#this has been rotting in my drafts and i needed to set it free

[benny-the-spaceman]

one of these days im going to release my tlm drafting headcanons from my notes app purgatory and that day is Today.

HERE'S HOW I THINK LEGO MOVIE CHARACTERS WOULD PREPARE AND MAKE DRAFTS

...under the cut

Batman

• Fairly good at drawing. Somehow able to draw straight lines without a ruler perfectly fine every single time but otherwise nothing super noteworthy (he does brag about this constantly however)

• Drafts in white and yellow posca pen??? will use white colored pencil for finer detail however, specifically one of those mechanical colored pencils

• Drafts on black paper because he thinks it makes his designs cooler (it doesn't)

• Dimensions in imperial and would be annoyed if you dare even *insinuate* he use metric. no justification here

• Doodles around his drafts, specifically likes to doodle bats and himself because he, once again, thanks it makes his drafts cooler (the bats kinda do)

• Refuses to leave notes on his designs. you either know what to do or you don't

• Does however write his drawing title obnoxiously large

• Used autocad for like a day, hated it, switched to solidworks and never went back

• Buys autodesk licenses for the rest of the masterbuilders. unwillingly, mind you, wyldstyle just knows his credit card information and abuses it

Benny

• Good at drawing exclusively spaceships. big shock i know

• The king of eyeballing a line or an angle and then labelling it however the fuck he wants. proper measurements take time he could spend drafting or making more spaceships, he'll save measuring and straightedges for drafts he deems important enough

• Uses blueprinting paper. there's no practical purpose for this, he just digs it

• Drafts with whatever writing utensil is on hand

• He gets inspired quite often so he usually keeps a drafting notepad on him just in case

• Leaves a *lot* of notes. Most of them are completely unnecessary and are a funny contrast to his haphazard dimensioning

• Pretty dang good at autocad! Usually reserves it for projects that require a lot more collaboration however

• Usually drafts in metric, can dimension in imperial but prefers not to

• 100% sets autocad to the light background like a monster

• Do not give him any 3d modelling software, he might blow up the computer

Emmet

• Either really good or really bad at drawings (obvs leaning towards bad. we remember the break in plans)

• Dimensions in imperial. I cant justify this one he just does. god bless america or something idk

• Owns a couple drafting pencils but rarely uses them, most of the time he drafts in marker or pen much to the chagrin of anyone who needs to read his drafts (or delight if you're unikitty)

• Started learning how to use autocad after taco tuesday and he's actually pretty good at it! he does use an architectural dimstyle for everything though which is particularly annoying when he's quite often not drafting buildings now

• Has labelled and colored layers 👍 enough said

• Uses disgustingly thick lineweights. horrible.

• Rarely if ever 3d models so he's not good at it, he mostly works on things that 2d conveys better anyways

• Although he's not the best drafter of the master builders, his construction background makes him the best at reading drafts, give him a unikitty draft and he can decipher it like it's nothing

Metalbeard

• Probably the best at drafting of the master builders, he's got the age advantage and lots of practice from making ships

• Drafts in pencil, quill, or charcoal depending

• Who needs straightedges or angle stencils when youre basically a pirate cyborg, expect robot like precision

• Doesn't use standard measuring conventions, instead opts to use the dumbest things possible. The Sea cow's units of measurement were seagulls. It isnt that he cant do normal units of measurement, he just prefers his made up ones

• Makes his drafting paper by himself

• Pretty good with 2d and 3d modelling surprisingly. He doesn't like either, however, he much prefers drafting on paper

• Leaves an average amount of notes on his drafts but has the most disgustingly fancy cursive and writes in his piratey english. Often a nightmare to read if you aren't used to his writing

• Will sometimes do blueprint swaps with Benny wherein they critique each other's work. not sure when they started doing it, but it's become a weekly activity for them

Unikitty

• Worst drafter of the main masterbuilder crew. Most people think it's because she's a cat but no she just doesnt take drafting seriously in the slightest

• Drafts like she's making an arts and crafts project. She has put several bottles of glitter on singular drafts and she will do it again

• Dimensions in rainbows, no knows what this means other than emmet

• Gives the longest, most complicated titles possible

• No such thing as straight lines

• Is entirely capable of drafting properly, just refuses to

• Leaves notes that are entirely unrelated to the draft. she wont tell you how youre supposed to connect two objects but she *will* tell you about the sandwich she ate while making the draft

• Doesnt use autocad, looks too boring

• Didnt use any 3d modelling softwares until she realized you can change the appearance of materials. that was a game changer. still much prefers drafting on paper though

• Likes drafting with emmet sometimes since he seems to be the only person who understands her drawings. to this day no one understands how he does it

Vitruvius

• Going blind has, surprisingly, not made him much worse at drafting, just changed his process a bit

• Drafts in pencil

• Probably the person who least frequently drafts of the main masterbuilders. On account of just not needing to and also on account of being dead

• Dimensions in the old anglo-saxon units of measurement

• Doesn't title his drafts and doesnt see a point in doing so

• Leaves the most vague, utterly confusing notes on his drawings. theyre still related to the drawings unlike unikitty's notes, but theyre very odd

• Doesn't use autocad or 3d modelling softwares, partially because he wouldnt really be able to on account of being blind but also partially because he doesn't really know what they are

• There isnt really much to say about his drafting skills he's about as normal of a drafter as a masterbuilder can be

Wyldstyle

• An engineering teacher's dream student. She may not have the amount of experience metalbeard has but she's still very skilled

• Doesn't like drafting on paper and won't if she doesn't have to

• When she does draft on paper she uses a drafting mechanical pencils. she also 100% collects them

• dimensions in metric to exactly 3 decimal places

• leaves very few if any notes (always very concise ones if included)

• has a case of staedtler stencils that she bought 4 years ago and never uses

• picked up a habit of doodling on drafts from batman but will never admit she got the habit from him

• Autocad PRO. Also really damn good at solidworks and fusion. Give this girl a computer and she'll give you a motorcycle assembly within the hour

• Specializes in automotives

• Spends time with Emmet on the weekends teaching him how to use digital drafting softwares (this process was incredibly frusturating at first but gets easier with time)

[feather-dancer]

Tales of Arcadia fanfic recommendations part 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here! Several of my own are currently getting scrubbed for improvement to make them more readable. Currently goal is for all of Spotlight being completed by the end of the year.

Been a while huh? This has still been sitting in my drafts though even when my brain decided “Nope not reading” for a while. Still got quite a hefty backlog to read through along with authors I’m subscribed to for their most recent works as and when they pop up. Regardless, determined to get back on top of it and unearth things I want to give a shoutout to because it’s cool shit :)

To you, fans past and present and surviors of RotT Tales of Arcadia fandom.

General Tales of Arcadia

But Everything Hurts - You don’t come back from death with a free pass and Douxie’s fall from the castle cost was chronic pain for an immortal’s lifetime. He was told to learn how to live once, now it is learning to manage.

Of Hunger Pains and Old Habits - Food is hard when you’ve spent a very young life without it until life takes a strange turn and it becomes plentiful. Died in habits are hard though, Douxie will hear the unconvinced whispers for the rest of his life.

almost there - When Jim heads off until the Darklands alone Toby and Claire try to hold themselves together not knowing if he’ll ever return. This is set post season 1 and is wonderfully bittersweet.

Our Little Viginette - Moppet faces the end of an era with the fall of Camelot and (Temporary) loss of Merlin after the Battle of Killahead.

A way to cope - Jim pretends to cope with the trauma of being in the Darklands a lot better than he actually is, as long as he keeps the breakdowns out of sight then nobody can worry right?

dandelion eyes - In which Bellroc discovers the concept of nail polish.

Adieu - The final moments of Angor Rot

Saudade - It’s perfect. They beat Gunmar, nobody died and he can finally enjoy being a teenager again, Thinks Jim. Then why if he stops ignoring the feeling for even a few seconds does it all seem so hollow...?

Rise of the Titans

The Last Changeling - Jim escaped the timeline filled with mistakes in hopes of making things right. He didn’t account for those left behind to grieve or the changeling that suddenly found himself as the last.

I Can't Pull the Sword From the Stone - Jim went back and now Toby is the new Trollhunter which should be smooth sailing right? Except history is refusing to repeat it’s self exactly, little elements are already changing and Jim’s experiences have left him tainted with magic he can’t control along with all the memories and traumas. It’s hard to grieve for someone who is technically still alive but everything you had is gone without a soul out there to understand.

More is all you need - Jim has gone back, something stupid by his own admittance, however in sorting through his thoughts he comes to a realisation.

Stricklake

Comes Around - Post Trollhunters season 3, it’s a struggle to figure out what to do when you have a cradlestone full of babies and a changeling that no longer is but you have to just try and muddle through somehow... Perhaps a chance to try figure out what your relationship is meant to be too now things have calmed down a bit.

Media Consumption - Wholesome fluff that also involves Wally and creating an addict to the HtTyD franchise early on.  

A Measure of Intellect - The goblins are breaking into the stricklake household and they’ve already stolen the blender. The fun part is figuring out exactly what they’re up to. Related to Media Consumption.

enough - Figuring out a normal in the mundane of after everything has happened is quite a lot for a jaded changeling. Very fluffy.

The Wild Hunt - Letting your troll boyfriend hunt is good enrichment but the prize for capture is even better.

The Armour of Daylight - A little glimpse into a high fantasy world where everyone might just be a little bit cursed.

The School Of Janus - This is an AU while also being Stricklake so it lives here. The Darklands are the most prestigious educational process in the world according to their promo material and Jim is prepping to head there while putting off most of his packing as long as humanly possible. Good thing he does really the banter is delightful.

Ink Stains - An AU making an escape in the name of shipping again. Here Barbara married into court politics with her husband being an heir for Camelot and changelings are a secret guard force protecting those important hiding away in plain sight. Incredibly cool world building going on here.

Keen Swimmers 2023 - A collection from last year mostly in AU territory and very tasty. Read the summaries and off you go!

Special Delivery - Very short and sweet, if you’re interested in the ship just trust me and click it.

Locked Rooms - Barbara lost her memory. She doesn’t know how and she doesn’t really know why either. All she does know is that whatever they are seem to be behind a locked door and that strange imagery is leaking into her dreams.

Alternate Universe

Dig your eight graves - It was only supposed to be a fun trek out for Halloween for the Arcadia kids, test out the set up and give feedback so the owner could improve them for when it would officially open the next year. Nobody could have predicted how it’d go so horribly wrong.

Content warning: This fic is marked Mature for character death, body horror, desecration of corpses and for being of the general slasher genre. Please check the tags before proceeding.

Between Daylight and Darkness - The Sunshine AU is back and it’s time for the team to go Trollhunting.So how many spanners can Jim being the nearest equivilent to a were-troll throw into the works of canon? Well hopefully nothing fatal...

Toby's Appointment - Sometimes you need to read very silly things and this is probably the funniest possibility you could find in the dentist waiting room.

The Grave of the Felled Forest - A boy and his familiar go to check out Merlin’s places of power/various stash spots to make sure all is still well. They are not anticipating visitors or his intent to be poked. Part of The Heart of Janus AU.

[shadowriel]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Thanks to everyone who tagged me! I've been a bit out of touch with the fandom this year, but I always love this community we've made ourselves. If you see this or are mentioned below, consider yourself tagged!

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

Almost 22k

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

Just 1 (but it was a banger!)

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

I've started 3 new fics, adding to my ever growing list of WIPs

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Whiskey Over Wine (aka the country Feysand AU I didn't know I needed). It's completely self-indulgent but also incredibly descriptive and well-written?? I'm currently drafting the Nessian instalment, and it's reminding me how much I love the setting.

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

Probably Until Sunrise, which was my gift exchange fic for @witchlingsandwyverns. I am normally a modern AU girlie, but I really thought the perfect gift would stray from that and incorporate the kind of emotions/dynamics that work better in a different setting. I'm so so happy with how it's turning out so far - I think it's a great combination of my typical banter with an added level of yearning!

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

is this what home feels like? which is the recent Feysand nanny/single dad AU I started. I've had this idea at the back of my mind for forever, and it really surprised me when all the bubbling thoughts finally clicked into place.

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

Maybe is this what home feels like? ... I was too anxious to make a Tumblr post about it, so it was a bit under the radar in terms of me talking about it

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

So, so many! @witchlingsandwyverns and @velidewrites come to mind, but I have a million pieces of fanart that live in my head rent-free. I don't know if they have Tumblr but @/flavie5dub on IG has me in the best kind of chokehold.

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

Can I just tag everyone for this??

@howlingcaptaincommando (@talons-and-teeth) directly helped contributed to the brain rot that is masked!Az in from the ghost of your lips (to the haunting of mine). I genuinely heard @tunaababee shrieking about Cowboy!Rhys as I wrote Whiskey Over Wine, so that was incredibly motivating.

And these people inspired me in so so many ways: @yourstarsmyscars @thesistersarcheron @foundress0fnothing @damedechance @wilde-knight @separatist-apologist @the-lonelybarricade @reverie-tales @bearbluebooks @witch-and-her-witcher @thelovelymadone @foreverinelysian (and genuinely everyone in UBC)

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

I'm pretty sure this is the first year I read a fic by @bibliophiliaxvignette , and I was lucky enough to have her as my secret Santa for the gift exchange! Our vibes match so well, so her writing has been an amazing discovery.

And @the-new-ribbon! Their gwynriel makes me such a giggling mess, and I love it!

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

None this year!

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

My proudest accomplishment is that I actually found joy in writing! 2024 was an incredibly challenging year for me and, for most of it, writing felt impossible, but I'm glad there were times that it provided a much needed escape.

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

It's an ongoing lesson, but I've been realizing more about how to make writing more sustainable for me. Like in many aspects of my life, I push myself too hard and that often leads to burnout. That's definitely something I'm working on.

14. Any advice you’d like to share with new or aspiring writers?

Above all else, have fun! Write the kind of fics you want to write, and try not to get lost in the struggles of writing "better" or producing more content.

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

To not put too much pressure on myself!

I'd also really like to reprioritize all my old WIPs and give myself permission to abandon some (even if I feel myself attached to them). Beyond that, I've been dying to do a full re-write for the STEMinist fics (but that may be something for 2026)

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 87

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here.

Days 85-86 here

***

84. “Oh, the things I'd do to you if we were alone right now...”

***

But seriously? Going to her rooms? What the hell did he expect to get done there, except fucking her? Protocol dictated they should go to rooms Damian had already swept and secured for himself, which hadn’t been possible for Katarina’s place.

He seethed about it all through patrol, and maybe his punches had a little extra force behind them, because at one point Bruce switched to a private channel to ask, "Did something happen earlier?"

Tim grimaced and jumped off a gargoyle, firing his grapple gun when he'd swooped down a few stories. Arcing to the next rooftop, he replied, "No, nothing. Why?"

"Just checking. You've been quite . . . enthusiastic, tonight."

Tim grinned, though he felt no amusement. "What can I say? I love my job."

Bruce was silent for a long while, nothing but the Batmobile's engine in the background. Then, with a "hn," he clicked back to the regular comms.

Thanks for the check-in, Bat-dad, Tim thought. He hoped he'd been convincing because otherwise Bruce would be standing on his windowsill when he got home. He snorted with suppressed laughter at the mental image.

What he found at home instead as soon as he returned wiped the possibility of amusement from his mind entirely. Jason, coming up in the elevator on his security camera, Damian's arm wrapped around his shoulders.

Tim flew out his front door to meet them just as they rounded the exit from the elevator alcove. Damian was scowling with the determined concentration of the very drunk, while Jason looked fairly entertained for someone who was currently a human crutch.

"What happened?" Tim demanded, grabbing Damian's free arm and wrapping it around his own shoulders. "I've got him. You hold the door."

"She drugged him!" Jason responded cheerfully. "Some sort of sedative combo the analyzer didn't recognize but it has a lot in common with roofies. He seems to be more with it than he would if it were that. Didn't want to try an antidote when I wasn't sure of the exact composition."

"She did not drug me," Damian contradicted, face screwing up in indignation. "I volunteered to be drugged. 'S very—very different."

"Of course, you're right, that's completely not the same thing," Tim soothed, trying to keep him upright as he nearly bent backwards. "We both know you could never be roofied without consent."

Damian nodded and tripped over Tim's feet while Jason angled past them to close and lock the door in their wake. "Said sh'd be in trouble. S'pposed to blackmail me. 'S the whole reason they sent her. Had to do it."

Tim hefted him back up off the floor and directed him towards his bedroom. "Yeah, there's no way you could have, like, faked drinking it."

Jason chuckled at the sarcasm, but Damian's scowl deepened. "Too many cameras! Too risky. She didn't do anything though. We talked for a while at her apartment while she faked trying to get me undressed, then I pretended to get confused and walked out and Todd got me." He tumbled face-first into Tim's unmade bed. "Why's it smell so good every time I'm in here?" he groaned into the comforter bunched against his face. "Must be you."

Tim was pretty sure his face looked like a tomato. He didn't dare look at Jason, who gave a gleeful cackle. Slipping Damian's Berlutis off his feet, he said, "You need to sleep this one off. Here, scoot more on the bed." He grabbed Damian's shins and rotated his body so it fit on the mattress entirely. "There you go."

Damian flipped to his back and looked Tim over from head to toe with a sleepy appreciativeness that had Tim's face heating for a different reason. “You always look ridiculously good in your costume." He rubbed one foot against Tim's thigh, coming perilously close to his crotch. "Oh, the things I’d do to you if we were alone right now . . .”

Tim, gaping in horror, caught him by the ankle, and Jason burst into full-fledged guffaws. "Don't tell him till I'm gone, buddy." He backed out of the room, pointing at Tim. "I fucking knew it, by the way! I knew there was something going on." His voice faded a little as he moved toward the front door again. "Dammit, now I wish I would've gotten the others to lay bets on who Damian was dating. Everyone would've gambled on Jon and I would've made a killing."

