#all can homestead no matter who you are

[perri-berry]

Wtf is up with TERFS in the homesteading tag?? Like... homesteading can be for literally everyone. Keep your bigotry away from my self sustaining systems.

#not stardew #homesteading #traditional wife too #thats weird #stop making being sustainable gross 🤢 #radfems dm if your brave #all can homestead no matter who you are #keep your gatekeeping shit out of hwre

[flamingpudding]

Drake's family secret

A/N: Another story idea I had and I probably will keep working on. I kinda want to continue on it I just have no idea how or with what yet.

Tim had a secret. Well, he had many secrets but this was one he had kept closed off for a very long time now. It was one of the reasons he fabricated a fake uncle to avoid getting adopted. After all, if you were put into the system how could you possibly get found or find your last living blood relative? His family didn't know and he never intended for them to know anyway. It was a secret well-kept of the Drake family, one that even the public didn't know about. His parents hadn't thrown around money to keep anyone involved silent for nothing after all.

But Tim had had vague memories as well as found the last remaining documents years ago. The problem had been that he hadn't been Robin yet at that time and couldn't do research like he can now. Tim had often wondered if one of the reasons he had followed Batman around back then was to see if he could help him with that matter too, yet he had never brought it up to Bruce nor any of his other siblings.

In a way it made Tim feel guilty now as he looked over that old piece of paper. The only hint he had until now.

He looked over the security video of Wayne Enterprise again. Watching that group of high schoolers that was there on a school trip visit. His eyes tracked one specific student among them. If things were different Tim would joke about how the boy looked like perfect Bruce adoption material. But as it was, Tim was not going to make that joke.

Because as much as the boy fell into the stereotype of Bruce's adoption problem, the boy had facial features that looked very much like one Jenet Drake. Tim could honestly see it, sure his memories were not the best in regards to his parents but he had kept at least some photos for references. But recognizing that threw in a whole other set of problems.

For one he would need to find a way to make sure the Drake Family secret doesn't get exposed to his family too soon. Second, he needed to find a way to approach the boy without looking suspicious. Third, he was on a time limit, according to what he found the school trip the boy was on lasted for a week. Once the boy was out of Gotham it would be even harder to find a passable excuse to approach him. Fourth, he would also need a blood sample. As much as the boy's looks alone could make Tim believe it, the rest of his family was paranoid and if he was completely homestead, he also would need it for his reassurance that he wasn't wrong. Which again he kind of doubted even with this little amount of evidence. The fifth problem in this was, how was he going to break it to the rest of his family.

Because the best kept Drake's Family secret, he was pretty sure he was the last remaining person in the know, was that Tim had a little brother. A brother that was born when he was around 3 or four years old. A little brother who had never gotten to grow up with him because Jack and Jenet Drake had used their constant traveling as cover so the public wouldn't know about him. They already had an heir with Tim, they didn't need a second child. So the moment his little brother had been born he was given up in a closed adoption. Never to be seen again and never to be connected to the Drake family.

Tim only knew about him because he had vague memories about his mother's pregnancy and also had later found the papers in his parents' office when he was around ten. He remembered how upset he had been at the discovery but also how he hadn't been able to do anything about it. Though it was back then that he had also decided that the moment he could he would do everything he could to find him. Things only started to change when he became Robin and then Red Robin. Now he had the resources and knowledge to find the little brother he had never gotten to grow up with.

But too much time had passed and his parents had been thorough when covering their tracks, which resulted in Tim having been unable to find that little brother of his. Having no name and no idea who adopted him, didn't help either. But Tim had had less to work with before, yet the search had given him massive troubles, to the point that he HAD contemplated getting the rest of his family in on it.

But now that wasn't necessary anymore, there was an actual chance again.

Thankfully he had come in late today, if he hadn't he wouldn't have seen the group of High School students on a school trip in the Lobby waiting for their tour guide. He wouldn't have seen the group of teens that lacked behind their fellow students a bit. But most importantly he wouldn't have seen that kid that looked like adoption bait for Bruce. That then by closer inspection had so many facial similarities to his mother that Tim had first thought he was hallucinating.

Now he was sitting in his office, watching the group of High Schoolers getting a tour through the building through the security cams while trying to come up with the perfect plan that didn't look too suspicious as he watched the boy who could be his blood-related little brother. Oh, Damian would throw a fit if he learned about having another brother, Tim mused for a moment as he noted down the boy's, Danny's, excitement about their aerospace department. He had already decided, if Danny was not living adequately he would pull all the strings he could to get his little brother home.

So far Tim had found out that the boy's name was Danny Fenton. He would dig into that later more. He would also make sure that if Danny was his little brother, he saw to it that he was getting treated right. He had noticed how his little brother appeared overly tired and there was a bandage hidden below his shirt plus through the security camera footage, he had also seen that there was a hint of scarring on his left arm.

For now, though he had sent a message to the tour guide to end the tour in his office, for something like a surprise introduction to Tim Drake-Wayne. He would continue to build up his plan of getting to know and confirm his little brother's status from there.

#dp x dc #danny fenton #dpxdc #danny phantom #dcxdp #tim drake #Danny was born a Drake but got given up for adoption #the Drakes didn't want a second child #Tim knew he had a little brother but couldn't find him yet #The rest of the Waynes do not know about this at all #Now Tim his hatching a plan to see if he can confirm if Danny is his little brother or not #Danny has no idea what was happening #Tim got one week to figure out how to make Danny trust him #than Danny would return to Amity with the rest of his class #Danny doesn't know he is adopted #and Tim just wants to confirm it #he might not reveal it if Danny has a good life #is having your parents hunt your secret identity and having a govermental branch hunting you too a good life? #Tim's going to have a field day (and not in the good way) when he finds out more about Danny's live #unedited #no beta we die like danny

[turbulentscrawl]

HELLOOO could we get ithaqua with a modern Reader too? :33

MWehehe

-Honestly, not the brightest idea for a modern S/O to try and get with his one. Modern social culture is very deep in the anti-toxicity (to the point that we circle back into it without realizing sometimes) and Ithaqua exhibits a lot of red-flag buzzwords. He’s the kind of person reddit would constantly tell you to divorce haha.

-He would be a bit torn over you, though. On one hand, you clearly lived emersed in “society” as a whole, which is what he was generally the most at odds with in life. (In a modern setting, Ithaqua would be an off-grid homesteader. He’s probably against having wifi at his home, even.) On the other hand…you’re a bit of an outcast in the survivor manor. He’s a little crazy, but not BLIND. He can see how people are nervous about you in the beginning, shun you and your magic box.

-He’s got no fucking clue what the magic box is either, but Ithaqua does not believe in magic, religion, or the paranormal. The people who dictate those things called his mother a witch, and himself a demon, and he knows in his heart that they were just two people living life in a way others didn’t like. Superstition is what got him dumped in the snow as a babe, so even if he’s confused as hell by your technology, he’s smart and reasonable enough to know it’s due to a lack of education on his part and not you being some otherworldly, incomprehensible thing.

-He’s likely drawn to you a bit from the above treatment you suffer. Maybe the others are more than willing to use you as bait, hesitant to rescue you, or fail to even explain to you how decoding works. Ithaqua will notice these things even in the middle of a hunt. He thinks you’re pitiful—until you’re not, and that makes you interesting. Ithaqua finds the remnants of whatever your modern-ness makes up your skills. Your phone tucked into a grassy corner, playing a recording of someone shuffling through a chest, maybe, and he picks it up curiously. And then, well, he has to return it to you. Unfortunately for you, he’s one of the faster hunters and this only delays him for a few seconds.

-Ithaqua starts to, frankly, bully you in matches. He’s less vicious with the damage done, and instead of chairing you off the bat, he takes a liking to carrying you around while he hunts your teammates. It doesn’t matter that you struggle free or self-heal sometimes, he can catch you again easily enough. He talks to you while he zips around after everyone, his usual giggles and sighs replaced with questions and commentary for you. You reach a point one day where you self-heal, but don’t bother running…and Ithaqua just grins like a shark and pats you on the head.

-Eventually he notices the others warming up to you better…and it makes him bitter. “They’re all hypocrites,” he tells you in a dark corner of the basement. “I treated you like everyone else from the start, didn’t I?” That’s his argument to endear himself to you. To coil you further around his (admittedly gentle, all things considered) finger. Yes, he hit you, hunted you, but that’s his job. The POINT, he says, is that he likes you and it’s not FAKE because he’s always seen you as an equal to the others. (To the survivors, not to himself, because the manor roles say you’re clearly not.)

-The POINT is that you shouldn’t fully trust the rest of them—they’ll turn on you again if they get spooked—but him? Ithaqua doesn’t get spooked. He gets…possessive. He likes you. He’ll be here, if you need him. And even if you don’t. He’ll take care of your troubles for you, sweet pet.

#idv x reader #identity v #idv ithaqua #idv night watch #ithaqua x reader #turbulentscrawl

[fleshdyke]

i think it starts with an apocalypse. by sheer luck and circumstance, you survive. you seem to be the only one.

everything seems barren, eerily still, nothing but grass and trees and water. you survive, but there is nothing here. the only sign that anyone was ever here is pyramids of solid red brick, stacked up in a uniformly triangular shape. they don’t seem to do anything. you are alone.

your first night finds you tormented by the dead. they groan and creak and seem to be desperate to infect you. they are all dead by morning.

there’s only a few resilient species that seem to have survived along with you. they’re your only chance right now. the sheep provide companionship. you learn not to get attached to the pigs.

you build a home for yourself. it’s modest, nothing fancy, but it protects you from the elements. you still have hope. your footsteps echo through the empty house in the mornings. you are alone.

it takes years, but ever so slowly, the second hominid re-emerges. they build villages and farmland and are happy to barter with you. they have their own language. you seem to have forgotten yours.

you find the remains of wild animals you haven’t killed. you learn to be patient, and watchful, and you see the wolves that hunt in the forests. it takes a long time, but you gain the trust of one of them. she never leaves your side again.

you explore a little more. you find ancient temples in the deserts, booby trapped and filled with forgotten riches from millennia ago. you don’t know who built this. whoever it was disappeared a long time ago.

jungles flourish and bring with them tropical fruit and colourful birds and skittish cats that seem to love fish. you take home as many as will follow you. the world isn’t quite so quiet anymore.

the oceans come alive again. it’s no longer an empty, unforgiving void that you just so happen to be lucky enough to float on. schools of fish flicker away into vast kelp forests when you cast your lure into the water. the tropical shallows fill with a myriad of fish and coral in every colour you can think of. you find an old boat, much bigger than anything you could ever construct, laying dormant at the bottom of the sea. the writing on the maps you find there is familiar.

there is a temple in the middle of the ocean. you don’t know who built it, but it’s been reclaimed by the fish. you don’t dare go there anymore.

bees buzz softly through the air. you learn to keep them, and learn to harvest their honey, and your crops grow better than they ever have. your livestock keep you busy. your livestock keep you distracted.

even the lost dimension that connection to was severed so long ago returns to its former glory. you explore forests of mycelium and dunes of sticky sand and basalt spires and with them they bring the lost intelligent hominid. you learn quickly not to touch their temples, no matter how run down they seem to be. they are holy.

and even in the most hostile, barren places, deep underground, the place where only you seem to have ever been, life flourishes. glowing lichen lights your way and bears you fruit. massive caverns and underground freshwater pools are home to unique plants and unseen amphibians.

and even after so much growth, and so much recovery, you are still alone.

you search. you search for months that turn into years that turn into decades. what was once a humble homestead has grown into a fortress. you are safe there. you are alone. on every expedition, you leave markers and statues, anything to say i was here. i am alive. you set up beacons to signal to anyone who might be out there. no one ever responds. you are alone.

you follow forgotten maps to the ends of the earth to find anyone that might have survived alongside you. you cannot give up. you cannot be alone.

you experiment. you’ve found a way to cure infected villagers, to return them home, but have had no such luck with the remains of your own species. you think they’re your own species. they’re the closest thing to you that you’ve seen. you grow desperate.

the humanoids that walk freely between their realm and yours used to frighten you, but you’ve been alone for so long you find yourself talking back to them. you begin to hear greetings in the noises they make. you know they aren’t talking to you. you wish you could talk to them. you don’t try to make eye contact.

you follow every clue you find in forgotten ruins. they always lead to nowhere. you piece together portals to other worlds, and find nothing but hostile hellscapes and misery. you have travelled across the world. you’ve gone from blistering deserts and over unforgiving mountains and through freezing tundras and across oceans to find someone, anyone. there is never a new signal, a new clue. there is never anything to indicate that there are any survivors.

you are alone.

your bones creak. it’s been so long. you don’t want to die. you don’t want to take your species with you.

so what do you think, when you turn to see someone standing in a doorway in your fortress that you spent decades building? someone so unmistakably human, someone you’ve spent your entire life searching for to no avail, someone you’ve been constantly lying to yourself about, convincing yourself they were out there somewhere, all the while knowing they weren’t?

you don’t know if you’re hallucinating, if you’ve finally slipped into madness. if this is just a stroke of bizarre luck, that the other survivor has found you before you could find them. if this is another malevolent entity in a world full of strange magic and power, something that was once human, or is only somewhat, or is just appearing to be, and is simply better than the others at pretending.

only one way to find out.

