel anything being poured on your head. Your head faced downward as your eyes were closed shut to prevent any of its lubricant contents to irritate your eyes,

“Not quite. I ran out. Gimme a sec, I’ll be back,” You hear Larry say before slightly hearing him walk away,

A soft sigh escapes from you as you stay put. Not like you had anywhere else to go, or could go without falling straight to your already sore bottom. So, you just stood there. Head low, eyes still closed, arms slightly raised and parted away from you as if you aren’t already covered from head to toe with lube. Every other second you’d spit on the ground when you feel its lubricant touching your lips. You just knew you looked ridiculous standing the way you were standing. Awkward and slicked with lube while still in the pool.

Despite your current situation, throughout filming you weren’t the only one laughing. Behind the cameras where the rest of the cast sat watching through the monitors, which would include; Karl, Jensen, Jack, Laz, Tomer and Karen, you can hear them laughing and cracking jokes as they watched with too much amusement. You had even caught Jensen and Jack snapping a picture or two at your state. You had threaten to hurl a glob of lube towards them if they kept it up, you didn’t of course, you were too busy focusing on not eating shit. But you did make a mental note on getting back at them one way or another.

“Well well well, don’t you look like a newborn baby lamb,” The familiar accent of Billy Butcher rings beautifully in your ears. A small smile tugs on your lips as you turn in the direction of his voice,

You hoped you turned the right way.

“Ha ha very funny,” You sarcastically respond, but the smile forming on your lips lets him know it wasn’t sincere,

Karl chuckles as he stands a few feet away from you. His hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans as he watches your disgruntled look. Lubricated or not, you still managed to look beautiful to him. He was hands down mad for you.

“I can’t see a damn thing,” You mumble as you try wiping away the lube from your closed eyelids but feel how you only add more slick,

Chuckling softly once more, Karl carefully steps closer towards you. His boots taking cautious steps against the slicked floor that surrounded you. Once near, he reaches a hand, his thumb gently and carefully wiping away the lubricant from your eyes. He had to wipe a few times, but eventually your breath taking orbs slowly blink open. They immediately lock with his hazel ones, and oh my god were they just astonishing. The light hovering slightly above illuminated his dark navy Hawaiian shirt, blending it perfectly with his beautiful irises.

“How’s that?” He questions, a small smirk framing his lips,

You let out a tired sigh. Your shoulders slightly slumping. But a smile still manages to tug on your own lips, indicating you were grateful for his little affection.

“I’d hug you right now but..,” You let your words hang in the air as you glance down at your soaked frame. Earning a soft chuckle from the Kiwi,

“Yeah..wouldn’t want that love,”

Another exhausted sigh slips from you, “Am I nearly done? I’m cold and I wanna shower already,”

Karl snorts at your small pout. His thumb once again wiping away a small streak of lube sliding down your temple.

“I’ll talk to Kripke in calling it for the day,” Karl states as he glances around set, his eyes darting from one crew member to the other before letting them settle back on your frame,

He noticed how you were glaring at him with a playful expression in your eyes. He furrows his brows at you while shoving his hands back in his pockets, but it was then he fully understood for your current playful glare. Larry was back and carefully pouring more lube over your head and frame. A soft snort escapes from Karl as he watches the crew member drench you once again, noticing the smirk on the Larry’s face as he continues doing his job, he was lucky you weren’t facing him other wise he’d definitely be the one covered in lube. Somehow.

“I’m expecting something special and or expensive from you after all of this is done,” You say out loud, an eye closing shut when you feel liquid sliding down your eyelid,

Karl chuckles once again, his hazel eyes igniting with pure admiration, brightness and love as he continues staring at you.

“Guess I should start brainstorming then aye?”

“Sounds like a smart idea,” You mutter before spitting once again when liquid touches your lips,

With that, Karl shakes his head with a deep chuckle before carefully walking away when Kripke calls out on set that he’s ready to start shooting. As Kripke angled the cameras, made last final touches on some props and asked Larry to pour another gallon of lube over you and Shay, everyone was ready to shoot. You let out a heavy exhale as you share a look with Shay that resulted in you both chuckling before positioning yourselves for the take.

It was supposed to be a simple shot. Just you tackling Shay out of the pool and onto the ground, the effects team would later edit the scene to make it look more extra, but for now, your human self had to somehow tackle a grown woman out of a slippery pool without ruining the take.

So, angling yourself in a certain way and gripping onto Shay’s arms, you were confident enough that you’d be able to land it first try.

You were in fact wrong.

The moment Kripke’s voice echos on set and yells action, both you and Shay wrestle for a few seconds before you go to tackle her out of the pool. However, the padding underneath your boots was too slippery, the moment Shay lands on the ground just as planned, you too feel yourself slipping and falling forwards. What comes next was something you hadn’t expected, a sudden jolt of pain washes over your right side of your jaw. The moment you had slipped and launched forward, you didn’t realize just how close Shay was until your jaw had connected perfectly with her knee. Stars erupted in your vision for a hot second as pain radiated through your face, cutting through the jollity of the moment.

“Oh my god! (Y/n) are you okay?” Shay hurriedly asked as she reached out for you,

You had slowly maneuvered yourself to lay on the ground, your back against the cold, slicked floor awhile you clutch onto your sore jaw. You hear Kripke yell cut somewhere on set then the sound of hurried footsteps against the ground. Your eyes were squeezed shut as you make a noise in the back of your throat, letting Shay know that you were okay despite the agony pain traveling up your jaw.

“(Y/n)!?”

“Mmm.. I’m okay,” You softly murmur through the pain as you slowly rise to your knees,

As you sit on your knees, hands holding you upwards you begin to taste heavy copper in your mouth. Fucking great. Anything else!?

“Alright let’s— let’s take a break. 15 minutes, everyone,” You hear Kripke speak just as you feel strong hands slowly and carefully pulling you up on your feet,

Once upright, your eyes turn to the person helping you up, only to meet with Karl’s worried hazel orbs. His eyes desperately scan your face, searching for any signs of harm. However, his worried scowl quickly washes away and is replaced by a wide smile when you send him a smile of your own. Your teeth coated in blood is all he can see, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Fuckin’ hell love. C’mon let’s get you cleaned up,” Karl says in between chuckles as he carefully guides you both away from set,

You slightly wince when the pain on your jaw slightly intensifies causing you touch your jaw once again, however, just as your fingers make contact with your cheek your blood slightly freezes in your veins when you feel something fall on your tongue. With furrow brows you place the palm of your hand in front of your mouth before spitting onto it, coating your hand with blood. Your eyes grow wide as you continue to stare down at your bloody palm.

You didn’t notice you had made it to where the rest of the cast sat around with their own worried faces, nor didn’t you notice the way Karl had stopped walking when you suddenly halted your steps.

“Oh my god! Is that your-“ The sound of Jack’s voice wildly announcing in the small space has you lifting your eyes,

A disbelieving laugh escapes from you as you let your other free hand reach for the tooth on your palm. You raise your hand in front of you, a wide, bloody smile on your face as you display the loose tooth held between your index and thumb.

“Oh that’s just gross,” Laz is the first to comment with a shake of his head before averting his eyes back to his phone,

“Jesus (Y/n).. how hard did you fall?” Jensen questions as he carefully examines your bloody tooth,

Another chuckle falls from your lips as you look over at Karl who simply shook his head. His fingers running through his dark hair, yet, you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips lift upwards. His hazel eyes land on yours, a heavy sigh falling from his mouth while you only send him a giggle before making your way to a mirror on set. Once standing in front of one, you open your mouth to try and see where exactly the tooth belonged.

With the little light hanging above you and the blood coating your entire mouth, you managed to see a gap just at the end of your lower jaw. It was a molar that had been knocked out.

Another giggle slips from you as you continue scanning the inside of your mouth. Of course this would happen to you and only you.

“Lose anymore?” Karl asks behind you,

Slightly moving to the side, your eyes meet his through the mirror, seeing the way his mouth was curved into a small smirk but can still see the worry lingering in his eyes.

“I don’t think so. Just the one. I hope,” You mumble the last part as you grab the paper towels that he hands you before once again spitting into its rough texture,

You grimace at the dark red liquid coating the white towel before folding it and wiping away any other blood around your mouth. He then extends an uncapped water bottle to you, which you take with a small smile. Untwisting it and taking a sip, you swish the water in your mouth for a few seconds before going to spit it out, however, an amused look settles on Karl’s face as he watches you look around. Your cheeks inflated due to the water in your mouth, earning a soft chuckle from the Kiwi.

After of what seemed like seconds in trying to find the perfect spot to spit out the bloody water, you glance up at Karl, who only stares at you in silence. A brow rising as a soft chuckle fans past his lips.

“Bloody hell woman,” He mumbles beneath his breath along with a shake of his head as he turns to walk to his chair,

Seconds later he returns to you with his now empty paper coffee cup. Your inflated cheeks stretch into a smile as best as they can as you accept the cup. You spit inside the cup before rinsing your mouth again, you do it a few times until you feel the blood has limited and you’re able to talk without having blood oozing out of your mouth.

“How are you (Y/n)? Heard you loosened a tooth,” Kripke questions. His eyes scanning your features until they land on your palm, where your molar rested, causing guilt to settle on his chest,

You shrug a shoulder with a smile. This time your teeth fresh and clean from blood, “I’ve had worse, I’ll be okay,”

Kripke looks at you, then to Karl, then back to you. A small smile tugging on his lips, he’s always admired your determination, both on and off screen.

“Good to know. We’ll be calling it for today,” Kripke claims,

“You sure? It feel like I messed up the shot,”

Kripke was quick to shake his head, his smile still on his lips, “It actually came out perfect. Despite you sacrificing a tooth, the shot actually looks great,”

You snort. How ironic, in order to get the perfect shot you just needed to get physically injured to make it look real.

“You’re welcome?” You say with a soft chuckle, earning one from both men as well,

With that, Kripke apologizes one last time for pushing you so hard, which you were quick to wave it away with a sincere smile. Giving you a gentle pat on your arm, Kripke walks away, leaving you alone with Karl once again. Who by the way was already covering your entire soaked frame with a towel, causing a wide smile to form on your face as you clutch the towel tighter on you when a cold shiver runs down your spine from the sudden temperature change.

“So.. what do you think the tooth fairy will put under my pillow tonight?” You ask him with a grin as you both slowly walk out of set,

He scoffs, “A bunch of painkillers and a phone,”

“A phone?” That’s an odd one.

“Yep. Because first thing tomorrow mornin’ yer makin’ an appointment to the dentist love,” Karl tells you before giving you a quick peck to your lips and walking away. A snide smirk spreading on his lips when he knows he just bursted your bubble.

You stop walking and stare dumbfounded at his departing back as reality hits you.

The dentist? Well fucking shit..

——————

-> Alright Ya’ll, As Promised! Here’s Another Ubran x Reader Fic Meanwhile I Finish The Reacher x Reader!

-> Believe It Or Not, This One Has Been Sitting On My Notes For The Longest Now, So I Hope Ya’ll Enjoyed This One!! 💞✨

-> Also, Yes! This Is Actually Apart of A Series In Case Ya’ll Haven’t Noticed!

-> Anyways! Stay Tuned For More Updates!! Make Sure To Turn On Post Notifications🔔!!

