#without properly even answering the question 😂

[theflyingfeeling]

Hellooooo it was so nice to see Allu’s cute face again 🤲🏻🥺 (looking very queer in those glasses)

I can’t believe he was in Oulu for 5 days 😭💞 and they even went on a date on Olli’s birthday?? 🤧💗

I HAD MISSED HIS CUTE LIL' FACE SO MUUUUUUCH 😭💗

and yeah, he really was there the whole entire week huh 🤧 and of course they went on a date (yes we are assuming "we" in this contex meant just the two of them because of course it was just them 🥰)

a couple of more details from the stream for us to hyperanalyse:

Aleksi forgetting his pair of BC pants in Oulu 👀 he didn't say where but I'm gonna go ahead and assume it was at Olli's place (where he probably spent more time with the pants off than on 😌)

the sleeping arrangement raffle they had on the US tour sounds like SUCH great source of fanfic tropes 🤭 imagine being "forced" to share the couch bed with your crush 😳

[just-jordie-things]

I’m in love with the idea of yuuta being with a reader that has healing abilities

Imagine him coming back from missions with such MINOR injuries and having to go to shoko’s clinic for it, and always asking for you to be the one to look after him 😂

“Yuuta I don’t think you need to have this checked… and don’t you know how to use reversed curse energy too?”

“….no”

Or one time he shows up without any injuries so he has to fake a migraine or something lmaooo that simp would use any chance he could get just to see you

obsessed. lovesick yuuta is so stupid and i love him sm for it <3

yuuta only ever saw shoko in passing, and always away from the infirmary. he admired shoko well enough, and the feeling was mutual (or as mutual as shoko was capable of feeling) but he simply never had a need to visit her for her abilities. having mastered rct not long into his first year as a student yuuta was capable of taking care of his own injuries.

but after a few years, shoko began to notice an uptick in the younger sorcerer's presence in her infirmary. and it was no secret what it was that brought him around.

"okkotsu, back again so soon?" your voice is a sweet coo- it always is when he comes staggering in to present you with yet another injury. you tilt your head and pout t him with worry. meanwhile shoko has to excuse herself for a smoke so she won't vomit from the sickening sweetness.

yuuta never questions shoko's disappearance when he comes around. he's too grateful to have you all to himself.

he's cradling his broken wrist poorly, letting his hand flop outwards at an angle it wasn't meant to be bent. its gruesome, the bone showing and blood staining his white jacket. but the difficult part isn't managing the pain. the difficult part is holding back the natural instinct to fix it himself.

"this looks nasty," you tut, replacing his hand holding the ugly injury with both of your own. you barely examine it for a minute before you're using own technique, and like magic his wrist repaired and his hand is facing the right direction again. "there we go" you give the fix a smile, squeezing his wrist first and then reaching for his hand and prodding your fingers around that too. you tell yourself you're only double checking to be sure everything healed properly.

it takes all of yuuta's efforts not to snatch your hand in his own and hold on tight. he can feel every muscle in his body relaxing as he gazes at you.

"thanks, doc" he says, and just like the last hundred or maybe thousand times he's said it, you smile just a little bit.

"anytime, okkotsu," you tell him, and you mean it, but something about this visit has you questioning him for once. your fingers finally still on his hand, a few wrapped around his own fingers, others pressed into his palm. your pinky stretches out to the inside of his healed yet bloody wrist, hovering against his pulse point. "but... it must be tiring, coming 'round here to get fixed up..." you trail off, catching his eyes even though he was clearly trying to avoid yours. "...when you could just heal yourself"

yuuta's face begins to flush with color and you can't help but squeeze his hand with your delight. did you think he was an idiot for pulling this stunt over and over again for the last few months? maybe... but were you the idiot that watched him waltz in here with every excuse under the sun- from his organs nearly spilling out to a minor headache- who was more than happy to sit and heal him anyways? perhaps...

"...suppose it can be"

yuuta's answer comes closely, and without much explanation to you at all. you only smile at him, dropping one of your hands from his so that when you leaned in closer to him, you could swipe his messy bangs away from his eyes.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd think you were looking for an excuse to come see me" your voice is a whisper, and also the sweetest thing yuuta's ever heard in his life.

"maybe every once in a while..." he admits, and in his mind, your giggle outranks your whispered voice.

"so you think using up all my band-aids for your nicks and paper cuts was necessary?" you tease, tilting your head at him ever so slightly.

"i mean... i'd say mission accomplished" he replies with a grin that could only be described as shit eating.

you roll your eyes at him, but your own smile is nothing short of fond.

"okkotsu yuuta, the next time i see you in here, it better be because you're coming to ask me out properly, and not while you're bleeding all over my floor"

his grin softens as he melts before you.

"noted"

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to the Mistaken One's Chapters 159-160

We get two chapters today, probably to celebrate the start of the manhwa's Season 3.

TL;DR - Cale planned to drag all dragons he knew to Aipotu. Best teacher Cale. Dragon Tears is a lie. Another talking book. Underling Cale. Generous dragon and her three gifts. Dragon with Past attribute confirmed. Cale meets Tang Clan, Emei School, and Qingcheng School to get the answers to his two questions.

Soos? LSH = ✅ CJS = ✅

Worried Daddy Cale First part was quite touching. 🥰 Cale was worried about the young Raon being burdened with saving the world stuff. So he planned to drag all the dragons he knew when he goes to Aipotu. He'd negotiate with GoD.

And when Raon asked if he had to save the world, Cale replied that doing it alone was impossible. He should do it together with his allies and companions. ✨The power of friendship.✨

Best Teacher Cale This was the funniest and cutest part of today's chapters. 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Cale: It's easier if we do it with many people. Don't you think so? Raon: That's right! I like overwhelming fights! Cale: Good. *nods* Raon: And the stronger our side, the better! Cale: You know well. Raon: And I hope our side doesn't get hurt as much as possible! Cale: That's right. Raon: To do that, we must have as many people on our side as possible! Cale: Correct. (You've learned well.) Raon: And if we are at a disadvantage, we can just run away! Cale: That is correct. Raon: And then we can hit their backs! Cale: ...Uh-huh. That's right. (What he said is correct anyway.) Raon: We just need to prepare thoroughly and hit them first! Cale: …Yeah. Raon: And it's even better to rob the enemies of all their treasure! Cale: …Uh-huh. Raon: We can scam and scam them again! Cale: … CJS: Pfft. Cale: *glares at CJS* CJS: *lowers his head* Sui: *smiles* Wow, you learned well. Raon: *pushes out chubby belly* Of course! I am great, so I learn everything well! Cale: (Please just stop talking.) *shakes head* Sui: *pokes Raon's belly* You just need to think of playing. Raon: That tickles! *hides behind CH* CH: *carries Raon* There's nothing to worry about. Raon: That's right! Just destroy them! Cale: (Aigoo...) *sighs*

Another Talking Book Yes, another one. The dead dragon left a book, so Cale's group went back to the study to get it. We then find out that the dead dragon is an old woman from the talking book's voice. And she was a crazy dragon from the way she crazily laughed.

On a more serious note, she spoke that the dragon with the Present attribute is the only one who could stop "He who could control time." Oooooh, new villain! 😊

Dragon Tears is a Lie So the dead dragon deceived the Sichuan governor's ancestors when she said that it was her tears there. The truth was, it was her dead body immersed in a lake inside, and covered by ice above. And then the lake was covered by a stone floor, which was the floor of the cavity Cale's group was in.

Underling Cale Another funny part. The book called Cale as the "dragon's underling." 🤣🤣🤣 Cale was in serious disbelief and even had several lines questioning it. Of course, CJS laughed and Cale glared at him again. 😂

And then Raon poked CH, whispering that CH was now smiling like Ron... which shocked Cale, who probably imagined CH with vicious Ron's gentle smile. 🤣🤣🤣 Even the Sichuan governor asked Cale if he was the dragon's underling... 😂

The book then fell down, and words were written on the cover: "The Joyful Dragon and the Dragon's Underling Will Become Stronger If They Eat All of This" ...What a crazy dragon! Poor Cale. 😂

Generous Dragon and Her Three Gifts Fortunately, the crazy dragon called Cale as "dragon's guardian" afterwards. The reason why she preserved her body in the lake was because her three gifts were there. And we get more info on how crazy that dragon was!

Ring of the Dragon Lord = "When I think about the hard work I did to steal it, I seriously cry. But without that, the Lord can't use his power properly, okay? Pwahahaha! Maybe he won't even be acknowledged as a proper Dragon Lord even if he attains the Lord position, and he must be worried if someone catches that he's lacking? Pwahahaha!"

Crown of the Emperor = "And the crown was used by the first emperor of the last empire I lived in, who was very famous as a dragon hunter? I stole the crown when 'he' destroyed the empire! Pwahahaha! 'That man' is probably going crazy because he can't find the crown? Pwahahaha!"

Sword of the Elven Knight = "Oh, and the sword is used by the elves who served the Dragon Lord for generations. Keke. I stole that too! This is the sword that the first Dragon Lord of our world gave to the person whom he appointed as a knight to protect him, and it's amazing! Fufufu. Maybe the guardian of the Dragon Lord is also lacking right now!"

To summarize, the new villain, probably He who can control time, toppled down an empire. That new villain is also the current Dragon Lord of Aipotu. However, the crazy dead dragon had stolen the crown and the ring, so the new villain is not a complete Dragon Lord. Something about how the ring is the key to using the power of a Dragon Lord. And his elven knight is alike him because the sword was stolen too... 😂

Cale was seriously happy when he read what the gifts were. He changed the way he called the dragon from "crazy" to "generous."

And then Ron apologized to him, saying he only found sweet tea here. Cale was secretly happy that the tea would not be sour. BUT! When he drank the tea, it was TOO SWEET! 🤣🤣🤣

Dragon with a Past Attribute We had a present and a future attribute, which means we also have a dragon with a Past attribute. The generous dragon said that the guy with a Past attribute was probably dead. She and that guy had failed in stopping He who could control time. So their only hope was the dragon with the Present attribute, Raon.

There was a part where Cale was afraid to meet this dragon if he was still alive. Cale was thinking that he did not want his current companions to see his past. 🥲

Ending Remarks Today was a blessed day, full of laughter and serious info dump. 🥰 Next week will continue Cale having the answer to his two questions: Are you incompetent fools or treasonous traitors?

[masque-of-plague]

what was one of ur fave scenes in supercritical to write?

FIRST OFF!! Omg hi?? 🥺🥺 Thank you for the ask!! 💕I'm so happy to have the platform to talk endlessly about supercritical asdfjals;djf

OUGH HARD QUESTION!! Specifically my favorite to write? I think my answer has to be the end of Chapter 5, with Xisuma's backstory. That scene is so much different than my normal way of writing and I really enjoyed having the opportunity to tell a short story within a longer story. It didn't matter that things were brief and vague, that was the style hehehehe I liked being able to drop little details without having to worry about resolving them or properly developing them over time. Like Three and Four can have mild homoerotic tension! Four's a grumpy tsundere who loves his wife, his daughter, and his best friend and just about nobody else. Little details that I can just say outright or include with off-handed details and either way works. In general, I just love a corruption arc as well, so that was very fun. And of course, I buried myself in Falsuma feels 😂 And now I have to live with the knowledge that if I want more supercritical!Falsuma, I have to create it. The Curse sdfasjdf

My favorite part to have written, even if I was complaining the entire time about the process of actually writing it is probably towards the end of Chapter 6. The Grian jumping scene was one of the first clear ideas that flashed through my brain when the plot came to me (I wasn't joking when I said that the plot of this story came to me fully formed skfadfj) so the reward of getting to finally write it was amazing. Along with that, I enjoyed Evil X being very very sadistic towards Grian. Might've had a little too much fun if I'm being honest 😂 And then of course their reunion and kiss 💕 Writing endings is something I put a lot of effort in, so again, the process of actually writing it was....grueling at time, but I was SO HAPPY to have written it. @mellioops illustrated the finale smooch and it felt like a part of my brain could rest happily, being able to visually see Scarian bloody and bruised but holding each other like nothing else mattered.

In GENERAL, I'd say the parts I enjoyed writing the most were definitely the office interludes with the reporters bantering with Grian. I loooove writing some silly banter. Similarly, Cub and Grian being catty at each other always made me laugh to write.

Honorable mentions for favorite scenes to write include:

The festival date where I got to be heavy handed with some metaphors and symbolism >:P Illustrated by @all54321

Their first flight where Grian goes from freaking out and being upset with Scar to actually really enjoying himself. Inspired a little bit by the time I made one of my friends go on a roller coaster with me which she hated until made her open her eyes and then we rode it again because of how much fun it was. 💕

Their first kiss scene which is ALSO NOW ILLUSTRATED BY @flykering WAHHHHH

afkasjdfa I know you asked for one scene anon but uhhhh I took the opportunity to talk about many 😂 Thank you again for the ask!! 💕

[littlespacereader]

@dino-boyo-agere gave me such a wonderful Supernatural request that I literally had to break it up into two parts because I realized I was writing such a long story!😂 I promise your request is going to be the part 2 of this story because I feel the questions you asked in your request are better answered in the second part.

I decided to write something a little different for me. It’s not my standard comfort agere fic but I’m really proud of the interesting story that plays out here. There some LGBTQ+ acceptance, there’s some fun dialogue and there’s even a cliffhanger! You don’t need to read the other fics to understand this one, but if you’d like to here’s the first one in my mini series, and here’s the second one.

Please everyone enjoy the part one of this adorable Supernatural Age Regression fic! But please be warned with the trigger warnings below!

The Little Hunt Begins

(Part 1)

Little!Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester

TW - the reason why there is no SFW tag is because of usual supernatural violence, language & kidnapping at the end. (Don’t worry this is resolved in part 2) Please be warned if this isn’t your speed!