#i think today i will write a poem about minecraft #mc is a psychological horror game. and i fully believe this #and that makes it one of the best games ever made amen #btw dsmp fans dont interact. i hate you and your racist white guys #rambles #poetry #poems #minecraft #mc #horror #writing #my art #long post #psychological horror #unreality #100 #best

[monstersdownthepath]

Empyreal Lord: Andoletta, Grandmother Crow

CR 28

Lawful Good Medium Outsider

Heaven Unleashed, pg. 16~18

Surprise! A special capstone for this month devoted to all that's good in the world.

Andoletta here has the same unenviable position as Furcas, in that she doesn't exist on the internet beyond some vague numbers on the wiki. No presence in the Archives of Nethys, no copyright-free version on d20pfsrd, nothing. Much like Furcas, the most we have are the stats of her weapon of choice, a +5 Anchoring Ghost Touch Holy Quarterstaff that's often masquerading as simple walking stick, the Artifact known as Helicyon. When I first found her in Heaven Unleashed as I was seeking more information on Divine Heralds, I was gobsmacked to see her at all! What other secrets are hiding in books I've never read?!

Grandmother Crow also has the actual enviable position of being the ONLY Archon Empyreal Lord with stats. Yes, even the shining paladin Ragathiel is an Angel, not an Archon, and Andoletta puts all future potential archons to shame by being one their best. The ultimate grandmother to all beings, Andoletta takes pains to remind her peers that winning a war means nothing if there's nothing left back home worth protecting, and as such, she watches over the most peaceful of Heaven's many kingdoms, caring for the souls within who have no desire or ability to fight in the crusades against Evil and even venturing into the mortal world at the edges of war-torn kingdoms to shepherd the lost, lonely, grieving, and innocent to better lives, masquerading as... Well, nothing. As one of the most human-looking celestials, she really has no need or desire to change herself (though she can take on the shape of a crow, raven, or tengu when needed), so her most common "disguise" is just walking around as herself, a stern old woman with a cloak of crow feathers who seeks those needing her advice.

It should come as no surprise to those even passingly familiar with fantasy stories that you should never question the advice of an elder with an eccentric accessory. When she speaks, it is of the utmost importance that you listen, for what she has to say will always be what you needed to hear, no matter what that may be. If you are grieving, you'll be consoled. If you are hopeless, you'll be encouraged. If you're questioning, she'll have the answer. If you're an idiot, she'll say it to your face, and then give you advice on how to smarten up. For the majority of her existence, Andoletta eschews the idea of conflict and instead focuses on offering little comforts to those in need, especially children; a kind word, needed advice, a basket of food, or even just something as simple as a reassuring hand on the shoulder or a glass of milk on the nightstand to help someone troubled go back to sleep. It's these small acts of kindness that she specializes in, the tiny comforts she feels build people into being better overall, giving them the tiny push they need to keep going.

Of course, that CR 28 isn't just for show. Andoletta is never the first to join a fight, preferring life on the homestead, but any fiend attacking what they believe to be a harmless old woman or threatening the lives of children in her care is in for a hell of a reality check.

Let's begin with her aforementioned weapon of choice: Helicyon. It's said that Grandmother Crow's divine power erupted into existence once she gained an understanding the secrets of an ancient willow tree which whispered the truth of the past to her. It was reduced to a single branch when a jealous archon attempted the same, only to find that pathway to enlightenment allowed only one creature to pass, forcing Andoletta to take that branch and turn it into a walking stick she can call to her hand from across any distance.

she presumably did that after giving the idiotic soldier of Heaven a solid whacking for such an egregious show of short-sighted envy.

Beyond just being a reminder of Andoletta's journey to divinity, Helicyon is her primary whackin' stick, and it's deadly enough to give pause to whatever Balor or Pit Fiend thought it'd be funny to swing on an old lady. This +5 Anchoring Ghost Touch Holy Quarterstaff can be swung up to seven times a round for 1d6+14 (+2d6 vs Evil) damage, with the Anchoring ability giving her the amusing option to slam it down into someone's foot or pushing them against a wall with its end in their chest and pinning them in place while she lectures them on how stupid they are to make her resort to such measures. And her lecture would work, too, because anyone struck by Helicyon must make a DC 25 Will save or be filled with Overwhelming Grief at every tragedy that's occurred in the entirety of creation since their existence started, unable to take any actions for up to 28 rounds unless they succeed the save again at some point during the effect. This crushing remorse is so potent it penetrates all defenses, including Mythic and deific protection, and no creature is immune to it, even if they don't have emotions. The only way to avoid the grief is to succeed the saving throw (any of the saves it offers will do), at which point there's a 24-hour immunity clause to prevent Grandma from stun-locking someone for minutes at a time.

While her melee may not seem intimidating at first, she's got a large pick of spells from the Inquisitor spell list she can invoke as swift actions, including Forceful Strike (+10d4 damage Force damage plus a free Bull Rush on a melee attack), Burst of Speed (+20 movement speed, movement doesn't trigger AoOs, can move through enemy spaces), and perhaps most dangerously for her foes: Litany of Righteousness, which causes the target to take double damage from the attacks of creatures with a Good alignment aura, including herself and her own attacks, for one round. 1d6+14 isn't impressive, but 2d6+28 up to seven times? There's an appropriate trope for this.

She has more than just a handful of Inquisitor spells, of course; among a handful of charming and helpful spells (such as Daylight, Plant Growth, and Calm Emotions), her combat options include a 3/day Dictum and Greater Dispel Magic, and the oxymoronic Quickened Slow to mire her foes with a lengthy stagger, making it much harder for them to harm her in a meaningful way... which is good, because she kind of needs it.

Unlike most demigods, Andoletta has comparatively fewer defenses. Her DR 15 is much harder to pierce than many other Good-aligned demigods, requiring a weapon that's Evil-aligned and Epic, but her low 10 Regeneration is suppressed by ANY exposure to Evil. She's got most of the Demigod Suite of immunities including proof against charm/compulsion, energy drain, ability score damage, poison, death, and petrification... but because grandma needs her naps and has arthritis, she's not immune to sleep or paralysis. In addition, her ONLY elemental resistance is immunity to Electricity when most creatures at her level are swinging around Fire and Cold with incredible ferocity. She doesn't even have Freedom of Movement available to her, leaving her terribly vulnerable to entangling effects, paralysis, or even just difficult terrain, which can prevent her from initiating with her otherwise-intimidating Spring Attack.

Thankfully, her lack of in-built defenses is somewhat mollified by her other unique abilities. She has the Primal Aura of all Empyreal Lords, her unique aura stretching to create a 30ft Circle of Protection From Evil, shielding everything inside from the attacks, spells, and effects of any Evil creature while also preventing any summoned Evil creature from setting a single toe inside. Anyone with 10 or less Hit Dice that's inside the aura is also shielded by an empowered Sanctuary effect that requires a DC 39 Will save to attack through... unless the fight takes place in Heaven, at which point the Sanctuary effect is completely unbreakable, resetting every round even if the protected creature attacks. The primary use of this power is, obviously, shielding civilians, as any attacker quickly finds out they can't bring their weapon against any innocent, costing them their action for the round and often allowing Andoletta to punish them for the attempt.

This isn't her only means of protecting her wards and allies, either; several of her lord and Inquisitor spells are for the benefit of others, like Litany of Escape and Litany of Warding, but she can also cause a mass-Sanctuary by standing tall and using Wing Snap. This 1/day thunderous crack of her hidden crow wings dispels fear effects from any number of creatures of her choosing within 30ft and shields them with Sanctuary, while any Evil creature within the radius must succeed a DC 39 Fortitude save or take 5d6 Sonic damage and be struck deaf for 2d6 rounds. This power can only be used when she has her Crow Feather Cape, but the indestructible artifact returns to her every 24 hours even if she's gifted it to someone, so she more or less always has it on her anyway.

Why would she give her cape away, though? Typically as a test. Anyone bearing her Crow Feather Cape is shielded by the immensely powerful Winds of Vengeance spell for 24 entire hours, a spell that's potent offensively and defensively. A creature shrouded by the cape can thus fly at 60ft/round through any environment and gains immunity to ALL projectile-based ranged attacks, 90% of existing breath weapons, and all gas/vapor-based attacks, spells, and effects. Anything striking a shrouded creature in melee has to make a DC 39 Fortitude save or take 5d6 damage and be knocked prone (or knocked from the sky, if it was flying), potentially ending a Full-Attack and allowing a retaliatory Full-Attack from the wielder with extra accuracy bonuses thanks to the victim being knocked prone.

Any creature that violates a just law while blessed with the cape not only immediately loses its power over winds, but has their voice stolen and replaced with the helpless squawking of a crow until they get the curse broken or until Andoletta removes it with a thought, typically followed by a stern lecture. It's an unbelievably powerful tool she can hand out to someone she thinks may use it correctly... but in my readings of this ability, there seems to be absolutely no restrictions in place which prevent Grandmother Crow from using the ability on herself as a move action, giving her insurmountable defenses against anyone trying to hit her from a range and blasting anyone hitting her in melee off their feet, letting her either lay into them with her staff... or use its Anchoring ability to pin them to the ground so she can advise them against going any further.

In the end, that's all she really wants. She is the least warlike of all the Archons; she's not made to fight, and in fact abhors actually doing so, battling only when innocent lives are on the line and even then only until her wards have fled the fight before she teleports, Time Stops, or Plane Shifts away herself. She's more likely to trip up, disable, debuff, and humiliate her foes than actually kill them, humbling them so that they may listen to her words and, eventually, internalize them. With age comes wisdom, with wisdom comes patience, and Andoletta is patient enough to watch for every minute crack and fracture in even the most staunchly evil soul in the hopes that she can jam it wide enough to plant a seed of good.

And if that fails, she tends to just hold off her attacker long enough for a finisher to come along, because Heaven knows there are plenty of them around, ready to jump to Grandma's defense.