———————

[gaysindistress]

This is definitely not canon at all but yall are gonna let me have this😭

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Astarion x gn!reader

masterlist

So Star Boy, our sweet Astarion, was a magistrate and grew up wealthy, if not nobility in some way. Based on how sarcastic and cunning he can be in the game, I’d bet my left big toe that he used a little shit when he was younger. I’m talking switching the side of the road he’s walking on if he saw a beggar and turning his nose up if they talked to him. We also know that this is somewhat true given how he ended up becoming a vampire. I’m imagining him being very similar to Cressida from Bridgerton; just someone who is miserable and craves feeling important/valued. He needs to make others feel small because he felt worthless growing up and doesn’t know how to cope with the weight of his family’s expectations.

Which leads to me my impossible canon; what if he had a betrothed before he was turned?

What if he was awful to them because he didn’t know how to be kind?

I don’t think he has the ability to be truly awful but I do think he would ignore them, keep a distance, and probably be very short with the poor soul. He’d be dismissive and constantly give them looks because he’s just so angry to be engaged to them. It’s not that they’ve done anything; it’s the fact that he’s being forced to marry someone he didn’t pick himself. Once more his family has taken away his freedom and has forced him to play the part of a noble son.

This betrothal has been in the works for years, maybe even since birth but they haven’t been allowed interact until recently. Sure he’s known that it was some second born of a distant family ally and he’s seen a handful of paintings but that’s all. He’s never spoken to them or truly ever seen them.

It feels like the sky is crumbling around him when he does finally meet his betrothed. Sun breaks through the stained glass windows of the church as astarion stares at the mocking portraits around him. They seem to mock his situation with their out stretched arms that promise freedom and salvation. His boots make sharp and impatient noises as he taps his foot out of frustration. His parents, ever the stunning and elegant figures that they are, whisper as they critique every aspect of their son. Just when he’s about to huff and demand that they leave, the doors swing open and a small crowd of people waltz in. A man and a woman who foil Astarion’s parents stride up to them, murmuring half hearted apologies and excuses. Behind them trails a few servants and the other half of this unwilling couple.

Astarion rolls his eyes at the shy demeanor of his betrothed, cursing any god listening for this entire thing. His mom snaps her fingers and beckons him to her side to make the official introduction.

“Astarion darling, this is your betrothed,” she tells him as the servants fall away and reveal the single most beautiful creature that Astarion has ever laid eyes upon.

“Oh what a pretty little thing,” his father says before Astarion can speak and adds, “it’s shame they’re rather dull minded.”

The look that flashes across his betrothed’s face is one of immense disgust but it’s schooled into one of cool collection. They settle their warm eyes on Astarion and give him a gentile smile as they murmur their greeting.

“What a pretty little thing indeed.” Astarion finds himself saying without realizing it.

When this small spark of admiration bursts into distain is yet to be revealed but rather quickly it does and even the mention of his upcoming wedding makes him ill. Astarion avoids it at all costs and morphs into a bitter husk of himself as it draws closer.

That is until he’s turned.

A part of him is grateful that he’s dead to the world but there’s also a part that feels guilty. The sweet smile didn’t deserve his cruel and cold behavior but then again he didn’t deserve to lose his freedom like that.

Over the years, I’d think he would forget about that part of his life or rather he would lock that memory away. It’s useless to dwell on a ‘what if’ like that when Caz-cunt is alive.

So his pretty little betrothed is scrubbed from his mind and whatever he felt for them is forgotten as well.

Fast forward to when he’s adventuring with Tav. They’ve started what it appears to be a budding relationship (more like a few artfully crafted seductions but that’s not the point). Astartion finds himself falling for Tav and caring for them in a way he never thought possible. There’s a sting in his chest whenever he looks at them but it feels deeper, older than their relationship. It nags at him to remember but to remember what? It feels like it’s always on the tip of his tongue, just out of reach.

His fingers grasp at the tracers of a memory so forbidden that he doesn’t think he could even touch it. At night after hunting, Astarion finds himself staring up at the moon, trying to pick apart his own mind to figure it all out. By morning he’s exhausted and starving again.

During one of his many fruitless nights, he drifts to sleep and wakes up to someone pressing a dagger to his throat.

“Where is your camp?” The shadowy figure demands in a low voice as they gently press the blade against his neck.

“I don’t have one,” he replies, confused by his own quickness to protect his unfortunate companions.

“Lies, where is it?” The blade kisses and lavishes his neck as a prick of blood beads out.

“If you want to keep that hand, I suggest you get off of him and back way,” Tav’s authoritative voice calls out. Astarion can’t see much around the mass that looms over him but he can see that every one of his companions is there with weapons drawn.

The figure makes a disgruntled noise before quickly getting up and backing away with raised hands. They give some bullshit excuse that no one truly believes but Tav is more focused on Astarion to further question them.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” the figure lets slip and earns the full attention of everyone, Tav especially. They position themselves between their lover and this thief, leveling them with a harsh look of judgment.

“Who are you?” Tav demands.

The figure chuckles to themselves as they push their hood off to reveal themselves. A collective shock rings through the group when they finally see the person that got the under hand on Astarion.

“Who I am is unimportant. Why I am here is the question you should be asking.”

Tav shifts from foot to foot, ready to attack as they pose the ‘correct’ question.

The newcomer’s face breaks in an eerily familiar smile as they inform the group that Raphael sent them. They survey the band of ragtag adventurers before them, their eyes quickly scanning over each person but settle on one pale elf.

Chaos seems to erupt in the form of hushed conversations and sharp words but it all falls on deaf ears for Astarion.

All he sees is that perfect facade of a smile and warm eyes that he’s been searching for the 200 years.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” his formerly betrothed murmurs to him and him alone.

[tiny-pun]

On writing pain

Okay so for once this isn’t an actual prompt but more so a tip:

If your character is supposedly in pain that lasts more than a couple of days or even weeks and months, eg. Because of a bigger wound or of a (new) disability… you most likely should show this in more ways than just the occasional “gasp and clutching the wound”!

Having such constant pain will have at least some kind of emotional impact: the stress of constantly being in pain, the constant push and pull between just succumbing to the pain and laying down until it goes away or just ignoring it and powering through. The balancing act of not overdoing it and being hypervigilant to the point you just hunch down to avoid worsening it.

Additionally you have to think about how to treat all of the different pains. How connected are they really? How much sense does it actually make to take pain meds ? Are there enough? Do I trust my doctor/s, to actually listen to me and take my pain seriously? Am I over exaggerating my pain? Am I underselling it? Am I annoying my doctor? Should I just wait and hope it goes away? It’s probably nothing anyway. But what if it’s so much worse ? What if this pain is just covering up something truly awful? But what if I’m making such a fuss now and tomorrow I can jump around like always? How unnecessary it would be to get so many people involved. Right ? This is especially hindered by poor use of words aka incapability to communicate. ( My head is just … kinda fuzzy?/Everything hurts?)

Another factor is how much they want to openly tell others about it. And whom they could possibly even tell and all the whys and hows surrounding it. And how hard it would be aka how long they’ve know each other and how much time they spent together. The hiding and lying adds more emotional stress and also possibly leads to neglect of any medical help. The “overt” complaining about the pain/situation can be exhausting and thus a different kind of stress. Especially if they’re feeling childish/unheard or otherwise ashamed about voicing anything but positive emotions but the pain is just too much and too consistent.

This can also lead to a constant comparison of how far into their recovery they “statistically already should be” or just the plain old “I could do xyz SO EASILY before”. Or worse: they’re comparing themselves to another (equally) wounded/disabled character. Wether it’s an internal belief or externally expected: if the character believes, that their wound/pain is comparably minor or should be easily overcome by themselves; and especially if they have a certain goal in mind, by which they should be back to their regular power and it’s not look in good … well then you certainly have a nice cocktail of stress and anxiety.

And if during the time of their supposed recovery, they end up getting some minor but more common sickness, eg. A cold or a stomach bug, it might not be their first thought. In fact they might do any and every test possible BUT think of the common cold. Not bc they’re necessarily stupid but bc of the fear, things might go to hell after all. Especially if the symptoms of both illnesses are similar enough. Anything else will just not be in their radar.

Also how would they like to be taken care of ? How much of that is a facade to please others ? Do they actually want to be hugged right now or are they just trying to please someone yet feeling suffocated? Do they just want their dead siblings soup and is a companionable silence enough to know they’re gonna be fine? How honest are they towards not only themselves but to others? And how much can the people and the situation itself even give that to them right now? (Do they need silence but they’re currently lying low in the city’s biggest hotel next to the market place?)

For all of this it doesn’t matter how big or small the pain actually is. What matters is that it is seemingly constant and only very slowly going away. The combination of constant physical pain with so much emotional turmoil and back and forth between opposing ideals aka stress can translate to even more physical pain aka psychosomatic pain. Headaches, breathlessness and even bigger issues such as literal heartaches can be the result.

This all can lead to spiralling and in the worst case a (temporary) depression. I dont think I have to explain how that could look like.

And one last thing: If the character is used to being in life or death situations, no matter if it’s due to multiple fights or an already existing disability: the common cold might be worse to deal with. They could be so used to dealing with the possibility of death that anything less than that is ironically unbearable. During a basically fatal stabbing they might just say a cheeky joke but freak out during the common cold.

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor. If you have the same pain for more than 6 week pls get it checked out if you can! And get well soon. These are just possible ways to write, what kind of thoughts and issues any type of constant pain (fatal or not) could cause.

[thehereticdiaries]

Dead Man Walking: Chapter Four

Chapter Summary: Your group has to figure out what to do about the men that hurt San and Hyunjin

Warnings: Uhhhh none that I can think of, this is a plot building chapter, lmk if i should add any

Series Masterlist

After a tense dinner, you and Wooyoung met with your leaders in their office. The two of you sat on the couch under the scrutinizing eye of Hongjoong while Chris paced by the desk.

“The run group was ambushed by a group of ten men. It could be a coincidence, but it sounds too similar to the group that attacked you. Do you remember what any of them looked like?” Hongjoong crossed his arms, head tilted as he observed you. 

“Hmm,” you rested your elbows on your knees, brows creased in concentration. “It was dark. I only got a good look at the man that tried to grab me. He was a younger guy, not much older than me. He was tall, maybe even taller than Yunho and Mingi. Shoulder length hair, either dark brown or black, and very greasy. He wore a necklace with what looked like a mix of human and canine teeth. And a diamond tattoo under his left eye.”

“Oh, shit,” Wooyoung swore, running a hand down his face. Your heart dropped at the exhaustion that washed over him. 

“No no no, please don’t say what I think you’re gonna say,” you pleaded even though you knew it was useless.

“That’s the guy that shot Hyunjin and cut San,” Wooyoung confirmed your fears. You dropped your face to your hands, squeezing your eyes shut beneath your palms.

“Fuck!” Chan snarled, knocking the small desk lamp into the wall. He stormed over to stand in front of Wooyoung. “They didn’t follow you, right?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I checked behind us every couple seconds. It looked like the psycho with the tooth necklace wanted to, but one of the older guys in the group stopped him.”

“Wait, Seungmin said San knocked that guy out,” Chan recalled with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know, dude,” Wooyoung shrugged. “I guess he was just laid out for a minute, not fully unconscious.”