Tags - hiding regression, diapers, thumb sucking, CG Castiel, LGBTQ+ confessions, brotherly acceptance!, cliffhanger ending, sorry not sorry, told by Dean’s POV,

Nickname - Sammy, ‘ammy

Click here for Part 2

The past few months have been the most peaceful months Dean’s had in years. With Castiel as his Caregiver, he’s been regressing regularly in the bunker with Castiel watching over him.

His peace would’ve continued if it hadn’t been for Sam finding a new hunt for the two of them. He doesn’t blame his brother, they have been inching to get out of the bunker for a while now.

But the thing is, it’s been a while since they had a hunt with Dean’s new regression schedule. The whole idea made him nervous, very nervous.

Dean paced back and forth in his room while Castiel sat on his bed.

“Why can’t you just let me ask Sam to join?” Cas asked.

“Because it will look suspicious! He’s already been questioning why the two of us are always together. I just…” Dean sat on the bed beside Cas, “I just don’t want him to know.”

Cas sighed, wrapping his arm around Dean, “You know, Sam might understand if you just take the time to explain it to him. With everything you’ve been through he might understand your need for regression.”

“No, NO! He can’t know Cas. He can’t.” Dean shook his head. “He wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t think you’re giving Sam enough credit. I think if you took the time to properly explain it he would understand.” Cas countered but Dean wasn’t listening.

He turned his body towards Cas, hiding his face in his shoulder. His arms wrapped Castiel’s neck. “He can’t know…I don’t want him to.”

Castiel sighed but nodded his head. His arms wrapped around Dean, holding his Little close. “Then he won’t know.”

“I’m just…scared. I don’t want to regress around him.” It was hard for Dean to admit it. After all, how many hunts has be done before Castiel found out about his regression? But now, without Castiel joining him, he felt vulnerable.

“You know that just in case you do all you have to do is call on me and I’ll be right there.” Cas started to explain, “But, I do have a plan that’s going to help you through this hunt.”

That got Dean to lift his head off Cas’ shoulder and look at him intrigued.

~~~

With a long goodbye to Cas, Dean joined Sam in the garage and the two took off to their hunt, miles away.

The car ride was quiet for the most part. Dean blasted his music while Sam played on his phone. But then the silence was broken.

“What’s been going on with you and Cas?”

Dean almost swerved the car.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re always hanging out together. Like more than usual. Are you guys…um…”

“What Sammy? Spit it out.” Dean sighed.

“Are you guys a couple?” Sam asked.

Now that short circuited Dean’s brain all together. Here’s him worried about Sam finding out about his regression that the thought of this looking as if they were dating didn’t even cross his mind.

But now that he was thinking about it, he did like Cas. He’s a great Caregiver and he’s always been so kind to Dean even outside his regression. What if they were something more than just Caregiver and Regressor?

These are thoughts for another day when he isn’t so stressed about this stupid hunt!

A small blush started to creep onto Dean’s cheeks at the thoughts circling his brain.

“What? No. No we aren’t a couple.” Dean tried to say as cool as usual.

“Really? Because you seen all flustered at the thought of it.” Sam chuckled.

“No we aren’t dating Sammy. I would’ve told you if we were.”

There was silence in the car again until another question popped up.

“But you like Castiel?”

Dean’s heart dropped. Of course he liked Castiel. He meant everything to his little side. But he always meant everything to him outside of his regression. But this question wasn’t meant for that answer…but Dean still answered it.

“I mean…I don’t know, maybe. Would that be so wrong?” Dean asked with s pounding heart.

Sam shook his head, “No dude that wouldn’t be wrong at all. I mean if you like Cas that much maybe you should ask him.”

Relief filled Dean’s soul. Even though it wasn’t relief to his stresses about his regression, it was relief that his brother, despite everything, still loved and accepted Dean for who he was.

“Maybe I will, maybe I will.” Dean smirked. “What about you? Anyone on your radar?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to turn pink, “What? No. No, there’s no one on my radar.”

“I don’t know, I hear you always on the phone with someone. Maybe they’re a special someone?”

“Yeah you wish.” Sam chuckled.

“More like you wish.” Dean chuckled back. “Come oooooooooonnnnnnnnn, who are they?”

Sam smiled as his face got more pink. But he looked a little nervous at the admission, “He’s…um…he’s unexpectedly really kind.”

“He?” Dean laughed, “Would you look at us Sammy?” He laughed. Sam laughed too. Would you look at them. Both perfectly accepted for who they were.

“Just make sure whoever this he is knows that if he hurts you I’ll kill him.”

Sam chuckled, “Yeah? Okay Dean.” He rolled his eyes playfully.

“I’m not kidding I will! This guy better watch out.” Dean added trying his best to be intimidating.

~~~

Castiel’s plan was simply yet perfect for Dean. Dean’s biggest fear is regressing in his sleep and waking up to a wet bed. The solution? He secretly wears his usual diapers to bed.

But how will he get around Sam seeing?

Well every night he’ll take a shower and hide the diaper his pajamas. After he’s showered he’ll change into a diaper and just hop into bed, go straight under the covers and avoiding Sam’s detection all together.

Then in the morning he’ll wake up early, get changed while Sam sleeps and throw the wet diaper away.

It’s a fool proof plan Cas came up with!

They traveled all day and settled into their hotel for the night. Sam sat at the hotel’s table and researched away the case.

“Apparently there’s been a lot of mysteries happening to couples in the area dating back to the 1600s. Most called it witchcraft.” Sam explained.

Dean sighed, “So we’re dealing with witches?”

“Sounds like it.” Sam sighed back closing his computer before getting up to flop into his hotel bed.

Dean took it as his que to get ready for bed. With shaking hands he grabbed his pajamas with the diaper hidden inside and stood up.

“You need the bathroom before I shower?”

“Ummmm, no. No, you’re all good. Thanks.” Sam replied before turned his attention back to his phone.

Dean nodded before slipping inside. With the door shut behind him, he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

After a shower and a quick change, Dean was shaking from nerves…again. With his diaper on under his clothes he feared the couple of steps from bathroom to bed would scream to Sam that he was wearing a diaper.

But it didn’t. Dean carefully made his way back to his bed and under the covers before Sam has even realized he left the bathroom.

When he did realize, Sam got up to use the bathroom himself. When he returned he turned off the light and wish his brother a good night before heading off to bed himself.

The plan worked!! Dean turned to his side and closed his eyes. Castiel’s plan had worked! Sam never said or suspected a thing!

“Thank you Cas.” Dean called out silently to the Angel.

A warm and calm presence wrapped around Dean, causing him to know the Angel got his message. His eyes slipped close as he felt safe enough to fall asleep.

~~~

The plan was fool proof. As the next day arrived Sam never got suspicious of Dean and his diaper.

They went out and talked to the police as they began their investigation of the murders. Then spent the rest of the day in the local library looking into the historical records.

“There,” Sam pointed out, “There’s a florist down the road from here that used to be the home of a famous witch’s house before she was evicted and well…” he trailed off.

“My guess is if they’re here, that’s where they would be hiding out.”

Dean yawned before patting Sam back, “Good work Sammy!”

He looked up at the clock in the library. It was too late to go today, this would have to be a mission for tomorrow. “Come on, let’s call it a day. We’ll go tomorrow.”

Sam nodded, rubbing his tired eyes, “Yeah that’s a good idea.”

~~~

After eating some take out, both Winchester were exhausted after a long day of working and researching. Both laid on their respective beds absolutely tired.

Dean didn’t feel like a shower tonight, too exhausted to pull himself into the shower and back into bed. But he did need to get changed discreetly. So he grabbed his pajamas, hidden diaper and tooth brush and went into the bathroom.

Dean changed for the night and was beginning to brush his teeth. He wasn’t in there long, maybe about 10 minutes when there was a frantic knock at the bathroom door.

“Dean…a-are you going to be long?” Sam asked with a worried tone to his voice.

“No, why what’s the-.” Dean opened the bathroom door, tooth brush still in mouth when he was ripped out of the bathroom by Sam. He promptly slammed the door in Dean’s face.

Dean stood there, a bit taken back. A thousand thoughts ran through his head as to what happened to his brother, but one image stayed in his mind. Sam was holding himself, as if he was about to have an accident.

Dean was sure he saw it, a move he himself had done on occasion when he was so deep into his little headspace he almost forgot to go potty. Could Sam be…What?! No. No! Well…maybe?

With a thousand thoughts running through his head, Dean took a seat on his bed and continued to brush his teeth. Eventually Sam walked out of the bathroom, face red as an apple and avoiding Dean’s eyes.

Dean went to the bathroom himself, spit out his tooth paste and slipped back into his bed. Sam seemed as though he wanted to go right back to bed and avoid everything all together, but Dean on the other hand want to ask him questions.

“You okay Sammy?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I just…I just really needed to go pot-…really needed to go pee. That’s all.” Sam explained, face red as ever. “You were in there forever!”

“I was not!”

“You were too!”

“I was maybe in there for 5 minutes!” Dean complained.

“No! You were in there for wayyyyy longer. I was dying out here.”

Dean wanted to ask and say so much more, but he could see the topic easy really starting to get to Sam who was gripping his blanket to the point of almost ripping it.

“Alright, alright maybe I was in there for too long. I’m sorry. I just…I just wanted to ask because I’m was worried maybe you were feeling sick or something.” Dean asked, starting to sound sincere.

Sam’s grip on the blanket ceased when he heard Dean’s honest answer. “I’m fine Dean. Like I said…just had to go pee.”

“Okay, I was just worried. Good night Sammy. Sleep well.”

“You too Dean.” Sam added before turning over and going to sleep.

Dean turns over as well and tried to go to sleep but his mind races with a thousand possibilities, one of them being Sam as another Little just like him.

~~~

Dean slept past his alarm and woke up a lot later than he wanted. He remembered hearing Sam on the phone with someone then the sound of the hotel room door closing.

His eyes fluttered open as he moved his thumb from his mouth to rub his tired eyes. WAIT. Dean sat up and moved his thumb far away from his mouth, wiping his face on his sleeve of any remaining drool.

He looked around frantically but thankfully his brother was out. He didn’t see Sam meaning Sam maybe didn’t see him sucking his thumb.

Dean sighed. He just wanted this case to be over so he could just go back to cuddling with Castiel and watch Scooby Doo.

But maybe they could wrap this case up today or tomorrow, then the idea of being with his Caregiver wasn’t such a far off idea.

Dean pulled himself out of bed and quickly got changed before Sam came back to the hotel room. In his hands were two plastic bags from the supermarket.

“Where have you been?” Dean asked.

“Good morning to you to sleeping beauty.” Sam joked quickly stashing one of the bags by his stuff before setting the other on the table. “I just had to grab something at the store for myself but I was kind enough to get us breakfast too.”

Sam threw Dean a box onto the bed he was sitting on. Dean leaned forward and grabbed the box, looking back up at Sam like he was crazy.

“What hell is this?”

“What do you mean?”

Dean help up the box of granola bars, “This is breakfast?”

“What? I always eat those for breakfast?”

“That’s because you’re 80. I can’t eat this! I need a real breakfast!” Dean could hear the twinge of his littler self in his voice.

“Come on dude, really?” Sam sighed.

Dean crossed his arms, “Really. I don’t want to eat this…this healthy stuff.” He felt the urge to stomp his foot but quickly stopped himself.

He uncrossed his arms and cleared his throat and tried to push his little headspace down, “Come on, let’s go get some real food. My treat.”

“I’ll umm….I’ll meet you there, I just need to go to the bathroom real fast and get changed…into my suit! For the case of course.” Sam tried to right away convince. But Dean could sense there was something more.

But he didn’t question it. He just took the que right away, “Don’t take too long, I’m starving. Meet you at the car.” He smile to try and reassure his brother before grabbing his keys and exiting the hotel room.

~~~

They never talked about it. Not at the breakfast diner nor at the drive to the florist. It didn’t stop Dean from having a million thoughts about what was happening.

It wasn’t his business, he knew it wasn’t. He asked Sam if he was okay, and he said he was. That was as far as he wanted to get into. But it was hard to stop himself from the thousand of possibilities running through his mind, mostly his brother being a Regressor like him.

But they had a case to get back to! So with stomachs full of pancakes they were in search of the witch florist! There was just one issue…the address they had was wrong.

So they drove, and drove, and drove around the town in search of this damn florist! Finally after a hour of driving around this stupid town they found the florist hidden away off the main road.

When the two walked through the door, the smell of the flowers practically smacked them in the face. Immediately both were taken back by the intensity.

“Boys! Welcome!” A woman at the counter welcomed them. “What brings you in today? Looking to get something for your girlfriends?” She should only know.

Sam walked around the flower shop while Dean walked to the counter, “I’m agent Graham and he’s agent Mobius. We’re investigating the murders of Julia and Andrews. The police told us they visited here before they were found well…”

“I heard. Oh it was terrible what happened to that lovely couple. They were so young and vibrant. It’s a shame really.”

“What were they in for?”

“Well, they seemed to be having some relationship issues. Apparently he never bought her any flowers. So she dragged him in here to get her some.”

“What flowers did they get?”

“Oh they got these ones over here.” The older woman led the way through the florist shop. Dean nodded his head to Sam to check the back while he walked with the older woman to another part of the story. He nodded back and went to it.

Dean followed the older woman as she made her way through the store. The store was loaded with different flowers, all different colors, sizes and scents. It was starting to get to him a bit. He felt dizzy.

“How long have you guys been here?” He asked.

“Oh, for many many years child.”

Child? That’s a strange nickname. But she’s old…old people have strange nicknames he guesses.