Tim sank down to sit on the edge of his bed and buried his face in his hands. "Please don't tell anyone!" he called, though he didn't bother to keep the resignation out of his tone.

"Eh, I don't give enough of a shit to tell," Jason lied, like a lying liar, and slammed the door behind him.

A tentative touch to his elbow had Tim twisting to check on Damian, who batted his big green eyes at him in a way that made that ridiculous melting feeling return to his chest. "Wanna lie down with me?"

Tim sighed and patted his hand. "I do, but I've gotta shower first. Give me a few minutes, okay?"

When he returned, Damian had stripped to his underwear and was sprawled on his back, arms and legs spread-eagled, faintly snoring. Tim shook his head and turned off the light. Once he climbed into bed, he pulled Damian toward him till Tim could curl around his back big-spoon fashion. He kissed between Damian's shoulder blades and closed his eyes, but before he fell asleep, he murmured, "Dami. I kinda would've gambled on Jon too."

Damian slept on, dead to the world, and Tim willed his mind to stop poking at the hurt long enough to do the same.

day 88 here

[lanarist]

NSFW 18+ Plug! Dabi x Fem! Reader HC

a/n: first off, minors DNI. Second, this is my first time posting any of my writing on any platform. I have so much shit on Wattpad that just sits in the drafts. I am not confident enough to publish my shit writing. I’m shocked that i am even doing this. But I thought about this while breaking up 🍃🍃 for a blunt. I’ve seen so many hcs/Drabbles of stoner Dabi. ....but what about plug dabi

Also I want to mention that I do not condone drug use unless for medical reasons. it helps me with my extreme anxiety. literally saved me. And I 100% do not condone drug dealing. Just wanna throw that out there before you read.

a/n: this shit is SOOO long I’m sorry. I worked on this for like three days.

Summary: literally brain rot. Dabi being your plug HC.

Warnings: drug use, intercourse, dumbafication, oral (f receiving), sexual themes, mentions of alcohol.

I feel like you would probably meet him at some house party. Full of people drunk and/or high off of drugs that were given at the party, the supplier being Dabi for said drugs.

He immediately noticed you when you joined the circle of people passing blunts around, thinking you definitely did not belong here. You looked so innocent with those unsure doe like eyes when a random guy passes the blunt to you.

Gravely mistaken when he watches you puff that blunt like a champ, not coughing up a lung once and throwing back alcohol like it was water. Good girl on the outside but bad girl on the inside? Holy fuck he thought you were hot. He’s gotta get to know you.

After the smoke sesh, he would pull you aside to introduce himself just to get close to you.

Would definitely give you his number saying, “if you ever need anything, hit me up. I got whatever ya need, doll.”

Anytime you text him needing something, he would get so excited. He would drop whatever he’s doing. It don’t matter if he’s in the middle of a sell, dead asleep, at his part time job extra cash, or early in the morning. He’s gonna give you what you’re asking of him asap.

Definitely giving you discounts even on his best shit. Original price for 10 grams is $100? He’s giving it to you for $50.

Also would throw in extra without your knowledge. One time you noticed he gave you three extra grams and tried to give it back to him. “‘S okay. Just keep it, doll.”

Plug dabi would definitely get jealous if you bought anything from anyone else besides him. He will make sure to give you shit for that.

If he doesn’t have what you need at that moment. Baby, he’s going to make sure he gets it by any means necessary if it means he gets to see you for a few minutes.

Will always bring the drugs to you wherever you’re at. No matter how many times you’ve told him you’ll meet him somewhere or come to his place. He doesn’t wanna inconvenience you.

He would always look for you at parties. Once found, he’s dragging you away from everybody to a vacant room, outside, or to his car. He wants to smoke with you alone.

Loves when the smoke rolls smoothly out of your mouth after you inhale it. Thinks you look god damn sexy with the smoke floating around you and your low red eyes look fucking adorable.

If there’s something new you wanna try lsd or shrooms etc, he’ll offer to be with you and to stay sober incase you have a bad trip.

He knows he’s completely infatuated with you, but will not admit it to his friends. Especially Keigo. “You’re fucking whipped.” “Shut the fuck up, Keigo.”

Absolutely hates it when some random dude hits on you at parties or even stands close to you. He’s pulling you away to smoke.

Finally gets the balls to text you one night to smoke with him. “I got some good shit this time, doll. Wanna smoke it with me?”

When he gets to your house, he’ll already have the blunts rolled, a pipe, or anything you want ready for you.

Will hold the blunt to your lips when it gets too small. gets a boner feeling how soft they feel. He doesn’t want you to burn your pretty fingers.

Loves that you match his energy when it comes to smoking. No one has been able to smoke as much as he does like you do.

When he starts to notice the looks you’re giving him, the way your eyelashes bat at him and the lustful look in your eyes. He decides he can’t hold back anymore.

He’ll grab your chin with his thumb and forefinger to face him, softly blowing smoke onto to your lips as he stares at you. Will roughly pull you in closer to smash his lips against yours after the smoke disappears.

Gently pushes you to lay back on your bed so he can hover over you and rest himself between your legs.

No high from any drug could compare to the soft whimpers and moans leaving your lips when he pushes his hips into yours. It was fucking music to his ears.

Absolutely snaps when you tug on his white hair. He’s tearing yours and his clothes off now.

And don’t you dare try to cover that beautiful body of yours. “Don’t hide from me now, baby.”

He’ll start leaving marks on your neck, then down to your breast, taking extra time sucking, licking, biting, and kissing on them.

When he gets down lower on your body, he’s happy to set that you’re already soaking, showing that you wanted this as much as him. He’ll wrap his arms around your thighs, setting them over his shoulders and will go to fucking work on your pussy.

Swears that he could’ve came on the spot from the moans and whimpers leaving your lips. Especially the moan that you let out when he added two of his fingers into the mix.

Will make it a point to constantly praise you while his tongue makes you feel like you’re higher than cloud 9. “You taste so fucking good.” “God, so fucking beautiful.”

Will stop right before you cum. “Nah, baby. I want you cummin on my cock.”

After he’s got you all ready for him, baby you are in for it. He’s waited so long for this fucking moment. He ain’t holding back. He’ll grab your throat tightly as he seethes himself into you. You both gasp at the feeling of pure ecstasy.

Loves your fucked out face. Tongue lolled out. Tears brimming your eyes. Little bit of drool dripping of the corner of your mouth. Hair a complete fucking mess from the many times he’s pulled on it.

His stroke game? GODLY. He’s thrusting into you like a god damn rabbit but he’s hitting all of the right places and it feels so fucking good.

100% rough but his words are the opposite. “You’re taking my cock so well, doll.” “Look so beautiful while I’m fucking ya dumb.” has a degradation kink but that’s for another time.

Aftercare with Dabi is pure heaven. He’ll hand you his shirt from off of the ground for you to wear. He’ll clean you up, light up a blunt for you two, and cuddle you until you both fall asleep.

Oh and, you definitely getting shit for free for now on.

Tags: @bakugosbratx

[virtue-and-beneviolence]

Can you match your mutuals with CSM characters and troupes? Pretty please 🥺

Thanks for the game <3 !!! I wanna apologize upfront bc this is a very very short one. I don't remember CSM super well apparently so i apologize for how few of yall are included here. This was what I could manage after tumblr fucked up my draft and if i dont post it tonight it'll rot in my drafts forever. Idk man send me a part two and ask for a different set and we'll see what we can do (probably reusing characters tho)

@feitania and Kishibe - roommates

Kishibe doesn't need a roommate and he reminds you of that at least 12 times a week but he wouldn't dream of having you leave. He's so much more sentimental than it seems. Who would've thought that stone cold bastard had such a big soft heart? He lets you decorate any room you like for the most part and he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the warmth that comes with another life in his home. You two don't need to fill all the space with chatter but after a while, you do get him to open up a bit and you learn a lot from the man's life. He learns a lot about yours too. Idk, it's just the right amount of cozy.

@the-travelling-witch X Aki - cafe au

Baker!Aki is dying for your attention after the fist time you visit his shop. It was dead on a weekday afternoon. He gave you a deal on some cookies, insisting it was the end of the day, that they'd go to waste. Since then he's tried to catch your eye and your fancy through some new desserts, pastel macarons, and cute little pastries, and delicate fruit tarts. He listens to you talk when you bring some friends to study there. He's not trying to be weird, but he hears you're not from Japan and starts making German treats he think maybe a taste of home could be nice or well he's ... he's trying okay? He thanks the gods the day you ask him why the menu always changes because you finally give him your number with a promise to teach him how to make some real bread.

@sleepy3 and Beam - childhood best friends

Yall have been inseparable for the last two decades. You spent your youth together. You shared nearly all your elementary and middle school classes together and and never struggled to make time for one another. You're the only one who can calm Beam down, you're his favorite cuddle buddy, annnnd the only reason he probably graduated because got he's adorable and all but his attention span is not it! For his part, he gives you energy and hypes you up all the time. He even hypes you up for that date he doesn't particularly like that you're going on tonight because he doesn't think the guy is good enough for you. But he's still gonna help you pick an outfit and tell you how great you look because he's honest and he cares about you and well, he trusts you to make smart decisions.

@drakenlvr X violence fiend - fake dating

He doesn't seem all that interesting at first and I don't blame you. There's not much to talk about since you finished that one project together. You know, the one you two did all the work for while your asshat classmates sat with their thumbs in their asses? All you really knew about galgali was that he was maybe a bit of a pushover sometimes but he was definitely nice. When he came up to you in the dining hall and asked for you to go to a work event with him as his partner just once god i know its weird but please- you figured, fuck it. There are worse ways to spend a Friday evening than hanging around an acquaintance and getting free food and drinks. Turns out he has a crazy history, a crazier job, and a shockingly cute streak.

@violettierre x Power - enemies to friends to business owners lmao

Look I'm not gonna get into the gory details about that relationship you just got out of, okay? It was messy and not at all your fault, but isn't it crazy how all it took was a mutual enemy (the ex in question) to become thicker than thieves with Power? I can just see you and Power skipping down the street and dancing and being chaotic. Plus there's just nothing like it when Power is soft for you. Y'all end up roommates and maybe go in halfsies on a cat cafe for the broken hearted to find their new halves.

[muddshadow]

find the word tag

more words to be found!! thank you @spacetimewraithwrites ! in return... @draculinawrites , @emelkae , @kashacreates , @kaiusvnoir , @sleepyowlwrites, @tc-doherty​ , and @blind-the-winds​ ... i am bopping you all gently on the head. and anyone else! feel free to find these words and tag me!

your words ; review , grow , expect , black , glare

INSIDE // trystan

“Did something happen?” he asks me.

I want to reply sarcastically because what a stupid question, but that worried little pucker in his lip makes me hesitate. “Bumped into some old pals today,” I say, shaking off his hand. The words taste like bile. “But you know me. I prefer to run away from all my problems.”

“Who did you—?”

“I’ll tell you later. Don’t wanna bring any bad juju into the syrup, you know?” I grab the Crown Royal by its neck and stand from the counter. “I think you told me that too. Alchemy pulls from your emotions. Or was that about making curses?”

Sebastien isn’t satisfied with my watery response, but he does me the service of dropping the subject.  “It’s both, you ass. Maybe you don’t need the dream syrup. There’s nothing left inside your head.”

“Only my fondness for you.”

“I hope a witch steals that next.”

INTRODUCE // at the bottom of the waterfall

Stirring, thinking, Ysabelle dared another compliment. “Your purging is getting pretty good, too. Is that the school you want to study in?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t decided yet.”

Ysabelle glimpsed meaningfully to Lo, who lounged crooked but comfortable against the far wall, mostly bored but always attentive. Dew collected the floor around them. They narrowed all four eyes at her.

“A smart magician is capable in all schools, of course.” Ysabelle tapped the ladle clean and set it aside. “But you know… purging is especially important right now. Like at the chasms, for instance.”

Louis looked up.

“A terrible idea,” Lo said resolutely.

Ysabelle continued, “It might be a good place for you to learn more of that field. Or other things. Whatever you expect to learn from destruction.”

“You’re really serious? You’ll take me to where I grew up?”

“Well, let’s be fair here, that’s a hefty journey and I’m only considering an introductory trip to the chasms. Strictly educational. Just so you understand how the environment changed after the whole… when I…” Ysabelle cleared her throat. “Seems the draught is ready. Have you readied the papers? Ready the papers.”

INNOCENT // to forget a prince (old draft)

But he didn’t like this stranger asking questions, and he didn’t like her avoidance of his own, so Kon demanded, “What’s your business here?”

“I told you—”

“Innocent bystander. Right. Standing in the forest, by yourself, with no supplies?”

“Innocently bystanding,” she corrected. “My supplies are with my horse, probably scared halfway across the continent by now. I believe that one’s your fault?”

INTELLIGENT // trystan

Sebastien feels courteous enough to come by my apartment a little before eight. I wait outside until he putters up to the corner in his immortal, busted up minivan. Tonight, the upholstery smells like rotted garbage. I’m quick to inform him.

“Just finished a batch out of the trunk,” Sebastien says. He has the tendency to talk at his own pace, like every other word needs a careful look over. When we first met, I thought he was mocking my intelligence, but I learned pretty quick he prefers to do that without subtlety.

INSPIRE // to forget a prince

A ladder cut steeply into the bluff, complete with foot shelves, hand holds, and a bolted safety rope that looked like it might hold one person for a moment or two and then nothing else afterward.

“Hm,” Diorre said, uninspired.

“Hard to miss. Good thing the hungered almost tossed me off the edge,” Yulei said with a grin. She started for the ladder. “I’ll let you know if I see any. Screaming means I’ve been ambushed, and silence means I’ve been ambushed effectively.”

“You’re not really going down there.”

But Yulei showed no signs of reluctance, talking as she tightened her satchel strap and tucked the folds of her shawl. “It’s a really important research project, I’m on a deadline, and my professor is a bit of a hard-ass. So, uh, I’d say it was nice to meet you, but it wasn’t really. Good luck!” She slotted her boot in the first step.

INSPECT // at the bottom of the waterfall

He found some shade under a stand’s canopy and waited for his final order to box. After heeding all the vendors’ chatter through the morning, he didn’t feel like talking any further and maintained a firmly grumpy expression to scare people off.

But a stranger approached anyway.

“Good morning!” the strange man hailed with a wave, undeterred by the scowl. “Or is afternoon now? The sun works quicker than I manage to! Do I have the honor of speaking with the young novice Louis?”

Equally tall, they spoke eye-to-eye, and Louis found that unusual enough to draw back a step and inspect the man. He was clean-shaven and expensively dressed like an important magician might be, with a flat nose and sparkling eyes and two long plaits of black hair tucked neatly across his shoulders. His grin was positively radiant.

Louis cringed, convinced it was a polished performance, and he really didn’t want to chat with two shopping bags crooked in his elbows. “Magi Lavonde is available through appointment only,” he tediously recited. “And she’s never interested in political solicitations, so if that’s your angle…”

“No, you misunderstand! I’ve a query for you.”

“Well, I don’t talk to strangers. Go away.”

[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

I’m back on my bullshit and we have GOT TO TALK about 13x08 The Scorpion and the Frog; which serves as a good example of why you should not ONLY watch spn episodes with Cas (partially because of that scene I shamefully blogged about earlier - no I will not link that cursed post here).  The episode title comes from a fable in which the villain is the scorpion.  Interpretations of this fable note its uniqueness lies in the concept that “the scorpion is irrationally self destructive and fully aware of it.”

To quote the scorpion, buddies -  “it’s in my nature.”

Anyway, this episode is subtextually predicated on exploring Dean Winchester’s nature and specifically - his bisexuality, and I’m not only saying that because it opens with Dean in his Bi Colors Plaid (that also he wore on his burger date with Cas).

Let’s get started, after the cut!

Season 13 on its face gives me absolute whiplash because it starts widow arc-reunion-TOMBSTONE and then Jack yeets himself off to Chuck knows where so Cas can go out Looking For Him Because Otherwise He Will Definitely Kiss Dean there is no other option for the writers at this point.  Sigh.  Here, have another shot of Dean anxiously cleaning his gun as he always does when Cas has Gone Off For Reasons -

Anyway, this feels like a filler episode at first, but as always they bury the ENTIRE damn world in it and I am here with my dossier to Unearth It.

Lets start with Bart (demon of terrible nicknames and microagressions) meeting the brothers at Smile Diner to talk about some spell or whatever. 

(I am not thinking about the Cherry Pie meta I AM NOT)

THEY HAVE THE AUDACITY to start with these lines immediately introducing the theme of duality, a thread throughout this episode.

BARTHAMUS

Everything. I've been following your careers a long time. You're a real pain in the pitchfork. And the halo. Natural disrupters. We have that in common, you and I. DEAN

Mm. Yeah, we're twinsies.

***MORE DUALITY!  But as we know, Dean does not like Bart because He Is A Freakin’ Demon

DEAN

Well, see, here's the thing. When a demon tells us to jump, we don't ask how high. We just ice their ass.

UMMM excuse me Barting Bacting Boices?  What is that sexual gaze?  

Then we find out that Bart has 1/2 of the spell.  They need the other 1/2.  Oh, a spell with two parts, you say? [ I am going to scream :) ]

***Also, Dean eats the pie Bart ordered.  I cannot begin to explain to you the state of unwellness that I am in regarding how important this is. DEAN NEVER GETS TO EAT THE PIE, remember?  But in This Filler Episode, Dean eats the pie. While Sam looks at him with a very quizzical expression.  Pie -> what Dean wants but never actually gets -> Dean actively eating this pie.  Dean is coming to terms that maybe he can have what he wants.