“Alright,” Hongjoong sighed heavily. “This is a major issue. Chan and I will start figuring out a game-plan, we’ll talk with everyone tomorrow. Go get some rest.” Once your footsteps faded, the co-leaders stood on opposite sides of the desk to pour over their maps.

“What are we supposed to do about this, Chan? We don’t even know how many of them there are, where their base is, nothing,” he looked up at the older man with thinly veiled panic in his eyes. Chris gave nothing away with his expression, hiding behind a mask of stone.

“There’s no other choice, we’re gonna have to scout them out. Don’t give me that look, Hongjoong, I don’t like it either. But we need to get a handle on the situation before their group shows up on our front step.” Chan was right, Hongjoong knew he was, but the idea made him sick. Two of their members were already hurt. He didn’t want to risk anyone else.

“We can’t make that decision on our own. We’re putting everyone at risk by doing this,” Hongjoong insisted. 

“We’ll have a meeting tomorrow after lunch.”

You didn’t sleep. You glued yourself to Hyunjin’s side, watching his breathing and pulse like a hawk. You didn’t join the others for breakfast, your food being brought to you by Yeosang. As the hours ticked by, your mind wandered to the men that you’d encountered twice now. What would happen if they found your base? Would it be another massacre? Would you be forced to watch the sadistic bastards kill those you cared about again?

“He’s not awake yet?” A voice at your door jolted you from your disturbing thoughts. Jeongin rushed to the desk, cupping Hyunjin’s cheeks and knocking your hand from his neck.

“Jeongin –”

“Don’t use that voice with me, I’m not a child.” He glared at you, but you were way too tired to argue with him.

“I know you’re not, but –”

“No! No ‘but’, why isn’t he awake yet?!” Irritation boiled under your skin, pushing the fatigue out of your mind.

“Interrupt me one more fucking time, Jeongin, and I swear to god you will not be allowed to step foot in this room again.” He snapped his jaw shut and a muscle twitched in his neck. His nails dug into his palms where they hung by his sides. “Hyunjin lost a lot of blood. Combine that with the pain of having the bullet removed, I’m not surprised he went into shock. What matters now is that he's stable. Our bodies heal best while we sleep. I honestly don’t expect him to wake up until sometime tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry. I just,” he choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind a hand. Your face softened immediately. You moved around the desk to wrap the youngest member in your arms. He dug his face into your neck, gripping the back of your shirt like a lifeline.

“I know you’re scared. You have every right to be, one of your closest friends was severely injured.” You carded your fingers through his hair. “But I need you to trust me. I’m new, but I care about all of you.”

“I’m sorry for yelling at you,” Jeongin apologized with a sniffle after pulling back from your embrace. 

“It’s okay,” you reassured him, brushing away his stray tears with your thumb. “Do you want to stay with Hyunjin for a bit so I can check on San?” He nodded rapidly and took your place in the chair by his head. You grabbed fresh gauze and tape before leaving to find your other patient. You’d have to change Hyunjin’s bandages later, too. San sat alone in the common area bundled up in a blanket, eyes glazed over.

“San? Are you feeling alright?” You knelt in front of him, dipping your head down to meet his eyes. They were red and slightly puffy. “Did you sleep at all?”

“A couple hours,” he mumbled, looking through you rather than at you. “It’s my fault.” Your shoulders deflated, knowing that feeling all too well.

“You can’t blame yourself. There was no way you could have known those men would attack you.” His eyes hardened, suddenly focusing on you.

“Maybe not, but I should have been able to protect them. I was the oldest in the group, not to mention Changbin and I are arguably the two strongest. I should have done more to keep them safe.”

“God, why am I a therapist today,” you mutter to yourself. “San, I know how you feel, trust me. But –”

“How could you know how I fucking feel right now?” Your eye twitched. You took a deep breath to stamp down your anger. 

“One: do not interrupt me when I am speaking. Two: do not curse at me like that.” San rolled his eyes, turning away at your lecture. You grabbed his jaw, lightly digging your nails into his skin, and forced him to look you in the eye. “Three: I know how you feel because I’m the reason my brothers and their girlfriends are dead.” A heavy silence lingered in the air. 

“I- I didn’t mean to…” he trailed off, guilt eating away at his insides.

“I know. But you got them back. I’m trying to forgive myself, you should do the same.” He slowly nodded as he let your words sink in. “Now take off the blanket, I need to check your cut.” San was shirtless under the blanket, but you were a professional and only freaked out internally. You shuffled around to sit in front of his wounded shoulder. His hand was on your thigh, right above your knee, before you even touched the bandage. You gingerly peeled off the old gauze, setting it behind you to throw out later. The cut was already healing nicely, to your relief.

“How is it?” San winced as your fingers brushed over the stitches.

“Good. I should be able to take the stitches out in a week, but you’ll still need to take it easy after they’re out,” you pressed the clean gauze down to tape into place. He hissed and tightened his grip on your thigh whenever you touched a particularly sensitive spot. The flush rising to your cheeks was the only indicator of how flustered it made you, but it was enough for San to notice. He studied you with a sly grin despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder.

“San,” you warned when his hand started sliding higher. He bit his bottom lip to stifle a laugh, but stopped his movement, leaving his hand to rest on the middle of your thigh. You huffed through your nose as you finished redressing his wound. Someone cleared their throat behind you, and you turned to Hongjoong staring daggers at San’s hand. 

“If you’re done here, we need to have a group meeting. Break room.” The leader disappeared just as quickly as he showed up. You raised your eyebrows.

“Is it just me, or did he look pissed?” You asked while gathering your supplies. 

“Don’t worry about it, for now at least,” San sighed and draped a flannel over his shoulders, walking beside you to the break room. You dropped the soiled gauze into the trash before sitting between Yeosang and Jisung in a large circle on the floor. 

“Where’s Chan?” Minho glanced at the doorway to look for the eldest of the group.

“He’s watching Hyunjin. Listen up, now.” The room fell to silence, everyone’s focus solely on Hongjoong. “The men that attacked our run group yesterday also attacked Y/N a few weeks ago.”

“What? How do you know it’s the same group?” Mingi questioned, eyes flicking between you and the conscious members from the run.

“There was one man that both Y/N and Wooyoung recognized. He had some pretty distinct characteristics, including a necklace made of teeth and a diamond tattoo on his face,” Hongjoong explained. 

“You didn’t tell us you were attacked,” Jongho spoke up next, addressing you.

“It wasn’t necessary for anyone besides Chan and Hongjoong to know. But it is now,” you rubbed your temple to fight back the fatigue creeping its way back into your bones. “I’m not going into the details. Like Hongjoong said, those men ambushed my group while we were asleep. They killed my two brothers and their girlfriends. I only survived because of their sacrifice.”

“The guy that shot Hyunjin also tried to take Y/N and the two other girls back to their group for ‘entertainment’.” You glared at Hongjoong. He had no right to tell them that. “As of now, the only information we have on them is that man’s description and the general direction they came from.”

“So what do we do?” Hongjoong hummed at Felix’s question, crossing his arms and looking at the floor in front of him.

“There’s really only two options. We can do nothing, and wait for them to come to us, or we can send scouts to get more info on them.” 

“We’re going after them, obviously,” Wooyoung stated immediately. 

“Are you insane? We can’t send anyone else after them, not with what they did to Hyunjin, San, and Y/N’s family,” Jisung borderline scolded the older boy, eyebrows flying up to his hairline.

“Oh, I’m insane? No, what’s insane is letting them get the upper hand on us. We can’t let them take everything we’ve built here.”

“I’m with Jisung, it’s too dangerous to risk any of our lives,” Felix chimed in.

“Bullshit, you’re just too much of a pussy to do what’s necessary.” The group devolved into overlapping arguments. You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose as their voices rose in volume.

“Enough!” Hongjoong barked, stopping everyone in their tracks. “Fighting each other about this won’t get us anywhere. We’re putting it to a vote. Chan and I already say we go to them. Anyone that agrees, raise your hand now.” Only five members kept their hands down: Jisung, Felix, Yeosang, Jongho, and Seonghwa. 

“Y/N, you seriously want to go after them?” Jisung stared at you, looking slightly betrayed.

“Trust me, I hate the idea. But Wooyoung is right. I’m terrified of what will happen if they find us here. These men are cruel. They let you die slowly and in pain.” Images from that night flashed across your mind. Your head felt like it was filled with lead, your eyelids threatening to fall shut.

“The most important thing will be stealth. It’ll be a small group, two or three at most. Our objective is to get information. We need to know how many are in their group and where their camp is. There will be absolutely no attacking these men until we’re at full strength. Are there any volunteers?” Hongjoong’s gaze swept over the group.

“Me.” Wooyoung, Seungmin, and Jeongin answered at the same time. Hongjoong narrowed his eyes on Wooyoung.

“Are you going to be able to keep your cool? Especially if you see the guy that shot Hyunjin?” The younger member bristled at the accusation.

“I will, I swear.” 

“Alright. The scouting group will be me, Wooyoung, and Jeongin.” Seungmin opened his mouth to protest. “No arguments, Seungmin. You’re one of our best with the rifle. You’re staying here.”

“Fine,” he reluctantly agreed. 

“Wooyoung, Jeongin, you’ll be meeting with Chan and I later so we can start planning. We aren’t going until our back-up plans have back-up plans.”

“Can San and I help with the plan? Our run groups always include one of us, we’re familiar with the city and part of the woods,” Changbin suggested with San nodding enthusiastically.

“Yeah, that’s fine. We’re done here, go relax.” Hongjoong left the room with an angered Seonghwa on his heels. 

“I should get back to Hyunjin,” you faltered at the wave of dizziness hitting you when you stood. You swayed on your feet, holding on to a chair for stability. 

“Are you feeling alright? You look pale.” It took a moment to realize that Minho was talking to you. 

“I’m fine,” you insisted, swallowing down the bile burning the back of your throat. Yunho appeared in your blurred vision, his hand holding your shoulder. You brushed him off, repeating that you were fine over and over, as if saying it enough would make it true. Your knees buckled under you at your first step toward the door. You fell onto something warm, hearing several shouts before plunging into darkness.

You woke up feeling dazed, blinking in the darkness of the common room. Soft breaths from the boys sleeping around you broke the stifling silence. It was probably the middle of the night, based on the moonlight streaming through the gaps in the slats over the windows. You vaguely registered the lap acting as your pillow.

“You scared the shit out of us,” Chris whispered from above you. He brushed your hair out of your face when you turned to look up at him. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry,” you mumbled, still waiting for your brain to fully wake up. “What happened?”

“You passed out. Would’ve hit your head on the table if Yunho hadn’t caught you.” He kept his hand in your hair, gently untangling some knots with his fingers.

“Oh. I thought I could last longer than that.”

“What does that mean?” His eyebrows creased with concern. 

“I thought I could handle at least one more night without sleep. Guess I was wrong,” you chuckled at your own attempt at a joke.

“Y/N, there’s nothing funny about this. If I’m right, you were awake for nearly 30 hours. That’s incredibly dangerous,” his voice remained soft even as he scolded you.

“This coming from someone that barely sleeps himself,” you pouted. “You and Hongjoong are both notorious for staying awake late into the night.”