“Here we are. They ordered these.” She pulled a white flower out from a bundle and handed it to him. “They’re in season right now, take a whiff.”

Dean looked at the flower then looked at her. He needed to buy Sam some time anyway, plus what was one extra flower when he was smelling all of them since he entered the damn place. He brought the flower close and took a whiff.

Suddenly it was as if smell had punched him in the gut. He gasped and dropped the flower as he felt himself quickly being thrown into his little headspace without any control.

“What the hell was that?!” He backed up.

“Such big language for such a young boy like yourself. You hunters really should be more careful considering your headspaces.”

Dean could feel himself not only regressing but getting really tired really fast. He needed to get Sam and they needed to get out of here NOW.

He started to backtrack but he wasn’t as coordinated as he was before. He swayed from one wall to the other, trying to get to where Sam was.

“Sammy!!”

“Oh I’m sure your brother is being taken good care of.” He heard the older woman call out from behind.

He was moving more slowly, his eyes drooping and his regression taking hold. Tears fell from his eyes. “S-S- ‘ammy!” He wanted his brother! He would protect him. He would save him from this lady! He’s always so smart and he always has a good plan!

But before Dean could reach him fell to the ground, his head swirling. He look to the side and there was his brother, sound asleep on the floor just a little away from him.

“ ‘ammy.” Dean muttered, reaching his arm out to his brother before his eyes rolled back. He fell into a deep sleep as he longed for his stuffies, his toys, his sippy cup and most of all his Angel.

(AN- Oh no! Our boys are in peril! Don’t worry I’m currently writing part 2 while you’re reading this. Let me know how you enjoyed this change of fic writing. It’s a little darker than what I normally write but I kind of like the change a bit! I’ve got a darker moon knight fic in mind too. Let me know if you’d read something like that too. But back to this fic…what’s going on with Sam👀 Who’s he on the phone with all the time?👀 What’s up with that? All shall be revealed in part 2 with is from Sam’s POV. Stay tuned!)

[evaslytherpuff]

Okay, since you're an Omi girlie, I'm going to ask for 19, 24 and 35 for the 50 OTP Things for Ominis and Vivian! <3

Hi, Becki! How are you? I hope you are doing well!🫂❤️ Thank you for asking about my favorite couple. I’ve been having major writers block and I’ve been dealing with a lot of family issues and loss in my life. It’s been chaotic and honestly, heartbreaking. Answering these questions has really been helping me and inspiring me. It makes me want to write.😍 Thank you for submitting them!🥹🥰

19. Who loves to call the other one cute names?

Vivian definitely does it more than Ominis.🤭 She has so many for him. Love, Darling, Prince, Mon Amour, Chéri, the list goes on. She knows he loves to sleep and take naps whenever he can and she is the only person who can properly wake him up. (That he allows to wake him up.😂) She will whisper all these cute names to him and stroke his hair or back until he wakes up with a smile.

Ominis has a few for his curvy queen.❤️ Darling, My Love, Princess, his Little Serpent. (When she’s in her Animagus form.) He will playfully tease her about her height but secretly, she loves it, especially when he kisses the top of her head. Although she is much shorter than him, she is not a pushover and that is something that Ominis adores about her.

24. Who is the talker/ Who is the listener?

Vivian tends to talk and Ominis is a very good listener. Vivian isn’t really shy and she’s confident with who she is. She’s a French girl with a passion for fashion and loves talking about all her designs with Ominis. He is also her business partner and she will not sell a design without his approval. They make a dynamic and powerful team in the fashion industry. Ominis will also listen when she goes through one of her rants in French and does his best to calm her down.

Vivian listens to Ominis as well. He’s able to be himself with her and she’s always telling him how he can talk to her about anything. She doesn’t judge him or make him feel worse about himself. People are often surprised to discover that Ominis actually has a silly and humorous side. Vivian encourages him to just let go and enjoy life, especially after everything he has been through. He loves to cuddle and play with her cat Willow. Ominis and Vivian bring out the best in one another and even a few students envy their relationship.

35. Who goes overboard on the holidays?

Hands down, it’s Vivian. lol. She will design matching costumes for them, plan to go to a couples baking class for Christmas, have Ominis spend the holiday with her grandmother in a cozy cabin, buy lots of candy for Halloween and feed it to him. Ominis may not enjoy the costumes or large crowds but he loves how happy it makes Vivian and if she’s happy then he is happy. She will reward him for being a good sport as well with lots of steamy sex.🤭 He’s been a good boy in her eyes, he deserves it.😁

I had so much fun answering these! I thank you once again for submitting them, Becki.🥰❤️

[tikay21]

🐺How to use hashtags on tumblr to organize a story!

It was like paddling in an open sea .... Ok, it really took me 4 years to figure out the thing with the internal hashtags on Tumblr and realize that there is an advantageous sense in them initially only working within your own blog. If you don’t really need them, the benefit isn’t immediately obvious.

Plus, the display of the most commonly used hashtags leads you to assume they are more universally intended. The advantage of internal blog hashtags didn’t click for me - until the moment I actually needed them to bring order to my blog chaos and understood that you can easily sort everything with them, especially when it comes to storytelling.

I originally thought: “I'll make sideblogs for the stories, so I can have everything neatly gathered, with matching colors and background images." However, the hashtags from the main blog don’t work in the sideblogs anymore unless I link them and unless I’ve missed something again. Now I’m wondering if I even need the sideblogs anymore. Probably not. So, new plan:

I’ll post everything on my main blog

tag it with both specific and general tags

using intern unique tags for different supposes

and that’s pretty much it. At the top of a pinned post, I’ll provide an overview of what you can find under which hashtag, and they’ll automatically function as a sorter for an entire internal storyline. Done.

Btw, thanks for the right hints, which made me take a closer look, test things out, and understand how it works by answering my question on it here ...

@figure-it-out-later and @tenyrasims - which made me think about it and especially @satureja13 for the needed key to my head to unlock this blind point🥰. from @satureja13 : ... I just make sure to tag every post properly so I can add new stuff to my pinned post. You can also keep your pinned post clean by making sub posts, like I do for my chapters, for example. ... I can find every event, character, location… within seconds. That’s what I really love about tumblr.

So, what can I do now to satisfy my need for beeing over organization🙈? Technically, I could delete the sideblogs, but I can also use them in parallel, reblogging the respective content there, and thus have everything in a separate place, visually appealing with the story-appropriate colors - for my own peace of mind or for anyone who prefers to read there. But I’ll only reblog, not post the original, so following the sideblogs isn’t really necessary - though of course, you can if you prefer the color-coordinated layout there. If I ever decide it’s all too much, I can delete the sideblogs without losing my original content, as long as I only reblog from the mainblog to the sideblogs.

Is anyone still following? Probably not,😂 but I think this works for me.

Long story short: I’m going to rearrange things once more and adjust the pinned post accordingly... and bring any duplicate content back to the main blog. My old stuff from before the long break will stay here, and maybe I’ll update broken links if I ever get bored - not that I know the meaning of the word, lol. Otherwise, it’ll just stay as it is, since there’s barely anything left in my EA gallery, except for the stuff that can’t be deleted.

Ok, here we go ...

[escapismqueen]

Chenford + drunk confession

Hey, here’s a little fic for your prompt. Thank you for requesting it, I really needed the inspiration 😂💕hope you like it 🥰

A Chenford pre-relationship fic- How do you know ?

Lucy is having a rough day, so with the help of Tim, Nyla and Angela take her out for the night. But what happens when Lucy drunkenly confesses something to not only Angela, but to Tim as well ?

Inc: Fluff, hurt/comfort, protective Tim, Angela, Nyla and Lucy being adorable

Warnings: alcohol consumption and talk of a difficult parental relationship

Tim looked over at Lucy in the shop, eyebrows scrunched in concern at her lack of conversation. Usually, she’ll have told him 3 different stories by now, wether they be from childhood, police academy or just last night; she always had something to tell him. And as much as Tim would complain and exclaim that there was to be ‘no personal talk’ in the shop, he secretly loved it and felt excited every time Lucy opened her mouth.

“You okay ?” He stares at her every few seconds, his focus on the road suddenly seeming unimportant and dull. Lucy’s head swings towards Tim’s, his words snapping her out of the trance she’s been in for the past half an hour. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, I’m fine” she answers in a tone of voice that is fooling nobody; especially not Tim Bradford.

Tim breathes out, hands clenching around the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as his agitation and anxiety rises. Lucy always tells him what’s wrong, she even gave him a 20 minute speech once about how ‘it’s important to acknowledge your own feelings so you don’t get lost in them’. She’d told him this when they got called out to a Domestic- the couple had been arguing every night for a week and had several calls made about them to the police; turns out that they were just missing each other because they’d both been working late. Lucy had a lot to say on the matter.

Thinking about a way to approach the subject without pushing her too hard, Tim keeps glancing at Lucy, eyes darting back and forth between her and the road. Her silence doesn’t diminish, so Tim makes a decision that even has him questioning his professionalism. He pulls the shop over to the curb, feeling confident that today is a quieter day, and there’s been no calls to them as of yet.

Lucy casts her gaze towards Tim hesitantly; did he just pull over ? It’s not their lunch break yet and they haven’t had a call, what’s gotten into him ? “Tim, wha-“

“Tell me what’s going on” he looks at her with an impatient expression, jaw slightly hardened and his whole body turned towards her. He may be trying to seem annoyed, but Lucy doesn’t miss the worry that floats in his eyes; she’s seen it enough times to know when it’s there. “It’s nothing important, honestly I’m fine.” Tim sighs, the look of disbelief that crosses his face is almost humorous, and Lucy wound have laughed if she didn’t feel so crappy.

“You’re fine ? So that’s why you’ve not said a word all day and why you’ve been moping about looking outside your window ? That’s fine is it ?” She looks at him with exasperation, though she’s privately flattered that he cares this much. “It’s my Mom” he nods in understanding; this explains her mood. Tim knows Lucy Chen like the back of his hand, and he knows how complicated her relationship with her Mother is, so whatever problem she is currently harbouring, it can’t be a good one.

“It’s just, we haven’t really spoken properly for a while, since she said all that stuff about my job. But it was her birthday yesterday so I called her up last night, and she just- she just completely tore me down in any way she could ! It was either ‘you’re stupid for staying at this job’ or ‘you’re not being a very good daughter’ or ‘have I had any dates recently, because a man ‘won’t wait forever’” she rolls her eyes in frustration, her hands flying up to emphasise every word she utters. Tim can’t help but focus on the last one ‘a man won’t wait forever’, he may not know everything when it comes to love, but he knows that a man in love would wait, and he would wait until the end of time for a woman like Lucy; he knows he would, but he’s not about to tell her that.

“I’m just so sick of feeling small around her. I’m sick of never feeling good enough in anything I do!” Her anger is clear from any angle, wether she could be heard or not, her body language screamed rage, hurt, exhaustion. Tim can feel his heart tighten at the sound of torment in her voice. Lucy is the epitome of sunshine, and so seeing her any different feels wrong. He thinks for a moment, unsure if he can say what he wants to, he doesn’t want to overstep and upset her even more, but they’ve been through so much together, and each of them trusts the other with their life, so he convinces himself to open up.

“Listen Chen, I don’t know if this is my place to say, but I’m going to anyway” he takes a breath and looks deeply into her eyes with sincerity. “Nobody, and especially not your Mom, should be speaking to you like that. You’re feeling angry and upset because the way she treats you is wrong and just because she gave you life, doesn’t mean she gets to decide what you do with it. And for the record, any man stupid enough not to wait for you, doesn’t deserve you in the first place.” Tim’s eyes widen slightly in surprise at himself; sure, they’ve had heart to hearts before, many times in fact, but has he ever said anything that personal regarding her love life ?

Before Lucy can give her response, Tim cuts in, anxious to sway her mind from the last thing he said. “I’m just saying, it’s okay if you need to cut her out completely, at least for a while. You may be her daughter, but she’s your mother, and mothers aren’t supposed to cause their daughters pain.”

Lucy is silent, her mind digesting every word that she’s just heard. She needed this. Other than Jackson, everyone else had told her that her mother only had her ‘best Interest at heart’ but it’s easy to say that when you haven’t lived with it your whole life. And here Tim is, saying easing her worry and guilt by completely validating her feelings, and telling her that it’s her Mom that’s in the wrong. She didn’t realise how much she needed to hear it from somebody else, and now that Jackson is gone, she thought she’d never hear it again. Lucy knew that Tim understood that she felt a certain way towards her Mother, but she hadn’t realised he knew just how much he understood. In a way, she supposes she should have considering what she knows about Tim’s dad, but when her Mom signed her up to have her eggs frozen, Tim’s response had been “or, she’s just looking out for you knowing how busy you are” so it’s safe to say his response to this did surprise her slightly.

Lucys continued silence starts to ring alarm bells in Tim’s head “Lucy, I’m sorry, I-“

“No, no, don’t be. You don’t know how much that meant to me, so Thankyou.” She gives him a reassuring smile and a grateful stare that she hopes he doesn’t miss. “And you’re right, I think I’m going to tell her we can’t speak for a while, even on holidays.” Tim nods in agreement, happy that she’s realising she deserves to be treated better. The look between them doesn’t falter for a second, a depth to their stare that says more than words ever could. Both of them gulp in anticipation, not quite knowing what feeling is lingering in the air.