***I am reminding you again that this is post widower-arc, post-reunion, and especially post-Tombstone.  Anyway-

Now we get to Smash and Grab.  Not literally even though I want to Commit Such Conduct at this point.  We are introduced to two one off characters named 

Smash (human/female presenting) -  can crack any safe built by man 

and Grab (demon/male presenting)-  expert in bypassing supernatural security.

Reaching or no, you can’t disagree that when spn introduces one off characters - it is almost always a Narrative Parallel or Mirror.

So we have a human and a demon (and Dean Winchester, a human who has been a demon)

who are experts in cracking open/bypassing something that has been secured and guarded (breaking down walls, if you will).  

They also use fake names identifying them as Tools to be Used ( Dean Winchester, the Michael Sword/daddys blunt little instrument)

BONUS:

Dean himself is literally used as a tool in this episode.

So yeah.  Smash and Grab are physical representations of Dean’s duality.  Human/Demon.  Femininity/Masculinity.  Dare we say something else, too?

Anyway, Dean is paired with Smash and Grab; Sam is off to idk negotiate weird artifact purchases lawboy style with Luther Shrike, a man who cannot die so long as he never leaves his house (I cannot even begin to unpack this shit; please just sit there and think about it.  I’m not even going there here.  I CANNOT DISCUSS Luther Shrike RN).

Speaking of things I cannot discuss without halgdhsag;lsa - Smash has very Specific boots (a look overall, really).

DEAN

Hey, Winona. The '90s called. They'd like their shoes back. SMASH

Shh.

***That’s right girl - do not take his shit; he actually LOVES them and is therefore Overcompensating for it with this little jab.

***Dean’s pop culture references and particular attention to the details here Should Not Be Overlooked.  90s! Winona! Ryder!

ANYWAY, then Dean and Smash bond over a caffeinated beverage -

[While Dean is doing a spell, Smash opens a can of drink, takes a mouthful and burps loudly. ] SMASH

Ahh. DEAN

You're weird.

***This scene makes me literally insane. (even aside from Dean living on something named NERVE DAMAGE as a KID.  They could have called it anything. You’re saying this wasn’t a Choice)  

She chugs a swallow of the drink and burps.  Something stereotypically associated with masculinity.  Not feminine.  Dean’s reaction is that she is “weird” - because she is not acting in a way stereotypically, J*hn Winchester brain-rot patriarchy bullshit-tily associated with Being Female.  But also, says the stupid show, they like the same soda.  They are The Same.  She shares the soda with Dean.  HIS FACE WHEN SHE DOES -

Other similarities are addressed throughout the episode (they are working for demons because they have no choice; they don’t discuss feelings/emotions, they both sold their soul, they both This Thing - 

DEAN

You know, we could help you. SMASH

No, you can't. I gotta take care of me.

etc. etc.) Smash is absolutely dean-coded.

****Also it’s textually established that Smash thinks Dean is attractive -

GRAB

[looking at Smash] Oh. You said he was just a pretty face. SMASH 

Shh.

***But Grab flirts with him too.

DEAN

I will kill you. GRAB

I bet you say that to all the girls.

***sorry, Grab - you won’t get far with Dean, but only because as he mentioned in the beginning of this episode - 

Drowley rights.

Now Dean has to put his hand in the mouth of this stone lion thing and all of a sudden he is acting....very-not-like-Dean.

[Dean looks again and takes a deep breath.] DEAN

I… how about this? What if I cut myself, put it on, like, a little piece of paper? We'll just wad it up and throw it in the mouth, okay? Okay. 

***Dean Winchester, who has been to Literal HELL, who has been torn apart by hellhounds, who has battled the devil and angels and God’s sister - all at the expense of his own life is now - afraid of spiders.  Well, technically he has always been afraid of spiders, but why isn’t ‘he being performative about it At This Time??

***Come to think of it, this sends me right back to how Jackles was playing Dean in 12x11 Regarding Dean THE episode dissecting Dean’s performative masculinity [one day I will clean up and post that analysis sitting in my drafts like a sad hamster]. That makes sense actually, because -> -> ->

that episode and this one are both written by Meredith Glynn.  Girl get in I want to torture you affectionately with a barrage of questions.

So here we have Dean and he’s not performing for Reasons, and he’s scared he’s genuinely scared of putting his hand in this stone lion-gargoyle-pig-creature’s mouth and then -

Smash gives him a push.

She gives him a push.  I cannot stop thinking about how she gives him a push.  A push to go do this thing that he is scared of; his fear being something he was hiding under his performative masculinity. Smash - dean coded dean mirror who does not perform femininity and is ‘weird’ -  she   gives   him   a     p u s h.

***linking here for the jackting joices that follow.

Now, let’s circle back to Smash’s story; why she is working for Bart in the first place -

SMASH

You think I wanna be here? Like I have a choice? SAM

You made a deal. SMASH

Wow! You think? SAM

You sold your soul. SMASH

And if I could take it back, I would. 

there is no reason for this picture here other than I needed you to see the jackting again

***How does the story end for Smash?

DEAN

Take care of you. [Dean glances down at the box, and then at Smash. She sees that Dean has put a lighter on top of the bones.]  BARTHAMUS

Alice, chop chop! 

[Bart indicates she should get his bones]. SMASH

Yeah. [She grabs the lighter and sets Bart's bones alight. Bart screams as he bursts into flames. ] 

***She accepts help and breaks free from the narrative, literally burning it down. The female presenting but not female-performing “weird” ooc representing a side of Dean breaks FREE because she makes a choice.  The lighter Dean drops? It’s a push.  And she goes with it.

Alice reclaims her story.

(Also, Grab gets ganked.  The male presenting ooc; the performative masculinity side; the demon; the darkness; the not-humanity - gets ganked).

Guess what Dean says to Alice when they say goodbye?

DEAN

Hey, Alice. Stay weird.

[I know the peace sign is probably just a Charlie throwback but I’d still like to say duality.  Two. ]

Dean’s not just talking to Alice.  He’s talking to himself; because the walls have been breached and for once Dean isn’t as scared of being different.  Maybe, just maybe, he’s going along with the push.  That’s exactly how the episode ends - with Dean feeling a little more hopeful, a little more at peace; a little more Considering he is capable of not only loving Cas but also not hating himself for it. 

[until the knowledge that Mary is still alive and the guilt of allowing himself ANY happy thoughts instead of looking for her miserably rears its ugly head in 13x09 and round and round we go but for NOW at least -> ]

DEAN

I'll drink to that.

(oh look Dean is just wearing his henley.  It’s almost as if a layer has been peeled back).

tagging @im-shaking-like-milk​ and @deanwasalwaysbi​ for letting me ramble on to them while writing this; and @lilac-void​ because you are always so kind about my stuff :)

[mydrug-is-dragonage]

Veda Adaar, A Letter from Home

The balcony off my room had great light in the morning. The sun shining through the clouds, the crisp mountain air, spring properly arrived and ready to melt into summer. My belly swelled, slowly but surely. No kicks or stirring, a growing bump where they said a child would be. I hid myself in long, flowing robes and oversized tunics. I spent most my days here, staring out the window, feeling the sun on my skin. I wondered if this was the feeling my parents missed, living in this cold land so far from their home. I sighed and looked out at the mountains, so calm with the wars ceased. The sky still bore the thin green scar.

The week after the healer confirmed the child, Lace came into my room with tea. “Hey, V.” I nodded and waved her in. She handed me the cup and we settled onto the sofa. The fire crackled, I pulled my robe closer around me and placed both hands on the warm cup. “I haven’t written the Divine yet,” she said.

“You haven’t written or you haven’t sent it?” I asked.

“Sent. I’ve written a draft,” she said.

“Do we have to send it now?”

“No,” she paused. Her eyes stared at the burning logs. “We will have to tell her soon, though.”

“I suppose we can get it over with. Not like it’ll get any easier,” I sighed. I took a sip of my tea. My hands stayed on the cup, the warmth passing through my palms.

“She’ll make it easier to keep this quiet, if that’s still what you want to do,” she said.

I swallowed and stared out, the sun setting, the chill of the mountains taking over. “I want to keep it quiet. I’ll tell a few friends, in time, but for now it needs to stay with only those we trust the most.”

She nodded. “Have you written your mother yet? We got another two letters from her this week.” I shook my head. “The Divine considers her trustworthy. She hasn’t betrayed any Inquisition secrets thus far.”

“I know,” I said, “I just don’t know how to tell her.” Lace tapped her feet. “Go on, you’ve got a mind full of something.”

“Veda, she loves you. She loved Bull. She’ll be thrilled.” I took another sip of my tea.

“She does love me. She did love Bull. She also loves my father and will certainly tell him,” I said. Lace started to speak, but I interrupted. “Pa never trusted him. He had his reasons, of course.”

“I think he’ll support you more than he hates Bull,” she said.

“You’ve met my father. Do you really believe that?”

“He’s a hardass, but he’s always been bolder in affection than hatred.” I nodded, took another sip of my tea.

“Lace, can you bring me a fresh candle and ink?” She nodded and went to fetch them. I settled into my desk.

Tama,

I’m sorry I haven’t written. Lace tells me she’d get you informed about the immediate developments. I’ll also admit I haven’t read your letters. I’m going to, I keep them in a safe place. I simply haven’t found the time or the gumption. For being so brave, I’m so afraid. I don’t know why. I’ve face dragons and magisters and time travel. I suppose the risk there is death. Dying never seemed as scary.

I remember the stories you told me of when you were a girl. A young apprentice baker, elbows deep in flour. You wanted to be a Tamassaran, raising the children, guiding their growth, comforting their hurts. I suppose it’s the closest thing to motherhood in Par Vollen. They didn’t let you into the priesthood, though. They didn’t let you raise the babies and cuddle them, tend to their wounds. They sent you to a small bakery near the sea. I remember the gull songs you’d sing to me as we wandered along the coastline of the Waking Sea.

Pa never told me the same stories you did. I pieced them together from stories you’d told me. Pa, part of the antaam, stopping by your bakery for bread in the morning. Pa, the good soldier, making jokes as you packed his rations You, the naughty the baker, sneaking him sweetened bread, baked with too much sugar. His hands lingering on yours too long in front of the baker. You two sitting on beach, the sea lapping the shore, your hands finding their way to each other’s again. When I got older and understood the Qun, I always wondered how you weren’t quaking with fear. To love, while not forbidden, was certainly not allowed like this.

When you fled, were you afraid? Crossing through Seheron and Tevinter, Pa joining mercenary companies to gain passage, did you regret it? Did you miss the calm of the bakery, the friends you left behind? Was he worth it? Was I worth it? Were you afraid?

I remember when you sent me off with my first company, an apprentice myself, unsure of the power in my fingertips. I remember Pa standing, arm around you. You held back your tears, but I saw your eyes well up, so afraid for your only child, your only daughter. You wanted more for me than mercenary companies, killing for my dinner. You sang from the Chant of Light, you warned me of magic, yet it came to me anyway, taking me away from you. The first letter I got from you started and ended with, “May the Maker guide you.”

He guided me through mountains and valleys, along the seas. I’d seen the Free Marches, Nevarra, Orlais, the South Western corner of the Anderfels, all while learning to protect myself from demons, manipulate the fade to bend to my very will. The best, of course, was when I’d come home, a year older, a head taller, hardly the child you’d sent away, still so far from real womanhood. You fussed over me so, made goat pies, asked about the places I’d been and the joy I’d found. When you went to bed, Pa and I sat outside, looking towards the sky, the moon so full and hungry. He took a sip of the wine you’d opened, offered me my first glass. He put his arm around me and pointed out constellations. He said something softly, the sounds still ringing in my ears, “We wanted better for you. We wanted safer for you.”

The first time you visited Skyhold, we’d stopped the demon army, but we hadn’t yet gone to Halamshiral to save the empress. You wore a simple cotton dress, you hair braided down your back. Pa put on his nice shirt, his horn caps. You looked so nervous around the nobility. They didn’t know what to make of you. The deafening whispers, everyone so curious about the new Qunari amongst the Inquisition. I heard you sing from some Canticle as you walked towards the throne, up towards my room.

I was scared then, too, my mission unfinished, the Magister still on the loose. When we got to my room you gave me the biggest hug. “My little girl has gone on to be something so much bigger!” You beamed, your own daughter the Herald of Andraste. Pa hugged me too. While I was pressed against him he whispered, “I’m happy you’re safe, for now.” Pa pulled away and glanced at my neck.

The dragon’s tooth was heavy. It rested against my skin, cool and smooth. He didn’t say anything, eyes stuck on the tooth. Your eyes were stuck on me, until Pa’s hand reached your back. Your gaze went where his rested. I can hear your voice now, the surpise and curiosity, “Veda, is that….” your voice trailed off, so Pa, forever your rock, finished for you, “A necklace of the Kadan.” He didn’t share your curiosity.

I said yes. No use in lying to you. I felt my heartbeat in my ears. Your eyes widened when you asked me, “Do you have a Kadan?” I nodded, so unsure and afraid. Not of my love. I knew I loved Bull. I hoped he loved me, but the two of you, seeing me in love with a man closer to your age than mine, a Ben Hassrath agent no less. You two joined me in Herald’s Rest, we found a small table in the corner upstairs. Pa drank a full ale before Bull came to join us. It was awkward, so painfully awkward. When Pa excused himself, I wanted to be sick when Bull said he’d take a walk with him. The men gone, us alone at the table. “He’s,” you thought so carefully about your words, “a lot of man.” I laughed and agreed. You asked if he made me happy.

He did. He made me so happy. He made me happy for years. He made me happy dancing at Halamshiral, he made me happy fighting dragons, he made happy in taverns and campsites, in castles and caves. He held my hand in carriages, he held me in cold storms. He took blows meant for me, he killed foes sent to strike me down. I saw the whole future, I saw the danger you and Pa had lived through. I knew we’d have troubles. I knew he’d be called away from me, but he was mine and he made me so happy, Tama. I couldn’t have loved him more.

I assume you know now what he did. Pa was right. Pa, despite walking with Bull, pulled me into a great big hug before he left. Again, he whispered in my ear, “He’ll never love you more than the Qun.” I shrugged him off. What did Pa know? He didn’t know Bull. He didn’t know me or our circumstances. I thought myself so grown then, barely nineteen, but the most powerful woman in the world. I loved Bull. Bull loved me. I was so sure Bull loved me.

I don’t know if love persists once we return to the Maker’s side. I don’t know if he even gets to return to the Maker. I don’t know what the Qun says happens we die. He obeyed the Qun. He did what the Qun demanded. If there is satisfaction to be had there, he’s earned it. At the cost of himself, at the cost of our love, at the cost of my dignity.

It’s been scarcely two months, his body left to rot near that dragon’s prison. I saw my love struck down before me. Cassandra delivered the killing blow, saving me the anguish of having to kill him myself. He’s dead, Tama. He’s gone. He’s gone forever and I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to accept that he loved me and still did this. I don’t know how to accept that he never loved me and felt no guilt. I don’t understand. I don’t understand.

It’s been two months, I’m in Skyhold with Lace and the few others who stayed behind to serve what was the Inquisition. I’m no longer the Inquisitor, I’m no longer a fearsome fighter. I’m no longer someone’s Kadan. I’m just Veda. I’m just Veda and that’s all I’ll ever be. I’ll try to help stop Solas, but I won’t lead the charge. I can’t, not anymore. I’m going to be a glorified advisor, one-armed and tired. All that is so hard to write. Forgive the smudges. I’ve finally cried without violence and I don’t know how to accept any of this, but I do have something I have to tell you.

I’m no longer the Inquisitor, a Valo-Kas mercenary, a Knight Enchanter. But I’m still your daughter, and I’m going to be a mother.

Love,

Veda

Lace sent the raven to my mother, I sat down and finally read her letters, her usual, motherly concern filling each page. Father was doing well, a goat had twin kids. When she’d found out about Bull, the letter was longer. Words about love and loss, the way pain settles in our chest, proving our love mattered at all. Beautiful words, frustrating as they were comforting. I heard her and Thom ringing in my ears. I lounged on the sofa, my hands resting at my side, sometimes settling on the top of it. My stomach was warm and tight. Sometimes my fingers would wander towards my stomach, but I’d pull them away. The child would have to be acknowledged eventually. I would have to care for the child, provide for its needs. But I didn’t have to love it, caress its home. Not yet, not now.

Two weeks passed, visitors came and went, spring got brighter, the documents and plans seemed more convoluted. A sunny afternoon, Lace came to my room with two letters. “I thought you’d want this as soon as possible,” she said. I opened the first, smelled the pages. The light scent of lavender and smoke, the oils mother loved and the constant cooking.

Sweetling,

Asit tal-eb. It is to be. Maraas Kata. Nothing is ended.

Love,

Tama

I held the letter to my chest, weeping. So few words, yet they struck right into my heart. Asit tal-eb, what mother would say whenever we suffered and lost. One summer, before I’d come into my magic, Pa came home furious. He cursed and threw down his sword. They spoke in quick Qunlat, too fast for me to understand. Pa sat down and put his elbows on his knees, his head in his hand. Tama put her arms around his head, rested her head on his. She whispered, “Asit tal-eb,” over and over, stroking his hair. I put my doll aside, walked up beside them. Pa took an arm off Tama’s waist and pulled me into their embrace. She leaned up, dried her eyes, and squatted down to my height. “We’ve got to go, sweetling,” she said. Her voice calm despite it all.

“But I like it here! They’re not even mean at the Chantry!” I said, full of childlike fury.

“They won’t sell us the land,” Pa said. “So we can’t grow food for ourselves. We can’t raise animals of our own.” He sniffed and stared at the wall. His gaze moved down to me, little girl with little horns still budding. “We will try again. Find a new place we can stay. Asit tal-eb.”