Andoletta's stats are not available via official channels, but I did find them here. The stats for her staff, however, are on the Archives here.

#Holy Heralds Month #not really but im including her anyway #Monster Spotlight #CR 26 and up #Pathfinder #dungeons and dragons 5e

[aziraphales-library]

Hi there!! Thank you so much for running this wonderful blog! As someone who has only recently started to get into fanfiction your recommendations have been very helpful.

I was wondering: I’ve read quite a few historical fics, and while all of those were wonderful, I was wondering if there were any fics set in a futuristic (like post 21st century or something) setting that you would recommend? It can be cannon compliant or not it doesn’t really matter to me, but I would prefer something not E-rated. :)

Thanks again for this great blog!!

Hello! Here are some future fics for you...

The Four Hundredth Anniversary Is Stars by AstroGirl (G)

They make it to Alpha Centauri eventually, via the tourist route.

Celestial Passengers by syrupfactory (T)

Passengers adaptation for the Good Omens RomCom Event  In the distant future on the planet Homestead II, Aziraphale and Crowley recall the journey that brought the first settlers there. The starship Avalon transported five thousand hibernating passengers from Earth to this new world, and their safe arrival was declared miraculous … which sparked a curious rumor that angels must have accompanied and protected them. Aziraphale is happy to keep that legend alive as long as there are people who want to believe. His husband is mostly just amused.

Revelation by syrupfactory (M)

The year is 3021, and Aziraphale and Crowley have been married for a thousand years. Together, they manage the London Archive, a futuristic information hub that stands on the same block that one held a bookstore. An Anglican priest who visits regularly has a huge crush on Aziraphale, and Crowley is amused … until the priest grows bitter enough to make a very poor choice. As it turns out, envy is a bad look for a man of the cloth, and pissing off an angel is far worse.

This One Is Special by AppleSeeds (M)

Heaven and Hell are joining forces against humanity as written in the Divine Plan. Aziraphale is desperate to stop them, convinced that if he can just find evidence to show Gabriel that there is still hope for humanity, he might be able to persuade him to stand down. All he needs is one human, someone who has learnt to be better and wants to save the world... Might that person be Crowley, a man who has just quit his job and joined a spiritual retreat while he tries to work out what to do with his life in the face of unethical corporate practices, yet another pandemic and impending ecological collapse? Crowley is surprised by the interest Aziraphale is taking in him, listening to him like no one ever has before. Aziraphale also happens to be completely lovely and gorgeous enough to make Crowley reverse his decision not to think about men on this retreat. It's still a bit of a shock when Crowley wakes up surrounded by candles with Aziraphale actually in his bedroom though...

Binary Star by TriffidsandCuckoos (T)

After abandoning the Earth in the wake of a more environmental apocalypse, humanity has taken to the stars. Crowley stayed behind to restore the Earth; Aziraphale followed the humans into space. After almost two centuries, the latest prophet arrives in Aziraphale’s archive, determined to rectify this.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #future fic #space #science fiction #mod d

[teecupangel]

Ok so because I was rewatching Disney and DreamWorks imagine if Ratonhnhaké:ton was in like a musical, kind of like Hamilton but in real life. I don't know how that will work and I'm slowly losing cells so yeah : P

“There is something you must know before you leave.” The clan mother, his grandmother, spoke solemnly.

Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at her and waited for her to continue.

She was giving him permission to leave their village after all. The least he could do was heed her warnings and take her words to heart.

“These white men have a curse placed upon them.”

“A curse?” Ratonhnhaké:ton repeated with a frown.

“Yes, they are slaves to the music only they hear.” She explained, “We know not why it is so but they would be taken in by the desire to sing and be unable to resist it. No matter the place or the time, when they hear the music, they must sing.”

She stared at her only grandson as she continued, “Your mother and I… we were worried that you have gotten their curse but not once have you ever shown to bear the same curse as they have. That might change once you walk among them.”

She must have seen the disbelief that he was trying to hide for she sigh as she said, “You must be careful, Ratonhnhaké:ton. Who knows what this curse truly entails. We can never be certain that this curse is not simply the inescapable call of music.”

“I… understand.” Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded, “I will be careful.”

The clan mother knew that Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t truly understand but she said nothing, only telling him to be careful.

He will understand soon enough.

.

Unorganized Notes:

So my idea is that the Europeans are the ones hit by this ‘curse’. They’re compelled to sing whenever they hear the music and it happens a lot. The natives see this and are like “???” but to the colonizers, it’s just… par of the course.

This does mean those who weren’t born or raised in the parts of Europe like Adéwalé do not sing. He does sing with the crew when it’s sea shanties but any dance number and such? Nope, he was the ‘straight dude’ in the Jackdaw.

This means that Achilles also doesn’t sing so he’s able to tell Ratonhnhaké:ton how it looks and feel like to give him a head’s up.

The Kenways, Edward, Haytham and even Jenny, usually sing very dramatic songs. It shows as the kind of “find my freedom and goal” uplifting songs for Edward, the whole “I want to be me” kind of songs for Jenny and the “villain song that is always the best song in the album” type of songs for Haytham (bonus points for Haytham having his own Gregorian chant backup singers to connote his Templar background).

Ratonhnhaké:ton does not sing but… he does hear the music.

If you want to turn this into a Hamilton crossover, go ahead. That means Ratonhnhaké:ton has to deal with Hamilton’s… everything whenever he has to talk to Washington XD

Whatever is making them sing sees Ratonhnhaké:ton as ‘part’ of the ensemble so you get scenes like Haytham singing a duet with Ratonhnhaké:ton but Ratonhnhaké:ton does not know the lyrics and would rather strip naked and run away from wolves all night long than sing.

The same thing happened to Charles Lee but Ratonhnhaké:ton was busy beating the crap out of him.

The whole confrontation with Washington, Haytham and Ratonhnhaké:ton ends with Haytham and Washington singing with some ‘dead spaces’ here and there where it’s clear that it was Ratonhnhaké;ton’s turn to sing.

The music in the homestead are always jolly (unless something bad happens) and they always include Ratonhnhaké:ton. Unlike the other times, they don’t try to make Ratonhnhaké:ton sing and Ratonhnhaké:ton just joins in the festivity more or less. Achilles takes the ‘I’m the grumpy one who doesn’t sing’ part in these musical numbers instead.

… Haytham definitely sang a very embarrassing love song that was meant to be a duet to Kaniehtí:io. Kaniehtí:io was amuse. Haytham was embarrassed.

Why are the colonizers singing? Isu BS. Apollo, Bragi and Meret got super drunk and fucked up the ‘latest’ batch of humans to be processed for shits and giggles. They ran away before Yaldabaoth saw them and he’s been so overworked that he just… didn’t give a shit and sent these batch as is.

#ngl #this gave me #the man who didn’t like musical vibes #might be because i just watched nerdy prudes must die XD #is this crack? #look i can’t write song lyrics and stuff #so just imagine them having banger songs #assassin's creed #ratonhnhaké:ton #connor kenway #haytham kenway #george washington #achilles davenport #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed #i'm not tagging hamilton #since we didn't say this was absolutely a crossover #i only suggested it

[lovearthur]

hi, first of all, your writing is MAGNIFICENT and so sweet! Could you write a scenario where young!Arthur and a young!reader do the first robbery together? Or she has a flashback of this memory while she is riding accompanied by Arthur!

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒍𝒂𝒘𝒔 (𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒈𝒏!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! gn!reader . reader loves annoying arthur . siblings robbing a homestead . arthur's that protective older brother . reader almost gets caught . based in 1883 . used red dead wiki so info might be wrong

first impressions can be strange. real strange.

the first time u met arthur, he was sitting in the saloon by himself, drinking some bourbon. u were staring at him, making the grand idea to steal from him! u were a street kid, so u always thought that u knew what u were doing, what could possibly go wrong? and yet, it did go wrong. he caught u. clearly weren't that good at stealing as u thought u were.

and now, u fit in within a small group of outlaws; u, arthur, dutch, annabelle, hosea, ms. grimshaw. luckily, u grew close with each of them but nothing could compare to the sibling bond that u and arthur share with each other.

he was always the grumpy one, u were the one to tease and rile him up quite a bit.

at the moment, ur doing ur absolutely best to convince ur brother than ur better than fine to do a robbery. alone. he always insisted that he came with but today u wanted to prove urself. to him and to the leaders of this gang.

“arthur- 'm gonna be fine! i know what 'm doin'. i can do it on my own jus' fine.” u gently protest with a roll of ur eyes. u knew he meant well but u did have a sort of experience to prove that u can fend for urself in case anything happens. he took no chance, stubborn as a mule he was. he always made u had a sort of protection, that protection that meant he's coming with u. if u like it or not. “that ain't how it works. 'm comin' with ya, y'never know what could happen when yer alone”.

he was always looking out for u. like a safe haven, since u knew that u could count on him for anything, no matter how... odd or strange. he always had the need to check up on u, making sure ur alright. he was more experienced with guns. u were better with knvies. although, he knew how to act quickly in tough situations.. u didnt, at least not yet. he was quick-thinking like that. even though arthur could be.. sarcastic and snarky, u knew he meant well. that's just how he is. ignoring his rough and rugged appearance, he was always kind to u.

“c'mon, trouble. let's get this done. wouldn't wanna get dutch upset.” he says as he begins to walk off to his horse, u got up to quickly follow him. “arth- wait up!”

okay, maybe u were glad that arthur came. if he didn't, who knows who would've help u out of this. u silly fool for almost getting caught.

u and arthur made the way up, down and around this house. getting any valuables u can find. to his dismay, arthur notices another man enter the home, presumably.. the owner of the home. he had a welcome home gift of some valuables missing. before he could react, the the owner went upstairs.

that's exactly where u were. in the master bedroom, looking around and picking up any gold expensives that caught ur sharp gaze. arthur knew immediately what he had to do.

in this present time, ur hidden behind a fancy wooden chair. arthur was looking at u from the doorway, doing his damn best to keep u calm and not let u freak out. even though, u felt ur heart racing in ur ears. ur gaze kept switching between arthur and the owner looking through his wooden drawers, noticing the missing items. u freaked out slightly everytime u heard a stern “goddamnit!” under the owner's breath.

u looked over to arthur who was thinking a small plan to get u out of there without being seen. not too long, he made a "come here" motion with his rough hand as he mouthed "slowly" as he kept his intense gaze on u. life or death situation, u listened. keeping low, u slowly made ur way over to arthur.

all of a suddenly, u took another step and the floorboards creaked. which made everyone stop, like the world stopped moving for a few moments. all that u heard was the stressful breathing of the owner. oh, u knew he was mad. who wouldn't be mad at finding out ur home is getting robbed? fortunately, the man stayed in the bedroom, which had arthur signalled u to continue ur way over to him. u took a few more quick steps and ur safe. after minutes of silence as u both made ur way out the robbery, he spoke. “now i really knew yer glad i came with ya.”

he says with a teasing chuckle which had him received a hit on the shoulder from u, he could be so- “shut up, arthur. we made it, didnt we?” u retorted back, rolling ur eyes once more as a smile creeps onto ur face. “jus' about. we mighta got nothin' if he heard ye creakin.'” he says with a shit-eating grin on his face as he gave a slight nod to ur words.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fanfic #arthur morgan and reader #divider credit to agsthv #arthur morgan x reader

[300yearschallenge]

Charles Elias sighed heavily and fiddled with the tool in his hand. Today he and Theodore were in the boathouse fixing up a rowboat so it would be seaworthy before summer.