“Assault Suspect heading on foot towards Brook street, white male, black suit, suspect is armed” Lucy and Tim are brought out of their haze by the sound of the radio. Tim knows immediately that they’re close to Brook street, he saw it just before he parked the shop. And he now knows that whatever moment he and Lucy were just having, is very much over. “7 Adam 19, pursuing suspect on Brook street”

Later on at the station

Angela walks up to Tim, a determined stride in her step, and a mischievous glance on her face. Oh no, the last time Angela had this look on her face, she’d told him to fire her maid of honour, what could she possibly have in mind now ? “What’s happening?” Tim asks warily, failing to hide the humour in his words. Angela smirks at him and wiggles her eyebrows “Timothy, I have a task for you” Tim’s eyes narrow, the teasing tone and full name that she uses, causing him uneasiness; and Angela knows it. “Spit it out”

“I need you to be the chauffeur for a girls night tonight.”

“What ?! No! The game is on tonight, why can’t Wesley ?” He looks away in exasperation, hands thrown up either side of him. Angela sighs impatiently, she hasn’t got time to lay all the groundwork out for him, and tell him all about Wesley’s new case that’s been keeping him late at work; she’s supposed to be in a meeting right now, so she uses the only card that she knows will undoubtedly work “it’s for Lucy”. Tim’s head snaps her way with force, an intrigued expression now replacing his previous exasperated one.

“What is it ?” Angela smiles in victory “wellll, I noticed Lucys been a bit down today, so Nyla and I decided that we’re taking her out tonight. And you are going to happily take us and pick us up so we can all have a nice drink.” Her eyebrows begin to raise again, arms crossing in defiance, there’s no way Tim is getting away with a ‘no’ on this one. He sighs in defeat, puffs of air releasing through his lips “Fine, what time ?”

At the bar

Angela, Nyla and Lucy sit close around the table at the bar. They arrived almost two hours ago and Lucy has had the absolute pleasure of ranting all about her problems, with Angela and Nyla backing her up and listening intently to everything she said. They were right- she needed this. Nyla raises her glass of water, a smile on her face and a relaxed, peppy air about her. “Here’s to living our lives by our own choices, and not giving a fuck about what anyone thinks of it.” “Damn right” Lucy and Angela comment in unison. A look of recognition crosses Nyla’s features and she re raises her glass, both Angela and Lucy looking on confused. “And here’s to Tim Bradford for forgetting that I’m pregnant, so could have easily been the designated driver tonight.” Laughter erupts from the table in a ferocious parade, onlookers smiling at the joy of the clearly close friends.

“Okay, I’m gonna have to run to the bathroom because this baby is jumping on my bladder like nobody’s business” Nyla gets up from the table , a quick skip In her step, and Angela takes the private moment to ask Lucy something that has been on her mind. “So, how’s things with you and Chris?” Lucy looks up, eyes particularly bugged out for the casual nature of the question, which doesn’t go unseen by Angela. “Oh? Erm, yeah, things are fine-great, yeah, we’re good” Angela’s left eyebrow arches at the fumbling of Lucy’s words. She asked this question for a reason; she knows Lucy isn’t happy with Chris, she’s aware she’s settling because she thinks she can’t have what she really wants- Tim. But she knows Tim Bradford, and Tim Bradford wants Lucy Chen. She’s so desperate for those two idiots to figure it out, so she prods her more.

“You don’t seem too confident in that answer” By now, Lucy’s had a few drinks, and her usual barrier she puts up of hiding feelings for Tim, was getting weaker by the second. “Mmmm, I mean, Chris is a nice boyfriend, but I’m just not sure he’s great for me” Lucy winces and drops her head into her hands, instantly regretting revealing such things when she hasn’t even said them out loud to herself yet. Angela rests a comforting hand upon Lucy’s forearm, and pulls her hands away from her eyes, getting her to look at her own. “Look, I know it’s not exactly my business, but nobody in the history of time has ever referred to their boyfriend as ‘nice’ when things were going great. It’s easy to settle when you think you don’t have a chance at what you really want, but If I were you, I wouldn’t give up so quick.”

Lucy’s brows scrunch in bewilderment. Angela hit the nail on the head with everything she said; maybe a little too much- what does she know ? Have a chance at what she really wants? What would make her say that with the little information she gave her about Chris?. Her mind begins to turn foggy, and before either of them can think through the question anymore, the alcohol hits them and the only thing they want to do is dance.

“Nyla !! Come over here ! We’re dancingggg” Nyla lifts her head on the way back from the bathroom, chuckling at the state of her two friends. “I can see that” Lucy’s smile is bright and she appears to be much more carefree than she was this morning. Nyla can’t help but give in to temptation and join them both on the floor, each of them being spun around by the other, drunken and sober giggles flying through the air. This is definitely what was needed, Angela and Nyla included. Angela has been feeling the stress of being detective pretty hard lately, and Nyla has been dwelling constantly on the baby and if either of them will be safe; a night with their girls is just what the doctor ordered.

3 hours later, Nyla calls Tim and asks him to come and pick Lucy up. Already getting in his car, he puts his phone on speaker and tells her he’ll be there soon. “I thought you and Angela needed a ride too.”

“Yeah, we did, but Wesley’s just got out of work and said he’d pick Angela up, and I’m going too because my place is closest to theirs” she peers to her side at Angela, face questioning wether she had sufficiently excelled in the task. Angela bobs her head rapidly, eyes scanning the room to see if Lucy had returned from the bar yet, cautious of getting caught. The thing is, Wesley wasn’t working late tonight, and she had known that from the beginning, but Angela had plans of her own, and that included getting Tim and Lucy to open up about their feelings; she just decided to give them a little nudge.

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll be about 5 minutes” “okay cool, bye.” Nyla turned to Angela, a humorous smirk etched upon her lips “you’re a menace” Angela laughs and pushes Nyla’s arm with a playful shove “a super smart menace”.

“Who’s a super smart menace?” Lucy questions, clearly her trip to the bar had been a short lived one. But In Angela and Nyla’s luck, she was much too inebriated to notice the deer in headlights expression that was notched into their faces. “Oh, nothing, just someone in a case we worked on last week” Angela sends a promising smile to Nyla, eyes seeking the appraisal for her lie that her drunk self wanted. Nyla nods towards her with an over exaggerated smile and thumbs up, her demeanour taking that of a Mother who’s child had just gone potty for the first time.

Nyla’s phone buzzes, gaze averting from Angela and Lucy, who are currently wobbling, leaning on each other for support- yeah, it was time to head home. Thankfully, Tim and Wesley had arrived at pretty much the same time, so the women parted ways safely and made their way home.

Tim grabbed into Lucy’s waist and reached his hand out for hers when she stumbled on her own feet. “How much did you have to drink?” Lucy giggled troublesomely, her hiccups giving away that the number of drinks she had was worryingly high. Tim sends her an amused smile, mind feeling slightly more at ease to know that he’s with her whilst she’s like this. “Okay, let’s get you in the truck” he utters it so adoringly that drunk Lucy can’t help but tear up. “Thank you for picking me up Tim, I know the game was on *hiccup* tonight”.

As Tim puts Lucy’s seatbelt over her and clips it into the holder, his mind runs wild with how she knows that the game was on tonight. He didn’t tell her, and she doesn’t follow football, so how could she have possibly known that ? Curiosity usually doesn’t get the best of him, he’s usually one to not care why people say what they say, but this- he must know. “How did you know the game was on tonight?” His voice has heightened in curiosity, hands still rested safely on the seatbelt, but as he looks to Lucy for an answer, he is met with her angelic-like state of sleep. In theory, you’d think that tussled hair, open mouth and slight snoring wouldn’t be that cute, but to Tim, she looked perfect.

Shaking his head of the thoughts a man in a relationship shouldn’t be having, he gently closes Lucy’s side of the truck and hops into the drivers seat, making his way to Lucy’s apartment, his eyes glancing over to her every once in a while to check she’s okay.

As Tim parks outside of Lucy’s building, he softly whispers her name and rubs her arm up and down to wake her. No response. “Lucy” this time, he gets a reaction; she begins to mumble and curls herself up to the window of the truck. It’s clear to Tim that she’s not going to wake up, which leaves only one option- he’s going to have to carry her.

Opening Lucy’s door, he carefully unfastens her seatbelt so he doesn’t wake her in the process, and places an arm underneath her thighs, other arm wrapping around her waist. Tim lifts her with no struggle out of the car, and repositions her over his shoulder so that he has a hand free to open the door to the building and her apartment. The elevator was luckily empty due to the time, and Tim was able to comfortably stand in the middle with Lucy sprawled over his shoulder.

As he unlocks the keys to her door, he begins to notice her stirring in her sleep, alerting him that she’s probably going to wake up sooner rather than later. He closes the door and paces his way slowly over to her colourful sofa, laying her down lightly upon the pillows. He crouches down and watches as her eyes stir, leisurely blinking to adjust to the brightness in the room. “Hmmm” Lucy’s gaze sets upon Tim, her drunken state smiling at him, rather than questioning how she got upstairs.

“Hey sleeping beauty” he teases with a smirk, laughing at the irritated glare she’s directing towards her table lamp. “Guessing you had a good night” Lucy breathes out slowly, moving her body so that she’s sat up facing him. “Can I have please water some ?” Tim raises his eyebrows in amusement; he’s never seen drunk Lucy before, he’s seen her slightly tipsy but this is another level, and he’s not going to deny that it’s the best thing he’s seen all week. “I’ll go and get you some water now”. Tim stands from his position and strides towards Lucy’s cupboards, reaching for a glass and filling it up with some cold water.

“Tim?” He hums in response, eyes still watching the water filling the glass. Lucy is looking over at him, her chin placed comfortably on the back of the sofa, eyes inquisitive. “How do you know if you’re settling for someone ?” Tim freezes to his spot, turning off the tap quickly as the glass overfills due to his surprise. “Erm, I don’t know” he thinks for a second of how to answer her question, but once he realised she probably won’t remember tomorrow, he begins to answer her. “I suppose you’re never really at your full happiness with the person, because there’s a part of you that doesn’t actually want them. I guess you just feel a little empty at times when you’re around them” as Tim unload his thoughts, he realises that he may have just said something that he needed to hear himself, but it’s 1:30 in the morning and he’s not about to delve down that hole.

“Why do you ask?” He walks towards her and hands her the glass of water, their fingers grazing across each other and sending sparks of electric through their bodies.

Lucy looks at Tim with a thoughtful leer, head spinning trying to come up with the words her brain wants her to say. “Mhnnnm, I’m not sure I like him- Chris, I’m not sure if I have proper feelings for *hiccup* him.” Tim opens his mouth in shock, eyes bulged and heart rate increasing with hope; he thought she was happy with Chris, but knowing that that might not be the case, he feels himself feeling lighter for the first time in weeks. “I bet you’re a great boyfriend, Ashley’s veryyyy lucky” Tim smiles in disbelief, worrying he’s imagining this in his head, so he says the only thing that he can think to say “thank you, Chris is very lucky too.”

“What do you think of him ?” Lucy questions, eyes scanning Tim’s face for any tells. “I uh- he’s nice” Lucy chuckles and recalls earlier on that day “Angela said that saying that is usually not a good thing” he’s stuck for words now, because Angela’s right, he didn’t mean “nice” in a good way, what he meant to say was ‘he’s definitely not good enough for you’, but now was not the time nor the place for it. “Yeah, well Angela says a lot of things” he brushes off Lucy’s question and tries to divert her attention elsewhere “drink your water”. As she takes a sip, her eyes become heavy with sleep, her bed calling her loudly. “I’m going to sleep”

Tim catches her as her head lulls to one side glass caught in his other before it can shatter to the floor. “Okay, just drink this and then you can go to sleep”

“Ughhh, Tim, I just wanna sleeeeep” he chuckles once again, debating wether or not he should film this so he can tease her about it at work; the look on her face would be a sight to see, but he decides against it as she begins to cry. “ I just- I just wish love was easier. Like- I wish I just felt at one with Chris, I wish it was easy and I wish I *hiccup* could just be myself- like it is with me and you.” Tim’s eyes glaze over and he can’t help but brush a tear from Lucy’s cheek, the need to envelop her growing stronger by the second. His brain short circuits at the declaration of her words. ‘Like it is with me and you?’ Is she saying she has feelings for him, or is she just stating that it’s easy with him, no romantic implication behind it ? It’s safe to say that she’s caused his mind to race wildly tonight.

“Lucy-“ “I’m tired, can I sleep now?” Tim halts in the middle of his sentence, coming to the conclusion that he probably shouldn’t read too much into anything she’s said, because she’s not in the right state of mind. He peers over to her glass of water, satisfied that she’s drank enough and nods softly, helping her into her room. The question of how to get her into more comfortable clothes becomes intelligible, he can’t get her dressed himself so the only option is to turn around whilst she dresses herself and hope that she doesn’t tumble and injure herself.

As if Lucy had read his thoughts, she tilts her head up at Tim and states that she’s too tired to get changed, and is just going to sleep in the clothes she already has on. Tim nods and follows her to the bed, laying her down gently and putting her in the recovery position. His head may be swirling, but nothing could ever stop him from making sure she’s safe. As she gets comfortable, he brings the remaining water and some Advil and tells her to take two so that her hangover isn’t too bad in the morning. Lucy’s heart warms at the sight of him taking care of her; this is what it’s supposed to feel like, she thinks to herself. She swallows the Advil down and puts herself back into the position that Tim had previously put her in.

With a tired yawn and sniffle, she cracks an eye open to gain Tim’s attention and sends him an adoring smile. “Thank you again, for bringing me home, and for taking care of me”

“No problem Lucy, I’m here whenever you need me” the sincerity in his voice sets a calm over the room, and Lucy nuzzles her head into her pillow, nose scrunching when the material tickles her. “I’ll see you at work” he places a friendly hand upon her shoulder, but as he looks at her, cuddled up in bed, hair falling into the pillows, he can’t help but to brush a strand behind her ear. He turns towards the door and tiptoes gently so he doesn’t wake her up; then he remembers ‘I know the game was on tonight’- he never did find out how she knew, so he took a chance, whispering out the question once again, expecting no response from the half asleep woman in bed. “How did you know the game was on tonight ?” When he gets no reply after 5 seconds, he continues to walk out of the room, preparing himself to take his trip back home. But then it comes.