“But neither of us have stayed awake for longer than 20 consecutive hours. We always manage to get a few hours in. What would’ve happened if Hyunjin suddenly got worse and we couldn’t wake you cus you knocked yourself out cold?” You were knocked speechless, gaping at the underside of Chan's jaw as he rested his head against the wall.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You turned to look over the sleeping forms of the other boys.

“We need you. Please take care of yourself. I don’t want to see you like that again, it was scary.” You couldn’t tell if it was a trick of the light, but you swore there were tears shining in his eyes.

“I will.”

“Go back to sleep. Seonghwa and Minho are watching Hyunjin. You can check on him in the morning.” You rolled onto your side so you could press your forehead into Chan’s hip. His breath hitched for a brief moment before he relaxed. His thumb traced over your temple, lulling you to sleep.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway

Series Taglist: @vampwritesstuff @galaxy4489

[appalachianapologies]

@impossiblepluto I couldn't stop myself. Behold, a short Leverage/MacGyver crossover snip

Mac knows that he’s nosey. He’s been told so his entire life, and at this point, he just counts it toward some of his charm. It is, however, something that he can’t exactly turn off. Which is why the second that he opens his mouth and questions the ex-soldier in front of him, he already knows it’s a mistake. “Who was that?”

The flip phone snaps shut with a force that echoes around their small motel room. “Nobody.”

The single word is as gruff as everything else. With a huff, Mac looks away. “Okay, fine. I don’t care who’s on the other side. But if it can be tracked-”

“It won’t be tracked. I know a guy.”

Mac knows a guy, too. Or rather, a woman. Guilt prickles under his skin when he thinks of Riley and the rest of the team. Selfishly, he wonders if they’ve even noticed that he’s gone yet. Check-ins have become more and more sporadic as the weeks have passed. 

“I’ll take first watch.”

“I’m good.”

Eliot glares back, arms crossed. “You’re asleep on your feet.”

“So are you.”

“I can stay awake longer than you could even fathom.”

Mac can’t stop his eyes from rolling. It’s barely been a week since he agreed to work with him, but everyday Eliot finds a way to remind him that he’s braver, stronger, better than Mac in every way. “Fine. Suit yourself.” Mac flops over to his side, turning away from Eliot. The twin sized frame makes an uncomfortable groan underneath him, and the mattress sways. 

Without saying a word, Eliot dropped his duffle on the bed closer to the door the second they walked in, not bothering to even pretend to entertain anything different. It’s been like that since day one.

Or, seeing as how they had been going nonstop for the first forty hours, day two.

“Why do you want to find him so damn badly?” It’s practically the first time Eliot has started a conversation that could almost be mistaken for casual.

Despite himself, Mac turns back, not quite fully facing him, but instead at the ceiling. It’s not possible to explain to someone what Jack means to him, especially not a near stranger, so Mac settles for, “It’s what he would do for me.”

“You sure about that?”

These days? Maybe. “Yes.”

“’Cause if it were true, why would he leave without telling you in the first place?”

“He told me,” Mac bites back. “And he… had to. It was important for him to find Kovacs.”

There are a few moments of silence before Eliot asks, “He tell you who Kovacs was?”

“He told me enough.” And Mac filled in the rest with Riley’s help and the information available in the Phoenix’s records. 

Eliot gives another one of his huffs, clearly not believing Mac.

Fine. Whatever. As long as he watches Mac’s back in the field, he doesn’t need to listen to him outside of it. Trust only matters if they’re in danger. Not in some dingy room, waiting the night out. 

Against his better judgement, Mac asks, “Why did you agree to help me?”

There’s a fraction of hesitation too long to be normal before Eliot replies, “I owe him.”

“From when?”

“From before you were born.”

This time, an eye roll doesn’t suffice, and a humorless snort escapes Mac. “Sure.” He’s heard that one before. “Jack was seventeen when I was born, so unless you rescued him from a stray cow on the ranch, I seriously doubt that.”

“It was before you’d have been old enough to care,” Eliot corrects himself, sounding about as happy as anyone ever is when Mac gets snappy. 

“Were you a Delta?” The look that Eliot sends him is a threat, but Mac’s always prided himself on ignoring the warning signs. “Ex special ops?”

“It doesn’t matter who I was.”

“Clearly it does, otherwise we wouldn’t be here, would we?”

“If Dalton never told you, I sure as hell ain’t gonna be the one to do it.”

The southern drawl, whenever it comes out thick from Eliot, makes Mac want to flinch. It’s so similar. It’s too similar.

“You oughta get some sleep,” Eliot says, finally moving to sit at the edge of his own mattress. “Couple of long days ahead of us.”

“You should too.”

“I told you-”

“First watch, yeah, I heard it. But you’re not going to be any good to either of us if you’re tired.”

“I’m fine, kid.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You just worry ’bout yourself. And maybe try doin’ that once or twice out there, yeah? I’m not saving your ass twice in one week.”

Much like his accent, the words hit far too close to be comfortable. 

Clenching his teeth, Mac turns back toward the wall. He’ll never be able to fall asleep with his back to the door, but it’s about the principle of the action. If Eliot wants to act like an asshole, that’s fine by Mac. Just as long as he expects the same treatment that he’s dishing out. 

[i-cant-sing]

im WRITING NOTES AGAIN!!!

ok so i had to reread the ending of TTAU pt 9 cos i was confused on why y/n was crying! but im refreshed, that’s just so sad to me. it must’ve felt very dehumanizing with how the royals (specifically Miriham ) treats y/n and to have her niqab ripped off of her. and her broach stolen too, but idk if she cares for that. i’m mostly focusing on the niqab being her coverage and her way to feel closer to her religion. idk maybe im reading too into it.

AGH BALDWIN MENTION!! RAHHHH RAHHHH RAHHHHH

Ibrahim PRAYING to have y/n fall in love with him too. I FEEL SO ROMANTICAL!! that’s just too cute , it’s not forcing y/n to be with him but hoping she comes to love him aswell , RAHHH I LOVE IT

also i feel like with him wanting her…idk if he’ll actually help her get Out. maybe get out of the royal area , or something. but idk about…letting her leave him?! it makes me suspicious but then he prayed for her and now idk…his intentions just seem 🫨 to me. it’s shaking me around

mustafa bringing more broaches for y/n to wear, i wonder if he realizes that mihirmah is taking them without asking yet. or if he fr thinks y/n is still giving them away cos she doesn’t care.

im so stupid for not finishing that paragraph before writing something.

“there's no way he doesnt know Mihirmah is the one taking them when she openly flaunts them in his face.” is deadass the next sentence

“Baris asked as he looked through your closet.” i bet, he’s judging so hard. his ass is the type to throw something out cos he thinks it’s ugly.

another baldwin flashback 😭 STAWP , i’m trying to hate him in peace

"Because... I have to look for a present for Mustafa." SHE PLAYING BARIS LIKE MONOPOLY “present for Mustafa ☺️” LIAR !!!

"Have you stolen it?" RAHHHH I FEEL SOMETHING WEIRD IN MY TUMMY! DOES SHE KNOW ? DOES SULTANA KNOW SOMETHKNG SHE SHOULDNT ?

“Have you stolen what you came for? What exactly were you looking for? Mustafa's gold? His jewels?" bruh nvm. i’m stupid for thinking she’s smart.

“Just like Isabella, he will betray you every chance he gets.” that’s gotta be rough. like y/n has no one. literally no one. she’s just by herself until she can get home to her family, to her brother. i mean, y/n is clearly capable of surviving on her own, but it must be incredibly lonely and sad ! RAHHHH Y/N ! GOVE Y/N A BREAK!

“But... where did the portrait go?”

1. one of the boys has it hanging up cos “oh it looks so similar to the loml” 🤮

2. someone took it as black mail and is going to accuse y/n of witchery

3. it’s getting fixed up from where bladwin made out with it and they’ll find out it looks so similar to y/n and think y/n is related to royalty cos “why did a king 400 years ago have this portrait painted IF NOT IT BEING THE LOVE OF HIS CRAZY ASS LIFE ! AND Y/N IS A DESCENDANT AND CLEARLY NEEDS TO MARRY ONE OF THE BOYS THIS INSTANT! “

4. someone burnt it for y/n already

“ "I may not know how to hunt, but you do. So... shall we?" You asked patting the horse. “ y/n just makes herself seem like the weirdest person ever in both time periods cos she just wants to get OUTTA THERE! she does Not care if they think she’s crazy, she’ll say whatever to get where she needs to go.

“You both stared at each other, heaving and trying to catch your breath before breaking out into a laughter.” this horseback riding/chase scene is giving Anthony & Kate love story in Bridgerton. next thing we know Mustafa is gonna be going 🥴😵‍💫🤯 for how y/n smells. (this joke is gonna be lame if u haven’t seen bridgerton, i apologize)

“And somehow, you would soon hit the bullseye in his heart.” this shit corny as hell.

do it again

“…looking off into the distance as you remembered the old couple who helped you.” RAHHH I FORGOT ABOUT THAT! thats so saaaaad,

“‘…Maybe I'll see them there, just from a distance?" Mustafa nodded at your request. How could he say no to such an innocent ask?” *5 Seconds of Summer’s song Wrapped Around Your Finger starts playing *

“Those words, that praise... isnt that what he's yearned for all his life?” oh damn. this dude fell in love with a time traveling scammer. get in liiiine buddy, GET IN LINE!!!

“Doesnt he ever deserve to even delude himself that he has a chance at being the next sultan?” this whole paragraph just opened this character to me in such a naked way, it makes me FEEL REAL EMOTIONS! STOP IT! 🤮😭 also #daddyissues

“ "Wherever it'll be the most prominent." He smiled gently. “ hey, i’m just gonna jump off this cliff rq, ok? but fr tho? THIS IS TOO CUTE!! idk y/n’s plan with this is cos she doesn’t NEED to get him a gift, maybe it’s to get closer with him so he’ll have more leeway with her walking off without him? i’m under the delusion that she might be falling in love tho 🤷🏽‍♀️

“…or the way his heart warmed when your pupils dilated and he was ready to give you the world if you asked for it.” her pupils dilated ? well, she’s definitely attracted to the man 😀 right ? RIGHT?

“ "crochet your anger away, Y/n." “ I LOVE LEARNING ABOUT Y/N’s FAMILY!! THEYRE TOO CUTE !!

“…you finally sighed exaggeratively, as if this wasnt exactly what you wanted.” awe damn, mother fucking bitch. I AM DELULU! I HATE IT! i should’ve known, y/n is a scammer girl 4 lyfe 😣

“ “I do. But unfortunately, I had given it away to a Roman diplomat as goodwill." “ liar. he’s got it. i’m calling it rn. he’s got IT ! HES HIDING IT SOMEWHERE!!!!!! RAHHHH U LIAR!!! I DONT TRUST ANYONE NOW!!!!

“By the time you two left Manisa, Mustafa had decided that he was going to marry you.” damn bruh. u quick asf with that, huh? u love y/n thaaat bad ? OOOOH u wanna kiss y/n soooo baaad! he’s a little simp! simp! simp! simp!

“Mustafa doesnt have Suleiman's respect. “ oh damn that spiral was a little crazy. i like that. that’s my type of spiral.