"What's wrong?" Theodore paused and looked up at Charles Elias from across the boat. "That's the third time you've sighed in as many minutes."

"It's nothing," Charles Elias said, fidgeting slightly.

Theodore's expression softened, "Is it about Josef? I understand it must still be very hard on you."    

Charles Elias grimaced slightly. He almost wished it was.

He was sad about his uncle's passing, of course he was, but the truth was that it was not his grief that was gnawing on him.

He sighed again.

"Alright," Theodore sat up, putting his tools aside, "That's it. Tell me what's going on. Also don't touch the sharp side of that, you could cut yourself and get an infection."

"It's stupid, you shouldn't worry," Charles Elias said, putting his hammer away.

"Well, I do," Theodore said, "So please tell me. Whatever it is, I promise I won't judge."

Charles Elias hesitated slightly, chewing on the inside of his cheek, before he began to speak,

"It's about Laura. I… I accidently upset her a while back, and she asked me to leave her alone, and I have! I have..."

"So, then what's the matter?" Theodore said.

Charles Elias sighed, "I just don't know how to get her to like me now."

Theodore was silent for a bit, "Well… Does she need to?"

"What?"

"Does she need to like you?" Theodore said, "Us all living on this homestead still works, doesn't it? She's hardly spitting in your food."

Charles Elias frowned, "Well, no. I guess not. But…"

"But?"

"But, I don't know. Like I said, it's stupid."

There was a momentary pause, and then Theodore sighed.

"Look, in the years I've lived here I've only come to know Laura a little bit, but from what I can tell she's a flighty thing. You must understand that she's been woefully mistreated by some of the villagers. Either they view her as someone to be pitied, or someone to be ridiculed.

So she keeps to herself.

It may be she never comes to like you, merely tolerate you like she has me. And if that is the case, then so be it. There's just some people who won't like you--"

"-- I know that!"

"And," Theodore continued unfazed, "There's no point in dwelling on it. If she changes her mind some day then she changes her mind, and if she doesn't then she doesn't."

"But what if she hates me forever?"

Theodore shrugged, "Then I suppose Mr. Isak sends us both away and we have to find another place to live. It wouldn't be fun, but I'm sure we'd be able to find something."

Charles Elias pouted slightly and fidgeted again. It wasn't their job he was worried about. And it wasn't as if Charles Elias was unused to someone disliking him!

He wished he could make Theodore understand that it wasn't about any of that. It was about peace of mind. And guilt. And… and…

"Just focus on your job for now, and give Laura some time. You only just got here after all."

When Charles Elias opened his mouth to say something, Theodore continued, "Trust me, kid."

Kid.

A smile tugged at Charles Elias' lips.

He called him kid! Did he know? Was it just a saying? A statement of affection from mentor to mentee? Or…?

Laura all but forgotten, Charles Elias finally relented and grinned.

"Fine, fine," he said, "I'll take your word for it. Just this once, old man."

#300 years challenge #sims 4 decades #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 historical #olafssons #gen 4 #charles elias park #theodore tyrström #ts4 decades #ts4 historical #ts4 legacy #simblr

[finalmemes]

HELLRAISER roleplay sentence starters of the 1987 film. feel free to edit according to scenario / pronouns. tw: violence, death, murder, horror, cheating, torture, usfw.

what's your pleasure?

it's yours. it always was.

it's gotta be one of these.

i'm going to freeze to death.

it was just a suggestion.

this is it. the old homestead.

it smells damp.

it's been empty for a while, hasn't it?

how long since you were here?

i wanted to sell it after the old lady died.

would you look at this?

this stuff means nothing to me.

i've never known him to kick cash out of bed.

he's probably behind bars some place.

you really want to move in here?

we can be happy.

so what's the argument?

where are you?

there's stuff in the kitchen you wouldn't believe.

what the hell is that?

i thought you were going to stay with us for a while.

i'd really like you to see this house.

i gotta find myself a job.

this is something i need to do.

come on and trust me a little, okay?

call me tomorrow.

are you all right back there?

let's take five, guys.

how's things in there?

you got any beer?

you wanna buy a bed?

okay, all right, i'll be nice.

get on with grand work and i'll get myself some coffee.

well, can i come in or not?

do you have a towel?

what shall we drink to?

are you going to let me kiss the bride?

forget him.

i'll do anything you want.

you know me and blood.

i'm going to faint.

you're not going to faint.

it's going to need stitches.

it was just an accident.

we'll sue his ass.

i won't be able to stand up.

so lie down.

we're celebrating ... something. so sit down!

does it still hurt?

who are you?

his blood on the floor. it brought me back.

just help me, will you?

what do you want me to do?

you can't leave me like this.

the blood brought me this far.

i thought i'd lost you.

she's so damn polite.

she's uptight and frigid.

i beg your pardon.

you must have been speaking to the wrong people.

i was dreaming.

not much fun, is it?

there's a first time for everything.

i feel like i've known you for years, you know.

it's what you brought me here for, isn't it?

let's get on with it.

you're not going to change your fucking mind, are you?

we don't need a bed, do we?

i've always preferred the floor.

did you lock this?

every drop of blood you spill puts more flesh on my bones.

come here, damn you, i want to touch you.

come to daddy.

i'm feeling sick.

is there anything i can get you?

i'll be down in a minute.

it's only a matter of time before they find i've slipped them.

put on some music, will you, babe?

poor [ name ], obedient as ever.

keep your voice down.

you don't want "babe" to hear.

you'll stay with me.

we belong to each other now. for better, for worse.

you're gonna have to wait.

where's the manager?

what are you doing?

you give those back!

get out! get out of here!

just came by to see what you're doing after work.

you're sure we're not going to be interrupted?

it's a long time since i've tasted anything.

you promised me an explanation.

i thought i'd gone to the limits. i hadn't.

i'm going to leave and you're going to help me, yes?

they'll never find us.

what's the matter with you, anyway?

there's nothing to be afraid of.

i just don't understand you.

you love her, so there must be something worth loving.

it's like she's ... waiting for something.

could you ... would you stop by sometime?

maybe all she needs is somebody to talk to.

so, where's the harm?

i get lonely sometimes.

what is this? a game?

get the fuck off me!

there's nothing to be afraid of.

this isn't happening.

some things have to be endured.

you want it? fucking have it!

wait a minute, how did i get here?

you were hanging on to it like grim death.

well, the police will want to speak to you.

in the meantime, maybe this will jog your memory.

you opened it. we came.

it's just a puzzle box!

it is a means to summon us.

who are you?

demons to some. angels to others.

it was a mistake!

i didn't mean to open it!

you can all go to hell!

please, go away and leave me alone.

oh, no tears, please. it's a waste of good suffering.

no time for argument.

nobody escapes us.

what has that to do with you?

i can lead you to him.

we'll tear your soul apart.

she'll tell them everything.

that's probably her now.

it doesn't make any difference.

we can't just stay here.

i don't know where to begin.

what are you talking about?

what's the matter?

where is he?!

i was so afraid that something happened to you.

he's trying to kill you.

believe me, it's finished with now.

what's gone mean?

he was insane, baby. a mad dog. had to put him out of his misery.

jesus, what a scene.

i don't really understand myself.

i don't believe this.

we want the man who did this.

there's no time.

so much for the cat and mouse shit.

it's nothing personal, baby.

don't mourn him. he was dead long before we ever touched him.

we have to hear it from your own lips.

this isn't for your eyes.

you set me up, bitch!

jesus wept.

not leaving us so soon, are you?

we have such sights to show you.

go to hell!

let's get the hell out of here!

#horror sentence starters #rp sentence starters #rp memes #writing prompts #horror prompts #hellraiser sentence starters #film sentence starters

[zeb-z]

minecraft-sinfonia family in the Star Wars au, because brain worms never sleep

Chayanne is hardly a toddler in the crèche when the Jedi temple falls and the Empire is born. Phil saves him, cares for him, raises him as his own on a homestead after meeting Missa, far from the core worlds. He grows up learning to farm, to cook, to find his own resources and how to make do with what you have. He has no idea where he’s from - his records were sealed in a holocron along with the other younglings his age, and who knows where that is now. Not that it matters all that much to him - his family are his parents who have raised him, and later his sister.

Tallulah is also force sensitive, but was never picked up by the Jedi. She knows where she’s from - an outer rim dustball of a planet where she had no one but the other street kids, where they all had to eat dirt. According to Wilbur, who picked her up and took her in, she had been crying in the rubble in an ally, where a building had managed to collapse sideways into, somehow entirely unscathed, the only survivor. Now that she’s older, and has an understanding of her powers, she can guess she had used the force in some sort of subconscious survival instinct. She spent a good year or two with her father, before she had been dropped off during a visit to her “abuelo Phil”, and never picked back up. It’s another year before she starts calling Phil her Pa instead.

For a year after the fall of the Jedi, Phil travels with Wilbur, and tries to take care of a very young Chayanne as best as he can. He tries to make it easy on Wil as he can, but he know it can’t be simple, traveling with an ex-Jedi on the run and a force sensitive toddler who makes all the noise a toddler does. Whatever guilt he has is buried under the knowledge that this is safest. Staying in the wind, between the stars, without making a name or life for himself, is necessary until the panic around the Jedi dies down.

Phil meets Missa shortly after he parts ways with Wilbur, on some forgettable, relatively mild planet on the edges of the mid rim, in a town full of farmers and workers. He’s clearly lost, and exhausted, and struggling to find something he can afford to feed the hungry child in his arms, and Missa may not have much but for this he has a few credits to spare, and well - he just can’t ignore that feeling, tugging in his gut and wrapping around his chest, that’s pulling him towards the two strangers. Kindness has him buying them a meal and offering his home to them for the night, and when Phil asks if they can stay for just a while, to figure out where to go next, he says yes before he even processes the question. A little foolish, maybe, given the state of the galaxy, but Phil would be lost without that kindness.

Phil makes himself useful helping around the farm, feeding the growzers and nerfs, pulling weeds, planting new crops, at least when Chayanne doesn’t demand attention. Missa works as he always does, keeps them all fed, and looks up all the articles he can find about childcare - and then double checks with a few parents when they drop into town for market, because surely Chayanne isnt old enough to be eating full carrots yet, his teeth are just so small - that’s when he realizes he’s far more open to Phil and Chayanne staying around than he thought he was. It isn’t much longer until Phil comes to a similar conclusion, during a dinner like any other night before, where Missa had taken care to cut Chayanne’s carrots and had made a pot of tea that was Phil’s favorite (one he got based on a hunch back in town a few days prior), and he realizes that he doesn’t want to lose this. That he wants to stay.

After he finds that Missa himself is also force sensitive, and he comes clean about who he actually is, their life continues on without the idea that this just a temporary set up. They get officially married just before Tallulah comes into the picture, which gives Phil an official new identity to the Empire, from a legal standpoint.

Chayanne and Tallulah both grow up learning Jedi techniques to balance their connection with the force. They learn early on the extent of their powers and how to meditate. The better trained you are, and the more you know of your own powers, the better you can master self control - that’s what their dads say, at least. While Phil had been anxious when Tallulah first arrived - wondering if them knowing their powers would make them all more obvious to those hunting for them - it’s cemented when Chayanne uses the force in the market, floating a fruit from a street vendor towards him when he couldn’t reach it himself. They were extremely lucky he wasn’t noticed. Chayanne, with enough core memories in the temple, where using the force and connecting wasn’t only second nature, but was encouraged all around him, would only struggle if they pretended anything different. Besides - as much as they have to keep themselves hidden and safe from the Empire, the force was something to celebrate. They were never taught that their gifts were anything but special - it wasn’t them that was wrong, but the Empire for hunting them.