“Because…it’s you”

[riaaanna]

Queen Fanclub Convention 2023 Part 6: Greg Brooks (with Q&A re: Sotheby's)

📸 Ian Knight

I feel like I had to put that in the title to get anyone to even read past the first two sentences. 😂 It's down there, in a bit...!

Now, if you've ever listened to any Queen demos circulating around Youtube, you would've undoubtedly heard the iconic "Property of Queen Productions" watermarked across the audio. That would be the voice of Greg Brooks, Queen's official archivist.

Those rarity gems have been part of my journey in the Queen fandom since late 2018 so it was so surreal to be sitting in the room I've always imagined to be able to sit in and hear these demo recordings directly. (Although ngl, I always thought he'd be watermarking it live into a mic, but no such scene happened unfortunately lol). When the first "Property of Queen Productions" played in the room everyone cheered like greeting an old friend, which was so amusing.

Anyway no you're not going to hear those demos here, duh (but like y'know) so instead I will only list which ones were played:

Flick of the Wrist

Great King Rat (Take 1)

Nevermore

Nevermore (Take 5)

March of the Black Queen (Take 3-5)

Brighton Rock

I Go Crazy

Jealousy

Tie Your Mother Down (Brian's guide vocal)

After consulting with friends with more expertise in this I found out these aren't new and have been played at some point in the previous conventions. There are sites with a good list of these so you can probably look them up (and if you're looking at demos, beware of fake ones cause there are a lot out there!). Nevertheless it was a great experience to listen to them!

Aside from that he also brought some merchandise which are sold for MPT. The first being a Queen vinyl box - leftovers from the archives (on the left 📸 Ian Knight) and the second being this genius pun on a mug which I bought... Proper Tea of Queen Productions!

Greg took some questions between the demos and here is a transcript under the cut. A bulk of these talked about the extent of the lots auctioned at Sotheby's which he got to see as Queen's archivist, and there's some insight to Queen Productions Ltd (QPL)'s extent of "involvement" with the auction. I asked a question about it myself and I was happy with how much he was able to reveal.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so there are parts that I marked as "indistinct" and the accuracy may not be 100%. This wouldn't be their fault for not pronouncing it clearly, it would be mine for not catching it properly. There are parts I omitted related to the demos cause they wouldn't make sense without listening to them anyway.

Jim Jenkins (J): Okay everybody! Right, this gentleman does not need any introduction. He’s Queen's archivist, he gets involved in everything to do with Queen and he's just done a big job at Sotheby’s. Queen's productions did get involved in Sotheby’s, people think not, but they did. Greg did a stellar work down at the auction house. So, he's going to play us some musical treats, let's bring him on, Greg Brooks! (applause)

Property of Queen Productions!

Greg Brooks (G): Hello everyone! Everything good? Right, I can tell you a few bits, I'll answer some questions and I can play some bits. I've bought mainly rarity outtakes, so from the original sessions, and the way that I've ordered them is starting for the first album, all the way up to, I think, The Game. I'll just play you a few things, I might ask you here and there which one you'd prefer to hear. But I'll start off with some early Queen, if that's alright with you guys. Good! And then, um...

Greg on audio: Property of Queen Productions.

Audience: (big cheers)

G: Oh, I started early there, sorry. (laughter) I wonder where that was coming from, sounded vaguely familiar. I'll start off with this, I'll play a few and I'll answer questions if you want, or I'll play a rarity if you prefer. Got that? Yeah. Okay, let me know if it's not loud enough, just by doing that (gestures hand pointing up) they'll know. So here we go then, I won't announce what it is, but I will tell you, these are all early backing tracks, early run-throughs, the whole band playing live in the studio, but invariably with no vocals. Sometimes there's a guide vocal, okay?

(Demo tape playing)

I was just thinking how nice it is after all this publicity with Sotheby's and Freddie's entire life being sold… it's nice to go back to the important stuff and just hear the music here, isn't it? (applause)

This is what it's all about, isn't it? All that stuff aside, all those possessions, the music and the voice. So, we'll carry on.

(Demo tape playing)

So, we have to mention the dreaded Sotheby's thing, or some people think it's dreaded. How many people managed to get a look? Quite a lot of people. The lyrics, I think, were fantastic. Did you see them all? Yeah. I mean, some of the Queen II stuff was mind-blowing, all those alternative lyrics. Anyway, we’ll carry on.

(Demo tape playing)

(indistinct) He was asking me is that – did they usually put the music down first? They always record the backing track first, they always get that rhythm track which we've been told many times, Brian and Roger always said that Freddie, John, Rog do the backing track and in that case because it's Fred's song he's directing from the piano you can even count in and you know he would be saying, you know, directing really and... because it's his song, in other songs it would be whoever's song it is. Invariably though Freddie directs from the piano and then they'll, Brian will come in and put his guitar and then the last thing will be – even the backing vocals go before the lead vocal so you can hear it, as you hear this stuff you can visualize what's going on.

So we thought we'd stop just for five just in case there’s any questions, I'm happy to take questions.

Question 1: Hi, Greg. I just want to say, so this would’ve been 50 years of the original album, have you suggested or proposed anything to celebrate it at all to the band?

G: Yes, we all – did you hear the question everyone? You need a bit more volume, or you alright? Turn up a bit there guys, if it's alright.

Because it's 50 years of Queen I, yes, some years ago it would have –  it's always about two or three years in advance. We got proposals to the band and the record company and we would have proposed something for Queen I but there isn't anything in the pipeline for the debut album. There's all kinds of discussions about all kinds of products but because of so much stuff going on in the last couple of years, I think the band just decided this year there wouldn't be a major product, as I understand it, and the record label.

So no, there isn't anything in the pipeline for this year, though there are, as there always are, some great things being discussed, some of them look quite certain to me that they're going to happen and they're really exciting, and I mean that.

So you know by that, I'm not talking about having random products, I'm talking about proper Queen. (audience cheers, possible implication that he referred to QAL products) No sniggering! (chuckles) When I talk about Queen I mean, well I regard as the Freddie and John years. So honestly, there's some great stuff in the pipeline and it will soon come around because we've done a lot of research and I'll continue for about three separate products and I have no idea which will come first.

Question 2 (me!): I want to ask more about the auction. Is that OK? I just want to ask, first, how did the communications between Queen Productions and the, I don’t know, Mary or the auction house come about? And second, if you're allowed to tell us if the band is getting anything. Thank you.

G: Well I got the gist.

Q2: Oh, sorry… (apologizing for my bad English or pronunciation, whatever…)

G: I wasn't, on my level as they say, I wasn't privy to anything that was happening on the top level. I was only interested in going along and seeing all the lyrics and the costumes just to see the extent of it. I think – I think, the band stayed out a bit more or less. It was really between Mary and the Sotheby's. I don't know a lot about that. All I know is, you know, it was a good idea for me as the archivist to know the full extent of all the lyrics.

And evidently Freddie kept the lyrics of everything he ever wrote, ever. So for those of you that went to Sotheby's you saw probably five percent of the lyrics. There was something like, I think it was five, six hundred sheets of paper and lots and lots of unreleased songs, unpublished songs, pre-Queen going right the way back to the mid-60s.

And everything he ever wrote for Queen, including many unpublished songs. I saw lyrics for songs that I had not even heard audio outtakes for. So whether he made demos at home, which aren't in the archive, I think that's plausible. But as you know there wasn't any of that. In the auction there was no audio recordings, just lyrics.

But he wrote something like nine or ten sheets of paper for every song he wrote. So you saw for the Bohemian Rhapsody lyrics, they were 15 sheets. And for A Day at the Races, one of my favorite albums, there was 10 or 12 sheets for every song. So if you were lucky enough to purchase that Day at the Races lot, I think it was something like 80 sheets of paper.

(jokingly) I think you bought that, didn’t you Jim? (laughter) I'm not supposed to say that. You got somebody to bid for you for the crown and the cloak as well. (laughter) See we should all have worked for (indistinct) when we had the chance. (laughter)

Question 3: (indistinct, asks something about how the exhibition was because he didn’t go.)

J: You missed out, it was amazing. You could see the costumes, and the lyrics.

Q3: My Question is, I’ve never ever been at the auction, what was it like?

G: Okay, what was it like? (gestures to someone else)That gentleman there would like to ask a question in a minute. That dubious bloke. (laughter) I should be more specific.

To answer your question, if you didn't get to Sotheby's, it was then basically recreating Freddie's house in their main five rooms. And they did a phenomenally brilliant job. So, not that I've ever been to Garden Lodge, but it was as near as you could be to walking into Garden Lodge, lounge, kitchen, all of his furniture, everything really. From his artwork to his lyrics, his costume, the tea sets, the teapots, the tablecloths, the chairs, the wardrobes, everything was there. And it was very evident what impeccable taste he had. And so you walk through and everything on display was extremely beautiful.

And it was very impressive and quite moving, you know, because if you could deal with the fact that you felt like you were intruding in somebody's personal space, which I felt it was a bit, should I really be here? Would he want people in? I don't know, not my call. But since it was public, I went a few times and just took it all in because it was so incredible. Does that answer your Question?

And sorry, just to add to that, the lyrics I asked to see on my own, because I knew that was going to be emotional, so I set myself down in the back room and went through all these lyrics. And for especially Queen II, all the lyrics that he wrote that he didn't use. So he was writing down “Oberon and Titania” and all those things he used. And then on another page was equally brilliant stuff that he didn't use. I took Jim, we sat and looked, didn't we, Jim? And it does bring a lump to your throat. You can't talk while you're looking because you realize you're looking at this man effectively working to perfect that song, you know, and he's working, working, working, working, and he's made every conceivable note you could make before he chooses the words that we all now know. It's really impressive, wasn't it, Jim?

J: Extremely. It was emotional.

G: Yeah. We all think Freddie is a genius, and I know that word is bandied about. I always knew he was a genius and a brilliant, brilliant musician. But the stuff he didn't use was as good, or better in some cases, than the words he did use. Anyway, next question.

Question 4: What's going on Greg? With the rise of AI, and John and Ringo (indistinct) the new Beatles music, will that open up the archives on lesser quality recordings to be reassessed by that?

G: Well, that's a very interesting question. I'm surprised you came up with that. (laughter) I always give him a hard time, I don't even know why, it's just because it's fun. (laughter) And he’s got, he takes it in good spirit. No, it's a good question, I thought about this AI, everybody knows what this AI is capable of now. We hear the Beatles and Freddie singing “The Long and Winding Road” and so on. (indistinct) (laughter)

As I was saying. What was I saying? Oh, there you are. You can hear Freddie singing “The Long and Winding Road”. And some of it is very convincing. You think, Christ, did he record that, really? And then you hear a dodgy bit, and you go, oh no, it's not. But it's only going to improve, isn't it? So there is going to come a time when you choose your artist, and you choose your song, and you want Freddie to sing an Elvis song, or Elvis to sing Somebody to Love, and it will be possible.

But I can only imagine where it's going when you think how brilliant it is at the moment. And it did occur to me the other day that if you can feed in all of Freddie's songs, all the backing tracks, sorry, just the vocal tracks without the music, you could effectively have him singing anything. And then I thought, if you ingest it into a computer, all the interviews he ever did, I wonder if it's conceivable for him to read his own book, which was (indistinct). That would be good, wouldn't it? You can have him reading anything, because it would sound like the real Freddie reading The War of the Worlds by H .G. Wells, or whatever. The possibilities are really endless, so I don't know where it's going.

But it's worrying, really, because next year I could be here playing Freddie singing The Best of Elvis, and it would sound very convincing. Okay, any more questions, or shall I crack on?

Question 5: While you were looking at the stuff at Sotheby's, did you think (indistinct) regarding to I Want it All (Greg’s upcoming book on Queen memorabilia collection), or have you got the stuff you now can add to it?

G: Well, the lyrics, for example, the thing that interests me most… There are lyrics in the I Want it All book, but I didn’t want to fill it – because it's not a lyrics book, so I thought what I'd do, I'd do it once and do it properly. So the album for which we have handwritten lyrics for every single song is The Works. And we also have lyrics for the B-side of Ga Ga, I Go Crazy, as well as Let Me in Your Heart Again. So there's a four-page pullout in the book showing all the lyrics for that album, that’s 12 sheets.

There's a couple of more elsewhere… but to answer your question, you would think that you would want all of the Somebody's Love and Champions and Bo Rhap lyrics in the book like I'm doing, but it would just be too much, so probably down the line there is a book there, obviously, whether it would be our book or Mary's book, who knows, but um… it would be nice to have some of the costumes featured, and I think when we come to do the live (I Want it All) book, volume 2, I'll look into that, because some of those beautiful early costumes would be a wonderful four-page, wouldn’t they, in a book.

So the short answer is yes, we will endeavour to show you all that stuff when we can in the coming years, you know, it'd be great, but at the moment it's too soon into the auction, after the auction.

Question 6: Yeah, just while we're talking about the audio lyrics and things, do you actually have the copy of the lyrics for the archive now or is that kind of lost into whoever bought the lyrics?

G: Um, good question again, I don't know how to answer that. (laughter) (indistinct, laughter)

I would think at some point in the future we will see the lyrics. I think one way or the other that they'll be seen. Yeah, because it would have been too upsetting to think that they've all gone to the corners of the earth never to be seen again. That is unlikely.

Question 7: Hi Greg, and one of the things we noticed, because we got pushed around the auction really quickly…

G: Did you?