“…he could only hope you dont mind that he lied to you about the portrait.” …i knew it 😩 I KNEW IT 😣 YOU CANT TRUST BITCHES ANYMORE ! WHAT HAPPENED TO HONEST GODLY MEN WHO DIDNT LIE 👹 AND CHEAT 👹 AND BE MEN 👹 ! RAHHHHH

“For him to stare at, to clear his mind as he peered into those eyes above the paint smudges, that looked eerily similar to yours.” hey now. let’s all chill out and not look into that, ok! let’s just stare at the portrait that was made 400 years ago, and is missing the bottom half of its face cos of no reason what so ever. don’t ever try to make a artist try to replicate it. don’t do anything crazy.

“On returning to Constantinople (present day known as Istanbul),” instantly reminded me of that scene in Umbrella Academy w/ Five fighting all those agents in a doughnut parlor. (i keep referencing things and just hoping you know one of them 😎)

“…your eyes being trained on the sad man who was busy buying vegetables.” RAHHH STOP I FEEL SO SAD ! THESE TWISTS OF EMOTIONS ARE TORTURE (i’m jk, i love being melodramatic)

“…but deep down, he knows he only stepped in to impress you.” HEADASS! this dude a simp.

“Mustafa threw a pouch of gold coins and told him that the debt is paid. Period. “ period 💅🏽

him still thinking of y/n saying she’s proud of him? HES SO INFATUATED WITH HERRRRR RAHHHHHHH

“…not knowing about the shit storm that was about to come.”

1. mihirmah is mad

2. the other lover boy (Mehmed) is mad

3. the sultana (that ISNT mustafa’s mom) is mad cos her kids are mad

“…but it seems like sweet talking didnt make a dent on you” ok? bitch tf? SAVE MY GRANDFATHER FROM GETTING HARASSED AND PAY OFF HIS DEBT! then we can talk, tf? Y/n DOESNT OWE U ANYTHING BITCH

“ "You're clearly accusing me of something, so say it." “ oh man, i just love when a women doesn’t let bitchass men walk over them. PUT HIM IN HIS PLACE GIRL ! YES BITCH!!

“…they still stay here, only leaving when the sultan takes them along." “ you saying only a lady’s baby daddy or real daddy can take them out of the house ? get the FAWK out of my face , THIS DUDE GOT ME MAD!

“Is he- did he just say you tempt men?” barf. this man is the definition of “i trust You, i just don’t trust men around u,” BITCH SHUT UUUUUUUUPPP

“…but the moment these men know that you're a woman, you're meat for them.” this sounds like projection, mother fucker. get into some therapy. BARF

“This veil that you seem so proud of?…” why did this make me feel attacked? this made me even more upset for y/n, cos ??? y/n has every right to be proud of it even if “It only makes men to want to rip it off you more”, that isn’t Why y/n wears her veil. maybe i’m not using the right words or expressing my feelings right but it just made me really mad.

“but you're wrong if you think I'm using my veil, my covered body to invite men to stare at me." “ oh beautiful. she put it into words for me.

"I AM THE NEXT SULTAN! I AM UNDER NO OBLIGATION TO MAKE SENSE TO YOU!" the gasp that i just gusped!! HOW DARE YOU!!

“His hand reached up and grabbed your niqaab, threatening to yank it off you.” i’m feeling VERY VIOLENT THOUGHTS!

“Do you think you can stop me from making your worst nightmares come to life?"” 😮.

“he found it necessary to reprimand you.” 🤢

“He patted your cheek to make you nod, and he finally backed away and left you alone in the hall.” 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

“how Mehmed had lifted up your veil and traced your skin.” that was a deadass traumatizing scene between the two and all the palace bitches got from that was “ohhhh they’re in loooooove” SHUT UUUUUUUP

“You want Mustafa to lose- you want Mahidevran to lose!” oh this bitch is crazy. her thots spirals just like her sons, apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

“..it doesnt register at first the hard smack she delivered to your face.” god damn. y/n never catches a break in this awful place. GET HER OUT ! GET HER OUT NOOOOW!!

“Hurrem turned to look at you, grimacing at your bloodied face.” oh god damn. i just hate everyone atp.

“…then that is what I will say- Mehmed did this to me.” y/n is too smart for her own good. FUCK THEM BITCHES UP WITH INTELLIGENCE GIRL!! GET THEM WITH UR UPDATED SCHOOL TEACHINGS!!

“But if you were to help me escape-" “ i hope to god this bitch helps y/n leave PLEASE GOD PLEASE

“Baris walked in with Mustafa, Mehmed and Mihirmah, all looking at the state of your injured face.” oh damn, my girl isn’t wearing her niqab 😩

“…it was Mehmed's eyes that pricked you and you quickly grabbed your veil, tying it around your face to cover it.” he’s cool for that, ig. i still hate him and want him to die and want him to fall on his face and break his nose and i want his dad to stop loving him.

“Suleiman's eyes widened at the state of your face- bruised, bloodied and swollen.” THIS ANGST IS CRAAAAAZY! DUDE ITS CRAAAAAZY !! I GET WHY Y/N WONT SNITCH BUT PLEASE ! PLEASE ! LET SOMEONE BE SMART ENOUGH TO FOGURE IT OUT ON THEIR OWN ! (i’m asking for too much ik) WHERE THEY CAN IGNORE Y/N TRYING TO LIE ABOUT HOW SHE DOESNT KNOW! PLEASE

“No. No, she couldnt have.” YES SHE COULDVE U DUMB BOY! PLEASE ! PLEASE ! JUST FIGURE OUT UR MOM IS A DUMB BITCH ‘ PLEASE

“ Suleiman's sixth sense was keeping him unsettled” NAUR BITCH ! ITS MORE LIKE A 5 1/4th OF A SENSE ! UR SO CLOSE BUT SO FAR ! PLEASE ! SOMEONE PLEASE !

“ Her hands hiding under her sleeves.” OH THANK GOD ITS A FR 6th SENSE ! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!!

“ "It’s okay, sultana. It was an accident." “ i did all this begging and for WHAT? whyyyy y/n ?! whyyyy do you have to care about the timeline and the fact that you’re literally controlling the future with what you doooo! whyyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!

“ All this time, I thought she was cheating on you but Hurrem set her and me up. “ so CLOSE! YOURE SO CLOSE! Hurrem’s son is just a fucking crazy misogynistic that deserves the PLAGUE ! idk what plague, of if there is a plague at this time , but i hope he gets something bad!

“He now understands why his mother wanted him to marry you. You- you are the key to having the throne…” i like that he Just now got it! i like to think he truly likes y/n all on his own without the mission of the throne. it definitely helps his feelings, he gets the girl he likes and the throne. but he liked her fr, just for her.

“…had his blood boiling at the sight of your face uncovered as Baris applied healing balms to your wounds.” is this dude ever Not mad ? gtfo

“He corrected you before turning your face to him harshly” i just realized this dude is a real yandere. like an actual yandere. i forgot that this is what it’s all about. i’m all like “hes dehumanizing y/n!” “hes misogynistic !” like bitch look at wtf ur reading. ofc he is. he’s a yANDERE ! i’m sorry, dear author! i forgot where i was for a second!

"If you can do it yourself, then why let Baris do it? Do you enjoy his touch?" i still hate him.

“…because you dont want to stay in a place without the only sane person who had your back.” as far as we know….as far as we know.

“…besides giving him curt replies, which he doesnt notice because his head is so far up his-“ BARF BARF BARF! i hate him

“Mehmed has fucking lost it, and I need to get out of here right now.” PLEASE PLEASE GET OUT AS FAST AS YOU CAN! PLEASEEEE

"I'm saving your ass. Duh." i don’t trust ur Baris. someone def paid him to do it.

"He's having their eyes stitched up for staring at you." oh he’s CRAZY CRAZY! those poor people! y/n is going to feel so guiltyyyyy NAUUUR ! nawt more trauma ! leave my girl aloooooone!

“Keep a low profile and try not to seduce any more unhinged men.” little does Baris know…theyre in a story written by someone who will definitely have that happen :)! i’m sorry y/n ! i’m sorry for what the author with put u thru!!

“He had been paying me since the moment you set foot in the palace to keep you safe.” ibrahim! I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU IBRAHIM!!

“So thats what Suleiman wanted to discuss with you.” Y/n ! LOVE IBRAHIM! PLEASE LOVE HIM! (i’m jk, but fr, i’m glad y/n is getting out)

“They're in love with me. And when they heard I was leaving, they decided to come along. “ baris, you devil man. i knew you were good this whole time…

“Maybe you just lucked out-“ i don’t want to scroll down. i don’t WANT TO MNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN! I JUST WANT TO TURN OFF MY PHONE AND DELETE TUMBLR AND LET THAH BE IT!!!

“You were struck by lightening.” god damn. just god damn. just- ohmygod! OHMYGOD! HO ! MA ! GAWD ! CAN SHE HAVE ANYTHING ? CAN SHE JUST GET A BREAK FOR A SECOND?’ CAN SHE JUST FEEL HOPE AND JOY FOR A SECOND?!

“ "I know where she is." He stood up, Mehmed following behind him. “ NAUUUR! THE GRANDPARENTS!! THEYRE GONNA DIIIIIE ! PLEASE NO! PLEASE GAWD NOOOOOOO!!!

“She killed herself the next day. She had jumped off the roof, but she didnt die instantly. She died as Hurrem watched from her balcony, and she refused to alert anyone to help the poor woman.” the old couples daughter, nooooo! just nooooooo! at least they can meet with her when they die,,,hopefully from old age!!

"BY THE ORDER OF SEHZADE MUSTAFA! OPEN THE DOOR!" it’s not gonna be from old age, they are Not dying from old age.

“ "Do it. Save Y/n." He told her, but before anyone could react, Mehmed sliced off the man's head, “ IM ACTUALLY CRYING. LIKE FR ! this isn’t faiiiiir! i mean? i know they were gonna die and i kept joking but IT WAS TO COVER THE PAIN! PLEASE NOOOOOO

“Mehmed kicked her in the back and the old lady fell to the ground. “ she died just like her daughter…kinda ? that’s so sad. i’m so upset!

"Fine." He pulled out his sword. "May the better prince win." god damn. just god damn.

“Mehmed was going to win and she needed to be there to witness it.” she’s as crazy as her damn brother. why tf did i think she was a lesbian and in love with y/n. i should’ve known 😣 i was pushing my gay agenda , the republicans r right 🫨 IM JUST FUCKING AROJND! i’m KIDDING

“ "I am better than you. In every way." Mustafa raised his sword to drop it on Mehmed's neck, just as cruelly he had done to that old woman.” SCREAMING! IM SCREAMING!!