After their home is raided, and the kids go with Phil to the rebellion, separated from Missa, is when they learn to fight. Chayanne is extremely disappointed he can’t actually train to learn how to wield his dads lightsaber. Tallulah leans less into physical training, and gets a better handle at using the force to interact with the world. She learns a technique to help plants grow just a little faster, and a little stronger, and likes to help around the gardens and greenhouses. It makes Phil a little sad, but only sometimes - she would have loved the Room of a Thousand Fountains, had this universe been kinder.

When Missa manages to find them again, worn and weary and somehow with Phil’s lightsaber still intact and all his limbs attached, he joins the rebels cause and fights with his family. Phil insists Missa keeps his lightsaber on him, pretending like it isn’t as big of a deal as it is, saying he’s grown used to fighting without it - but Missa knows better. A lightsaber is a Jedi’s life, their being connected to their crystal that gives it power, the weapon an extension of themselves. He understands the significance, of Phil’s life humming in his hands, protecting him above all else. There’s an immense amount of love, of trust, in the decision. It makes Phil a terrible Jedi - giving up his saber by choice, for a familial attachment he should never have made in the first place. But who gives a fuck - the temple has long been gone, the Jedi and all their believers dead with it, and Missa is here in front of him, alive, unlike the fucking Jedi council, the merry band of hypocrites. He’d like to keep it that way.

Chayanne still gets Phil to train him with the lightsaber, and it’s the coolest thing ever of all time.

#thank you for coming to my TED talk. please keep asking me about them about anyone in this au to keep the speeches going lnfjsjfoaofjej #out of everyone they’re who I’m working on an actual fic for. them and etoiles #Also okay. listen I know growzers are like specifically native to celwis. a chiss world. if you also know this pls suspend your disbelief #sorry once again I don’t know brevity. take my word dump I hope you like it #mcyt #qsmp #sw #Star Wars #qsmp au #z speaks

[headspace-hotel]

Okay I was planning on staying out of it but this is painful to watch.

To be clear, OP was being very weird and didnt at all need to say that. But it seems like hald the people since then have just been trying to explain what OP mewnt and doing it horribly, because I do in fact get ehat thry were saying.

Theres been a bug movement with online fascists thats like "modern society is too urban (see: diverse). Weve gotten too far from how we traditionally lived, and were so out of touch with nature. Kids spend all their time inside or in the suburbs and never get to see real nature." And its all a recruitment tactic.

The Start of that pipeline is often just "huh modern scoiety is extremely out of touch with nature. Kids grow up without the experiences I had as a kid running around in creeks and stuff. Kids cant recognize plants." And most of that is true and it Is bad, but they then often make a very quick leap to "this is a problem with Society." And from there to fascist talking points.

And like, if you squint, you can very easily draw similarities between the very start of that pipeline and your recent posting.

Again, this is Obviously incredibly stupid and anyone who actually reads anything you post can see that. But like, I can at least see how, if someone is primed to always look only for fascist dog whistles, and one of your recent posts crossed their dash, if theyre not smart, they could arrive at that anxiety.

Everyone since then has just been dumb about it.

...Okay I'm thinking the "cottagecore" discourse has just rotted people's brains out here. I didn't realize it until now but "posting pictures of a basket of freshly picked strawberries is a fascist dogwhistle" really was a Thing on here a while back. Okay. That makes sense now.

I know about the "trad"/fascist-adjacent 'homesteading'/off-the-grid doomsday prepper attitudes. Where I live, being a 'homesteader' often goes along with stockpiling guns.

But these people's attitudes are individualistic, it's all about personally escaping the "Modern" world and living in The Wilderness(tm) somewhere and being "self-sufficient" (lmao). Kind of a manifest-destiny adjacent fantasy (gross)

This is where the "cottagecore" discourse brain worms did immense damage—no one wanted to explain why the individualistic, intrepid settler homesteader fantasy was a problem, so all the well meaning people on the margins of the discourse went "oh, okay, wanting to reconnect with your natural world and consciously participate in your local ecosystems is a fascist/colonialist thing."

I have multiple posts buried deep in my drafts about this somewhere that I was afraid to post, because I was met with the "google is free" stuff when I tried to figure out what was going on, and Google was entirely empty of any material explaining the (alleged?) fascist and colonialist roots of cottagecore.

It makes my brain hurt because yes, actually, I *see* how "homesteading" is sometimes related to white supremacist and colonialist shit, and the fascist and "cottagecore" communities do have an overlap that is not purely coincidental. That's real. It's not made up. But. A lot of people on the internet have learned to recognize fascist "dogwhistles" instead of learning to recognize fascist ideas.

A lot of the work of recognizing fascist-adjacent stuff in the wild does rely on developing a sensitivity to such "red flags." I've talked about things that I consider to be red flags, and I sometimes respond strongly to them. But—it's crucial that you understand that the red flags themselves are not what fascism is. You have to be able to see and recognize the actual harmful components of an ideology instead of deciding that any similarity, no matter how superficial, Is Fascism.

A lot of colonialist and fascist systems of thought have "relationships with nature and growing plants is good" somewhere in there, but the actual poison here comes in a few forms:

unquestioned romanticization of settling/colonizing an Untouched Wilderness

deciding that some kind of stable, inherent 'natural' state of human existence is always good, and 'unnatural' things are bad

modern society is decaying and degenerate, "traditional" values and lifestyles are better (enter romanticizing the past as a paradise of moral and racial purity)

Yes, there were statements in my post that looked superficially similar to some of these. No, those statements were not even remotely close to communicating the same things.

And "dogwhistles" are not about superficial similarity. If you learn about 'homesteading' as a white supremacist fantasy being a thing, and you jump onto a post talking about growing native species like "Oh look I've found a fascist dogwhistle!" You've misunderstood the assignment.

[camcanime]

Celebrate - In More Ways Than One

Another oneshot based on one of my dreams and one that took waaaaay longer to write than I would have liked but here we are I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope you enjoy!!

(Kirishima x Fem!Reader) ((and slight Bakugo x Reader))

As far as parties go, this one was going to be big. No one could have anticipated it being this lively but that's what happens when you make a lot of friends. In the beginning, anyone would have assumed that your graduation party would be segregated into each class of UA.

Nope!

Once the rivalry with class 1-B (and grievances with the other courses) had been diminished, there was no doubt that everyone would want to be a part of this together. It has been an arduous journey for you all but you've made it. You all made it. Now, everyone can enjoy the spoils of a well-deserved celebration. A big thanks has to go to Yaoyorozu and her family for lending her homestead for the afterparty. This should have been expected. Who else would have the space for this many people?

Nerves are becoming an undesirable companion for your poor self. The torrent of people is neither a problem nor the concept of mingling - that is all fine. No, the issue lies with you sticking out like a sore thumb. You assumed that there would be at least one other girl who would opt for trousers but they're all either in dresses or skirts. God knows you would have done the same but that sort of style has never been your thing aside from the compulsory uniform. It took trying on a full store's worth of fancy garments to realise that you best just wear what's comfortable. You're rocking a blazer jacket with matching smart trousers, the ensemble especially pops with the bright (f/c), laced camisole finishing the look. It’s a little snug in your opinion but a certain pink-haired friend of yours insisted that it shapes you perfectly. The blazer shall remain fixed on your shoulders, you think. Mina spent all of the previous day boosting your confidence and psyching you up like the queen she is but you can’t shake off those last remnants of worry. You're having a conversation with her when you notice Kirishima out of the corner of your eye and the skip of your heart isn’t something to ignore. Even you couldn't have predicted him looking as dashing as he does in that suit.

Mina leans over and whispers in your ear excitedly, "Now’s your chance! You gotta get over Bakugo, anyways."

Ah, yes. That whole situation. Over the years, you silently admired the explosive student and awkwardly pined for his attention. You had even attempted to make subtle advances on the guy but he just never took the bait. After so many missed shots, you eventually decided that it would be best to reserve your ammo lest you risk depleting your aching heart. It was only a matter of time before you ended up hanging out with his best friend more and, like some sick twisted fate, found yourself falling victim to those wretched butterflies again. If you had any doubts about having a type before, you don't now. Unwavering resolve, irrefutable strength, and a powerful dedication to becoming a hero? It doesn't seem to get much more attractive than that. 

"I dunno, Mina. 'You sure I'm not too... masculine in energy? I know Kirishima admires manly things but..."

Sighing, she just rolls her eyes and pushes you into him before darting off, giggling like a troublesome child. Cheeky bitch. You love the girl and understand that she's trying to help but her methods aren't always appreciated. Before you fall, Kirishima catches you and that jump of your stomach evolves into a stuttered sprinting when you gaze up at him shyly. Part of you wishes you had landed on the ground just to be saved from this embarrassment. Being met with the cold floor has never sounded more inviting. It's hard to tell in the lighting but it looks as though his cheeks are reddening as he's holding you. Dear God, you've made a fool of yourself, haven’t you? Scratch that. There’s only one person to blame in this and she’s run free from the scene like a coward. 

Kirishima eases you back up onto your feet and smiles, albeit a little teasingly. "What happened there, twinkle-toes? 'You okay?"

"Yeah, sorry,” laughing bashfully, you dust yourself off. “I must've just tripped on something."

Your attention darts around to get a clue onto Mina so you can send her a silent scream of aggravation for what she just did. However, it would appear that she has disappeared among the sea of students and you instead catch a glimpse of Bakugo, who has had his attention on you for a while now. When your eyes meet, he's quick to turn away, the expression on his face unreadable. That's happened a handful of times recently and you can't figure out why. Admittedly, you don't spend as much time together as you used to but that doesn't mean you've entirely withdrawn yourself from him. He is still a friend. Even with the unrequited crush in mind, you would never blank him. The last few months have been a different story but hitting the books has been everyone's priority in the lead-up to finals. 

A soft nudge to your side pulls you out of your contemplation and you are greeted with another one of those heart-melting smiles. "Good thing I was here to catch you, huh?"

You resist the urge to look away and giggle, "I guess it was pretty lucky."

Lucky your ass. A certain pink rascal will be paying dearly for this later.

"I love the outfit, by the way."

Thoughts of revenge slip away like a sinking ship and you slowly gawk down at yourself. It’s a lovely apparel, even you won’t deny that, but it hardly feels worth complimenting when one considers the array of frilly fabrics flaunting around your person. The flattering remark is meant in earnest and you try to keep that in mind, especially with him. He always means what he says, anyone knows that. As stated before: insecurity is an undesirable companion that lingers at your side, practically sewn to your hip. If only you could cut the tie and be rid of it. All you want to do is enjoy your graduation. Is that too much to ask?

You harbour enough strength to look back up sheepishly. "Really?"

"Of course!” His eyes widen with a confused smile. He can’t believe you wouldn’t think the same. “It really suits you!"

"Thanks." You manage to push past your nerves at least a little and grin. "Wanted to make sure I could dance, you know? S'not easy to bust out the full calibre of my moves in a skirt and heels." Oh yeah. You opted for flat shoes just so you wouldn’t risk stumbling over yourself like some schmuck. 

The two of you share a fond laugh and he holds a hand to the back of his neck. An unspoken tension writhes between you both when his gaze drops to the floor. Confidence is a fickle thing, fleeting away as fast as it had been regained. Those nerves prickle against your shoulders once more and you fear you may have sullied your image with the poor attempt at a joke. Taking compliments isn't exactly a strength of yours, so you're quick to deflect with silly responses.

"Well, seeing as you mentioned it, do you... wanna dance? I mean, I'm not very good but..."