Q7: Oh, like, people were like, move on, people can’t see, keep walking, so...

G: Did you go out and... Come back in again, though? You can do that.

Q7: No, we already queued. But one of the things we noticed is that on one of the Queen things they had was “Feel the Force”? And we were like, “is there a Freddie version of that that exists?”

G: Not that I can remember.

Q7: Yeah, it was really obscure on a track list, of all the things and then there was “Feel the Force”…?

G: It did occur to me that it must be the case that he had, in his archive, and still does, recordings of songs that we don't have in it, the Queen Archive. And I guess that's probably true of Brian, Roger and John that had their own home recordings. So it's conceivable that that track, for example, but we don't have it that I'm aware of.

But as I said, just to recap, there are lyrics for songs that he wrote that we do not have in the archive. So he must have the recordings, or she must.

Yep, okay Right, I'll play a bit of…

(Demo tape playing)

G: One thing – this “Property of Queen Productions”, quite irritating whoever it is that says that all the way through… (laughter) Just for those who don’t know, that was the band who insisted that we did that, so it would keep from these things from getting ripped off.

(Note: Greg is now promoting the merchandise he brought. I omitted this.)

(Demo tape playing)

J: Okay, ladies and gentlemen, Greg Brooks!

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

I would like to seek your opinion on this: Do you think there’s possibility that Aemond, the show version, would stray and have an affair with Alys if he already married and have a fairly loving and functional relationship back home with his wife?

It’s alil hard for me to imagine while reading fanfics that the ever dutiful prince from the show would seek another woman’s embrace if he’s already married with love and bound by his wedding oath, let alone doing that makes him no different than Aegon, the brother he so despises. Even in the book, without mentioning the trait of responsibility and being dutiful, the complete psychopath Aemond, probably doesn’t take his half assed betrothal to heart as he takes Alys to bed, calls her “my lady”, since they are in the middle of war, every thing subjects to change and there’s no follow up on the mere verbal pact with Borros Baratheon.

I think I just find it difficult to believe Aemond, both the show version and the book version, would commit adultery if he properly married and his emotional needs are met somehow. Yeah I know it’s common for medieval men to have paramours but still 😂

This is a tricky question; we have so little of adult Aemond to go on from the show. There are parallels drawn between the show's depiction of his character and what's presented in the books, however. Aemond is duty bound, utterly devoted to his family and willing to do anything to ensure it's one of his mother's children that sits the Iron Throne.

Would Aemond look for sexual gratification outside of his marriage, if he was in love and happy with the match, just for the sake of it? Absolutely not.

Would he do it if he believed the person could be beneficial in securing the Greens' claim to the Iron Throne? Yes. That's end game for him, and supersedes any potential hurt feelings that may arise as a result of it.

Aemond royally fucks up his betrothal to Floris in both the book and the show by killing Lucerys. He never returns to Storm's End following that, and never sees Floris again. Aemond is a kinslayer, he's cursed in the eyes of the Seven. His killing of his nephew is not just a devastating blow for the Greens because it sparks all out war from the Blacks, but it also writes him off as being able to be used as a pawn to get noble houses on side, as no highborn lord would ever willingly marry their daughter to a kinslayer. He's rendered himself useless in a political regard.

For all intents and purposes, he's single when he meets Alys, and is utterly devoted to her and her alone when they do become romantically involved.

The short answer is no, Aemond wouldn't cheat, not unless he felt he had to.

[pikahlua]

Hi!

Kacchan and winning are deeply connected, and we all saw how he reacted to losing at the start of the story 😅

So, assuming there's going to be another sports festival or something (or any type of fight that's a bit low stakes, without the world ending) if, hypothetically, loses, against Deku or Todoroki (because let's be honest, anyone else coming close to defeating him isn't possible) how is he going to react, since he's a bit more mature now? Will he cry about it 😂 (affectionate)

Also, I just read Dragonheart and it's awesome. The imagery, the parallels and the characterization 👏🏼

I (lovingly) reject the premise of the question 😛

You and pretty much everyone else, through no faults of your own, have not read my extremely strong opinions about the sports festival because I...still haven't written them. That's on me. And I think it's entirely fair that you'd like to consider a what-if about the future regarding the sports festival/low-stakes competition and life after the main MHA story. It's just that my answer to the question may seem way too pedantic and serious for what really is a light-hearted question.

BUT, I AM ME, AND SO WE'RE DOING THIS.

First of all, here are my pertinent doubts:

Will the sports festival even exist in the future? Will UA and hero schools exist in the future? Will competitions soon veer away from comparing quirks back to comparing individual athletic ability and achievement? All of these things seem like distinct possibilities.

Does Izuku even end up with One For All at the end of this? Does Katsuki still have Explosion after the end? I hate to bring up the possibilities here, but I regret to inform you that they do exist.

Assuming UA does persist and we get let's say a sports festival, I'm sorry if this starts some shit but: Shouto doesn't stand a chance against Katsuki. I don't mean this derisively, but as I think about the narrative as it presents the relationship between Shouto and victory versus Katsuki and victory, Shouto very clearly always was meant for a different direction than exploring "victory" as a theme. Such low-stakes "victories" do very little to advance Shouto towards his goal of becoming a hero who puts others at ease. His truly important "victories" and "losses" really just serve the purpose of showing him the ways he should try to improve and develop. In many instances, "victory" would have actually hurt his character rather than help him. The competitive spirit and drive to improve will always be important parts of Shouto's character, but what he wants ultimately diverges from straightforward competition, and that's a weakness (in the sense of plot armor) when fighting Katsuki.

Building off of that, we must consider the narrative purpose of these so-called "low-stakes" fights. The stakes are determined by the story, and they are only low-stakes in the sense that no one's lives are on the line, but MHA always finds a way to hype up the stakes of these competitions. I bring up the narrative so often because I think that was a big piece of the sports festival that flew over many people's heads. The sports festival was never about determining who was the strongest--it was always about subverting that trope. We come away from the first sports festival unable to properly call any among Izuku, Katsuki, or Shouto the strongest, and that's on purpose. Indeed, all of these competitions in MHA come with a twist that results in how "finding out who is strongest" is truly a useless concept. And that brings me to Katsuki.

Katsuki's entire character revolves around the idea that this "complete, perfect victory" as he originally thought of it was the wrong thing to pursue. He could win a tournament or achieve the highest grade by himself and still it would not bring him satisfaction, but such arbitrary things don't prove much of anything in the end and don't get him anywhere closer to his goals. Though he is presented as a great obstacle for all the other characters and an opportunity for everyone else to face him and grow as a result, Katsuki himself is constantly denied the chance to achieve solo victory in one form or another.

So I have very strong opinions about this idea of Katsuki winning or losing a low-stakes competition with no nuance because I think such a straightforward situation would never happen. It is as you say: he's "a bit more mature now," which I take to mean that he's done seeking those meaningless solo victories he started out craving. Katsuki's relationship with "victory" has changed into something completely different now, and so I make the following claim:

What would Katsuki do if he loses a low-stakes match in the future? Simple. Even if he loses, he doesn't actually lose. I imagine that in any situation where Katsuki appears to "lose," it would ultimately serve some better purpose.

Katsuki is a lot more subtle than many people give him credit for. He helps things to happen from a distant vantage point such that people get to feel the results of their achievements without realizing Katsuki ever had any involvement. Take the cultural festival: he only brings to light the important obstacles that their class needs to overcome (the general studies students' attitudes) and pledges to contribute to the event as a supporter for the right cause. He inspires the class, but he doesn't do all the work for them. He directs them down the best path, and everyone gets to feel the satisfaction of their ultimate achievements as a group.

So if Katsuki were to lose in a competition, I think it would be in a way that's still somehow all according to Katsuki's plan. And if losing is his plan, then...he wins. He gets what he wants. And that thing he wants can only be more important than merely winning an empty match. It's like how Izuku wins by losing against Shouto in the sports festival. Katsuki has been observing Izuku for that very talent and has learned to emulate it in his own way.

So Katsuki's reaction to "a loss" in competition would be entirely controlled and in service of achieving his goals, even if that "reaction" is just him pretending to be mad about it.

tl;dr Katsuki Bakugou always wins

P.S. Oh god people actually read Dragonheart? [cries in cat memes]

[thelikesoffinn]

hey! You said you'd be answering questions if we've got any and I've got one!

I'm replaying act 1 right now and I noticed that with other characters if they tell u their big secrets and u take it well it will give u a lot of points. But astarions points are a lot less.

Shadowheart before: 8 Pt

Shadowheart after telling me she's a sharran: 33 pt

Astarion before: 10 pt

Astarion after the bite scene: 26 pt

Do u know why that is?

Hello flower! How interesting, I didn't know that was the case!

(Albeit that is likely because I'm on playthrough five and by now, I simply don't check the affection thingy anymore. They're all lonely and love starved, we'll be fine 😂)

Anyway, it's a bit difficult to gage why that could be, because it's so closely tied to game mechanics; meaning it could be for a Multitude of reasons, many of them to do with gameplay itself.

But if we roll with it and assume that it is because it's Astarion, this could likely be tied to his attitude towards "receiving help and kindness".

The thing is: Astarion hasn't received kindness in a very long time. What little he did receive (or give) came at a high cost. He was always expected to give more than he received.

Best example:

Cazador saved his life and now Astarion would be forced to live as his slave for eternity.

Quite the price tag to stick onto an "act of kindness".

So maybe he's more hesitant to trust Tav's attitude and generosity. Everybody always expects him to pay it back somehow, so why would Tav be different? And what possibly would they want? It had to be a lot. They've given him blood, kept him alive. That sounds like a huge thing, and huge things come at even higher a cost.

Your example used Shadowheart as a comparison, which is perfect because those two are really different characters from head to toe.

In the end, act 1 Shadowheart is a lot tougher than Astarion. She doesn't really give a shit if you agree with her religion or not, but she wants to get along still because she does like Tav and they have a common goal. That (and her teachings) is essentially what makes her hesitant to tell Tav about her worshipping Shar.

So if you react properly - i.e. without judgement or hatred or you're even outright positive - she really doesn't have a huge reason not to believe you. Sharran's may be hated and feared, but she probably hasn't been fooled by others who said "sharran? Okidokes, no problemo, lady!" and then tried to murder her in her sleep or anything. Shadowheart is likely more used to outward and direct antipathy, which is likely why she bristles so easily when tested.

And seeing you accept her for who she is will obviously give you a huge chunk of her affection. (Duh, who doesn't like being accepted!)

There we go, I hope that explains it, flower! If not let me know and I'll try again!

[lemonluvgirl]

Gurl I think I know what I want to request if that’s ok 🥹 Have you ever written Katniss being whipped instead of Gale? If you have, please ignore this and kindly send me the link. 😂

If not, I’d love to read your take on it. 😍 Thank you! (And if you don’t want to write the prompt that’s totally ok too!).

Hello dear! Sorry it took me so long to answer this one! But I wanted to wait until I had the time and energy to write it properly!

Hopefully you'll like what I've come up with!

I’m roused from the useless stupor I had fallen into by the sound of her voice, speaking quietly in the kitchen. 

I sit up, ramrod straight on her living room couch, ears straining to hear her again. None of the horrible things I had been feeling, all the dark thoughts that had been burrowing around in my brain, wrapping themselves around me, tighter and tighter and making me nearly incoherent with pent up worry, exhaustion, and anger, can hold onto me anymore. They slide away at the sound of her awake and still able to speak. 

For a long while there I really thought that the girl who had survived the death of her father, starvation, an unknown arena, fireballs and trackerjackers, the careers and the mutts and countless other dangers would finally be overcome by the furious whip of a new Head Peacekeeper. 

I really thought we were going to lose her, when Delly had dragged me to the square, whispering frantically, ‘they caught her, Peeta, it's really, really, bad! You have to come quick!’ 

I really thought I was going to follow her to the grave, shot dead by a squad of armed peacekeepers because when I saw the back of her shirt torn and hanging open, her hands chained to the post, her head lolling half consciously, and her naked back, mutilated and bloody, carved open by the whip, I thought I would kill the man who had done it to her, without any regrets. 

But thankfully Haymitch stepped in, and saved us both. But not before Thread nearly killed her, and I openly defied him when I jumped in front of the whip to take the thirteenth lash, right across my face. 

“Prim’s fine, your mother’s fine. Everyone is safe.” Gale’s voice floats over from the kitchen. Deep and even, like he’s trying his best to be calm and reassuring. 

“And Peeta?” Her voice cracks a little on my name. Everything inside me snaps to attention, and I’m halfway off the couch before I realize walking in on their private moment would be a really dick move right now. So I force myself to be still. 

Gale’s tone is low, with that same chest deep rumble that accompanies almost all his conversation, but his voice is still audible.

“He’s okay too.” It’s said without inflection, or emotion. Like he’s trying to be very matter-of-fact about it. I wonder if it pains him to be asked about me. I wonder if he understands that she asks from a place of reluctant friendship, and not-

“Where is he? Did—did they whip him? Arrest him?” My thoughts are interrupted by her erratic sounding questions. I think I half imagine the rising concern I hear in her voice, but then—

“No—well, just the once, but-” Gale starts to explain but she cuts him off, as if no longer listening. 

“Peeta?” Her voice is louder now, sharp, with a kind of panic that I’ve heard once before, in the arena. I can hear her clearly all the way in the living room. I imagine her turning her head frantically.

She sounds terrified, like when we split up to find food and both heard the sound of a cannon and thought the other had been killed. But really it was the red haired girl, the one who ate the poison berries by mistake, who had died. 

I’m halfway across the room in a heartbeat. Half panicked myself at the searching sound of her voice, and worried that she’ll hurt herself more if she distresses herself, and moves the wrong way. 