“But that will be for another day-“ nauuur bitch. ur brother is gonna kill you! TURN AROUND BITCH ! TURN AROUND’ RAHHH NOOOO RAHHHHH

“People who more than willingly began microdosing Mehmed with poison.” i didn’t Not expect this. ho em gee

“You slammed your fists as the room began catching on fire.” y/n and fire! god damn. you’d think fire is a yandere for this poor girl. ohmygodddd

“The next moment, Mustafa's head was chopped off.” THE. GASP. I. JUST. GUSPED. NAUUUUUR I LIKED HIM THE MOST! NAUUUUR NAUUUUR NAUUUUUR

“It’s on.” oh mygod. OH MYGDOD

“Whatever time you land in, it'll be better than the one where you almost burn to death. Right?” RIGHT ?! RIGHT?! god PLEASE SOMEONE! GET THAT DAMN SCREEN FIXED ! PLEASE !

i’m feeling so many emotions. everyone died. girl when u said “ no one gets hurt “ or something like that. i was like “oh some ONE will die” bitch i didn’t think EVERYONE! the old couple! mustafa ! fuck head! like god damn bruh. i wonder how badly this will fuck with the timeline in the future.

ibrahim is at war rn and waiting to get home to his soon to be wife! the sultanas have lost both of their eldest sons! hurrem has some leftovers, so i wonder who will be in charge next.

the old couple gets to see their daughter again, and i loved how they loved y/n. i wonder why the old lady was choking y/n tho? was it to kill her so she didn’t have to go with mehmed & mustafa?

mustafa dying really upset me too. he had a genuine connection with y/n i feel like (besides ibrahim ofc) and i really liked him. you fleshed out his character so well that it shocked me when he died! he must’ve been scared, surrounded by people who wanted him dead. his mom far away. the love of his life (y/n) meeting an uncertain fate in that random castle. his brother just dying infront of him. i thot he had his army with him too, so im surprised Mehmed’s men were surrounding him. it’s just sad!

BUT SO GOOD! i’m so excited to see how this goes! how far it goes! i’ve really enjoyed annotating while i read as well, i feel like im more immersed in the story! thank you for chapter 10! it was delicious 😩

11/10 review, amazing, showstopping fabulous <3333

and yes, the old couple was killing y/n to save her from being taken advantage of by the ottomans, as their daughter was. in a way, they had good intentions for y/n.

[not-wholly-unheroic]

Fellow Peter Pan fans, if you haven’t yet heard the Ballarat National Theater’s dramatized audiobook version, I highly recommend checking it out! It’s available for free on Apple Podcasts or in the Audible app (and probably other places as well). I’ll include a link below. It sticks pretty closely to the novel in most places but departs from it in a few ways that I think, for the most part, actually really add to the story rather than taking away from it. (Note: If you don’t want any spoilers about how the audio version differs from the actual novel, stop reading now and go directly to the link. If you want all the details, keep reading below the cut.)

A few things I noticed and found particularly interesting that the audio drama changed or added to the novel include the following:

- We get an actual voice actress for Tink and even someone doing the “voice” of Nana’s thoughts rather than just having the narrator read them.

- There is at least one bonus pirate and one bonus lost boy because??? The bonus lost boy is named Pockets (assuming after the character in Hook). The bonus pirate is called Chameleon.

- Skylights breaks the 4th wall and tells the narrator he doesn’t want to die as a demonstration and the narrator basically comes back with, “Sorry, that’s too bad, but this isn’t your story so….”

- Hook has a middle name and it’s the one Disney uses in Jake-verse (Bartholomew).

- Tiger Lily’s people are called “The Neverlanders” and are generally treated much more respectfully than in the novel and most other retellings in general. Their tribe is said to speak a language that is a precursor to Latin.

- The fairies crossing over Peter are on their way home from a “fairy ball.” I cackled because, man, that’s one of those, “If you know, you know,” things that most probably wouldn’t pick up on but I found hilarious. (It was definitely a ball and not an orgy… 😂)

- More 4th wall breaking by Tiger Lily, telling the narrator she was perfectly capable of escaping from the pirates herself.

- There are a couple of short breaks with these extra scenes. In one, the Lost Boys are griping about how the narrator is taking forever to get back to the story and reading over reviews from listeners.

- During a fight scene when Mr. Smee pulls out “Johnny Corkscrew,” we get a “Heeeeeere’s Johnny!” 😂 Definitely not a reference I was expecting!

- In another very cute short interruption, Mr: Smee is making soup and claims it has a bunch of disgusting stuff in it but Wendy is sure he’s joking and says it’s actually alright but missing something. The boys all start helpfully adding things they’ve found or brought with them—some of which are questionable—and then they ask Smee to try it. He acts like it has poisoned him and they’re all very concerned before he pops up with a, “Boo!” and they all laugh.

- Also, it’s hinted at one point that Mr. Smee may be a “Mrs.” in disguise. This may simply be a joke about the fact that the voice actor for Smee in this version is a woman or it might be something else. I suppose it’s left up to the listener.

- Peter has a few interesting parallels with Hook. Near the part where he is flying away out of the nursery window to leave the children, he has a quote that is very similar if not the exact same as one that Hook gives during his soliloquy.

- I’m just gonna say it straight out… I LOVE what they did with Hook in this version. They kept the dual casting of Mr. Darling and Hook and he’s the perfect actor for it. He has the sort of “growl” and the way of rolling his R’s that reminds me in some ways of Hans’ performance. They also do some great but subtle parallels between George and Hook. And during some of Hook’s rambling/soliloquy moments, we get most of what is in the book but it’s interspersed with a few things references to Shakespeare and Pilkington (a character in The Little White Bird who was based on a real-life teacher and who was sort of an early inspiration for/iteration of Hook). The ending for Hook is painful but incredibly well done. This Hook reacts to the crocodile much like “my” Hook does… When he is thinking, “The crocodile is about to board the ship” and when he asks the men to hide him, he starts just…repeating himself over and over in an increasingly desperate tone… Then, later, he has this almost…sigh of relief when Peter kicks before, “Bad form,” which is said less as an exclamation and more like…he’s releasing this weight off his shoulders. After the narrator says, “He went content to the crocodile,” we hear Hook humming something which I believe is the same tune we later hear Mary Darling playing in the nursery on the piano as the kids are coming home (“Home Sweet Home”). There is a quiet splash and a growl from the crocodile…and he’s gone. It’s perhaps the gentlest and most poignant ending I’ve seen done for Hook, and I really loved it. Mr. Darling is later heard singing a snatch of a sea shanty (“The Maid of Amsterdam”) and it’s like this little piece of Hook lives on. It’s just…super lovely.

So yeah. Love this version. LOVE this Hook. Go give it a listen!

[gogz-ee]

My Wimbledon Champ ( 1 )

Author’s note: kinda similar to the last one I deleted. (This will have multiple parts and I also replaced Zverev with Jannik because he didn’t deserve to reach the finals.)

You were far out in the stands watching the 2024 Roland Garros Finals between Carlos Alcaraz and Jannik Sinner. You were hoping that Jannik would win this match because you had a little crush on him and also because you had been supporting him for a long time. After a while you heard the words, Game, Set, Match, Alcaraz.

You were never a big fan of Carlos at all. When u heard his name the only thoughts that formed in your mind were, overrated, and self-centered. To you, when your favorite player lost you were never that sad for a long period of time. The most being like 30 minutes or something. But this time when you heard those words from the umpire’s microphone, you couldn’t help but feel like breaking down.

Jannik has said that this tournament meant a lot to him, and seeing probably his biggest rival win was sad, not just for you, but for him and everyone supporting him.

Later that day, you were in the hotel lobby when you see a very familiar face. Carlos Alcaraz.

Even though you didn’t like him, you wanted a picture with him to show off to your Carlos-obsessed friends. You didn’t expect much other then to get declined or get annoyed stares even though he won.

“Hey, your Carlos Alcaraz right?”

When Carlos turned around and saw your face, he looked mesmerized, a much different look then you expected.

“Uh- yeah! I am.”

You hesitated a little before asking your question “Can I get a photo if thats okay?”

His face didn’t change at all and he continued to eye you down. You were still confused by his look but didn’t ask further questions.

“Yeah! That’s completely okay.”

You pull out your phone and take a selfie. You thank him and begin to walk away slowly as you text your friends to show off your picture with him.

Carlos was so stuck in his thought remembering your beautiful face features, he didn’t realize that you had walked away until the next couple of seconds. He began running towards your direction.

“Hey! Wait I had a question for you!” you turned around to see Carlos chasing you. This time, your the one giving him the annoyed expression. As you wait for him to answer his question, you also can’t help but to look at his beautiful jawline. You couldn’t lie to yourself, he was hot.

“Uhm- I was gonna ask if maybe you had instagram?”

“Yeah I do why?”

“Is it-“

He was stuttering a lot and it kind of annoyed you, but you waited until he finally got his words out of his mouth.

“Is it okay if I get it?”

You face now turning more shocked than anything, your mouth open, one eyebrow raised, and your eyes wide. Did he just ask you that? Arguably the most handsome player on tour asking you for your instagram?

You decided to ignore that thought, he was just being friendly right? You didn’t think much of it and just gave him your user. He made sure to follow you right away just in case he might forget later.

“Also, congrats on the win” you tell him with a very unhappy tone, you already knew he figured out that you were rooting for Jannik and that made him frown.

“Thanks! Also.. Uh- if you’re free tonight.. there’s gonna be a party celebrating the win? I mean if you wanna come of course.”

“Isn’t that party only for close peopl-“

“And people I invite! So I’m deciding to invite you!”

He seemed very happy to invite you even if you hadn’t accepted it yet. You were starting to get a little suspicious with this whole thing but went along with it. At this point your cheeks were already slightly red.

“Yeah sure, ill come what time?”

Part 1

[tobbesdiscordkitten]

Back again with the erin topic, i’ve read the other day in a online forum that axl caused erin’s miscarriage, i have no idea if it’s true but okay, i’ll give you the link and the extract of it, since it’s in spanish because i’m from Argentina lol sorry.

https://www.guioteca.com/rock/la-terrible-relacion-de-axl-rose-con-erin-everly-una-historia-que-termino-en-violencia-brutal/

This is the extract i meant: “One night in 1989, Erin had enough and went home. But Axl followed her and knocked on her door. He held a gun to his temple and said he would shoot himself if they didn’t get married.” that’s one, here’s the other: “You know how rock is; within its stories, there are chapters that are impossible to verify. The saddest one says that during those days, Erin became pregnant, but Axl liked to drag his wife across the floor. He would grab her by the hair while she screamed for him not to kill her. In one of the musician’s fits of rage, Everly supposedly lost the baby. That was the sign the couple needed to end the relationship.”

At first, I thought a similar way about Erin’s miscarriage because her relationship with Axl was tumultuous, and the stress she was experiencing could’ve caused the baby to die. However, after further looking into this, I can’t conclude that Axl was the sole reason for Erin’s miscarriage. Neither of us know what TRULY happened, but there seems to be other factors that link to her miscarriage. I’ll gladly discuss it below the cut.

Firstly, there are many reasons why women suffer miscarriages. It could be because of environmental factors such as being exposed to toxins, like radiation, or smoking, drinking alcohol, and using illegal drugs. I don’t know if Erin smoked, but I do know Axl took up the habit, and so did a majority of the population during the ‘80s. The second-hand smoke from cigarettes could’ve been a factor. I also hope Erin strayed away from alcohol after discovering she was pregnant since alcoholic beverages can cause deformities.

There was a drug-related incident that occurred between Erin and Steven Adler where she overdosed on heroin. Erin got pregnant in the summer of 1990. Steven was fired from GNR on September 6, 1990. A few days later, Erin got into a physical fight with Axl and went to Steven, asking to inject her with heroin. Steven claims he never injected Erin, yet, both Andy McCoy and Angela Nicolletti, who were witnesses that night, declare otherwise.