I caught my breath and opened the next letter. Instead of my mother’s gentle writing, a harsher, sturdier hand had written it.

Imekari,

Your mother says you are having a child. This means we will be grandparents. I have never known a grandparent. Like parenthood, it is a concept we’ve stolen from the Bas. Regardless, I will inquire with the man who sells wheat what this entails. I presume we will love this child, just as we love you. The stories I’ve heard, being a grandparent is easier. That brings some joy.

I read the letter you sent your mother. I read it a few times. I lost count after seven. You’re not so wrong with your telling of me. I was in the antaam. I tried to make your mother laugh often. We did hold hands when we shouldn’t have. Due to your existence, you know we fled together, children ourselves. We chose love over duty. We abandoned the Qun.

I never told you of the walk Hissrad and I took the day we met. You were right. It was awkward. I hoped for a moment to compose myself. Perhaps find a man to hit me with a stick. Of course, Hissrad chose to join me. We walked along the battlements for some time. He was quiet, as I was quiet. We reached a corner and overlooked the endless mountains. I asked him about the necklace. Your mother and I had never told you of this. Kadans and necklaces of Kadans were a memory we left behind. It had to be his idea. He kept a blank face. I presume he was a very good Hissrad. After some contemplation, he said (translated for your sake), “I mentioned it off hand. We killed a dragon less than a week later. I thought we were just having fun, but she surprised me. She constantly surprises me.” I asked if he loved you. He said yes. I asked if he loved you as the Qunari he was or the Tal-Vashoth he pretended to be. He said (again, translated for your sake. You need to learn more Qunlat. The child should know Qunlat), “Both. I love her as the friend and companion I’d get to have in Par Vollen. I love her as a Tal-Vashoth would love whomever they chose.” When I asked about the Qun and when he’d be pulled back to Par Vollen, he gave meaningless answers. He’d spent too much time around bas, he’d forgotten how to talk to men like men.

Imekari, I was wrong. He’s dead. He died obeying orders. But, presuming this new imekari—Imekari II? Small imekari? Ari-imekari? I’ll discuss with Tama—was not of your planning, he broke the Qun. He knew how to control his seed. We all grow up knowing, waiting to be called for breeding. He made a choice. He violated the Qun.

He died Tal-Vashoth. I wish he had lived to fulfill that betrayal of the Qun. The child will come. Tama and I will come too, to discuss and guide. For now, I’ve enclosed something that gave me great comfort during our great suffering.

You’re still a Kadan. You’ve always been our Kadan.

Your Father,

Beres

Behind his letter there was another piece of paper. I opened it slowly, the creases deep and discolored. Inside was a drawing, crude, of a little house. Two Qunari stood, both smiling. The drawing was labeled, “This will be our house. This is where the goats will sleep. This is where the goats will chase the chickens. This is where Veda will play. This is where Tama will sing to Veda. This is where Pa will squeeze Veda on days the Maker didn’t bring kindness to school.” A smaller Qunari reached both hands up, a parent grabbing each hand. At the bottom, it said, “Home.”

I read and re-read the letter. When my hand drifted to my belly, I let it rest.

[boy-banders-writings]

Clumsy

Group: A.C.E. Member: Seyoonie! also known as Wow (those thighs!!) Genre: Fluffy fluff. I watching Meteor Garden on Netflix so I’m thriving off all the cringy goodness!! Request: Nope, a little drabble Length: Short|medium|long|idk man

(This has been sitting in my drafts for almost a year. I’m on a break from work & really wanted to write some before the year ended. I’ve missed it so much but work had consumed my life this year & Covid has left me raggedy & exhausted! So enjoy this finished WIP!)

Because he takes up so much of your attention, you’ve become pretty clumsy.

Sitting on the side of the tub with Seyoon kneeling before you looking over your handful of scrapes with a thoughtful look on his face was sending you into an embarrassment spiral. 

“It’s a good thing you fell so close to my apartment.” He joked, gingerly poking the bruise forming beside the scrape on your knee.

“Ow!” You hissed, jerking away from him.

“I need to clean your cuts you klutz.” He tugged your leg back towards him.

“I’m not a klutz.” You griped, crossing your arms before the scrape on your elbow stung at the contact causing you to wince and freeze.

“You slipped going up a set of concrete steps, I thought you had broken a bone with how hard you hit the ground.”

“I was distracted.” You grumbled, watching Seyoon gentle dab some antiseptic to a cotton pad and dab at the visible abrasions on your knee, elbow, and hand.

“Oh?” Seyoon paused as he stole a glance at you. “By what?”

“Focus on this please.” You winced when he pressed too hard on your knee.

“Sorry.” He smiled, as he went back to work. “I’ll get to the cut on your cheek in a minute.”

You hadn’t even realized you’d hurt your cheek too, so when your free hand moved to touch your cheek you weren’t surprised when you winced from the sting.

The next few minutes you sat watching Seyoon disinfect, treat, and cover your little wounds. There was large bandage on your knee, which he finished applying with a little kiss over the bandage. It happened so quick you barely noticed and when it processed that he had kissed your knee your face heated up. Seyoon had placed a bandaid much like the one on your knee, with a minor alteration, to your elbow. Much to your surprise with another peck over the bandaid. The bandaids he used on your hand were much smaller and covered the two main scrapes. Instead of the bandaids, Seyoon kissed your palm.

The hummingbird in your chest was making it hard to breathe when you realized just how close Seyoon was. He gathered new supplies before he moved his body to be on he knees directly in front of you. In this position he was eye level with you, he was so close in the moment that you could count his lashes.

His focus was solely on the scratch on your cheek that you’re not really sure how you managed to get. It took him applying some ointment with his ring finger for you realize how gentle he was in that moment. The touches were feather-light. Seyoon seemed to realize just how close he was in that moment because his eyes flickered to you. His movements froze for a moment as he sucked in a quick breath before he finished with a bandaid on your cheek. 

Seyoon sat back and picked up his trash, going to clean up the little mess he had just created.

To say that you were completely and totally distraught when Seyoon didn’t also kiss at least your cheek after the build up would be a lie. You watched him quietly and unmoving from you spot on the side of the tub. Seyoon worked quietly like he always does. He threw away the used cotton pads and the bandaid wrappers. He put away the antiseptic and the antibiotic ointment and placed his first aid kit back into the top cabinet in his bathroom. He was washing his hands when he noticed you staring off into space at the spot where he just was.

Seyoon, who greatly enjoyed riling you up, didn’t dry his cold wet hands but pressed them on either side of your neck to bring you back to the present.

“Ah! Seyoon!” You whined as you pulled the bottom of your shirt up to dry your neck.

He crouched down in front of you with his hands resting on either side of your legs on the bathtub. 

“If you keep getting distracted you’re going to keep getting hurt.”

“So?” You pouted, looking at the obscure and probably abnormal to anyone else group picture of Seyoon and his best friends. “It’s your fault.”

“How is is my fault?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning a bit closer to invade your personal space.

--

“I’m telling you, if Donghun doesn’t quit his shit I’ll end up in jail for murder.” Seyoon rolled his eyes, his friend had been trying his patience all week and thankfully you offered to listen.

“Seyoon, you can’t just kill him. I can’t bail you out.” You laughed, looking up at him to see his eyes crinkled and the cutest grin.

“You’d bail me out?”

“I’d try.” You shrugged, focusing back on the sidewalk. “I can’t let you rot in jail.”

“I appreciate that.” Seyoon tugs you closer and wraps his arm around your shoulders. “Mainly because I know the others wouldn’t even notice I was arrested.”

“I always notice when you’re not around.” You meant to sound nonchalant but it came out rushed.

“I know.” Seyoon continues to lead the way towards the noodle shop by his apartment.

Conversation had died down but the silence was comfortable and his arm around your shoulders counteracted the chill from the fall weather. You adored times like these, just being around Seyoon. The two of you were, the best way to explain it, were in a flirtationship. It was more than just friends but neither of you had made a move to be more no matter how much it killed you.

You found yourself looking at him rather than where you were going as he continued on. His attention completely on the sidewalk ahead of him as he recounted his day stuck with Donghun.

“I’m serious though. He is one of my best friends but today I wanted to leave him at the train station. He was being twice as clingy as Jun usually is.”

“Really? That’s pretty hard to do.” You laughed, “Jun is one of the clingiest person we know.” Seyoon grunted in agreement before he dug his head into your neck.

“It was driving me insane. I could not wait to drop him off back at the apartment he shares with Jun.” Seyoon’s breath was warm on your neck and the weight for his arm was heavy on your shoulders as the two of you paused at the stairs that lead up to the street level you Seyoon’s apartment was on.

The heat coming off of your body was enough to fight off the chill of the cool evening as Seyoon ended up wrapping his arms around you. Your mind was consumed with Seyoon’s cologne and the feeling of his hands resting on your lower back. He gave your body one final squeeze before letting go and starting up the stairs. His hand reached out to tug you behind him.

Your body was reeling with tingles from Seyoon’s hands on you when your body lurched forward. Your toes caught on the first step and down you went, Seyoon’s grip on your hand disappeared as you tried to catch yourself.

--

“Ahh,” Seyoon smirked up at you, “did I distract you?”

You just looked at him, your face and neck heating up. Seyoon’s smirk softened into a sweet smile as his hand moved to rest on your cheek. Your heart stopped as he leant forward enough to feel his breath on your lips.

“I’m sorry I distracted you, let me make it up to you.” Your grip on the edge of the tub tightened as Seyoon moved closer and bumped his nose again yours. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.” You whispered as Seyoon closed the gap between the two of you.

It was sweet. And led to many little kisses, enough that you started to giggle from how happy you felt. Seyoon happily rested his other hand on your hip and laughed with you as he backed up just a bit.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.”

“Me too.” You confessed.

“If you keep getting distracted I’ll have to keep making it up to you.” Seyoon grinned when you blushed again.

“I look forward to it.” You giggled before kissing Seyoon again.

[popculturebuffet]

The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck: The Last of the Clan McDuck!  Review “It Was Worth THE Dime”

This is one of my faviorite comic book stories of all time. Given i’m a massive comics nerd, for both books and strips, that is the highest praise I can give this wonderful, epic, beautifully drawn and deeply emotoinal story. I first discovered it in the local library that had the second volume, and found the rest online at a now long dead fan site. And while it took me longer than I care to admit to really dig into Duck Comics, and even now i’ve only scratched the surface, I can say without a doubt this story is the reason I’m so deeply attached to Scrooge as a character, and that I was excited as  I was for Ducktales 2017. This comic showed me just what Scrooge McDuck should be at his core as a character, and showed me what a wonderful character that is. So with all that glowing praise as you can guess i’ve been wanting to cover this for years, and even considered though back when I was more primarily a comic book reviewer last year. Any time i’ve reviewed stuff before now, i’ve considered it, and with Scrooge’s Sisters Hortense and Matilda presumably and definitely debuting on Ducktales soon, and it’s about damn time, the timing could not be better or clearer to dig into this utter triumph.  But before we can take a look at the story itself we naturally have to take a look at the man behind it: Writer and Artist Don Rosa. Don Rosa is easily one of the best Duck Comics writer out there, seen by many as only second to his own faviorite duck comics writer and God of Ducks, Carl Barks. For those 1 of you who do not know, Barks was the man who created pretty much everything in the duck universe comics wise and a bit in animation too: He created Daisy, Scrooge, Gladstone, Magica, The Beagle Boys, The Junior Woodchucks, Gyro, Little Bulb, Glomgold, Rockerduck, and the list goes on. While he didn’t make EVERY duck, he made so many that it’d be impossible to imagine either version of Ducktales being possible without him.  So of course Rosa was a fan and while he took up the family buisness, he was also an artist and duck comics fanboy on the side. So when, even if it meant a paycut, the opportunity to actually write and draw them came up, he lept at it and thus became one of their publishers go to guys, even if said publisher published the stories overseas where the Duck Comics are far more popular and still going to this day, and ironically where most duck comics printed nowadays get their stories from. Rosa was known for his meticous historical research and gorgeous art that he took his time drawing to get just perfect and showed on the page. The man has easily some of hte best and most detailed duck art around and I still haven’t found a duck artist that can match him.. and if you have or found one close i’d genuinely love to see that. He is a genuinely talented, spirited guy who was sadly mistreated by disney and that, coupled with tragically failing eyesight, eventually ended his career. He’s still around and I genuinely hope to meet him some day as he still does conventions.  The man is not without fault: I don’t get his hatred of superhero comics, as while I get them overshadowing funnybooks and that around the time of his career they were in decline, but it’s just as unfair to write off Superhero comics as mindless.  garbage as it is for people to write off the Duck Comics as “only for kids” and I genuinely wish he’d see that and see how the medium has evolved so much since then. I also grumble a bit as his refusal to allow anything besides barks into his bubble, and having to be forced to include fethry on the family tree, but that’s more personal preference. I like using as much material as you got. IT’s why i’ve wanted to, and hopefully will eventually get around to, write a sonic fanfic using bits of all the various universes that for legal, ken penders being an absolute waste of a human being, and sega being stupid reasons can’t be used anymore. I like taking everything in a franchise and putting it in a blender and it’s why I love the reboot. But there’s nothing wrong with taking things as is, not stepping on toes canon wise, but still being awesome. We’re just diffrent people and that’s okay.  And a lot of his fanboy showing actually lead to REALLY good things: Goldie O’Gilt was a one off character, and while used ocasoinally overseas, didn’t really pick up as a character again until a combination of Ducktales 87 and Rosa’s work with her, as he always loved the character, and fleshing her out lead to her being used more, and gaining a sizeable fandom. He also gained the Cablleros an even bigger fandom by giving them two stories of their own, and fleshing them out a bit more.  And this very comic is the peak of that, taking EVERY mention of scrooge’s past from various backstories to set up adventures, every tiny scrap, and to his credit going to both Barks Himself and various other Barks Experts Rosa was friends with to check his work, especially difficult given he likey had to find these stories in issue or pullt hem from disney archives, and complied it into one long epic that not only uses all this info effortlessly, but spins a compelling story that gives us a clear vision of what Scrooge should be, how he became the man he is, and how he lost himself only to find himself again with the help of three precocious boys and a cynical 30 something duck. So taint all bad is what i’m saying.  As for how this got started, thankfully rosa himself provided the origin story for this project in the back of the volume of his works that contained the first 7 chapters of life and times, as well as detailed notes for every chapter. At the time Rosa was working for Egmont, the big european publisher who handles Disney’s much larger european comics market, hence why most of his stories appeared years earlier in Europe before debuting here. The american publisher at the time , and an old friend of his, called Rosa with an idea: A 12 issue Maxi-Series focusing on Scrooge’s history, since at the time they were all the rage.. and really even today mini series are still a viable market and many indie titles just have several minis instead of an ongoing. So it wasn’t a bad idea, Rosa just simply offered a tweak: He’d tell his publisher at Egmont about the idea, and let her get a crack team of writers and artists to do this proper, and thus Disney could publish it for free once it was done and for no extra cost. Rosa gave his publisher a fax detaling both the idea and the fact that it needed to be done right, given to the best person possible, and done with the greatest care. She agreed.. and naturally handed it to him, as he admits he hoped. She made the right call, a legend was born and here we are.  One last bit before the read more and before I get to the first story itself at last: Since barks wrote a lot of side stories that fit into the canon, I COULD slot them in between chapters, but have instead chosen to review the original 12 part story as was, and do the various side stories and two epilogues, the utterly fantastic “Dream of a Life Time”, easiliy one of my faviorite comics ever, and the also really great “Letter From Home”, which will likely on some level be the basis for the upcoming at the time of this review “Battle for Castle McDuck!”, after completing the story. In other words i’m probably going to be at this for years. so join me under the read more won’t you as I begin the journey of a thousand miles with a single step as we look at the humble start of a legend. 

We begin, after a fun short teaser with present Day scrooge saying his past is no one’s buisness only to get hit with an oh yeah?,  with a scrap book title for the issue, something I want to bring up since while I got that’s what it was what I never got, and  must’ve glanced over when I first read rosa’s notes when I got this copy, was that it isn’t SCROOGE’S scrap book, but his sister Matilda’s who dutifully and happily catologued her brother’s adventures. It’s a really sweet moment.. and something that will hit VERY hard when we reach Chapter 11. If you haven’t read this story or heard of it.. .that’s this story’s equilvent of “Last Crash of the Sunchaser” and clearly Frank and Matt drew from that story a bit for it, but we can get more into the parallels when we get there. A smaller but fun note is that Rosa had specific coin drawing templates, for different indentions and what not he used, and used them for the coins in these intro bits. Yes he admitted he has a problem and yes that’s damn impressive anyway. 

It’s Scrooge’s 10th birthday, and his father Fergus has taken him up to see the family land, Dismal Downs to tell him of the mighty Clan McDuck and show him the ancestral lands, graveyards and Castle. He admits to having taken this long because the Clan McDuck currently lives in Glasgow so it’s kind of a long trip just to show your son “Hey look at the decay and rot that’s our ancestral homeland”. The Clan is on hard times, as a bad shipping deal, the backbone of a rather good barks story and I wont’ be interjecting for every barks reference as it’d get rather tiring though for what it’s worth Rosa provided tons of detailed footnotes in the back of each Fantagraphics collection, so good on him. Speaking of which though they do include 10 pages of Mc Duck family history that was supposed to open this story.. until Rosa’s editor wisely pointed out the story isn’t about them but scrooge and having read his roug draft, yeah.. there’s a good gag here and there, as well as “Dirty” Dingus McDuck, scrooge’s Grandpa and the reason Dewey is cursed with that middle name. Why anyone thought Dingus was a good name is beyond me, nor why Donald thought that was a good middle name back in 2009 is again, beyond me. Good on Don though for getting that past the censors.  But yeah with no money they can’t buy the land back and they were scared off it years ago by a mystical ghost dog, the hound of the whiskervilles. There is treasure in the castle, Sir Quackly’s gold, but he accidently sealed himself into a wall while sealing his treasure in there. Their interrupted by the town assholes, the Whiskervilles who have been grazing sheep on the land and are naturally behind the hound, using the sound of it to scare off Fergus once they realize he’s a McDuck. Because apparently you can keep a Scooby Doo style hoax up for Centuries if you don’t have meddling kids around. Who knew.  Back in Glasgow, we meet the rest of Scrooge’s family: His Uncle Jake, his sisters Matilda and Hortense, and his mother Downy. Jake hasn’t really been mentioned at all in Ducktales and I know next to nothing about him, which given I share a name with the guy you’d THINK I would. I mean I know a decent amount about this Jake. 