“Peeta!” She calls a second time, but I’m already by her side, my feet having made the decision while my brain was still processing why she was calling for me so desperately. 

Her face relaxes immediately, and the panic leaves her eyes. Up close she looks so small, and battered, laid out the smaller, and informal kitchen table way she is. Her feet just barely skim the edge of the table, and she has more than a foot of extra room on either side. But the space next to her is decidedly not as generous.

I’m practically side by side with Gale. Large man that he is, Gale has to shift to make room for me.

In the back of my head there’s a voice commenting on the tragic irony of it all. Me, displacing him because the bizarre and unpredictable circumstances of reapings have made me someone in her life, a strange kind of footnote, when really I never should have been a concern of hers at all. Him, giving way and making room, not because I’m anyone of real consequence, not when compared to him, but because he can’t bear to see her in any more pain or discomfort than she already is. 

Still, there is this moment where I matter enough for her to ask, and that alone is strangely comforting, and validating. Six months ago I probably wouldn’t have even been an errant thought in her mind. But jointly surviving a gladiatorial contest to the death, and then teaming up to deceive an entire nation with a made up love story does bring people together in strange and unpredictable ways. 

I know it won’t last long, this moment of fleeting concern. She’ll see I’m alive and she’ll settle down. She’ll ask for him again, or maybe she’ll just pass out. I’ll do the expected thing, the noble thing, and take my leave. The world will be right again. All of Gale’s fears and doubts will be soothed and forgotten. And I’ll be forgotten but that’s ok. Even if I’m left alone in my big cold, empty house, at least I’ll know she’s not alone. That someone who loves her is looking after her. 

“Shh, shh, Katniss. I’m ok. I’m alive. I’m right here.” The words tumble out, comforting and familiar, and second nature to me. It's exactly what I would have said if she were waking up from a particularly bad nightmare on the train. But this is no bad dream. Even though the deep, vicious stripes carved into the skin of her back could have been summoned out of my worst night terrors. 

Gale takes another, quick step away from us. It's reactive, like he’s stung by the familiarity, maybe even the intimacy in my tone. I feel a twinge of shame, and guilt for half a second before Katniss reclaims my full attention again. 

“Peeta.” She breathes my name in a whisper so full of relief that my heartbeat stutters irregularly in my chest, before settling back into a normal rhythm. I feel like I can breathe again, now that I can see her dark, silky eyelashes flutter against her olive cheeks with my own eyes, and hear the soft husky way she says my name with my own ears. She’s alive. She’s alive and she’s not locked up somewhere, or on a train to the Capitol right now. Something very wrong in my world has been set right, and an indescribably huge relief settles into my bones.

She lowers her head back down to rest against the dark grained wood of the table, and my fingers twitch, restless and automatically reaching for her, but I myself stop before they get too far.

It must be uncomfortable for her, lying on her front, I note distractedly.  She’s a side sleeper, and I wish I had thought to slip a towel or small pillow under her head when we were setting her down. Then I remind myself that it shouldn’t be my concern, her sleeping habits and her level of comfort. It's a vestige left over from the victory tour, the instinct to tend to her, see to her needs, to soothe with a touch or gesture. 

It feels wrong to think these things, to anticipate in my head what she would want or need, with Gale looking on. It’s not really my place, and now that the tour is over and we’re back to reality. I need to remember we’re just friends. At best. 

But then she goes and reaches for me all by herself, just stretches her hand in my direction like it's the most natural thing in the world. 

And again my body makes the decision for me before my brain can finish listing the repercussions this will cause. Because there’s no universe in which Katniss reaches for me and I don’t take her hand, regardless of any prevailing wisdom or propriety. 

“I thought I’d lose you for sure.” She whispers and I’m so stunned, all I can do is shake my head. She’s looking at me in a peculiar way. I wonder absently how much morphling they actually gave her. 

“No,” Is all I can think to say, gently, once I finally get a hold of my ability to speak. 

“You could have been killed. Stepping in like that.” She says, eyes locked on me, insistent, despite the odd angle of her looking up at me while lying stomach down on the table.

“I wasn’t. The only one who really got hurt was you.” I reply, disapproval bleeding through at the end, despite the knowledge that it would be disastrous to start an argument right now. 

And not just for her health. 

Something is happening right here, at this moment, something about the way she clutches my hand while she lies broken and bleeding on her kitchen table. Something oddly reminiscent of the way she had once looked at me when my fever was burning hot and furious inside my body when we were in the cave. 

A large part of me has been operating under the impression that that look I remembered was a hallucination on my part. A made up fever dream. Especially after the argument on the train tracks when we first came home. When she told me it was an act.

But now—now I can see it wasn’t just a wishful figment of my imagination. 

Katniss Everdeen really is looking at me right now like I’m something irreplaceable. Like I’m something she wants to protect. Something she couldn’t bear to lose. 

Which is ludicrous. Totally ridiculous. She’s probably high out of her mind. Driven nonsensical by pain and drugs.

But that look. And the way her lips are trembling.

“You’ve got to take better care of yourself.” She warns. 

I almost laugh. 

My world feels like it's been turned upside down again, just when I thought I had gotten it straightened out. There’s a riot inside of me. Inwardly I’m a frantic, hopeful, confused mess. But outwardly, I’m calm. 

“Look who’s talking.” I murmur, as I stroke her knuckle with my thumb. It’s almost absentminded but on some level I’m aware of it. I’m also aware of how inappropriate it is. But the need to comfort her is strong, so strong. I give her a reassuring smile. I remind myself she’s heavily medicated.

“You should rest.” I say, in as even a tone as I can manage, leaning in just a little to return her hand to the table. I’m not sure she should be stretching her arm out, or moving at all right now. I’m undoubtedly sure I shouldn’t be touching her like I’ve been, with her—whatever he is, in the room. 

But when I turn in Gale’s direction to get an accurate assessment of just how badly I’ve overstepped my bounds, and fucked everything up, Katniss’ voice overrides my surprise at seeing we’re alone in the kitchen now. 

“Peeta!” She says, in a very put out tone, but I’m still reeling over the fact that Gale had apparently left sometime while we were speaking before. I don’t know whether to feel relieved or guilty.

“Your face!” Katniss says, horrified, as she tilts her head up to get a better look at me. 

And I remember the sting of the whip. The white hot burn that split my skin in half a second. The  sure and unflinching hand of the new Head Peacekeeper. It had been dizzying, and disorienting. Not the worst pain I had ever felt, but overwhelming in its suddenness. 

Katniss had felt that pain 12 times across her back before Haymitch and I intervened. 

 It still hurts a bit, and my eye is almost swollen shut, but it's unbelievable that Kantiss is concerning herself with my scratch after she almost got whipped to death. 

“It’s nothing. Nothing at all. Your sister already treated it.” It's not really a lie, the snow Prim insisted I put on, did help.  “I’ll be fine. It's you who needs to rest now, Katniss.” I say, trying to infuse sternness into my voice. 

But she’s still looking at me with concern, and that concern is quickly morphing into an expression I recognize all too easily on her. Anger. 

“Thread whipped you 12 times before we could stop him. This,” I say pointing to my face, “is nothing Katniss. Barely a scratch compared to what you went through.” I tell her as I restrain her hand from trying to reach for my face, I fold her fingers inward and return them to the table, but cover them with my own hand. 

To keep her imobile, I tell myself. 

“You all need to go. Get out of here and far away from me.” She says in a plaintive, almost babbling voice. 

“Shh,” I murmur as I carefully stroke the hair away from the side of her face, when she begins to shake her head stubbornly. 

“Peeta, you’ll all be killed because of me.” She whispers, voice full of dread. 

“No one is going to die today Katniss. They’ve had their fill of blood. They won’t get another drop.” I vow. My tone sounds far more sure than I can realistically prove or promise.

 But in the back of my head, the rational part of my mind, that isn’t preoccupied with the need to get this girl comfortable and resting again, knows that the gamemakers in charge have filled their quota for violence, for now. 

Katniss seems to take my words at face value, and settles down a little. Or maybe she’s just exhausted.

Yet that part of me, the unapologetic strategist, starts turning the gears, and starts going over the scenarios as I watch her try to get comfortable again on the hard wood table. 

Internally I know the consequences this day will bring, for both us, and Snow, could be far reaching. Publicly whipping your victors in the town square, while it may be a power move, it will not be a popular one. Here in District 12 or in the Capitol. Public sentiment still counts for something even in our totalitarian society. And that could be used to our advantage. It could be used to keep her alive. If Haymitch and I can just figure out how to frame it. 

While I try to work it all out, the rest of me, the bigger part of me that is physically standing in Katniss’ kitchen, is in overdrive comfort mode. I peel off my jacket, and fold it in two, and then gently, as gently as I possibly can, I lift her head and tuck it under her. So that she doesn’t have to lay with her face pressed against the cold, hard, bare wood. 

“Thanks,” She mumbles, as she presses her face into the fabric, and of all things, inhales deeply. And then sighs, like she’s greatly contented by the smell of it. I worry absently, that it might reek of nervous sweat, after I forgot to take it off while I waited to hear the verdict of whether her mother would be able to save her or not. 

“Don’t mention it,” I half plead, still wanting her to go back to sleep, to simply rest and get better. I need her to be ok. Need it, like air, or water. 

“Smells good, like bread. Like you.” She whispers, sleepily. Her eyes are starting to droop. I almost let out a noise, a moan or groan of relief, the tension that had begun to gather between my shoulders lessening, at seeing her so close to falling asleep.

“I’ve been running around all day. Probably stinks. You’re just too doped up to notice.” I joke, relieved and yet sad that this conversation is coming to an end. It's been strange, and wonderful, but also, not real. Probably the morphing talking on her part more than anything. 

“Nuh, uh.” She refutes clumsily. “You always smell so nice.” She admits in a hushed whisper, like it's a secret. And from the way red floods her cheeks I start to think maybe it is a secret that she’s been keeping. Something she secretly likes about me, like the million-and-one not so secret things I like about her. 

Huh. 

I notice then that I’m tilting my head at her in confusion, and it's probably that odd expression that is keeping her from closing her silver-gray eyes. 

So I clear my throat, and adjust my expression. Give her another reassuring smile. Her hand clenches the fabric of the jacket tightly, and she looks like she wants to say something. 

“Won’t you be cold?” She asks, voice slightly slurred, as if her thoughts are muddled. I’m actually glad to be free of the thing. I was overwarm, here inside her house but hadn’t noticed yet, my mind too preoccupied with Katniss and her injuries. 

“Don’t worry about the jacket, I’ll borrow something to walk home in.” I say, trying to reassure her again. 

“No!” She nearly yelps, hand darting out to grab the edge of shirt. 

“Please don’t go.” She implores needlessly. My feet are already moving, not towards the door, though.  My hands pull out the chair her mother had been sitting in an hour ago. I plop myself down without ceremony, gathering her small, cold hand in my own and clenching it fiercely. She must be cold because of the snow they had to put on her back, but better to be cold and numb than for her to actually feel the stripes of pure fire the lash cut into her skin. 

I remind myself to be gentle, to softly, slowly rub warmth back into her hand, her arm, to stop clinging to her like--like--

But she is the most important thing in my entire world. And I’ve never been very good at hiding that. So at her kitchen table, with her back shredded, and her hand clasped in mine, I stop trying to hide it. 

My cheeks grow wet with the unshed tears I’ve been holding back for what feels like forever and I say, “Please, don’t scare me like that again. You have no idea what would happen to me, if something happened to you.” I practically beg, in a wrecked voice. 

Her voice is thick with sleep, but her hand is steady and impossibly gentle as she brushes away a tear, near my swollen eye. “I think I might.” She says in a sad voice. 

We stare at each other unblinking, revealed to each other just a little more in this raw, and painful moment. Why is it that all of our deepest interactions are marred by danger, tragedy, or pain? I muse internally, as her hand finds its way back to mine. 

“Then you know, I’d be a disaster. Without you.” I say, laying myself bare, and not caring at the moment how vulnerable I sound, how much it could end up hurting later, to be this honest. We’re both hurt, and bleeding, from everything that's happened today. Hell, from what’s happened in the past year. 

There’s no use pretending with her. 

“Then stay, and I’ll try my best, not to get into any more trouble.” She says in a voice that sounds surprised. As if she wasn’t expecting the words to come out of her mouth. Almost as surprised  as I feel actually hearing her say something like that to me out loud. But my response is quick, instinctual, I don’t even have to think about it. 

“Of course,” The words are automatic. The way my feet are always automatically rushing towards her, hand automatically reaching for her. Like a compass pointing north. Like the earth rotating on its axis. Firmly established in its immutability. 

“Always.” I add, because it doesn’t matter if she only wants me for comfort, as a constant. As if she knows I can do nothing but say yes to her, and anything she asks of me. An unfailingly predictable phenomenon. Like the sun rising in the east.

 If it's only for tonight, this one moment in time, that she wants me, then here I’ll be. By her side, because there’s no digging this girl out of me. I’ve tried, and she will not budge. She knows she owns me, heart and soul, and here she is claiming me when she has no business doing so. When she should be receiving comfort from another, more acceptable source.

But that’s just another thing I love about her. Her absolute disregard for how things should be done. 

Most people don’t go volunteering for the Games to save their little siblings, no matter how much they love them. Or running headlong into obvious danger to save half dead boys they hardly know. Or outwitting gamemakers with a handful of berries when they try to go back on their word. But Katniss Everdeen isn't like most people. 

If she was, maybe I wouldn’t be so hopelessly lost at the thought of life without her near permanent scowl, or the firm press of her calloused fingertips, tracing invisible patterns into my palm. 