Not only did Erin overdose, she was found with her pants down, and many speculated Steven raped her. I’m not sure if this part is even true but I find it odd (and disturbing) how Erin was left in such a state. She was taken to the hospital afterwards and survived. The newspapers manipulated parts of Erin’s story, explaining that the cause for her hospitalization was because Axl beat her when, in reality, it was because of her OD. I’m speculating her OD played a huge part in her miscarriage.

Other reasons why women miscarry is because of food poisoning, diseases, infections, high fevers, and a weakened cervix - known as fibroids - where the cervical muscles dilate too early during pregnancy. It’s possible Erin might’ve had these other problems as well, we just don’t know about it’s confirmation.

Although Axl and Erin’s relationship had become “very strained” by August of 1989, I like to believe Axl beat Erin less and regulated his emotions more after finding out she was gonna have a baby. Why do I believe this? Because, in Axl’s Rolling Stone interview, from 1992, he explains:

My mom's pregnancy wasn't a welcome thing. My mom got a lot of problems out of it, and I was aware of those problems…My real father was a pretty fucked-up individual. I didn't care too much for him when I was born. I didn't like the way he treated my mother. I didn't like the way he treated me before I was born. So when I came out, I was just wishing the motherfucker was dead.

Perhaps Axl was subconsciously aware how his mistreatment towards Erin could affect the baby, making him try to be a better individual, not just for Erin, but for their child. They probably still fought, just not as often, or as intensely as before. In another interview, Axl tells Howard Stern how his relationship with Erin is “stronger than it’s ever been!” He sounded pretty delighted and genuine about it, too. It doesn’t make any sense to me why Axl would act like his father, you know? Hence, why I believe he tried to be a better person.

People can interpret Erin’s miscarriage as a sign that their relationship was gonna end soon. Nothing else was gonna bring them closer together. The baby was their only hope 🥺

As for Axl’s “gunpoint proposal” to Erin, here’s my response to that whole situation => here

Hopefully this clarified everything for you, anon! <3

[freetobeeyouandme]

No new chapter of the Byler Isekai Fantasy AU today because I need way longer for edits than I thought, plus I think I just really need to overthink my posting schedule, BUT in the meantime I'd like to inform you that I already have a long, multichaptered Byler Fantasy AU complete up on Ao3. Just in case you didn't know yet and want something similar to tide you over until I get around to posting again next week.

Through A Dark Glass, Wanting

90k | Rated M | Fantasy AU, D&D inspired AU, Canon Typical Horror, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Suicidal Ideation, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Will Byers is so loved if he only accepted it, Will keeps making bad decisions bear with him

When a dark corruption spreads from the Deep Woods north of the kingdom of Roane, it falls to Will and his friends to investigate the cause. But as they close in on what seems to be the inevitable final confrontation with the Mad Wizard they have been fighting for years, Will finds his magic failing him as the darkness that scarred him during his first encounter with that very man finally overtakes him. Will stands no chance at stopping the demons that have been haunting him – after all how can he fight for a happy ending when he doesn’t believe he deserves one? - Or, Will learns to accept that his friends love him a whole lot more than he thinks they should.

I wrote this one during last year's Byler Big Bang, so it has a lot of wonderful art by the extremely talented @katimanki, and since I really enjoyed working on it I want to give it some love today (also because the next BBB is just around the corner - yay!). I'll definitely be back with the next chapter of the Isekai AU next week, but also be warned that I'm probably going to stick to a three week posting schedule for the last couple of chapters. I very much over/underestimated how long this bad boy would be and how much time I would be able to spend on it, so while I don't like it, it is now what it is.

An excerpt and my usual taglist below (since I'm assuming you might be interested in another fantasy AU as well)

Chapter 1: The Inn at the End of the World

Will spends dinner staring at the dark clouds obscuring the woods less than a days ride away from the inn. Night has already begun falling around them, but the clouds hovering over the trees almost glow a little in the dark, as if to make sure he remembers that they are there. Inside of the clouds he can see the tree tops and dark spots of creatures flying. General consensus is that the Deep Woods are a dead place, but he knows that’s not true. Whatever the shadow touches doesn’t die. It just wishes it had.

An elbow hits him in the ribs, for the second time in as many minutes. It’s only on the second time, though, that he realizes the elbow is intentional – for once this evening.

“Byers, you gonna finish that or not?” Dustin says, wiping his mouth while also eyeing the bread on Will’s plate.

Will wordlessly pushes his plate – the only plate on the table that isn’t completely blank – over to his friend.

Immediately he feels Mike’s knee knock into his, and silently curses the inn for being so packed that they had to squeeze four of them onto a bench made for three. Even with Lucas hanging half off it, leaning over to chat with Max, it’s a tight fit. Too tight. And Dustin’s elbow is nothing compared to Mike’s…well, Mike’s everything.

He can feels Mike’s hot breath on his cheek when he speaks. “Are you okay?”

Will puts on a practiced smile. “I’m fine,” he reassures his best friend. He nods at the window behind Mike’s head. “Just not really feeling hungry right now.”

Mike follows his gaze and sighs. “Just make sure to have breakfast, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. We need our strength.”

Mike returns Will’s eye roll with a tight smile.

Will grabs the half eaten chicken leg from his plate and takes a tentative bite to appease him. Mike, apparently satisfied that Will’s not gonna drop dead of starvation before they even set foot in the woods, turns back to whatever conversation he was having with El on his other side. Will drops the chicken again and grabs a napkin instead.

Dustin pushes the now more empty plate towards the middle of the table. He has eaten maybe half of what Will had left over, leaving the chicken leg and the harder parts of the bread.

He pats his stomach. “Tiamat’s Third head, I’m full.”

“That’s still not gonna catch on,” Will tells him.

Dustin gives him the finger. Then he belches.

Will decidedly turns his nose out of the path, staring instead at the crowd around them. The inn, a small affair just on the border between the Duchy of Hawkins and the impenetrable Deep Woods, is teeming with people. At first Mike had been worried they wouldn’t even get rooms, but that was the one thing The Aleful Dragon had not been short of. They could each have gotten their own, but instead they’d gone for their usual three: One double for the girls, two for the boys. Officially.

Will eyes the tankard in front of Dustin, silently hoping it will stay at that one but knowing that since this is their last proper night in civilization, it won’t. And unfortunately, unlike Mike, Dustin snored when he was drunk.

The innkeeper’s son comes to clear away their table, shyly ducking his head as he does so. In his eyes there is the recognition that had become more and more common over the past two years. This is the Prince of Hearts, Slayer of the Thessalian Hydra and Scourge of the Mad Wizard. This is no ordinary band of would-be heroes at his table.

To everyone’s surprise, it is Dustin whom he addresses when he brings them the round of beers they order as he clears the table.

“You are Dustin the Bold, right?” When Dustin nods he swallows and asks in a quiet voice: “Would you mind if I asked my mother if you could play tonight? We have our house musicians, but…”

Dustin’s grin is wolfish. “Do I ever mind that, my young friend? Tell her I will play all night if she only keeps the beer coming.”

Will doesn’t bother pointing out that the innkeeper's son seems to be a few years older than them, actually. Dustin’s flame is lit and he doesn’t think their bard will hear much tonight that doesn’t pertain to song requests.

The young man runs off happily to tell his mother the news, and sure enough she herself comes to their table to negotiate the deal. It’s a standard contract as far as the work of a bard goes: The drink will be on the house for him and his companions. The rooms they still have to pay for.

It means hell for Will’s ears, but he supposes he can always go to bed early, perhaps be deeply asleep by the time the snoring starts. Considering how long Dustin plans on playing and drinking, he might do that anyway.

Dustin gets up as the innkeeper heads back to the bar. He makes a big show of having to get out of the booth, shooing Lucas and Max into a frenzy. That still doesn’t seem fast enough because he just climbs up on the table to leave it in the end. It’s either some eerie talent or everyone else’s quick reflexes that mean he doesn’t spill any ale as he crosses.

“Sir Michael, my lute if you please?”

Mike looks up at him, rolling his eyes. “Get your dirty boots of the table, Dustin.”

Dustin lifts his chin in defiance. “My lute, I said.”

Will sees how they had been identified in this nowhere inn despite their plain clothes. Even in a simple tunic, visibly mended here and there where it had gotten ripped and torn in previous battles, Dustin strikes an imposing figure. The lute that is leaning against the wall beside their booth could be the prized possession of a simple minstrel, but the confident set of Dustin’s shoulders and the glimmer of knowledge in his eyes identify him clearly as a Bard of the Conclave. Take then his companions and even the people who had not seen Mike’s crown-and-heart shield as they carried their things upstairs were sure to know who was drinking among them.

Mike shakes his head and wordlessly hands over the richly painted instrument.

@smalltownwheeler @wheelerpilled @wrong-energy @foodiewithdahoodie @doggozzy @gardenfairie @beelikesbirds @beverlysclown @yickarus @sourdough-el @hessolivagant @hesquietoday @oldfashionedmorphine @total-serene560 @bylersrise @hawkinsunderground @generalstorecashier @snixx @camel-casing @bylersbear01 @turningsoft @casatoan @maru-chu @mid13s @goldentrunks @bunnybylerfangirl @willbyersenthusiast @letterstomichelangelo @drowninginideas @fluffyfangirl @artsyna @absolutelynotyouidiot @bymarara @unknowmiau @are-you-reddie @elherself134 @longtallglasses @kennahjune @easilyentertained99 @bylerschapter @father-imperator @bylerina

[fordchen]

Chenford + are you jealous?

Not too sure how I feel about that one so I might delete it soon...

Prompt: Lucy took Tim’s advice and went to Undercover School, meeting Noah Foster. The two get close and when coming back to Los Angeles, Tim finds out about Noah…

Lucy watched Tim walk away after having a conversation about UC school. When Tim just wanted to support her career, she took the conversation as a professional break-up. Tim’s way of hinting that they needed to move on from what had happened during their undercover mission. She snapped back to reality when she heard Chris calling for her, walking back into her apartment and deciding it was time for her to have a conversation with her boyfriend. She needed to tell him the truth and admit that despite all her efforts, their relationship was in a dead-end. Surprisingly, Chris felt the same way and after a little talk, he left after wishing her the best of luck for UC school.

Lucy left the next morning to Sacramento. The anxiety creeped in her as she walked into a crowded room, meeting other officers. Yet, she clicked with a person in particular, Noah Foster. They were close in age and had similar backgrounds which allowed them to open-up and feel comfortable spending time together. They found themselves hanging out before and after classes, debriefing and talking about their lives outside of work. It had been a week since Lucy and Tim last talked and she missed him deeply yet never truly spoke to Noah about him besides a few stories now and then. She was trying to just make sense of everything that happened between them, trying to stay hopeful about what the future had in store for them. 

Noah and Lucy partnered up and created undercover personas together, deciding that they would act as a married couple with children for one of Noah’s missions. They had rehearsed their backstories before they finished UC school, promising that they would always have each other’s backs when needed. 

—

It had been a few days since Lucy came back from Sacramento. When she got back to the station, she kept to herself and kept some distance between her and Tim. Being back to Mid-Wilshire after a month away felt different, and the day continued getting weirder when she saw Noah walk into the station, giving her a smile. “Hot pants!” Noah called out, a wide smile on her face as he reached Lucy. He gave her a big hug. “I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. I’m here for my mission, I’m gonna need help. I almost got ambushed yesterday…” He began explaining to her before their conversation drifted towards more personal topics. They shared some laughs and hugs, being close.