But nothing about who the hell Jake McDuck is or why he lives with his brother and his family. Here, you guys watch the dancing Jake, i’m going to probably do that for hours after this review is done, i’m going to go sort this out.  Okay one google and finding the Scrooge Mcduck wiki page on him, Jake shows up here likely because he was referenced in the story “A Christmas For Shacktown” and apparently borrowed from Scrooge and never paid it back. Otherwise.. there’s not a lot about him and unlike the rest of Scrooge’s family he really dosen’t do much that I can remember. Except like 2017 Scrooge, he apparently has become extremely long lived, as Scrooge and Donald STILL think he’s alive in the 1950′s.. and likely is STILL alive in some form in the Don Rosa stories, given his take place after Barks and thus in the 40′s and 50′s where Barks stories were set. Hence why unlike the Reboot, Scrooge isn’t inexpecilbly over 210. But Jake McDuck sure as heck is. Maybe this highlander is a highlander.. you know the movie and tv show type. Maybe someone cut off his head. That’s what i’m going with.

This does bring me to another point about this story: While Barks gave all of scrooge’s family their names, it’s where Rosa got them after all, it’s Rosa who really made them into characters. Fergus as a loving father ashamed his family legacy has fallen and wanting his son to do better than him, Downy as an equally loving wife and mother, Matilda as his sweet and caring sister and later her brother’s moral center, and Hortense.. well here she’s just a babbling baby but her character will become clear and glorious as we go. She is adorable here though and we do get some great bits with her.  Getting back to the plot now i’ve made my points, Jake is riled up wanting to understandably kick the Whiskerville’s asses with Scrooge, who even as a sweet innocent ten year old still has the family temper already, agreeing.. but Downy gently shoots them out pointing that two middle aged-ish men and a 10-year old just aren’t enough to fight an army of them and while she doesn’t mention it the fight would just tire them out for work and accomplish nothing as while it is the McDuck’s land the combination of the hound and the lack of money to move back means it’s pointless. She also mentions their younger brother Pothole, who went to America. This will be important later. 

Scrooge storms off and Fergus laments, in a scene that’s more painful the more I think about it, how his clan has fallen, with he and his brother lamenting their chances at glory are long gone.. but Fergus has hope his son can do better, and for his son’s birthday makes him a shoeshine kit in the hopes of inspiring him to greatness. This scene still resonates since many of us are poor, struggling and not doing so good money wise. I’m sure many parents have doubts and regrets about not being able to do more for their kid.

 Not only that but the story carefully avoids the trap of Fergus accidently being abusive by you know, pinning his family’s future on one 10 year old. While yes he is asking a lot of Scrooge, to restore their family name.. it’s very clear he mostly just wants his son to do better than him. Even if Scrooge was just slightly more successful, Fergus would likely be happy with that. He’s not using the legacy as a “This what you must be” like say the Gems in steven universe did for Steven with Rose’s Legacy, the kind where it sort of suffocates you till youc an make it your own. He’s just saying “this is what you can be” He believes his child can be great and simply once him to reach his full potetial and is simply giving him a means to hopefully do so, a simple home made shoe shine kit. While Jake scoffs, the narration notes the idea isn’t worth a dime.. it’s worth THE dime. The dime that would set Scrooge’s destiny in motion. 

The next morning, Fergus goes to check up on his son and his new buisness but Scroogey’s having no luck and about ready to just quit, the poor child. Also Matilda is dragging her baby sister around like a doll and it’s entirely precious as it is funny. 

But as for those Dorty Boots, Matilda wonders why her dad dosen’t just tell Scrooge that Burt the Ditch Digger is coming. Fergus tells her to quite and then explains his plan: he’s sending Burt to scrooge, with an American dime Fergus and Matilda found, to teach his son a lesson: By giving him a hard days work, he’ll teach him what hard work truly means.. and by having Burt “cheat” him with the American dime, it’ll give him the motivation to keep going and to nto be as wide eyed and trusting. It’s a well meaning if harsh lesson, and the kind you’d expect from 1900′s parenting and fits the origin well: Scrooge still earned his first money square, as he still did work.. but his getting cheated being a lesson dosen’t diminish what it taught scrooge, and helps flesh out what I talked about above, Fergus knowing his son has great potential he just needs inspiration to reach it. And instead of just telling him that he does a con job but it’s the 1900′s. This orign, and Fergus’ part in it would be entirely untouched in Ducktales 2017, the first scrooge based adaptation since this comic came out, and I bless them for it. Frank even said this comic was used as a bible by the writers and while theirs clear deviations, and we’ll get to that, they were mainly done for good reason, and it’s very clear that while scrooge’s history is very VERY diffrent in the reboot, the core of his past is still there. 

So the plan is on and young scrooge spends half an hour killing himself to get Burt’s shoes clean before getting his dime.. and realizing he’s been had, makes this proud decleration that will be the bedrock of his entire life and character. 

Scrooge being naturally stubborn as you can see takes his cheats a leson: There will always be hard honest work, and he will be there to do it and he’ll be tougher and sharper than anyone trying to cheat him out of his pay. Fergus’ plan has the intended effect, and Scrooge having learned a hard lesson now has the drive and determination we know him for. As for why it gives it to him.. I had to think on it a bit but it makes sense: For some a setback like this would make them quit.. for Scrooge it’s just proof he CAN find customers, he CAN do this job, or any at his hardest and instead takes this as a lesson to be prepared ot out think and outfight anyone who dares cheat him again, and to not earn his money by being the kind of guy who cheats a kid out of an honest days pay, but as a good honest duck like his father and his father before him. =He will make his money square so he can be the kind of person this seeming stranger SHOULD have been. Granted we’ll see Scrooge doesn’t end up as the best person at times but .. we’ll get there.  So with the fire inside turned from a spark into the flame Scrooge soon got to work, and by the next panel we see he’s eventually worked his stand up from a small box given to him by his dad, to a three seater shoeshining bench, who he wipes all at once by stretching one of his mother’s girldes over a light pole, a detail I didn’t get the first time around but now love. Naturally being a good kind boy much like his Nephews, Scrooge always gave his proud father a portion of his earnings, if with a full receipt for tax purposes. Because he’s still scrooge after all. His dad wonders he did too good a job while Hortense glxbit’s in agreement. 

As the years go on, a now tween Scrooge is eventually able to save up for a horse cart, and starts selling Fire Wood up in the city. He eventually realizes Peat, an earthy subtance found in bogs I only know about because I had to look it up for this review, is more profitable and with some snappy marketing moves into selling Peat for the rich instead, also showing the young lad already has a grasp of how to sell to obnoxious rich people. 

But while his business is booming, our young hero can’t resist visiting his family’s ancestral home and longing for it, hoping one day to have it for himself and in a nice show of how despite his temper and tenacity forged over the last few years he’s still at hear the kind, sweet optimistic lad he was just a few pages ago, he decides to tidy up the Clan’s Cemetary while he’s here. 

Unfortunately as proof that Donald and Della’s terrible luck comes from both sides of the family the Whiskervilles are sub-glomgold levels of human beings.. or Dogfaces in this case, and are digging up the McDuck Clan’s graves to hunt for treasure. Scrooge tries to simply do the smart thing and flee, but the asshole brigade catch sight of him and mistkaing him for a peat burgalar chase after him.. and spend WAY too much time and energy chasing a teenage boy over some fucking bog grass you clearly aren’t selling yourselves. I mean spare a thought for how dumb this is: They could easily sell of of that peat to put up a fence or chop down some trees to get the material if their really that concerned about someone getting in the bog. Then again this isn the 1800 and 1900′s where the child death toll was simply “Yes”, so they likely thought whose gonna notice one more dead child on our property?

Scrooge heads toward the castle and is gestured in by a friendly mystery duck who gladly shows him around and can tell he’s a McDuck just by look, showing the castle is still in glorious condition as the whiskervilles are too spooked to go in, hence why they didn’t chase Scrooge inside. I’d say being afraid of ghosts but not murdering a child is weird but these are the same guys who thought murdering a child was plan A. We’re not dealing with a brain trust is what i’m saying.  So the mystery duck shows Scroogey around, showing off some colorful stories about his ancestors recycled from that scrapped prologue I mentioned. THe mystery man, who brushes off Scrooge thinking he’s a McDuck asks Scrooge what he’s doing to restore the family glory and while Scrooge points out he’s already working on it, Mystery Duck points out he’s still missing something: He has the drive and the dream, but peat and shoeshining, while getting him good money for his family, aren’t the thing you can build a fortune or a future off of. He then points out where Scrooge’s dime comes from: America.. and that gives the boy the idea to head to the states. As for what he could possibly DO there to start, the mystery guy mentions his uncle pothole. So Scrooge has the dream, the drive.. and now a plan: Go to america, work for his uncle on the riverboats, and work his way up from there till he finds his fortune and restores his family name.  But while his future is settled, the present is still an issue and Scrooge wants to teach the child murder club a lesson and thus borrows, though MM wisely points out it’s all his property a horse and some armor, and stuffs the armor with peat. As for what his plan is.. welllll

That.. is fucking awesome. And far from the last fucking awesome moment in this thing. It also shows off even as not quite a teen yet, Scrooge is still a badass already, and while he doesn’t have his trademark strength or fighting skills quite yet, his ingenuity is already there.. and that will always trump both. The Whiskervilles run away and into some quicksand and Scrooge vows to return one day as laird and reclaim his family land. But that’s a story for a few chapters down the line. As for who the mystery duck is, he’s naturally Sir Quackely himself, or rather his ghost, who was simply guiding Scrooge and didn’t give him the treasure as simply handing him the money wouldnn’t restore their family’s good name or continue their bloodline now would it? 

For now Scrooge returns to work for a bit before finding his way to America: A cattleboat to New Orleans looking for a Cabin Boy. And so Scrooge bids farewell to his family. His Dad, feeling bad he can’t even give his boy shilling, gives him the family pocketwatch with jake pitching in with the family gold dentures. While Scrooge naturally refuses to sell the watch, he does plan to sell the teeth as soon as possible for good reason. We then get some sweet goodbyes with him, his sisters (With hortense uttering her first words to everyone’s astonishment) and loving mother as he wonders just what awaits him in America. 

And there he stands on the bow of a ship, heading for a new land, in New Orleans he can be a new man. And we’ll see just what kind of man he becomes as this series continues. For now this is the end of a chapter but the beginning of a lifetime. 

Final Thoughts on Last of the Clan McDuck:

This story is excellent. While there are even better chapters to come, this one is still one of the most memorable and most joyous, showing just how Scrooge became what he is, where some of his values come from, others will be instilled along the way , and beginning to flesh out his family. We see Scrooge’s love of wealth comes from starting from the bottom, growing up with a family that barely had anything and badly needed everything, but was loving and instilled fine morals in him. We also see a Scrooge far removed from the bitter old man he is in present day, an optimistic naïve young lad who only wants best for his family. It’s a nice stark contrast to who he’ll become, good and bad, and a nice way to both compare him to Huey Dewey and Louie and break your heart as his own hardens before briefly turning black later on.  The art, as is standard for this series and Rosa, is breathtaking, and the story isn’t lacking in good jokes, their just downplayed so the story itself can take center stage. There’s nothing really more to say: it’s an excellent start to an even more excellent tale and stands proud among an already stellar story as one of it’s finest outings. 

NEXT RAINBOW: Scrooge goes down to the mighty Missipi to work on the riverboats and meets one of his signature Rogue’s for the first time in their first form, as well as Gyro’s dad.. or grandpa.. or possibly both I don’t know his family tree. Point is, tune in next time for some riverboat hyjinks.  Until then if you’d like to comission an episode of any animated show, especially ducktales and the various other duck related disney shows, or another Duck Comics story you really like from Rosa, Barks or whoever you want really, I take commissions for 5 dollars a review, with 5 dollars off your full order when you put in for more than one episode or issue. You can also follow me on patreon.com/popculturebuffet and for just two bucks a month get access to polls (which i’ll start once we have at least three patreons), and my exclusive discord server. And if you liked this review be sure to reblog it to show off. My self promotion done until next time: There’s always another rainbow. 

[magicflowershop]

❁ every 12.30 pm

➳ timeskip!sugawara x reader oneshot

➵ fluff, heart-warming, cute kids

✿ you found a cute teacher in your niece’s school, so maybe picking up a kid from school everyday isn’t such a bad idea.

❀ // hi! i’ve been gone for so long and finally i finished this after weeks of letting it rot in my drafts,, i don’t wanna delete this bc it feels like i’ll foresaken my angel Suga so here i hope you all enjoy my first oneshot :>

word count // 3,257

of all days, you picked this day as the day to slack off.

there was no reason to doll up, you reasoned. this was your rest day. no plans were made and no places you needed to go, so you went and picked up your sister’s kid wearing your house clothes.

no biggie. a few blocks distance wouldn’t hurt your sense of insecurity. a kindergartener’s teacher also wouldn’t possibly judge how you look when you’re only out to pick a kid up from school.

today, however, was different.

everything became instinct. your fingers went up the center of your jacket, to zip it up entirely. your hands then reached down to your sweatpants, checking if you were wearing it the right way. to your hair, if there are hair strands that are where they’re supposed to be. everything became instinct so you don’t look so much like a mess

in front of this fine preschool teacher.

“i’m Futaba’s guardian.”

your throat let out the softest, shyest voice you could ever project. you found yourself shamelessly, and instinctively, acting cute in front of this fine preschool teacher. 

how else were you supposed to react? his beautiful gray hair enticed you, with a fringe softly parted on the center of his forehead. his porcelain skin that put Snow White to shame, his round, brown eyes that reflected every star in the galaxy, and his smile that could win a boxing match against the sun. not to mention, the mole under his left eye definitely hit the mark.

“good afternoon, Futaba’s guardian-san.”

hearing his voice for the first time, you’re decided. it was a crush.

perhaps it was superficial of you. you claim to fall for a guy you don’t know only for the fact you found him cute. you thought looking at him, admiring him like this was enough however when his angelic smile brightened at the sight of the children waving bye-bye to him and him waving bye-bye back. when he went down on one knee in front of your sister’s daughter, politely asking her she has to stop playing with her classmates because you have come to bring her home. when Futaba spread her arms and wrapped them around his neck, telling him a lispy see you tomorrow.

how dare you face someone like him looking like this.

on the way home, you were dead-set on asking your sister to let you bring your niece home every schoolday. seeing him once was not enough. something about him gravitated you to wanting to see more of him.

you remember the name written on his nametag when you caught the last glimpse of him. 

“Sugawara”

his name reminded you of grass fields, as it is what it meant. it was perfect for him. the aura he emitted was rather calming. people must like having him around for he’s a breath of fresh air. he really was a perfect kindergarten teacher.

“how was school, Futaba?”

your niece skipped as she walked, visibly excited to talk about her day. “it was really fun! my classmates and i had a tea party earlier! Futaba almost spilled the cup because it was too hot.”

“what about your teachers?” you wanted to smack yourself for squeezing information about a guy from your 5-year-old niece. it is a desperate move however, which else choice do you have?

“ah! Sugawara-sensei read us a beanstalk story before nappy time.” Futaba put a finger on her chin as if to think about what else happened. she had no idea how hooked she got you to listen to her story. “then, then Sugawara-sensei helped Futaba with her clay family!”

you then considered yourself lucky.

“do you like Sugawara-sensei?”

and pushed the topic about the man further, seeing the sparkles in your niece’s eyes and how she skipped even happier. “yes! yes! Futaba’s favorite teacher is Sugawara-sensei,” she declared and continued shyly. “he helped Futaba talk to her crush Kaito-kun.”

when you said you were dead-set, you are dead-set for real. what’s there to lose? kids love him, including your own niece. he’s beautiful. he has a gentle voice. he probably smells like daisies. you just have to befriend him and get to know about him some more before introducing him to your parents-

as a friend. 

right?

“for what? did you find a cute guy there or something?”

it sucked your sister knew you too well.

that day, you invited yourself in your sister’s room the second she got home from work. the sly yet desperate move visibly annoyed the older so much that she knew you had something up your sleeve to even dare show up in her room.

“no. just that, it’s a good way to take breaks from the café. plus, i get to hang out with Futaba.” you explained as simply as you could, even though your sister literally can see right through your lies.

she hummed and replied with, “you never get out of the house unless it’s absolutely necessary. when i asked you to take Futaba home from school yesterday, you hated it because your break time from café is ruined. please. find someone else to fool, y/n.”

you soon admit that you truly are dumb. that, however, did not stop you from redeeming yourself to your sister; that being telling the truth and not exactly redeeming anything. you told her the man you set your eyes on in Futaba’s school. you jokingly told her it was love at first sight even though you never believed of something as ridiculous as such.

besides, your sister has no room to reject. you aimed at two birds with one stone. not only do you get to see more of the guy, but you will do your sister a favor of taking care of her daughter for free.

she sighed, finding no way to deny this. “i hate to say it but your timing is too good. i was thinking of finding a babysitter for Futaba since both of us are busy. but if you insist, who am i to decline?”

so this side job began the following day. 

thirty minutes spared during your break before you engage yourself to war. you decided to spend those thirty minutes to rearrange yourself. you would rather not switch into your house clothes like you did yesterday, would you? this time, you chose carefully. you didn’t want to look like a floor rag but you didn’t want to look like you went there to go on a date either. even to contemplate whether or not you must add a little more blush on your cheeks to look lively.

you changed into a casual fit. a plain shirt, denim shorts and a pair of slip-on sandals. it was an attempt to not look like you were trying too hard. not with those clean ponytail and tinted lips.