Maybe you didn't come across as lame as you had initially thought. Luckily, at his time of asking, a particularly catchy tune is playing; one with a beat you are sure you can get into if you really want to. Might as well. Already making your way to the appointed dance floor, you gesture for him to follow. 

"Come on, then."

It takes a while but eventually, the two of you are dancing with no shame. At one point, you even slip off your blazer and unceremoniously throw it into the crowd, earning many cheers and calls of excitement from your peers. Any doubts about the mildly flashy top beneath your jacket have quickly faded, getting lost in the wildness of your beaming soul along with the music. There's that crazy energy he's fallen in love with. Watching you light up with such conviction is a sight that he relishes any time he is lucky enough to witness it. Whether it’s on the battlefield, during training sessions, or you passionately speaking about something you love, he lives for it. Amidst his fawning, everything around him blurs and soon vanishes. All of his focus is on you and how you manage to effortlessly succumb to having a good time. He tries his best to keep up but he would much rather admire you. Were it possible, he’d watch you for hours on end. The shine of your smile, the gleaming sparkle your eyes hold, how your hair bops side to side with every movement - the guy is unequivocally transfixed and hypnotised by the allure of your enjoyment.

Gradually, the fast pace siezes with a slow song and, unable to look at Kirishima, your eyes wander. Oh, this fucking girl. You can see Mina standing by the speaker, holding her thumbs up at you with a grin that would be contagious were you not writhing in loathing. She must think she's the hottest wing-woman on the block with these unwelcomed antics. Perhaps it’s high time you surrender to her shenanigans and let bygones be bygones. Besides, you can hardly pay much attention to her with your current circumstances. It’s time to face your fears and face the man beside you. When you turn to meet him, equally wondering how he feels about the situation, his hand is already outstretched towards you. As curious as you are, you won’t question how long he’s been waiting for you. Best not to test his patience either. It’s time to get your head in the game. Don’t mess this up.

No pressure. 

With a steadying breath, you oblige and take the offer, fingers gently landing in his palm. His clasp shut around yours and he takes a step forward. Given how resolute his bravery typically is, this moment would be considered comedic were you not just as terrified yourself. Now is the perfect opportunity for Mina to run in and push the two of you into each other. Thankfully, such a dreaded imagining of events doesn’t appear to come to fruition. Although, it’s as if she’s working some strange voodoo magic because you step closer and place a hand on his shoulder. This sudden daring threatens to recoil in fear of coming across brash but Kirishima’s hand on your hip stops that from happening. Those bright, red eyes shimmer with a determination you’ve only ever seen during your sparring sessions. The two of you share a shy smile before you allow yourself to rest your head on his chest. Content, you hum into the fabric of his tux, only hoping that the music is loud enough to drown it out.

Whilst swaying gently side to side in each other’s embrace, your pupils flick around, gazing over the beautiful twirls of elegant cloth that surround you. They’re gorgeous. Every one of them might as well be a princess suspended in iridescent clouding whilst you weep into the muddy ground like a peasant. With how glorious this longed-for moment is, you scold yourself for getting distracted by the heavy tug in your chest. Pulling away only slightly, your shoulders slump against the crux of your fragility. 

Kirishima is unfortunately very good at picking up on these things. "Something on your mind?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah… it’s just..." You contemplate throwing out some last-ditch excuse but decide against it and sigh. "It's gonna sound stupid but it just feels like this moment would look better if I was wearing a beautiful dress like all the other girls," laughing sadly, your gaze drops to your feet. "It'd probably be nicer for you, too."

A gentle pressure hugs your cheek and the warm hand guides your attention back to him. Eyes wide with worry, his brows turn up and his face is brought forward, foreheads almost touching. These actions alone draw out whatever breath you have left in your lungs and, with that soft stare of his, you forget how to breathe completely.

"You crazy or somethin'? I don't care about any of that. Sure, I bet you'd look amazing in a dress but this is you. It's about what you're comfortable in and I love that you can do that." The concern in his expression subsides, being replaced with a sheepish grin. "Besides, I reckon you're the most beautiful girl in this room."

The evidence is undeniable and, yet, your mind makes haste in excusing it for his kind nature. He’s likely just saying all of this to calm your anxiety. That isn’t Kirishima’s style but why else would he feed you such lovely words like this? Nagging, your inner voice piles lie upon lie to keep you from believing what’s right in front of you. You shake your head and prep your own voice for defiance but nothing comes out. By now, his forehead is pressed firm into yours and you pray that he can’t feel the flush of your suddenly fevered skin.

“Please, believe me,” he whispers and it’s as if the music aids his words, uplifting like a crescendo despite how quiet they are. “You’re stunning. Even if you don’t think it, I… I always have. I do.” His mouth clamps shut for a moment whilst he collects himself, negotiating his options, and then he speaks again, “You really are beautiful and I don’t know how else to say…”

He trails off with the piano’s cadence and this entire time you are starstruck. The raw emotion is palpable even in its softness. Kirishima edges ever closer to you, that shimmering grit blazing his crimson eyes like before. He’s usually strong with his words, having bellowed many motivational speeches for the benefit of his comrades but, at his core, he is a man of action. Hesitant breaths exchange with one another, blowing into one betwixt the little space between your lips. Your temptation to feel them pressed on yours urges you forward and is the clear sign that coerces him into making the jump. Violins sing, percussions crash, and then all fades into a multi-colour visage as you melt into each other. 

He took it. 

He took his chance and is soaring on cloud nine. 

In reality, the dream was much, much shorter but I just couldn't stop writing once I started. So many ideas kept coming to me. Speaking of...

BONUS:

Bakugo's eyes have been on you and his friend like a hawk for quite some time now. He's taken note of the awkward glances, your touch on Kirishma's shoulder when he makes you laugh, the way he smiles bashfully at you. This is hardly anything new. The two of you have been like this for the last couple of months now and it's almost enough to make him sick. Hell, you're even slow dancing with one another. 

"They're like a couple of love-sick puppies," he huffs to himself and leans back against the wall. "It's obvious they like each other. Just say something already."

"That's a little rich coming from you."

Of all the people to come and bug him, why did it have to be that dunceface? He's become more tolerable over the years but there's still a pinch of irritation whenever he has something dimwitted to say. The smug demeanour of Kaminari is almost enough to coax out a bark but, instead, there's a short moment of silence. 

Bakugo's glare narrows more so than before. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Come on! You mean to tell me you didn't know?" When that blazing scowl deepens, he continues, "Dude! (Y/n) had the biggest crush on you for, like, the first two years of U.A. I'm surprised our ever-observant Kacchan didn't pick up on it."

Kaminari is quick to make an escape when a threatening hand rises towards him. What does that sorry excuse for a spark plug know? He falls for any woman stupid enough to say hello to him. Bakugo's clenched fist slowly drops to his side and he goes back to watching you and the redhead. There's no way you had a crush on him. He would have noticed.

He would have acted on it. 

The majority of Class 1-A are good at picking up on when a fellow classmate is bewitched and hopelessly smitten: Midoriya and Uraraka are prime examples. It took those two idiots way too long to finally nip it in the bud and admit their feelings for one another. On the other hand, figuring out if Bakugo has ever become prey to such romantic infatuations remains a mystery to his peers. Eventually, everyone came to the assumption that he was too targeted on his goal of becoming the greatest hero to get distracted by such things. 

That couldn't be further from the truth. 

It started as a high level of respect, shifted into trust, maybe even adoration for a while, and then a strange sensation of euphoria when he'd see you. The whole "realising crush" period didn't hit him until you spent less time together. It dawned on him that he missed your company. How does that mushy saying go? Distance makes the heart grow fonder? Ah, whatever. Bad feelings weren't harboured. He had just put it down to you wanting to knuckle down for the third and final year of school. Then, about halfway through the year, you got closer to his friend. Kirishima has had it bad for you for a while now and it looked as though you'd fallen hard for him as well. A sharp disdain manifested when this turn of events materialised. Had you acted towards Bakugo the way you have been with Kirishima these last two months, he would have made no hesitation in asking you out. 

He's about to put it out of his mind, deciding it's not worth the trouble at this point, but those cogs start turning against his will. You did always put in the effort to make sure he was included, more than anyone else. Not to mention, your fingers used to fiddle with your hair a lot whenever you two hung out. Then there's taking into account the times he caught you and Mina whispering amongst each other, your face growing red when you'd catch his eye. A tightness burdens his chest as the memories start flooding. All of those little instances: the way you'd glance at him in moments of silence, how you'd always ask to be his study partner, the way your voice rose in pitch when he'd enter the room - it all comes crashing down on him like an ocean wave laced with shards of glass. How did he not see this sooner? Was he so insecure about his feelings not being reciprocated that he just subconsciously ignored you? At the very moment of realisation, his eyes re-focus, land on your figure once more and... you and Kirishima are kissing - a beautiful tragedy that burns a hole in his heart. Any opportunity he had of asking you out is long gone and out the window now. 

He lost it.

He lost his chance and is seething in a fiery inferno.

#bnha #mha #kirishima x reader #x reader #my hero academia #eijirou kirishima #eijirou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki #bakugo #bakugo x reader #but in an angst way #kirishima x reader x bakugo #these dreams are wild #great fun though

[in-need-of-gally-content]

|Chapter•Fourteen|

•|Masterlist|•

(M/n)'s eyes began to open when he heard a sound he rarely heard coming from Bark. Growling. He sat on the bed and rubbed his eyes, getting just a tiny bit concerned when the growling continued to get louder and more feral.

"Bark! Easy boy, it's okay-!" He started calling out to him out loud, making his way to the door and opening it, he definitely wasn't expecting the greenie to be standing there, an unsettling wide smile across his face, "Oh, uh... Hey there."

He tried to smile back but only a grimace appeared on his face. (M/n) was creeped out by this, maybe a little bit nervous and scared as well, but he decided to ignore it, playing it off as a joke.

"An early riser, eh?" All the response he got from the greenie was a nod, his smile did not waver once, and (M/n) was kind of hesitant about coming down, but at least Bark was there to protect him in case anything happened. In complete silence, he lowered the ladder and tied the top to the rail, barely taking his eyes away from the black-haired greenie.

He stepped down and reached his hand to pet Bark, soothing the tension in his body with his gentle touch on his fur.

"Okay, Bark, stay here, alright?" Obediently, Bark sat at the bottom of the ladder, guarding it, snarling at the greenie, "Well... Let's go."

Before he could take a step toward the Homestead, the greenie stood really close to him, making (M/n) almost trip as he tried to put some distance between them, "Good morning," his hand reached up to move a stray lock of (h/c) hair away from his face, making (M/n)'s skin get covered in goosebumps.

But not the nice kind of goosebumps he got whenever he was with Gally, these were... Disgusting. Rotten. Vile. He didn't like how the greenie's touch or proximity made him feel.

(M/n) began walking toward the Homestead, a futile attempt at getting rid of the greenie or forgetting what he just did, whatever it was that was happening right that moment, it made him feel uncomfortable, like really, really uncomfortable and unsafe.

It didn't matter how klunkheads were the other klunkheads, they never came to his room just to harass him first thing in the morning. (M/n) just wanted to find anyone, it didn't matter who as long as it was a known, friendly face, could be Mikah or Doug, even one of the Keepers, finding Alby or Newt would also be a great safe.

Certainly is, anyone other than the greenie and Sloppers could work as a friend, but he wanted Gally, he needed to find the blond-

"Oh," coming to a halt, (M/n) looked up from the solid chest he almost walked into, barely able to prevent his whole body from collapsing at the sight of Gally's presence so close to him.