Lucy hadn’t noticed Tim standing in the bullpen, watching the two of them in the distance. He had his hands resting on his duty belt, in his classic Tim Bradford stance. He observed the two of them carefully, noticing how close they seemed to be. It suddenly hit him, jealousy taking over his body as he observed Noah hugging Lucy once again, but kissing her cheek this time before they got into the roll call room. He did not realize he was late for roll call until he heard a voice behind him. “Hey Bradford!” Angela spoke, a smirk on her face. “Forgot you have a job? What’s wrong with you?” She asked, yet knowing exactly what was going on. 

Tim immediately shook his head and glanced over at his best friend, rolling his eyes. “Mind your business, Lopez.” He growled before hurrying to the roll call room, sitting down at the back of the room. He found himself staring at Lucy, quickly looking away when his eyes met hers. They hadn’t had a chance to talk yet, something that was to change as Grey assigned the two of them together. Noah would be riding with them as he knew Lucy and she was familiar with the case he was working. 

—

Lucy and Noah chatted as Tim drove, causing him to be tense and rather grumpy. He desperately wanted Noah to shut up and get into someone else's shop, yet he knew damn well he had to tolerate the situation as he had no other choice at the moment. Noah’s phone suddenly buzzed, receiving a call from his station to provide him information about his targets.

“Hot pants, give me a few seconds…” Noah said as he grabbed his phone, immediately answering the call.

Tim glanced over Lucy when he heard the nickname, feeling his heart drop. He gave her a rather disgusted face, trying to contain the rage he felt deep down inside. “Hot pants?” He repeated, his tone down as to not disrupt Noah’s call. Lucy immediately turned her face to meet Tim’s eyes, giving him an innocent look. “That’s an inside joke.” She laughed before noticing how tense Tim looked. He had a tight grip on the steering wheel which accentuated his arms muscles. Her smile slowly faded as she slowly realized that Tim was jealous. “Tim…” She began saying before Tim cut her off. “Later, Chen.” 

—

After a long day, they successfully helped Noah’s mission. Tim and Lucy walked into the station, knowing that they had to talk. They went to get changed and met in the parking lot. Tim’s eyes were darker than usual and he remained as tense as he had been in the morning. “Tim, let me explain…” Lucy tried before Tim cut her off once again. “Lucy, I have eyes. I get it. I made you go to UC school and you met someone else. It’s fine. I’m happy for you.” He said without meaning the ending. “Noah’s probably waiting for you, I don’t know why you’re standing here with me.” He added as he headed towards his truck before he felt Lucy grabbing his hand, stopping him from getting away. “Tim.” She said again, this time her tone was more firm. “Can you let me talk? Noah is just a friend. We bonded at UC school but nothing happened between the two of us… In fact, he knows about how I feel for you. He was quite pleased to meet the Bradford I kept referring to.” She admitted, a blush spreading on her face. “Yes, I thought you were pushing me away when you came to encourage me to go to Sacramento. Being away from you just made me realize you are the one I want, Tim.”

Tim listened to Lucy attentively, noticing how close to one another they were. He searched Lucy’s face, feeling his heart rushing in his chest. He suddenly felt stupid for jumping to conclusions. Looking back, it had been clear that they were friends and not lovers. He could also tell that Noah sensed Tim’s jealousy and played along to tease him. He let out a deep sigh, looking quickly around them before kissing Lucy softly, keeping the kiss short to not get caught. “You’re so hot when you’re jealous though…” Lucy teased Tim, laughing with him as they headed to their cars. 

[ejzah]

The Other Shoe, Part 12

***

Kensi chewed on her thumbnail, eyes focused sightlessly out the window. This hospital room overlooked the rooftop of a different wing of the hospital, as well as a parking lot. A faint beeping echoed in the background, barely noticeable at this point. She couldn’t believe how much time they’d spent in and out of these rooms in the last year.

They’d spent the last month preparing for today; Deeks’ kidney transplant. She felt equally relieved and terrified by the idea.

“I think I saw a hawk fly by earlier,” Deeks said, slurring the last couple of words a little bit. She turned around, finding him watching her with one eyebrow lowered. “Might have been a helicopter.“

“I guess they really did give you the good drugs,” she commented weakly. He’d been changed into a gown and prepped for surgery maybe twenty minutes ago. She knew Sam was a few rooms down, going through a similar process.

Taking the seat next to his bed, she rested her forearms on the edge of the mattress, finding herself examining Deeks’ features. Over the months, she’d gotten used to the changes in his appearance. Now she let herself acknowledge just how thin and exhausted he looked. It was in the faint yellow tinge to his eyes and his unnaturally pale skin.

“Hey, do you want to build a boat?” Deeks asked, surprising a laugh out of Kensi.

“What?”

“We said we’d build a boat, yet we never did. Now we have no boat and no van.”

Kensi pressed her lips together, recalling the first time he’d asked the same question, throwing it out flippantly. The reminder of everything they’d been through since that day had her swallowing back tears.

“I’ll build you all the boats you want, baby,” she promised. “Canoes, boathouses, paddle boats. Whatever.” A tear worked its way down her cheek, and she tried to wipe it away before Deeks could see.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Deeks clumsily reached for her hand, cupping it loosely against his chest. “Whatever happens, it’s going to be ok, Kensalina,” he assured her. Just don’t run off in that boat without me.”

“I’ll be here waiting for you when you come out,” Kensi said with a wet laugh, smoothing his hair back from his forehead. “In a few hours, you’re going to come out with a shiny new kidney.”

“Sounds fancy.” His voice slurred a little more, and his eyes drifted closed for several seconds.”

“Mrs. Deeks, we’re ready to bring him down now,” a nurse interrupted gently. Kensi stood and moved to the side as two additional nurses raised the rails on the bed.

“I love you,” Kensi murmured, leaning over Deeks to press her lips to his.

His upper lip lifted slightly, and he brushed his fingers over her cheek, muttering.

“Love you.”

“We’ll be back before you know it,” the head nurse told Kensi with a kindly smile. Stepping back, Kensi watched them wheel Deeks from the room. Once they were gone, she tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling in an attempt to keep the onslaught of tears at bay.

***

A/N: I’m not sure if you’re supposed to kiss someone right before they go in for surgery, but we’re gonna let it slide.

[hmtaxidermy]

Howdy! I’m a fellow taxidermist from Texas! I went to lone star state school of taxidermy and have been working in a small shop for the past year. I hope to start my own shop one day- do you have any tips or tricks? What was it like to start your own taxidermy business? What’s been the hardest part? 🦌🖤

Hello!!

First of all, I’m so sorry for taking so long to answer this! I promise I wasn’t ignoring your ask. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how busy it’s been. That being said:

Welcome to the club!

(Loooooong post ahead)

Fair warning, I’m just gonna ramble. I also am still in the infancy of running my own business, so I can’t give you anything with too much meaning, but I’ll try.

It’s been a slow start, but every day my business gets bigger! I think having faith and patience truly is the toughest part. It’s so easy to go a couple weeks with no phone calls and start to worry. Rome wasn’t built in a day.

Keep your job at that shop while you build up your business. Only leave when you have consistent work rolling in. I’m not even at that point yet myself! You won’t get a lot of work in under your own business for your first year or two. Take what you can and produce good mounts. The quality will bring in more customers. Never sacrifice it. I’ve gotten a lot of my customers from word-of-mouth alone.

You will need to work on your business’ mounts on your days off. It’s hard juggling your own projects and your day job’s, but you will gain so much needed hands-on experience from your day job that will fast-track the quality of your mounts. Lone Star is great at providing a solid foundation, but I’ve personally found that the repetition of working at an already-successful shop is what’s refined my mounts. That being said, don’t be afraid to look into how the world champions go about their mounts and see if any of their tactics work better for you! (This applies to your business’ mounts only. Mount any work at your job how your boss wants you to.)

No hate to Brian at Lone Star, but there are easier and more effective ways to mount birds than what he teaches. I highly recommend looking into Shane Smith’s tutorials and materials. I personally use Smith’s line of mannequins for all my birds. I think you’ll also find using an artificial beak so much easier than the real one. (Assuming you even took the course that included birds/you even want to offer bird services.)

Not necessary, but I recommend Breakthrough Magazine for tips and tricks from award winning taxidermists. It’s also just nice to look at the competition mounts.

Make a good website for your business that includes a gallery! People are only going to go with you if they like how your mounts look. You can check my website as an example. (Shameless plug: harvestmoontaxidermy.com)

Another hard thing for me, personally, is price-setting. When I first opened HM, I was too scared to price too highly, afraid I’d scare off customers. Don’t do this. Yes, you may scare away some folks, but you’ll find that people are willing to pay your prices. Don’t shortchange yourself, especially with how much work some of this stuff takes! Look up other taxidermy shops in your area and see what they charge as a reference. I can’t tell you exactly what everything should cost because it varies from area to area. My euros may be more or less expensive than the euros in your county.

—

On the more legal side of things:

Go to your city hall and register your business/business’ name. Look up your business’ name ahead of time to make sure no one else has it or something similar in your area.

Use Wildlife Resource Documents (can be found for free on the Fish & Game website) when you intake customers to legally transfer the ownership of harvested game from the hunter to you.

If you plan to work on birds, get a Migratory Bird Permit to be able to legally store and mount them. Do this months ahead of offering bird services. I submitted for mine and didn’t get it back for, like, 5 months.

I like to fill out a WRD when a customer comes in and fill out a “mount desired” form on the back of it. Have your customer sign both sides, agreeing to the WRD and to the mount/price. (Pic attached)

Get a Sales and Use Tax permit. All businesses in Texas (small or otherwise) are required to collect and pay sales tax. Look up what your sales tax rate is in your area. Texas has a flat 6.25% rate, but some cities will add an additional percentage on top of that.

Pay your taxes. You’ll most likely have to pay your sales tax quarterly. You can do so very easily on the Comptroller’s website. You still have to pay income tax at the end of the fiscal year just like everyone else, but you get to deduct your sales tax payments from it!

Open a business checking account with your bank. I don’t remember if it’s illegal to conduct business via a personal checking account, but last I heard it’s at least highly discouraged. It’s also nice to keep it separate either way.

—

Other than that, look into getting catalogs from supply companies! McKenzie, Van Dyke’s, Matuska, Jetz, and Headquarters are all great for mannequins and general supplies. I’ve also got catalogs from TASCO, Joe Coombs, Payer Eyes, and Woodland’s Scenes-n-Nature just in case. I also love using The Taxidermist’s Woodshop for all my euro plaques.

You’ll mainly be using McKenzie for your supplies, but it never hurts to have back-ups. Sometimes a customer prefers a mannequin only Jetz sells, or sometimes you prefer how one company sculpts mannequins for a certain species over another. The more mounts you do under your own business, the more you’ll figure out which product lines suit you best. It’s all trial and error.

—

I believe this should be the majority of it?? Please feel free to reach back out if you’ve got a question over something I haven’t covered.

TLDR; Register your business, get Sales Tax permit and Migratory Bird permit (if mounting birds), Look up your local sales tax rate, Pay your taxes, keep your day job for a while, and most importantly, have faith in yourself.

You’re going to do some amazing things ♥️