“good afternoon, i’m Futaba’s guardian.” you told yourself a good job that you remembered to greet today.

but Sugawara wasn’t the one you directed that to. 

he wasn’t around. you sneaked glances left and right to see if he was playing together with the other kids, but alas.

you walked home with Futaba, holding her hand. you try to match the child’s mood as she was very elated to talk about her day. on the other hand, you; Sugawara could have been busy. you can still see him again the following day.

the following days, you lessened your get up from your first attempt. he was present, but the greetings were the same as first day you met.

what the hell are you supposed to do now? do you start conversations? well, of course, you told yourself, since you’re the one who wants something from him. but how? what should you talk about? your day? his day? the kids? his job? what?

“thank you for taking care of Futaba.”

“hm? it is my job though.”

there goes your little motivation to initiate conversations with people you’re interested in. 

you hear him chuckle at you, which added to the embarrassment you had from your statement alone. 

today was parents’ day. the kids were asked to bring their parents to school to have a little meeting with the rest of the class. it worried you that Futaba only had you as her guardian to go with her, not her mother, but you see the kid in her high spirits since this morning you didn’t want to ruin that for her and apologize on her mother’s behalf.

you think this as you lean against the wall at the corner, until you notice Sugawara stood beside you. so much so, you spoke absent-mindedly.

you should have kept your mouth shut.

“is Futaba’s mother doing okay? we haven’t seen her since a week ago.”

or maybe you don’t have to keep your mouth shut after all. you turned to him, stunned. like, goodness, he’s starting a topic with you himself. how can you not be stunned.

“o sorry. is it a sensitive topic? i’m sorry-”

“no!” you said audibly. too audibly. you clamped your mouth, worried if you took the children’s attention away from the kids who are presenting in front. you continued in a whisper, while he still chuckled at you, “Futaba’s mom recently switched work schedules that clashes together with the kid’s school. she wasn’t allowed to take a leave today, so i’m here in her place.”

geez, were you talking too much?

“i see.”

you probably were talking too much.

“you two are siblings, no?”

“uh, yeah. we are.”

he nodded to himself, turning to the kids presenting again. a silent heave of relief escaped you while you leaned comfortably against the wall again. guess that was enough interaction for the day.

“i guess, we’ll keep seeing Futaba’s guardian-san from now on.” he gave you a gentle smile, leaning a bit closer to you from the half-feet distance.

“you don’t have to keep calling me that.”

“my apologies. what should i call you?”

“y/n.”

“y/n-san then.”

he gave you one last boyish smile before walking off to his station.

hold up.

did he just come here to ask for your name? did he trick you into telling him your name?

you and Futaba went home happily. literally, the both of you had a great day in school. here, you were giggling like a kid who just got noticed by her crush. but you could be wrong. it’s only natural of a teacher to learn one of his student’s  guardian’s name. he cannot be interested in you. 

on the other hand, he did start a conversation with you.

don’t get ahead of yourself, you thought. you cannot help but still think about it.

the traffic lights flashed a green color.

days went on. you stayed as the one bringing your niece home safely every afternoon while the mother is busy. the relationship and trust you built with the child strengthened. your heart swell each time you see her jumping in joy whenever you show up after school. when you thought that alone will bring you happiness everyday, Sugawara greets you everyday with the same boyish smile.

each day pass, soon you become close friends. this made Futaba happy as you two are two of her favorite people.

until one day, the teacher called saying Futaba got sick.

worry engulfed you. you wondered what could’ve happened for the child to get sick, when she was fine earlier before her and her mother left together. could your sister not have noticed? or did it happen during school? more and more questions took shape as you frantically closed the café and ran to the school.

you rushed inside the nurse’s office, panting profusely. your eyes first caught your niece lying on the bed unconscious, and Sugawara sitting by the bed, placing a damp towel on her forehead.

“good morning, I’m Futaba’s guardian.”

Futaba’s teacher explained the situation to you. the kids were outside playing in the playground when Sugawara saw Futaba drenched in one hidden part of the garden. you see another kid standing beside the teacher. the kid gripped the hem of his shirt tightly as if he wanted to rip it off. the scowl on his face says enough of why he was here.

“i didn’t do it.”

the teacher continued, “ever since parent’s day, apparently some students have been picking on Futaba for not having her mother around.

“i’m terribly sorry. i’ve helped Futaba in ways i can. even i wanted to call you for this, but when i told Futaba i will, she begged me not to tell you because you and her mother are both busy with work.” she nudged the kid beside her, “isn’t there something you need to tell Futaba’s guardian?”

the kid averted his eyes. you figured there was no reason squeezing an apology from stubborn children like him. you kneeled before the kid to be at the same level as his eyes.

“what’s your name?”

he spent a few seconds quivering his lips before speaking, “Sora.”

“Sora,” you held his shoulder gently, looking into his eyes. “you’re very lucky to always have your mother by your side.”

tears formed in his innocent eyes.

you went on. “always remember to tell your mom that you love her, long as you still have her around, so she will stay. okay?” you finished, smiling at him as bright as you could.

Sora erupted into tears, storming off out of the nurse’s office and yelling his apology.

kids.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to make him cry.” you reasoned, when you know full well you did it on purpose to put that kid into a guilt trip for messing with your niece like this. the teacher said it was fine, that she could’ve done it the same thing but a different way.

ignoring that, you turned to Sugawara, who you forgot was there the whole time, “i’m sorry for the trouble. i’ll be taking her home now.”

“i can help you bring her home.” 

Sugawara stood up from his seat. this startles you because you also forgot you had a crush on him. you try to decline his offer, reasoning that your house is nearby and that you can carry a kid no problem.

but the Futaba’s teacher helped insist, “Sugawara-sensei should help you look after Futaba… uh, y/n-san was it?” you nodded, dubiously. “it was also said by Futaba that you’re working alone in your house with no one to help you. so please.”

you couldn’t decline when you saw Sugawara already carrying the kid behind his back. so you went home together with him, big deal. you felt embarrassed after getting your background get found out like that. guess Futaba is too honest of a kid, but not honest enough to tell her family that she was bullied at school.

“here will do.”

the two of you finally stood in front of your father’s café. the walk was silent, but you believed it was enough interaction for the day once more.

“you weren’t kidding when you say it was nearby, huh?” he said, looking through the glass windows.

“well. yeah.”

“that’s too bad,” he says, still carrying the kid on his back. he looks back to you. the smile appears again, “aren’t you going to open the door?”

you unlocked the doors. then, it hit you. what did he mean by too bad?

after taking Futaba up to her room and tucking her in bed, you went back down to the café where you found Sugawara idling about. “you can rest yourself on one of the booths. let me brew a drink for you.” you took your apron and hurried behind the counter. meanwhile, the man stood up perhaps wanting to leave. 

“oh, you don’t have to make me a drink. i should be leaving.”

this confused you. really, what was that too bad for?

“you went all the way to our café. it’s only natural i made a drink for you.” you try and justify yourself. also, you already pressed the espresso machine. there’s no reason to waste a cup of espresso.

“if so, must i stay?”

this was the second to the last straw.

you stood there, one hand holding the ice scooper and the other holding a grande-sized cup, while staring at him straight into his bright eyes. those orbs must be telling you something. there should be a secret hiding within those eyes. for example, an answer to his question. 

“do you want to stay?” you first broke the gaze.

“i’m the one asking you, y/n,” he said with a chuckle. 

once again, you hesitated. “sure.”

the café flooded with silence while you made an iced latte for him. you trailed your gaze to the top of his head as he sat on one of the booths. concerns arise from the pit of your mind. nothing seemed to be happening. then, what is he here for? if he stayed, what will happen? is this all on purpose? should you put your guards up? 

are the green lights alit again?

you put the iced latte on his table when he spoke. “i’m quite worried about Futaba with what happened to her.”

“well, she did a good job hiding the truth from us.” you say as you sat across him. “she’s a strong kid. i’m more worried if she will continue hiding her pain from the people who care about her.”

maybe you shouldn’t start such a touchy subject like this, yea? Sugawara landed his eyes at you but you avoided it and stood up. you have no idea what’s going on. if anything, this is not the right context of when something will develop. both of you just brought home a sick kid, for Pete’s sake. must you really take advantage of this?

“anyway, i’ll tell my sister what happened. she can help Futaba better than i-”

“i wonder if i’ll still see you every afternoon.”

his honesty astounded you. Sugawara’s pale face flushed from shame. guess he didn’t mean to say that. this means, if you weren’t getting ahead of yourself again, it’s how he actually feels.

you tried to lessen his embarrassment, “of course you will, who else will pick Futaba up from school?” so you played dumb.

“if your sister knew about the situation, she might switch her schedule.”

what was he trying to say?

“she can’t do that easily, you know.”

“there will still be a possibility.” he rested his chin on his palm, smiling at you, “which reminds me, i have been looking for a part-time job around here. is your café looking for more workers?”

“you wanna work here?” you ask as you went and flip the sign to open, since you’re already back for work.

“sure,” he picked himself up from the booth and walked towards you. “but i think i should follow someone’s footsteps first and make an impression. you know, you’re going to be my boss. i should meet you with casual clothes, not with a track jacket, sweat pants and unkept hair. what do you think?”

you flipped the sign to close. “are you mocking someone here?”

he tried to not make himself laugh at you. “i’m just saying i shouldn’t half-ass it if i’m looking for another job, y/n.”

“doesn’t sound like you’re actually looking for another job though?” 

“i’m not,” he admitted. “i’m only looking for a reason to see you more. every 12.30 pm isn’t enough.”

the traffic lights said go. it is now 12.31 pm.

[dumb-hat]

Character Sheet - Evander Winsome

—————- Link to blank template!

Rules: Things in brackets are meant only as guidelines, to be erased and your answers written in place of. Things separated by | are for bolding and italicising.

Tagged by: No one! I saw this reblogged by @mooglemeet​, so I went ahead and grabbed it directly from @bluespiritfire​. Link to the blank template is up above! Tagging: No one specific/anyone who wants to. Feel free to tag me back so I can see it!

Name: Evander Winsome Age: 26 Pronouns: He/him Birthdate: 12th Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon

~~PLACE OF ORIGIN~~ Race: Hyur From the First: Interracial heritage:

Hometown/city: Limsa Lominsa Current residence/popular haunt:Ul’dah

~~APPEARANCE~~

Eyes: brown | blue | green | gold | red | purple | multicoloured | other (amber) Hair: brunette | black | blonde | red (ginger or crimson?) | grey/white (aged or natural?) | multicoloured | none | other (…) Hair type: straight | curly | ringlets | wavy | wiry | frizzy | voluminous | thin | other (unruly) Hair style: A shaggy mop deeply in need of a trim, permanent hat hair. (It’s Aymeric hair. I can’t imagine he’ll ever wear the outfit, but the hair was worth it!) Body type: beefy | curvaceous | fat | lean | muscular | petite | skinny | stocky | other (…) Height: short | tall | specific measurement (5′9) Skin: ashen | caucasian | dark | fair | freckled | olive | tanned | other Facial features: birthmark | beard (stubble) | face paint | fur | scales | scars | tattoos | other (…) Body features: birthmark | beard | ears (anything unique about them) | face paint | fur | missing limb/s | scales | scars | tail | tattoos | other (…)

Favourite/commonly used clothes:

~~SKILLS~~ DoL/DoH Botanist | Fisher | Miner | Alchemist | Armorer | Blacksmith | Carpenter | Culinarian | Goldsmith | Leatherworker | Weaver fun | profit | self-sustainability

~~COMBAT~~ Main discipline Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Secondary/Tertiary/Extra Classes Gladiator/Paladin | Marauder/Warrior | Dark Knight | Gunbreaker | Astrologian | Conjurer/White Mage | Arcanist/Scholar/Summoner | Thaumaturge/Black Mage | Blue Mage | Red Mage | Pugilist/Monk | Lancer/Dragoon | Rogue/Ninja | Samurai | Archer/Bard | Machinist | Dancer

Fighting style aggressive | cautious | hard-and-fast | tactical | defensive | protective | all out | wait-and-see | charge in headlong | reckless | self-sacrificing | party-oriented | loner |

Any difficulties with magical/physical disciplines? Nothing in particular

~~PERSONALITY TRAITS~~ abrasive | abusive | accepting | aggressive | analytical | anxious | arrogant | assertive | brave | bossy | calm | caring | cautious | cheerful | chronic liar | confident | controlling | cowardly | creative/inventive | cunning | curious | determined | disinterested | envious | fearless | frosty | frugal | generous | greedy | gullible | honest | humorous | impatient | impulsive | indifferent | insecure | intelligent | irresponsible | jealous | just | kind | loyal | lustful | manipulative | materialistic | meek | modest | money-driven | naïve | narcissistic | oblivious | overbearing | patient | passive | perceptive | possessive | prickly | quiet | relaxed | religious | sarcastic | secretive | self-assured | self-conscious | self-deprecating | selfish | selfless | spiritual | strict | stubborn | tired | thoughtful | unpredictable | virtuous | vocal | wary | wise | other

~~LIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavors: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (…) Favorite Dish: Dzo steak & popotoes (small, seasoned and baked ones are best, but he won’t turn away mashed or fried) Favorite Color: Whites, browns, grays Favorite Sound: Soft, quiet breaths; glasses tinking together, machinery clicking into place Favorite Smell: Juniper, jasmine, iris; citrus and sandalwood, hard liquor Favorite Place: Anywhere he can find a good drink and great company Favorite Holiday: the Moonfire Faire Other: Evander likes free-spirited people, people who know how to relax, people who aren’t afraid to call him out on his shit, but also aren’t too eager to do so

~~DISLIKES~~ Environment: forest | city streets | markets | the beach | open sea/on the water | mountains | jungle | battlefield | being at home | surrounded by books | other (…) Weather: wind | snow | rain | sunshine | storms | cloudy days Flavors: sweet | salty | sour | bitter | spicy | tart | gamey | spiced | fruity | nutty | leafy greens | other Textures: silk | velvet | cotton | metal | leather | water | spongy | dry granules (sand, sugar, etc) | other (sticky) Least Favorite Dish: Emerald soup, lutefisk. In general, he shies away from things that are really bitter or cloyingly sweet. Least Favorite Color: Really, really, really bright greens, yellows and pinks. Think neon.  Least Favorite Sound: Pained screams, metal grinding against metal Least Favorite Smell: Blood, rot, vomit Least Favorite Place: Jail Least Favorite Holiday: Starlight Other: He has a general disdain for nobility, law enforcement and people who take everything too seriously.

~~HOBBIES~~ art (what medium/s?) | adventuring | cooking | fighting/sparring | finance | gardening | golden saucer attractions (Lord of Verminion, chocobo racing, Doman mahjong, triple triad) | hiking | hunting (game or hunt marks) | lacks hobbies | music | physical sports | reading (almost anything he can get his hands on, though he regards romance novels as a kind of quiet, not-quite-guilty pleasure) | running | scrapbooking | sewing/knitting/other needlework | sightseeing | socializing | swimming | training | writing | other (…)

~~RELATIONSHIPS~~ Parents/Legal Guardian/Parental Figure: mother | father | aunt and/or uncle | grandparents | adoptive | foster | mentor | family friend/godparents | other Siblings: One older brother; deceased Children: None that he knows of Romantic: single | unrequited | crushing | dating | engaged | married | divorced/separated | widow/widower | recently split | it’s complicated (I mean, not to him. To him, it makes total sense. Well, most of it does.) | other (…) Friends: Evander tends to befriend and trust people fairly easily, though it can take him a bit to really open up. Once you’ve hit that point, you’ve likely got a friend for life. Rivals/Enemies: To the best of his knowledge, he’s left these all behind somewhere or other, thanks largely to his restless need to wander. That said, there’s surely a few lurking in the past and there’s always room for more, of course!

Any special gestures of affection they have with people in their life? He’ll often make complaining noises about paying for drinks and dinner, but he’ll do it every time and would be slightly hurt if people didn’t let him.

~~HAVE DEALT WITH/IS DEALING WITH~~ abuse (ongoing or recovering, verbal or physical) | acceptance | a new relationship (unlikely friendship, step-sibling/parent, etc) | a new romance | betrayal | broken heart | budgeting | bullying | caution | confidence | crisis of faith | depression | grief | health issues | how to trust | learning from a mistake (as in “doesn’t enough) | loss | love | new people | new place | opening up to someone/others | parenthood | physical changes (loss of a limb or other sense, inability to do things previously able to) | politics | PTSD | poverty | racism | reconciling previously held beliefs | responsibility | sacrifice (self or of another) | self-acceptance | self-esteem | to value myself | to value others | trauma (medical, mental, emotional) | war | wealth | other (…)

How are they dealing with the most prominent of the above? How does it affect their in day-to-day life, if at all? Poorly, typically.

~~ODDS AND ENDS~~ Notable Weapons He doesn’t have any particular bond with any of his weapons, really. He sees them as tools, and ones that he uses only reluctantly. He sometimes enjoys tinkering with the ones he builds, but that’s more of a hobby than anything. 

Notable Mounts He has various vehicles and machines he likes to fuss over and drive around, but he’s particularly fond of his SDS Fenrir.

In addition to his chocobo—a particularly stubborn beast named Doreen—he’s also fond of his battlesheep, Doctor One and a colossal crab he’s dubbed St. Barnabus.