The blond raised his eyebrows when he came face to face with (M/n), feeling a bit surprised since he was on his way out to go get him. And he definitely didn't like the sight of the greenie standing behind (M/n).

"Gally...!" Releasing a shaky breath, (M/n) reached to hold his hand, trying to walk further into the Homestead and somehow be able to shake the greenie off of him, "Hey, why don't you help Fry in the kitchen-?"

"That's not my assigned job for today, and you're my tour guide, you have to show me around," he argued quickly with a wide smile on his face, completely overlooking the fact that (M/n) had already shown him plenty around the Glade, he sighed and fully turned around to face the raven-haired male.

"Greenie-"

"Lucas," he was interrupted by his voice, watching with frightened eyes how he walked closer, invading his space as he had done minutes prior, "You can call me Lucas, doll," he lifted his hand to hold (M/n)'s face, and he was about to push the greenie away from him before be could touch him again, when Gally reacted.

He had a tight hold on the greenie's wrist, lifting his hand and moving it away from (M/n), taking a protective stance in front of him.

"Alright, shank, that's enough," (M/n) watched the scene closely from behind Gally, feeling helpless that he couldn't do anything to stand up for himself. Gally was always there to help and protect him. He felt... Like a burden, "You won't talk to him like that if you know what's good for you, understand? (M/n) deserves respect, not some little klunkhead trying to woo him."

"Gally..." He whispered, calling for the blond and holding onto the back of his shirt.

Even if Gally did acknowledge his presence and call, he kept his glare on the greenie, "(M/n) might be too nice to talk back to others, but I don't give a damn, greenie," Lucas' smile had finally begun to falter, an angry expression slowly morphing on his face, not backing away from Gally's intimidating stance.

"You're no better than I am, Gally," he spat his name with venom in his voice, as if mocking it, and (M/n) observed with panicked eyes how Gally's jaw clenched in retaliation.

"Guys, please-," he was now wrapping his hands around Gally's forearm and hand, trying to make him release the greenie, but right when the things were going to turn uglier, (M/n) saw Winston walking down the stairs, Clint and Minho following behind him, "Oh, guys!"

The three of them looked at (M/n) and smiled as a 'good morning' greeting, but they immediately noticed his panicked expression and the heavy tension between Gally and the new greenie, so they rushed their way down quickly.

"Hey, man, calm down," Minho held onto Gally and made him release Lucas' wrist, who had a superior look on his face. Clint quickly checked the bruises on the greenie's wrist, while Winston observed him closely, taken aback that the raven-haired male enjoyed pissing Gally off.

He seemed like a nice dude the night before, what happened in the last 12 hours?

"Doesn't look too serious, it'll probably get swollen so put some ice on it, greenie..." Clint looked at his face, deciding to stand in front of him when he realized he was having some sort of stare-down with Gally, "And don't cause problems with Gally, understood?"

Lucas simply grunted in response, and Clint patted his shoulder. (M/n) felt like he could finally breathe properly, and he made his way to Gally and Minho, the latter still holding onto the blond just in case.

"Doll?" Gally's body shifted as he tensed, trying to free himself from Minho's grip, but the Runner muttered at him to stay still. (M/n) looked over his shoulder, seeing Lucas approaching him again, and his fists closed instinctively, just to be ready if he did anything cheeky again, "Would you accompany me-?"

Winston interrupted him with a smile, his arm dropped over the greenie's shoulders, "Oh! I wouldn't eat if I were you, come on, you have a job to do, greenie~," (M/n) made eye contact with the Keeper of the Slicers, who winked at him and he almost burst out laughing, knowing how sadistic Winston could get when working, and how messy eviscerate an animal could be if done improperly.

And like that, not paying attention to any complaining he did, they left the Homestead, or more like Winston dragged him out and headed to the Blood House.

"Well... That happened..."

Minho slowly began letting Gally go, and he looked at (M/n), "Yeah, what exactly happened?"

(M/n) sighed and stared at Gally, watching how his frown was still prominent on his face, "It was-"

"I don't like that greenie," Gally locked eyes with (M/n), who was taken aback by the intense emotions he saw swirling in his green hues, "He won't cause anything but trouble here."

Even if he didn't want to say it out loud, (M/n) admitted to himself that Gally was right. He could only hope that the day would get better as time goes by.

//////

Some time after breakfast and before lunch, (M/n) had quickly made his way to the Homestead bathroom in the med room, feeling his full bladder emptying and bringing him relief.

Well, this couldn't have been the worst time for him to take a pee.

When he walked out after washing his hands, he saw Mike bringing in the greenie, whose fair complexion had turned almost greyish, clearing feeling sick as he was laid down on the nearest bed.

"Oh, (M/n)," he greeted Mike back with a nod, "Would you mind taking care of the greenie until Clint or Jeff come back?" He clenched his jaw and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What happened?" Mike scratched the back of his head and grimaced, probably remembering what happened.

"Well, Winston... He was really, y'know... Intense," (M/n) sighed and closed his eyes, assuming the greenie had a weak stomach and was sensitive to blood and visceral images, so he probably threw up the bile in his stomach.

He pressed his lips tightly together and groaned, "Okay, fine," Mike smiled and messed with his straight black hair as he left the med room, happy to not have to be one taking care of a sick greenie.

(M/n) made brief eye contact with Lucas and turned around to head back into the bathroom, ignoring his pathetic weak little groans to get him to come back. He grabbed the bowl kept under the sink and put some water in it, grabbing a small towel and soaking it in the water, before making his way back to the greenie.

"Doll...?" With gritted teeth, (M/n) ignored every word Lucas said, squeezing the excess water from the towel after placing the bowl down and folding it before placing it over his eyes, "Do-?"

"I'll be right back, greenie," he didn't intend for his voice to sound so gruff and cold, but he didn't mind it, especially when he noticed Lucas flinch in response.

He walked out of the med room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle from the fridge and an empty cup from the cabinet, and just like that, he went back.

Obviously, Lucas was just like how he left him, lying on the bed with a wet towel covering his eyes. He quickly uncapped the bottle and poured water into the cup, placing it in front of the bowl, just the right amount of space on the bedside table for everything to stay in place if precisely balanced.

"There's your water," (M/n) walked toward the couch and sat down, staying in complete silence, his sight locked on the open door, waiting for a glimpse of one of the Med-jacks. After what happened with Gally in the morning, he didn't want to be close to the greenie.

Even so, he had some hope that, after what Gally said, Lucas would get the message across, otherwise he didn't know what he would do.

(M/n) has no idea how long it's been since he sat on the couch by the door, but he had completely zoned out after two minutes, staring at a spot in specific without a single thought going on in his mind, and for a moment Lucas observed him, almost freaking out at the void he could see in his (e/c) eyes, he looked... Like a doll, sitting there totally still.

"(M/n)!" Clint's voice reached his ears, bringing him back as he remembered where he was. The blond was calling for him from outside the Homestead, making him frown and stand up, walking to the door, watching how Clint made his way inside, "Mike told me you were alone with Lucas and... I didn't wanna leave you alone for too long so I..."

He placed his hands on Clint's shoulder, making eye contact with him and taking a few deep breaths, smiling when the Keeper did the same, "It's okay, just breathe for a second."

Clint nodded and followed (M/n) into the med room, Lucas was in the bed, only he had managed to sit up and was resting against the headboard.

"So, what happened?" Clint asked as he checked on the greenie's condition.

"Winston," was all (M/n) said in response, making Clint hold back a snort as he backed away.

He simply put the towel back in the water and squeezed it before handing it back to Lucas, "Well, there's no need to take care of him, (M/n), he'll be fine sooner or later, you can go," (M/n) smiled and headed to the door, walking out toward the front door, "Oh, Gally was looking for you!"

Clint yelled from inside the room, making him chuckle, "Thank you!" He yelled back and went outside.

Unfortunately, on his way to Gally, he walked passed many Sloppers, hearing their comments and dismissing them.

(M/n) knew better than anyone that Gally wasn't going easy on him during their fight the night before, he never did- never would, but it still made him feel mad that, no matter what he or Gally did, there would always be someone that makes degrading comments about him, and how girls should demonstrate a more ladylike, feminine and girly behavior.

Made him wonder how the Builders were considered the "airheads" or dumb ones when it was clear as day who were the ones lacking in the brain department.

Sighing deeply, he decided to jog his way to Gally and the rest of the guys.

//////

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful, and by the time dinner was called he was falling asleep standing.

Gally wasn't lying when he said he would suffer the "Builder Experience", and that involved doing the hardest job at the time, whether it'll be carrying logs, working as a human ladder or step tool, holding an entire structure together with rope and ivy while waiting for it to get nailed, and the one thing that never wavers, Gally's heavy stare.

Although (M/n) had an idea that he was being a rougher Keeper than usual because he was the new guy, and... Because of the whole Captain Gally thing. However, working that day wasn't as exhausting as he knew it could get, so he was glad, but according to Mikah and Kurt, this whole "trial" would last roughly a week.

The good thing about all of this was that the greenie wasn't bothering him, and he hoped it would continue like that, for now, Lucas was spending time with Zachary and a few other guys. Mostly guys who spoke shit behind his back and looked at him with a condescending stare, which he didn't like but not like he could do much about it other than ignore them.

Dinner was quiet at the table he sat, slowly eating his food while trying to stay awake.

"Yeah, she's so weird," he stopped mid-chew when he heard the not-so-subtle whispers of two guys walking behind him to drop their empty plates off. (M/n) shrugged it off and continued eating, slightly looking up at the sight of movement ahead of him.

Getting more food in his mouth, he reached his free hand to place it over Gally, who was frowning and glaring at the Gladers who commented about (M/n). Gally glanced at the hand on top of his before looking at the owner of said hand.

(M/n) shook his head silently, telling him it wasn't worth the effort. They had a silent conversation, with Gally trying to tell him why it was so important that he went there and talked some sense into their brains, while (M/n) responded that nothing would change if he didn't do anything by himself.

... Yeah, he probably had to be the one to stand up for himself, and not have Gally do it instead. Only time would tell if speaking up for himself against the comments and threats would work in his favour or not.

Well, in the end, Gally ended up sitting on his spot, but he made sure to glare extra hard at the two guys when they came back to talk to their friends, making them flinch and coward in themselves.

At least, the rest of their time eating was spent rather peacefully.

"Ugh, am beat," (M/n) groaned as he walked out of the Homestead, standing by the entrance as every few minutes, they would see another Glader walk out and head to their respective hammocks.

"Well, there's not much left to do tomorrow, just don't stay awake too late," Gally lifted his hand to mess with (M/n)'s hair, chuckling when the male groaned and gently slapped his hand away, "Good-,"

He stopped talking when he made eye contact with Lucas, who quickly looked away and pretended to talk to someone, which didn't work because there was no one near, so he played dumb and acted as if he was fixing his hammock, which was already done.

Even if he tried to hide it, he was acting suspicious, and Gally remembered the little stunt he pulled in the morning.

"Actually..." He took a couple of steps in the direction of (M/n)'s treehouse, "I'll take you to your room," he tried to show an innocent smile toward him, but it only made (M/n) frown at him, confused.

"Why?" Despite his questioning, he began making his way to his room, feeling just a little too tired to really argue with Gally.

The blond shrugged and hummed, matching (M/n)'s pace to walk next to him, "Just feeling kind," he softly nudged his side with his elbow, making the (h/c) haired male chuckle.

For a moment, (M/n) wanted to believe what Gally said, but he briefly made eye contact with the greenie, who smiled at him but flinched when his gray eyes looked at his side. At Gally.