“Mmm,” She murmurs, incoherent. She’s quickly being dragged under by exhaustion and the promise of sleep. 

I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead, lingering just a little. 

Come morning this might all just be a hazy, morphing induced dream to her. 

But right now, she needs me. 

And I have never felt as alive as in these moments. When fate and circumstance conspire to make Katniss Everdeen reachable, and dare I say, attainable. 

Yes, tomorrow it will be as if none of this ever happened. I’ll wake up and remember that she didn’t mean anything she said. It was just the medicine. Just the newest near death experience to add to the alarmingly fast growing list we’re compiling together.

But there’s a part of me that still wishes I could stop time and exist in this one moment. 

My heart full of her halfhearted promise to try and stay alive, for my sake, and her hand dragging my mine closer, her lips pressing an unconscious kiss to my buzzing skin, as she nuzzles her face against my palm, and the rest of the world forgotten. 

Forgotten, like all that matters is this.

And maybe that’s all that really does matter. That when it came down to it, it was my name she called, my hand that she reached for. 

That in these crazy, unpredictable situations we keep finding ourselves in, we are for each other. 

We stand unapologetically, unequivocally, together, despite whatever comes. 

In that undeniable fact, I take comfort, and in the undisturbed, even breaths she takes as she sleeps, safe here by my side, finally. 

[dontbelasagnax]

Fic Writer 20 Questions

Thank you for the tag @lttrsfrmlnrrgby! I am so very behind on all the tag games oops

1.) How many works do you have on ao3?

Technically 41 but 35 are fics and 6 are artworks.

2.) What's your ao3 word count?  

150,270!

3.) What fandoms do you write for? 

Currently I mainly write for Star Wars (codywan) but I also write for Good Omens! In the past I've also written fic for Doctor Who, Supernatural, Hannibal, and Criminal Minds. I think there's also a She-Ra fic that never made it past a couple paragraphs in my Google Docs 😂

4.) What are your top five fics by kudos?

1- kiss it better, baby: short and sweet destiel fic exploring sex repulsed asexuality in omegaverse

2 - Some Secrets aren't Meant to be Told: unfinished reader insert Criminal Minds x Supernatural crossover casefic I started when I was a teenager and abysmal at writing. Not to further disparage my age appropriate writing skills, but the formatting makes it nearly unreadable. We all learn and grow

3 - I'll Try and Somehow Make a Meaning of the Poison in this Place: 5 firsts between codywan as friends-with-benefits PLUS 1 time as boyfriends!

4 - catch me if you can (you already have): very sweet THERE WAS ONLY ONE BED codywan fic

5 - you're cute when you're nervous: good ol' codywan fic where they fulfill their promise of "after the war"

The blurbs are necessary because I do not recognize my fics by their titles 😂

5.) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I respond to every comment! Sometimes it just takes me a while because I've got anxiety and overthink everything. But I do always eventually reply! *glances at my inbox of 45+ comments and sweats*

6.) What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

If you discard the blip of an epilogue at the end of what's left unspoken, your heart will ache. I wrote the epilogue because after I finished the fic, I read it through, sat back and thought "ow, what the fuck". Couldn't leave myself and everyone else with that bittersweet open ending.

7.) What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Oh God. Everything I've ever written has a happy ending. I don't even know, man. Maybe my fwb codywan fic since it has so many rocky bits that the ending feels all the more sweet?

8.) Do you get hate on fics?

Very fortunate to say that I haven't!

9.) Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Yes, yes I do. My smut exists as an expression of love and a vessel of emotional and physical intimacy between the characters. Even when I think I've just written something properly fucknasty, all my comments are like "wow this is so soft and sweet 🥺". Genuinely, my smut is so asexual. It's rare I write characters experiencing sexual attraction; it's all about how the characters feel, both physically and emotionally. I've not done a very good job of making this sound sexy. I promise people say it's hot too.

I really respect authors who write unabashedly horny things without the characters being in love. Hats off to you guys. I've got no fucking clue how that works!

10.) Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I have written one crossover (the one linked in the kudos question) but I don't think it was particularly crazy. Don't think I'll ever write another crossover but I do love fusions and I've done one of Sleeping Beauty and Star Wars! I'd definitely love to do something like that again.

11.) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12.) Have you ever had a fic translated?

I haven't but that would be so cool.

13.) Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

Nope!

14.) What's your all time favorite ship?

Oh goodness. Well. Hm. My ships have all gotten me through the lowest points of my life thus far and led me to meet my most treasured friends. I don't think I could concretely give an answer to this because every ship is special to me in a different way. I will say that I find myself so unbelievably grateful for codywan these days. 

15.) What's a WIP you'd like to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I have a Hannibal coffeeshop AU (Hannibal is still a cannibal, he just falls in love (unhealthily obsessed) with Will who's the only barista at the overpriced coffeeshop he frequents to get his order perfectly correct every single time) that I loooooove but I genuinely have not been able to get into the right headspace and flow to finish it.

16.) What are your writing strengths?

I'm really good at writing tender and heartfelt emotions. All the sap. It's my niche. If it's not implanted into every crevice of the fic just how sickeningly in love the characters are with one another, then it's not something I've written. I don't even do it on purpose most of the time. I sneeze and it appears on the page.

17.) What are your writing weaknesses?

I cannot possibly comprehend drafts (for fic writing). Everything has to be as close to how it is in my head on the first try. This is why it takes me so excruciatingly long to write anything. I hunker down and overthink and rewrite the same sentence five times over the course of an hour. Yes I know this isn't a sustainable writing method, HOWEVER, I've never claimed to have a good method of writing. Also, I'm not changing it. I'm stuck in my ways and I like it here. I'm cozy.

18.) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If not done in a very specific way, it's definitely a pet peeve of mine.

19.) First fandom you wrote for?

Doctor Who!

20.) Favorite fic you've ever written?

At the moment, it's you're cute when you're nervous. Everytime I read it--which isn't often because I like to give myself time and space from my fics so I can enjoy them properly--it hits me with violent waves of emotion. Everything feels so palpable. I just really love it.

I've got no clue who's already been tagged so, truly, these are no pressure tags: @shortcuts-make-long-delays @aquaticflames @inkformyblood @agreekdemigod @cillyscribbles

[popchoc]

How scandalous is it that no one has written about That One Helm and Yasuda Scene yet? It's been days!!!!!! I know you've done a few, so would you could you maybe please please please? I don't even need plot lolol

"I don't even need plot" 😂😂

I'm not doing any prompts right now, but sure, I'm always open for suggestions. The issue with this one, however, is that I don't write 🔥 smut 🔥 for the sake of smut (it's different when it's a fitting part within a bigger story).

Which is basically what we're talking about here, right? What we're all picturing, as they come crashing into that room, all hot and heavy?

Taryn's hands skimming under Mika's shirt, even before the door closes properly behind them. Her voice already hoarse when she moves her lips to her girlfriend's ear, breathing that one word into it.

"Off."

And we know, Mika doesn't have to be told twice. Her top hits the floor, leaving her in her black bra that molds perfectly around her breasts. With her now exposed skin screaming for Taryn's touch, she steps closer, directing the both of them towards her bed as soon as their bodies intertwine again.

Yet Taryn has other plans. "Uh uh," she mumbles into their kiss, while gently pushing her backwards. "Up."

The second Mika's bum hits the dresser behind her, she gets the hint. She hops on to it without effort. Drawing Taryn back in between her thighs, their lips reconnect for another hungry, passionate kiss. As Taryn's hands start to roam her body, Mika's fingers tangle in Taryn's long hair, holding on for dear life - and for a minute she doesn't know anymore where one of them ends and the other begins.

Without letting go, Mika manages to kick off her shoes. This time it's Taryn who doesn't need a clue. "Up," she simply says again, while her skillful fingers easily unbutton Mika's jeans, before sliding it down when Mika lifts her hips. After tossing the garment away, she takes a moment to take it all in; this sight of Mika sitting there, her amazing body illuminated by a yellow, moonlike light, her eyes blazing with want, want for her.

"How are you real?" she sighs deeply, now swiftly delving back in to bury her face into the valley between Mika's breasts. When Mika feels Taryn's lips nipping, her tongue tasting her longing skin, she can only gasp, sharing the wonder, "How are you?!"

Taryn doesn't answer, too distracted by every inch of Mika she's crossing in her way up. She cups Mika's neck, pulls her near, her lips almost back on hers… then suddenly averts her gaze back down again, studying Mika's chest as if it's the finest piece of art—which it is—while Mika arches her back in desire, handing Taryn even more skin to explore. Taryn moves her hand to Mika's breast, caresses and squeezes it through the fabric, still amazed by the fact that she can, that this girl is hers now, that she's giving her all to her, and thrilled by the reaction she's getting in reward. There's no stopping this. Not now. Not ever.

Sounds of moaning and heavy breathing are filling the room. They're hardly aware of it. Mika shifts forward, searching for more friction from Taryn's body. Taryn knows she can do better though. Slipping her hand between them, her fingers find their way down without hesitation. Mika's damp panties tell her she waited long enough.

As Taryn starts stroking her, they lose themselves in a new series of searing kisses, until it's not enough anymore. Until Taryn wants to feel, needs to taste more. Without allowing Mika to leave her spot, she yanks down those panties, then swiftly looks up again to meet Mika's eyes. Mika can read the question in hers, and answers her by bracing herself - her palms flat on the surface, her feet just as flat against the front of the cabinet.

Mika's scent is intoxicating and delightful. Taryn's tongue is determined and sensational. What follows is a stream of breathless praises that only encourage more.

"Can I—" Taryn asks, gazing up. Yet before she can even finish her question, Mika frantically nods.

"Yes. Oh, yes!"

Slowly, Taryn slides two digits into her girl's depths. When she starts to thrust, she can feel the arousal coat her fingers, feel hot walls tighten around them.

"D-Don't stop," Mika pants, "Don't you… don't you st—"

That's when her toes curl, her eyes clench shut and her body gives in, slumping forward right when Taryn gets up to catch her.

It's also when Lucas bangs the wall right behind her. "You're done already?!" he calls from the other side.

Mika takes a deep breath, and then another one. She hops off the dresser, surprised that her legs still know how to, and takes Taryn's hand into her own. Leading her along towards the bed, a grin sneaks onto her face.

"Poor boy," she smirks over her shoulder, still somewhat out of air, "We're just getting started."

That's how it went right? It's so obvious, I really don't think I need to write all of that down.

Oh wait…..

[call-sign-shark]

Hi, Shark! I paused for a while my chaotic morning. I didn't stopped since 7am (it's 2pm here now) and my back said, bitch, calm down 😂. So, I listened to my body, I'm in bed now, and I decided to send you something I thought yesterday:

Would Heaven fall in love with the other Arthur (Rat's Arthur)? And vice versa, what about Rat and canon! Arthur?

I know they're the same character, but still there are differences between both of them.

🤔

Hey baby Flor, thank you so much for your awesome question because this is so clever and got me thinking a lot. But before answering, I hope you are feeling better and that your back doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m sending you a wild Alfie to massage your sore back! 😌

Regarding Modern!Arthur, even if I try to keep him as canon as possible, the modern context in which he evolves ultimately changes a lot of things in his character. For example, even with anger management issues he cannot just go in a boxing ring and kill a boy with his bare fists without the slightest consequences. Same goes for slashing someone’s face out of jealousy. Regarding his mental illnesses, they also have to be kept under a minimum of control to fit our modern society. While we still need to make progress in treatments of mental illnesses, the access to therapy is easier nowadays than it was in the 1920’s. Which explains why he has some kind of self-control, and is less prone to emotional outbursts than his Peaky Blinders Self. Taking this into account, we can conclude that they are different. Now we can answer the question properly.

Heaven and Modern!Arthur: In a modern setting, they would still fall for each others. I like to think them as soul mates who find each other in every life. Moreover she has this supernatural ability to calm down wild spirits, which is something Arthur needs even in a modern setting. They would meet right after his divorce with Linda, and would have helped him overcome his drug addictions — contrary to the canon!version in which he kinda cheats on Linda with her but is also already clean. Besides, she is also quick witted and bratty, which are traits he appreciates a lot. I guess she’s just more subtle than Rat, who goes full berserk 🤣

Also, what kind of job Modern!Heaven would have? War doctor, forensic doc, nurse, something else?

Rat and canon!Arthur: Here comes the trouble. Arthur and Rat would not fall in love with each other. At least not in a conventional way. Rat is too brutal and unpredictable, while Arthur lacks of control and is mentally unstable, so they would end up fighting with fists for real. Also, Rat would not be able to bring the softness and care Arthur needs. I don’t think he would be happy with a brutal and straight-forward girlfriend. Imo, Arthur needs a woman with an iron fist in a velvet glove. Someone who’s soft, gentle with him, but who’s still in charge. That’s partly why the first version of Heaven could not work — she was way too similar to Rat.

I can picture them meeting on the boxing gym, beating the shit out of each other regularly (like. Really hard.), and then getting high and drunk together, maybe fucking rough like animals, but they won’t be good for each other. Rat is also a very traumatized character: she would not be able to carry both her past and Arthur’s trauma/problems on her shoulders. Surprisingly, they wouldn’t hate each other. Pretty sure they could even grow close. But ultimately their relationship would be quite destructive and I don’t think their love-story would end well. *coughs* Rat would prolly overdose or get killed during a boxing fight *cough*

Note: Rat is shaking Modern!Arthur like a tree while yelling “eh see? She called you Rat’s Arthur. You’re my property now, dumbass. Go make me mojito.”

• Heaven is reader in the ongoing Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC séries Heaven in Your Eyes || Latest chapter here

• Rat is reader in the Modern!Arthur Shelby concept Loose Cannon.