Notable Minion/s Besides Doctor One and St. Barnabas, Evander is especially fond of various clockworks, automata, wind-ups and models that he’s put together. His favorite is a drone modeled after a Magitek bit that he’s named Valencia.

Keepsakes/Mementos

A pendant in the shape of a swan, a few too many flasks

Chronic Illnesses or Disabilities Evander lives with attention deficit hyperactivity disorder. I’ve written about it a few places, most notably at length here and in brief here. How do they deal with these? Depends on the day, really. This isn’t really a thing he has a name for, so it’s not a thing he can easily address. He’s got a sloppily slapped together set coping mechanisms that work about half the time, if he’s lucky. Other than that, he mostly hopes for good days full of things he can convince himself he’s interested in.

Education Level He likes it when people underestimate him, so he’s not always quick to admit to the formal Ishgardian education afforded to him by the family that took him in when he left Limsa Lominsa. He’ll often try to pass it off as eclectic, self-driven studies... Which, admittedly, also played a big part in shaping him. 

Habits There’s a lot of excess in his life. He drinks too much. He eats too much. He stays up too late, too long, and then sleeps too late, too long. He’s almost always got a flask or four on his person, and he often finds that he’s picking up the dinner or drink tab wherever he goes. 

Other Nothing immediately springs to mind, but I’m sure there’s like a dozen things I should put here. This thing has been sitting in my drafts for god-knows-how-long, so I’m just glad to finally get it out there. 

[ff15trashgoldenslumbers]

So because this was just rotting in my drafts and I figured I’d do nothing with it...Here you go...

So five-ever ago, I was to write a story about Noctis’s elder sister, and how she would mess with the story line, but with more fun prompts appearing in my inbox and not really wanting to do a whole story that was basically a 15 chapter monster, and the fact I hardly got beyond the plot line and this ultra dramatic scene. I stopped thinking about. 

Plus when DLC came out and more info was being prepared I just kinda forgot about it, so it’s been rotting in my drafts untouched as it was originally created before I even touched the game myself.

But! Because I’m a lover of the drama,I decided to post it as the rough draft!

So set up to the story:

At age 15 the elder Princess of the Lucian family, had gone to visit Tarabene when Noctis had become injured as a kid. The young Princess grew close to Ravus over the visit, but witness the death of Queen Sylva, before she could rush to tell her Father the truth, a man with red hair stopped her and erased part of her memory.

Regis holding Noctis, and a grip on Lunafreya’s hand rush to get out of the way of the attack that is on them. The young Princess is found stumbling about the field, Regis stops long enough to notice that his daughter is fine, passing her Noctis and taking both her and Lunafreya’s free hand and rushes to safety. Upon hearing Ravus calls for help, Regis stops when both the hands he’s holding stop. Lunafreya rushes to her brother’s side, Regis goes to call out for her, only to find Noctis back within his arms, as his daughter races toward Ravus.

Only for the Princess to be snagged by the back of her dress and pulled into her father’s arms, as he starts moving his children to safety. 

Regis holding both his children leaves the battlefield, trying to ignore his daughter’s harsh cries for him to turn around.

At the age of 18 the Princess starts courting Ravus, and soon the two are wedded. Much Noctis horror that his sister would ever marry Ravus, until her realizes just how in love she is with him. The Princess promises to visit every Spring before she is to be returned to her husband.

Prior to the fall, the group is tasked to take the Princess home, when they leave they notice that the Princess is in tears as she says goodbye to King Regis something she had never done before when having to return home if anything she’s always smiling.

Throughout the trip, she is seen as the elder sister to everyone in the group. Often making certain that the others are fine, and having no troubles stopping arguments. When the news breaks of the Fall of Insomnia, she explained that Noctis is now King and that he will have to take up the arms. The others watch the kind sweet Princess become rather harsh to the red headed stranger they meet.

The Princess in order to help the others get away, gives herself over the Niflheim Army as they wouldn’t hurt Commander Ravus’s wife. 

While waiting in Tarabene for Lunafreya to appear, Ravus visits his wife…

“Ravus? Ravus!” She called rushing toward her husband, holding him tightly. “Ravus you’re here!”

Ravus returned her embrace just as tightly, “Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

He pushed her away only slightly to look her over “Were you hurt? Were you in the city? Did you…”

She stepped back slightly shaking her head, “I was not there during The Fall.” She replied, turning icy blue eyes to her husband. “I was not there in person, but I’ve seen it. I saw everything that happened.”

Ravus glanced away, those of the Lucian line had strange ties to the Gods. He was aware of his wife’s dreams, as they often woke himself out of his sleep when he was able to spend nights beside her, by the woman gasping.

“Ravus,” 

That harsh voice made him looked to her, but Gods how he hated that look of that beautiful face of his wife.

“Ravus, did you know that My Father was going to die?”

No, holding back. No pause! She was furious! Still she had every reason to be so.

Ravus stepped forward his arms held out to the woman, “I did not mean,”

“You did not mean what!” She cried stepping back. “My Father, my Father is dead Ravus.”

Ravus tried another step forward, but she stepped back again, “I was not.”

“Did Ardyn hide this from you? I ran into him, he’s out their chasing the boys, my brothers.” She barked, angry tears spilling from her eyes. “Ravus, I saw it, I saw Daddy get ran through, I saw him die Ravus, he was right there. I couldn’t, I couldn’t save him. Just like I couldn’t save you.” She cried, her tears falling hard, she sniffed knowing that her makeup was running and that she looked nothing like the calm collected woman that always stood by her husband side.

“Please, there was nothing I could,” This time the High Commander was stopped in his tracks, by the strong slap of his wife. The sound echoing through out the room.

“Did you want this? Did you want me to suffer?”

Ravus glanced to the floor, “I should have never let you go.”

“Let me go? Let me go! Ravus I know you hated Daddy, I know you did, and because of what?” She cried, you never brought this up, but it tugged at her for years and the words fell before she could catch them. “You hated Daddy because he left you on the battlefield! At the moment he was not thinking as a King or a Warrior he was thinking as a Father! Daddy rushed Noctis and I off that field, he went to go after Lunafreya too. At the time I was too young and stupid to know that, but seeing Noctis and the others on the field, I understood what he did so much more. That’s why I gave myself over.”

“I…”

She lowered her hand still raised from her strike, “Ravus I want you to replace yourself with my Father that day, I want you to pretend that for that moment it was Lunafreya and myself what would you have done?”

Ravus’s dual eyes widen, “I would protect you.”

She raised her hand, cupping her husband’s cheek that only moment prior she had striked, “I love you more than every star in the sky Ravus, you are my husband, you are my heart. When we are seperated my body and soul ache for you.” She whispered. “I just don’t know if I am in this alone.”

Ravus quickly embraced her, “I love you so much. I do not say it much, and for that I ask your forgiveness.” 

“Ravus you are my Family, and Noctis and the boys, they are my family too. Some of what little I have left. Please help me protect them.”

Ravus pulled her closer, pressing a kiss to her forehead, “I promise.”

After the touching reuion with husband and wife, the Princess finds herself before Ardyn, demanding to know where it is that she has hidden Lunafreya. The only answer that the Princess supplies is that “A King can move only one direction, while a Queen have full rein of the board, Chancellor.”

The Princess ends up going to Alitissa to stay with Lunafreya, knowing that the others will try and make it to the Oracle and will need Noctis to form a bond with the Goddess.

Lunafreya is determined to summon Leviathan, the Princess agrees to escort her. When meeting up with the Goddess, the Princess offers herself in place of her brother and asks to have Noctis and Lunafreya spared. The Goddess explains that the Goddess demand a sacrifice of a Prince.

During the battle, Lunafreya saves Noctis, but is left weak, (unknown to everyone the Princess freezes Lunafreya prior to the battle, casting an island on herself to take the form of the Oracle) Ardyn runs the Princess through believing her to be Lunafreya. After dragging Noctis back to safety, he constantly states that Lunafreya is fine.

When alone with Ravus, who still doesn’t understand what his wife means and where his sister is, he becomes more aggravated until the Princess turns to him, tears in eyes explaining that a Prince was sacrificed to ensure that both Noctis and Luna would survive, before apologizing that she would never be able to have children with Ravus after the one they had lost when Ardyn stabbed her.

Ravus personally escorts them to the train, while his wife keeps messing with his arm. Upon boarding Ravus states he will not, “Allow another one he loves to die, and they are to protect the woman with their lives.” 

Most of the train scene is the same, Noctis and Gladiolus butt heads. Both Noctis and the Princess chase down the fake Prompto. Only for the wound Ardyn inflicted on the Princess back in Altissa to reopen, stopping the woman from warning Noctis that the Prompto he’s attacking is indeed a fake. So watches helplessly as Prompto is pushed off the train.

When Ardyn appears, and Shiva interferes freezing and shattering Ardyn. Shiva opens her arms to the Princess, apologizing fro all the hurt that she has gone through.The Princess explains that years ago, she attempted to trade her life to spare Noctis and the others, the Gods did not want that. Upon her marriage to Ravus she would have a child of both the Oracle and King’s line. 

When Ardyn killed the child in Altissa, the Princess was granted powers similar to that of the Immortal, yet by having Oracle blood run through her, due to her and Ravus child she is immune to the darkness that swallowed Ardyn. Yet with the child gone is is uncertain of Noctis’s fate.

After the Regalia breaks down, the group becomes separated. The Princess rushes to find Ravus, and manages to stop Ardyn from taking over the man. Going after Ardyn herself, she teleports Ravus away to Luna. As a last ditch effort the Princess summons a large amount of power before exploding,seeming to kill herself and Ardyn.

The Chocobros believing her to be dead are in shock, only to be confused when she pulls herself from the rubble, more worried about them than herself as she embrace them tightly quickly falling into a comatose state from the drain of power. Only to be awoken the crystal’s power, jumping from Gladiolus’s arms, she manages to grab Noctis’s arm, before being thrown back by the crystal. The woman crying and begging the crystal to take her instead.

After 10 years have pass, Noctis returns yet the Princess dawns a battle uniform, telling Ravus to remain with a frozen Lunafreya. Explaining should she pass the ice will shatter. She mets her brother fro the first time in 10 years. Protecting the others with her magic. She explains none can kill Ardyn but Noctis.

When Noctis moves to ascend the throne and bring back the sun, Princess takes his spot, calling to the gods, “I am first born of the line, the throne is mine. A prince was given up as you wish, and for I am the rightful rule of this line it is mine, Come to me!”

The gods not truly able to argue as they had taken a Prince of Lucian blood, an Oracle child, and that the Princess was first in line for the throne, she had never given up the prophecy would stand.  So they run her through, through tired eyes, she smiles to the others before falling.

The Queen falls, so that the King may live offsetting the Prophecy as a Queen was never expected.

During the epilogue, as Noctis ascends the throne to a new built Insomnia, he is shocked to see Regis and his sister standing there awaiting him. The Princess steps forward resting her forehead to his with a soft smile of, “Long live the king.”

[thesoftsoobin]

➳ pairing: soobin x reader

➳ genre: proposal au, tooth-rotting fluff, angst if you squint

➳ warnings: soobin is so cute you might cry, also this is my first time writing a member x reader fic

➳ word count: 3.4k

➳ author’s notes: soobin is aged up in this and is in grad school, so about 24. also yes the title is the same as that satiric piece about eating babies, it was fitting for the story but also I thought it was funny hehe. happy valentines day!

Soobin has been distant lately, and you’re almost sure he’s getting ready to breakup with you. But little do you know, he has something much, much better planned.

An all too familiar electric blue Volkswagen Beetle sits outside the doors of your office building, engine still running. It’s parked in the spot where your boyfriend Soobin’s red SUV should be, and his best friend Yeonjun, hair the same color blue as his car, pokes his head out of the driver’s side window.

“Hey!” he waves to you with a wide grin as your eyebrows knit together. Slowly, you near his car and the band and skate shop stickers on his bumper come into focus. “What took you so long? I thought you were done at 5.”

“Sorry, I was…finishing something up…” you say, and you take a few more steps to the passenger’s side and open the door to slide in. “Is Soobin okay?”

It’s his turn to be confused now as he shifts the car into drive. “Yeah, he’s fine. Didn’t he text you? He asked me to come get you.”

While he waits at the light to pull out of the parking lot, you scramble for your bag and take out your phone. Surely enough, you have two missed texts from your boyfriend.

You frown at the words, a frustration you’re not proud of building up inside your chest. Your car broke down yesterday and is in the shop, and Soobin had promised to drive you to and from work. He’d dropped you off this morning and you texted him on your lunch, just to remind him he had to pick you up too. But apparently something much more pressing came up only 15 minutes before he was set to be there.

To be fair, this wasn’t such a big deal. You could have even walked home if you needed to. The apartment you share with Soobin and Yeonjun isn’t far from your work at all.

But it’s still winter. The sidewalks are slicked with ice, the wind chill is below freezing, and today is one of many days you’d forgotten your gloves when rushing out the door in the morning. So it was nice of him, at least, to ask Yeonjun to come.

Normally, you wouldn't be upset with him at all, for that very reason. But for the past few weeks, Soobin has been acting weird, on edge and distracted. He's been half-heartedly listening to you, always seemingly somewhere else when you'd talk, and he’s started stress-filled arguments whenever you'd ask him a simple question like what he wanted from the store.

Just this morning, you’d asked what his plans for the day were. When he simply shrugged, you pressed a bit more, sure he had something planned for his first day off in a while.

“Nothing?” You’d asked teasingly, leaning against the counter as you chewed your granola bar. “Isn’t Jun off too? You guys normally have entire, intricate plans when you get to hang out by yourselves.”

“I don’t know, babe,” he’d tensed up in response. He’d squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Just...leave it, okay?”

With all of that adding up, of course you were frustrated. It felt like he was pulling away, and any time you brought it up, he would just laugh and brush it off with a simple "I'm fine."

"What's wrong?" Yeonjun asks. You hadn’t noticed your eyes were still on your phone, mouth still set in a frown.

"Be honest," you turn to him suddenly, "is Soobin going to break up with me?"

He glances from the road to you and then back to the road again, barely meeting your eye before bursting out in laughter.

"What?" you whine. "He's been acting so weird. And what's so important that he couldn't wait five minutes to pick me up first? On his day off?"

He's still stifling a laugh. "You're hilarious, Y/N. You know that?"

"I'm serious! He would've told you, right? If he was going to break up with me? Just be honest so I can prepare for it."

"He's not breaking up with you," he says, letting out another giggle, and that stills your nerves. Your shoulders fall and you sit back against the seat. "He loves you. Like, too much. It's disgusting."

You try not to smile to yourself, already feeling ridiculous for thinking he would be ending things. Choi Soobin, the man who still wakes you up with coffee and a kiss every morning and who, just yesterday, brought flowers home from the store. He saw them, yellow and pink, your two favorite colors, and thought of you.

But that brings you back to everything else about him lately. Distracted, irritable, and closed off. Of course, you had every reason to be confused. You still do.

"So why is he acting so weird then?" You ask Yeonjun as he pulls into the apartment complex. He sits up to look for a parking spot, still not meeting your eye.

"You'll just have to—" he stops himself and clears his throat. As he rounds a corner, he starts again, voice easy. "It's just his thesis. He's all stressed and everything."

"Right," you say, nodding.

That still doesn't explain why he refuses to tell you about it. He's complained to you throughout this entire process since he started the gigantic paper last year. But…you guess it makes sense. He's nearing the end of it, probably too focused on polishing it to complain.

"Right," you repeat, trying to reassure yourself as Yeonjun pulls into a free space. Trying not to entertain the thoughts that maybe he just hasn't told his best friend, and he really is planning on breaking up with you. "What were you going to say? I'll just have to what?"

"Oh, uh," he turns the key and the ignition sputters to a stop, "I was just going to say you'll have to be patient with him. Really, everything's fine. Seriously."

"Okay…"

With that, Yeonjun gives a curt nod and opens his door. He fumbles with his keys in the apartment entryway, which is a regular occurrence for him, and he lets you both in. You make your way up the carpeted stairs to the second floor and pull out your own keys to get into the apartment, worry still clawing at your heart.

The absolute disaster in the kitchen when you walk in does nothing to quell your fears. Bowls, pots, and pans are scattered around the countertops. There's splotches of flour all over the table cloth, and a pot of water is bubbling over on the stove. The stove hisses every time another drop of water splatters onto the burner.

"Shit," Yeonjun takes two steps at a time into the kitchen and turns the dial to shut it off. "I was supposed to — I think he told me to turn it off."

"Jun, what—" you take another glance around, back over the flour and the stove, and notice the lump of dough sitting in a bread pan beside the pot of water. "Was he stress baking again or something?"

But what would Soobin need to boil water for? Gnocchi?

"Ah, well, he—" Yeonjun scratches the back of his neck, pulling on a tuft of his hair. "You know, I'm not very good at— He shouldn't have—"

Another jingle of keys outside the door interrupts Yeonjun, and before he can make anything of his stammering, Soobin walks in. He looks completely normal, if not a bit disheveled, in his earmuffs and brown suede jacket.

But Yeonjun breathes out an, "Oh, thank god," and you see Soobin's eyes widen just slightly as he shuts the door behind him. He doesn't even take his boots off before stepping over to you, which you know for a fact he's made a habit of doing every winter since he could walk.

"Hi baby," he says just before giving you a small, quick kiss. Normal, fine. But you still look between him and Yeonjun with narrowed eyes. Yeonjun's staring down at his feet now, and Soobin gives a tight smile that turns into the cutest pout he can muster. "I'm sorry I broke my promise about picking you up."

"It's fine, but what exactly came up?" You ask before jutting your thumb toward Yeonjun. "And why's he acting just as weird as you now, too? A-and," you gesture around you at the mess. "And what's with all of this?"

Soobin pulls his earmuffs down and hooks them around his neck. He bites his bottom lip, and you know that his next few words are going to be a lie. You've been together long enough to know that that's his tell.

"It completely slipped my mind that I had a meeting with my advisor scheduled," he says. "He read over my most recent draft of my thesis."

"It took you only a half hour to drive to campus, have the meeting, and drive back?" you ask, and he opens his mouth to respond, but he can't seem to come up with anything to say. "Soob, why are you lying to me?"

"Babe—" he slips his hands into his pockets, taking in a breath.

"Ah, I'm gonna…go play Crazy Taxi," you hear Yeonjun say behind you.

You look back, watching Yeonjun scurry to his room and shut the door behind him. He's clearly aware of what's about to happen and must have lied to you before. Soobin is humming under his breath when you return your gaze to him, trying to come up with something to say.

"Soob, you're my best friend," you say. "If you're not—If this isn't working for you anymore, you can tell me. I'm—"

"What?" His eyebrows shoot up and he takes a step forward, cupping your face in his hands and shaking his head. "No. No, no no. That's not it! Why would you think that?"

"You've been acting so strange, and-and," you gesture back to Yeonjun's door. "And he's acting weird now too, like he knows why you're acting weird and can't say. And if it were good, he'd—"

"Y/N, no," Soobin says, leaning down to kiss you again. This time he lingers, his way of reassuring you and quelling your fears for good. "I'm not breaking up with you," he says, and then he laughs just like Yeonjun had. He’s smiling so wide his dimples show.

You smack his arm playfully, but it only makes him laugh harder. "So why is everything so different, then? And why did you lie about picking me up?"

He holds up his hands, giving up. "I know I've been off lately and starting dumb fights because...I’ve been so caught up with my paper," he says.

"Yeah," you say, urging him to continue.

"So I wanted to make it up to you by making a nice dinner," he stammers out, the apparent stress of this evening filling his voice as he goes on. "I wanted to get it done before I picked you up, but you and I both know I'm only good at baking. And I couldn't find the right pot for the rice and then I thought we were out of kochujang, so I went to the store, but then I remembered it was in the one cabinet I didn't look in."

"Soobin," you frown. "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to."

Now — Now you can wonder how you ever thought this man was going to break up with you. You look up at him, smiling at him and to yourself.

"Well, I can help you now," you say, and you pivot and start toward the kitchen. He grabs you by the waist before you can make it very far, though, spinning you back around.

"No, no, no," he says urgently again. He's still acting kind of weird, but now you chalk it up to his surprise being ruined. "I still want to do it myself."

"Babe, no offense, but it'll take all night if you try to do it yourself," you say, turning around again. He keeps his arms around your waist, following you closely and nearly tripping on your heel as you step onto the kitchen tile.

"Y/N," he whines, wrapping his arms tighter. He rests his chin on top of your head. "Let me do this for you."

You turn around in his arms and stare up at him, and he gives you a peck on the cheek. "Can I at least help do the dishes or something?" you ask.

"No," he says. "You had a long day at work, so go relax and play Crazy Taxi with Jun."

"No," you repeat back to him, and he recoils a bit, his eyebrows coming together. "This is stressing you out more, isn't it?"

"Not at all," he insists unconvincingly, shaking his head again so his bangs swish over his forehead. As you cross your arms over your chest, he keeps trying. "Just call me Chef Choi. I'm gonna make you the best kimchi jjigae and rice and bread you've ever had in your life."

This time you stand up on your tip toes and cup his face in your hands. "Whatever you say," you tell him, and he smiles, tilting his head in your hand. "Now where's the onion and mushroom? I'll cut it up for you."

"Babbbbyyyyy," he draws the word out, but you don't stop yourself from getting the cutting board from the cabinet.

"Come on," you say and you set the board down on the countertop. "This will be more fun, anyway. I'm not letting you stress yourself out on my account."

You expect him to keep pouting, the stubborn boy that he is, but instead his face begins to soften. He stares at you with these puppy dog eyes, so wide and affectionate that you have to do a double take. You haven't seen him look at you like this since the first time he told you he loved you.

“What?” you ask, when instead of saying anything, he takes your hands in his.

“I love you so much,” he says.

“And I love…” you start to say, but he’s sinking down. Down to one knee. “...you. Soobin.”

“I think I’ve always--Do you--” he sighs, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “I had this whole speech planned in my head, but I’m looking at you now and I can’t remember the order of it or even a single word. But this isn’t exactly going as planned anyway.”

“Soob, are you--” you take one hand from his to cover your face, which is quickly heating up. Your cheeks hurt from smiling and blushing and his loving gaze is so intoxicating that you can’t help but try and hide.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” he asks, and there he goes, pulling a ring box from the pocket of the suede jacket he’s still wearing, with his winter boots still on and his earmuffs still around his neck. He’s blushing wildly too, and you notice his hands shaking as he opens the box to reveal the sapphire ring you’d mentioned wanting many times to your best friend.

You take in the entire sight, mouth agape, until you realize you haven’t responded yet and Soobin’s still looking up at you nervously.

“Yes!” you say, and it comes out a lot louder than you meant it to. “Yes, obviously.”

"Wait, really?" Soobin asks, his features still soft. He loses his balance and nearly falls to his side, catching himself with his free hand. You nod, and you hold your hand out for him to put the glimmering ring on.

He almost drops it in the process, looking up at you with eyes filled with tears instead of at what he's doing. But then he springs up, somehow not falling over again, and smiles beneath your lips as he kisses you.

"Did you really think I'd say no?" you ask when the two of you pull away, your noses still only centimeters apart.

"Well," he tilts his head to the side and sinks into himself. "I planned all of this and then started to wonder if you even still liked me."

"Soob!" you smack his arm again — with your left hand, which now has the ring you still think you may be imagining. "That's why you've been acting so weird?"

"Yeah, and I wanted it to be perfect. But now I've just ruined all of it, which is also why I'm surprised you said yes," he chuckles. "I was going to make this whole meal and bake the bread and then put the ring in the bread, but then I was so stressed about the meal that I forgot to pick up the ring from the jewelers. So I had to make Jun get you from work so that I could pick up the ring, but then you guys were here when I got back and I couldn't do what I planned since you're such a wonderful girlfriend who wanted to help me because you thought I was stressed over my thesis, which I haven't thought about for the past month because I've been planning this."

You stare at him for a moment, at the way he sighs and his shoulders sag, and you take his face in your hands again.

"That is so you that this couldn't be any more perfect," you say, and one of the tears that had been building behind his eyes slips down his cheek. "Also this way, neither of us accidentally ate the ring."

He lets out a distressed laugh and falls into you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. "That's true. It was really expensive."

"You better not have spent your savings on it," you say, voice muffled with your face in his chest.

"Actually, your dad paid for half of it."

You pull back and look at him with furrowed brows. "My dad?"

"Yeah, I talked to him about all of this. And your mom. Your brother gave me a hard time but I like to believe he was joking," he says. "And Kai, who you probably guessed helped me with the ring. Yeonjun was the first person I told, of course, and he did a good job at distracting you while I did all of that."

"Oh," you say, and you try to think back to the past month and all of the times Yeonjun had invited you to hang out with him. You had thought it was just his way of keeping you company while Soobin allegedly stressed about school. "Yeonjun is still a terrible liar, though."

"Yeah," Sooblin laughs. "He is."

Just then, Yeonjun's door squeaks open and he comes out. He's changed into his pajamas and is in the middle of tossing a handful of chips into his mouth. As he's chewing, he says, "I heard my name. Is the food done?"

But as he swallows, his gaze locks in on the two of you, still tangled in each other. You watch as his eyes search between your flushed face and Soobin's tear-stained cheeks.

"Wait," he says. "Did I miss it?"

Soobin gives him a shy smile.

"I missed it!" he pouts. "Soobin, I was supposed to film it. And, you know, see it."

"You can film the wedding," you say, just as Soobin says to Yeonjun, "Do you want me to do it over? 'Cuz it was kind of sloppy and I forgot my whole speech."

"Ah, I missed that? And the look on her face?" Yeonjun just keeps pouting, padding closer to you two. "Bin, she really thought you were going to break up with her. I was seconds away from giving up your secret." As he steps into the kitchen, he peers over the two of you to get a look at the stove. "You didn't even start the jjigae? Wow, man, you really did drop the ball."

Soobin grins down at his feet, shaking his head. When he looks back up at you, you mouth, "I love you."

"I love you," he mouths back, his smile spreading to show his dimples again, and that's really all you needed.

The night may not have gone according to Soobin's plans, but it was perfect. So utterly perfect.

[kieraswriting]

Human/Fairy Relations 3

1  2  3  4

Continued from a story based on a prompt from @arc852

The craziest week of his life was now behind him, but that didn’t mean that anything was settling down for Thomas. He hadn’t seen any fairies since, but they clearly had it out for him, and the town was beginning to notice. At first it was things that could be explained away, like rot in the windowsills, and weeds constantly filling his small yard. The fire always smoked and drafts kept finding their way into the house, which was increasingly hard to bear as winter began to set in.

But then came the ivy. Several sprigs sprouting up overnight was strange, especially since ivy didn’t grow near the town, but completely unexplainable was how they managed to completely cover the house and the one tree in the yard in only a fortnight.

Patton loved it, and set out a chair and a small table under the tree, hoping they would be covered too, but of course since he had expressed the desire out loud it didn’t happen. Still, he often would make a pot of tea or hot chocolate and sit out there until he had drunk the whole thing, leaving behind several sugar cubes as a gift. 

The people of the town were wary of both Thomas and Patton, especially with their house clearly under attack, but no one could resist Patton if he once began a conversation with them. But that led to rumors as well, people saying that Patton himself had magic and was bewitching them. Thomas tried to keep the rumors away from Patton, but he couldn’t stop them, and occasionally Patton would come home with a downright sad look on his face. Thomas didn’t know what to do when that happened. He tried to be a listening ear, but Patton didn’t want to talk about it, and would pretend as if nothing happened.

As time passed, the people in the town grew more and more distrustful of Thomas and Patton. Thomas had had three smaller jobs before the week, but now no one would hire him for anything. He had beehives in his backyard, but when he harvested the honey no one would buy from him. He had frequently gone gathering herbs for the doctor or one of the midwives in the town, but no one would accept him for that either. And Patton was no better, if anything, it was worse for him. Thomas had heard people saying that they could smell the fairy coming from him, and didn’t dare have anything to do with him.

So now it was the last few weeks of fall, and their money was almost gone, and both of them were more lonely than they had been in a long time. 

“I miss Logan,” Patton said.

“Patton, he hurt you,” Thomas said.

“I know. But I still miss him sometimes. Don’t you ever miss Virgil?”

“I only knew him for a week.” Thomas fell silent for a minute as he sipped his tea. “But I do kinda think sometimes that it would be cool to see him again.”

There was silence for a while longer. The fire crackled, and then smoke blew into the house, and they rushed to open the windows, put coats on, and sit outside. 

“I had an idea,” Patton said slowly.

“Oh?”

“Well, we have a lot of honey…”

“Mhmm.”

“And no one wants to buy it from us…”

“Yeah?”

“But fairies like honey a lot.”

Thomas nodded. “Normally, but the fairies around here hate our guts.”

“What if we moved?” Patton said, an incredibly winsome look on his face. “I know it’s asking a lot of you, since you grew up here, and it’s your house and all, but if we moved, maybe the fairies would leave us alone? And the people somewhere else might not dislike us so much.”

Thomas thought about it for several minutes before he replied. “Moving in the winter wouldn’t be easy. I don’t have a horse, or money to buy a new house, and I don’t know how I’d sell this one either. And what does this have to do with the honey?”

Patton rubbed the back of his neck. “I might know of a fairy who would buy the honey from us?”

“How?”

“I was there a long time, I think I even made friends, and I know for certain that they like honey.”

Thomas nodded. “So maybe they would buy the honey from us, but what would they pay us with? Could we get food and water? And what would we live in?”

Patton frowned. “I haven’t quite thought it all through, but I still think we could try. Maybe we could make a plan together?”

So they did. It took a week of planning, and a week of packing and preparation, but Thomas’s house was cleaned and locked up, ready to winter uninhabited. Both he and Patton had on heavy packs, and still it might not be quite enough. They went into the woods, deep enough that they could see the ring of flowers through the trees, and then found the perfect spot. 

They dug out an area, and stacked up stones into a fireplace. They used the trees and chopped down branches to make a frame, and laid fabric over it. They then covered the whole thing in piles and piles of dead leaves, until it looked like a small hill, but with a door, and a chimney poking out. Inside was small, but once they had covered the floor with a tarp, and laid out the blankets they had brought, it turned out to be rather cozy even without a fire going. 

For a few days they came back and forth, bringing things that were needed, and piling more leaves on top as the old leaves settled. Most of the leaves were dampish, and rotting from being on the forest floor, and hopefully they wouldn’t have issues with fire. Neither one was very sure about this, but they intended to be as careful as possible.

Finally they had a den. It really couldn’t be called much else. Their hope was to get enough money from the fairies to buy food, and to scavenge the rest from the forest. Once it was spring again, they could try to move back, and hope that the fairies quit the attack on their town house.

If he was honest, Thomas didn’t think that the fairies were going to buy the honey from them, but doing something was better than doing nothing. And, if worst came to worst, if they were starving and freezing in the dead of winter, the ring was right over there, he could barter his name to Virgil in exchange for shelter. 

Patton was very excited about the potential selling of the honey. 

First he set out a small saucer just outside the ring, and put a sign next to it. Free.

It took two days for the honey to disappear, but then Patton filled the saucer again, and put out a new sign. Free. There is more for sale.

The saucer was taken, but no fairy ever showed themselves.

Patton filled it again and waited. He even tried staying up at night, but it was too cold, and he retreated back to the den. In the morning the saucer was empty again. This time Patton didn’t refill it, and tore off the bit of the sign that said free.

Three days later, an hour after dark, there was a knock at the door. Patton practically jumped up, opening the door. But then he froze. Thomas stood up and placed himself in between Patton and Logan, who was human sized. 

“I have been sent as an emissary to discuss the purchase of honey,” Logan said crisply. “I am sure that all of us would appreciate a gesture of goodwill, and as such I will say that I would prefer to be called Logic, and will call each of you by whatever title you prefer.”

“Y-you are welcome to come in, Logic, provided you come in good will. You may call me Morality.” Patton said, and despite his slight stutter Thomas could hear a rhythm in his voice as if the phrases were well practiced. 

Logan came into the den, and both he and Patton sat down. Thomas sat down near them, all too aware that it was his turn to say something. 

“I would prefer not to be addressed, Morality is the one selling the honey.”

Patton gave him a bit of an odd look, but Logan just turned toward Patton as if it were a normal thing to request. 

“As I’m sure you are aware, I have been sent by Prince Roman. He wishes me to inquire the quantity and price of the honey.”

“We have 24 quarts of honey, but we haven’t set a price yet.”

Logan shifted. “Are you expecting that I will make the first offer?”

“I had expected Prince Roman to make an offer, but as his proxy, I suppose you’ll have to,” Patton said cheerily, a perfectly innocent smile on his face. 

Logan’s jaw clenched slightly. “Your time among us has made you dangerous, Morality. This has many of our people concerned with your choice of habitation being so close.”

“I’m not dangerous.” Patton protested lightly. “I believe that the one who taught me called it growing wiser.”

Logan took in a quick breath and let it out slowly. “Because of this, we are not likely to want to pay you exorbitantly, as it might be seen as an encouragement to remain close. In addition to this, we do not have an abundance of human money.”

“So what you’re saying is, you aren’t made of honey, and you’d like me to leaf you alone?” Patton said, a bright smile on his face. 

“I—no—I don’t—that is not—-“ Logan looked almost as though he might start convulsing. 

Thomas looked at Patton in confusion. Amused confusion, but confusion. 

“Since fairies can’t lie, puns tend to blow their minds, and so do some metaphors.”

“My mind is perfectly intact!” Logan screeched. “Can we please return to civil conversation?!”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Patton chuckled. “So, what do you want to give as your first offer?”

Logan got his face back under control before he replied. “We obviously cannot purchase the honey all at once, but as a first offer, I would say that we will exchange six gold coins that are from this century for two quarts of the honey, provided you assist in transporting it into our village.”

On seeing Patton’s face startlingly unmoved by the truly amazing amount of money, Thomas was careful not to show his surprise either. 

“I am willing to assist in transportation, provided you guarantee me my safety and prompt return.”

“Of course,” Logan said, dipping his head slightly. “Then is it a deal?”

“It’s a deal.” Patton said. 

Patton picked up two of the jars and walked outside with Logan. Thomas really was worried, but as they went inside the circle, no mist came from the flowers, and they walked together without any visible problems. It was less than half an hour later that Patton came back, excitedly clutching the gold.

••^*^••

With wood being plentiful in the forest, and the money being easily enough to buy them food, they spent the winter warm and fed, if a little cramped, in the den. 

Logan came as the emissary every time, and Thomas wasn’t surprised, since Logan seemed to have the most hold on his magic, and also had Patton’s name if things went south, but he still kind of wanted to see Virgil again. 

“Logic,” Thomas said, as Logan was getting up to leave with the very last of the honey. “Do you think Anxiety would mind visiting us?”

Logan gave him a confused look for a second. “Oh, I suppose you wouldn’t have heard, he was banished from our village for letting you go.”

“What? But he didn’t--I escaped, he didn’t let me go. And if he let me go, then you let Patt-- er--Morality go.”

“I am not going to explain our judicial system to you. Suffice it to say that we were both reprimanded, and I no longer know where he is.”

“But you were friends!” Patton said. “Didn’t you look for him?”

“I have no reason to explain myself or my actions to you. Good day.”

And then Logan left.