He huffed and simply ignored both guys having a staring contest.

"Oh- (M/n)!" Gally called his name and jogged after him, "Hey, you left me~," he said with a playful tone, wrapping his arm around (M/n)'s shoulders.

He looked up at the blond who had a smile on his face, the glare gone from his eyes, replaced by cheerfulness, but then he realized (M/n)'s expression.

"Something wrong?"

A sigh was his only response for a few seconds, as they continued walking to the treehouse, until he finally said something, "It's just..." He placed one hand on the ladder, the other one reaching down to pet Bark, and his sight kept shifting from Gally and the ground, "You defend me too much, Gally, and I'm not saying that's a bad thing, but... The others..."

His voice trailed on, and Gally didn't need to hear more, he was aware of how, no matter what he did, other Gladers just kept bothering (M/n) daily, some days being worse than others. Gally was painfully aware of how one bad comment could ruin your whole day, so he didn't blame (M/n) for saying what he said.

"So..." He leaned against a nearby tree, his hands in the pockets of his pants, "What should I do?"

(M/n) looked up at him and a small smile showed up on his face, glad that Gally wasn't freaking out at his words, "Just... Let me speak for myself, I know I can."

Gally closed his eyes and frowned for a moment before sighing and pushing himself away from the tree.

"Fine, you win, I know how rough and tough you are, but..." He placed his hands on (M/n)'s shoulders and stared into his eyes, "I'll always be with you if you ever need backup," both of them smiled and laughed, nodding in agreement at Gally's words, and sealing the agreement with (M/n)'s hug.

Gally was caught off guard, but he immediately reciprocated the hug, basking in (M/n)'s closeness and warmth, feeling his heart flutter and face heating up.

"I will miss having you as my knight in shining armor though," his words were said between chuckles, making Gally roll his eyes with a shy smile at being called his knight, his hand messing (M/n)'s hair once again to prevent him from seeing his face, "Ugh, stop that, that's mean," unfortunately, (M/n) backed away with his hands on his hair, trying to fix it as he looked at Gally, "Good night, big guy."

"Sleep well, dummy."

#gally x reader #gally x y/n #gally x male reader #the maze runner x male reader #the maze runner #the maze runner x reader #tmr gally #gally the maze runner #gally maze runner #ftm reader #trans reader #trans #will poulter #will poulter x reader #will poulter fanfiction

[conditionaljewel]

(Headcanon content; disabled!Laudna, alternate timeline, canon divergent. No beta, we live and die like Bor’Dor on this one. I just needed to bring her to life. This is just one iteration. There will be others. Thanks for indulging.)

It’s early. Or it’s late. They weren’t quite sure. It’s definitely night, that much is certain.

There’s a light rain falling, harder in the treetops but mitigated as it falls here in front of the tiny porch adorning this small cottage. There’s a single lantern lit on the table that’s fixed between two wicker rocking chairs, with the chair on the right closest to the front door occupied by one of the two women who own this home.

As Laudna sits there, she holds a hot cup of coffee between her hands in front of her face. Her feet are propped up on a wooden stool directly in front of her, crossed at the ankle, right over left. She has a leg brace on her left leg, from her thigh down to her ankle, and there is a cane resting against the side of the table to her right.

The door behind her opens, and Imogen emerges holding her own cup of coffee. She closes the door, leaving just a slight crack, and crosses the porch to her own seat adjacent to Laudna. Before she settles into her seat, she reveals two blankets that she had clutched against her chest. She unfolds one and spreads it out, sprawling it over Laudna’s lap and covering her legs and feet. She then duplicates the act as she sat down, kicking her feet up into the stool positioned nearest her chair and covering up with her own blanket.

(Cut for length, rest below!)

Laudna raises her mug in the air in Imogen’s direction, as Imogen returns the kindness. “I love you,” she says into Laudna’s mind, not breaking the auditory experience provided by the rain still slapping the trees and falling through to the garden surrounding their homestead.

“I love you,” Laudna telepathically responds. She blows her a kiss across the small gap between them, and as Imogen mimics receiving it, they each take another sip of their coffee.

A flash of lightning brightens the area, even through the heavy tree tops. One, two, three… and then the bang of thunder overhead.

“This storm is beautiful,” Imogen says aloud.

“It is,” Laudna concurs. After a moment of silence, she offered a question. “Do you know why I like storms so much?”

Imogen turns her sights from the garden over to Laudna, watching as she sips from her mug before responding, “They remind me of you.”

“Oh?”

“Well, I like thunderstorms because they’re mesmerizing, they’re refreshing,” Laudna says as she turns to look at Imogen now. “But they’re also powerful and can be destructive and unpredictable, and loud.“

Laudna takes another sip as Imogen just looks at her, slightly confused. That’s when Laudna adds, “And well, I like you because amongst other things you are also all of those things, in the best of ways.”

Imogen smiled and blushed. “Oh, Laudna,” she started before she was interrupted by another bang of thunder.

Laudna just continues to stare into Imogen’s eyes as she smiles. Imogen tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she bashfully looks away. They’ve been together for years, dating for half as long, yet Imogen still feels the butterflies like it is the first day, every day. And oh she loves Laudna for it.

“Thank you,” Imogen finally says as she extends her hand out over the table. Laudna reached hers out in reply and grasps onto Imogen’s, holding it for a moment and giving it a compassionate squeeze.

The two continue to sit there as the storm presses on, not letting up. They’ve lost complete track of time, not that it matters to them. They don’t have anywhere to go except bed.

“Is your leg feeling okay,” Imogen asked Laudna after a short while.

Laudna had been struggling for several weeks with a severe injury to her leg that just wouldn’t heal. She finally had gone and seen a doctor in the last few days, and the reason the girls found themselves here at this late hour tonight was because Laudna was still processing the news that the Doctor had provided: her leg was so severely diseased from the attack that only a truly divine spell could potentially cure what caused her disability.

As such, she was still making peace with her new reality, processing all that having a mobility issue and dealing with chronic pain and a physical disability now presents to her. It had only been a few days since the Doctor provided her with the brace and cane she was now using regularly.

“I suppose I’m alright,” Laudna admits. “It was difficult at first; certainly, worrying. But, all considered, there are worse things in life and unlife”

“Oh I know,” Imogen says. “I’m sure it’s scary and overwhelming. Just… are you okay, like, right now? Can I do anything?”

Laudna looks over at Imogen and gives her another warm smile. “Oh, darling. You’ve done plenty for me already. I am okay, honest.”

Laudna gives her a wink as Imogen smiles weakly. She still feels a bit of pity for Laudna, first having dealt with death — twice — and now suddenly having a life changing injury thrust into her, it just wasn’t fair. But that wasn’t for her to question, they simply could only work with the cards they were dealt.

“You would know if I were lying, Imogen.”,

Imogen’s face relaxes as she responds to Laudna in her head, “I know.”

“And if this is permanent, well that’s alright too. I’m alive, aren’t I?” Laudna downs the last of her coffee and places the mug down beside her on the table. “Besides, becoming disabled isn’t the worst thing that could happen to someone.”

Imogen chuckles, recalling another time Laudna referred to something as not being the worst thing that’s ever happened to her.

“You’re right,” Imogen says as she places her mug down next to Laudna’s. She sweeps another strand of her out of her face and behind her ear. “I just want you to be happy, Laud.”

“Oh, but I am happy, Imogen. I have you.”

Imogen beams at hearing this, not expecting it in any capacity, and her heart flutters over a few beats.

The two of them sit there for a little longer listening to the end of the storm as it leaves the area. Drops of rain continue to fall from the treetops as the wind blows by up above, rustling the leaves just as much as the nightlife does as they begin to emerge from their shelters. Hooting from owls and the skittering of raccoons can be heard overhead as the girls just take in the sounds of nature all around them.

“Shall we get some sleep,” Imogen asks Laudna through a powerful yawn. Laudna had been resting in her chair with her eyes closed, popping one open upon hearing Imogen’s question. “I suppose we should.”

Imogen gathers up her blanket in one hand before collecting Laudna’s, bundling them together underneath her arm. As Laudna gathers herself and prepares to get up onto her feet, Imogen reaches a hand out in aid to her. Taking it into her own, Laudna clutches her cane in her right hand, grasping onto the plain dull black wooden handle, and after a count of one, two, three, she rocks herself forward and up into a standing position.

As Laudna gathers her bearings, Imogen collects their mugs from the table and blows the lantern out. Laudna opens and holds the door for Imogen as she walks inside first, heading straight to the kitchen with their empty mugs. Laudna closes and locks the door and waits for Imogen by the stairs. Just as quickly, Imogen emerges from around the corner and gives Laudna a kiss on the cheek, still clutching the blankets.

“Go ahead darlin, I got you if you need me,” Imogen says as she gestured towards the stairs. Laudna carefully took to the stairs, cane first then one foot and then the other, repeating the process one step at a time. Perhaps with time she’ll regain some speed and dexterity, she thinks to herself, but for now she’s focused on this reality and the next step ahead. Literally and figuratively.

It takes a minute or two, but Laudna makes it up the stairs without issue or the need for Imogen to assist her. They both head down the hall toward their bedroom, this time Imogen leading the way and letting Laudna go at her own pace, taking advantage by preparing Laudna’s side of the bed first.

After helping Laudna remove her brace and get comfortable in bed, propping her leg up on a pile of pillows, Imogen turns down the lanterns on each of their nightstands and crawls into bed beside her love. Laudna extends her arm and invites Imogen in to cuddle with her as they fall asleep. Imogen drapes her arm over Laudna, her hand resting on Laudna’s clavicle and neck, as Laudna holds her in one arm while the other rests across her own torso holding Imogen’s arm.

“I love you,” Imogen says out loud this time.

Laudna rubs her arm affectionately, and replies “I love you too.”

Imogen strokes the side of Laudna’s face as she lays there, prompting Laudna to kiss Imogen on the crown of her head. Imogen buries her face in Laudna’s chest.

Rain begins to fall again and hit the window pane from the outside; and as another low rumble of thunder is barely heard overhead, Laudna and Imogen close their eyes and drift off to sleep.

#disabled!au #disabled!laudna #cane user!laudna #disabled!cr #critical role headcanons #no main tags #well Idk #fuck it #imogen x laudna #Imogen #Laudna #southern gothic #headcanon #disabled headcanon #disabled hc #disability headcanon #disability hc #disabled au #imodna

[teecupangel]

Desmond Miles, whenever he puts his goblin raccoon hands on a PoE:

Random Templar (and Bill), who has done this dance before but never ceases to be very disturbed by it:

Shawn and Rebecca on the background:

This is what happened, right? Lol

The Desmond eats his problems away idea.

Absolutely.

Desmond always looks the Templars and Assassins dead in the eyes as he eats their precious POEs.

From @halfpintofanxiety

I’m sorry I’m gonna need an ancestor reaction

Altaïr: (stares as Desmond eats a memory seal and another. And another… and another…)

Desmond: This is usually the point where you tell me to stop while looking disgusted.

Altaïr: … Is it only precursor artifacts that you can eat or can you eat anything they’ve made?

Desmond: … like a statue or something? I licked this precursor tower thing in Ireland once?

Altaïr: But you’ve never eaten any pillar or walls, right?

Desmond: Are you… are you asking me if I can eat the entire temple underneath Alamut?

Altaïr: Don’t you want to try?

Desmond: …………… Sure.

Darim: NO! NO EATING OF BUILDINGS!!!

===============================

Rodrigo: No! You will not take this-

Ezio: (punches Rodrigo and takes the staff from him)

Rodrigo: What do you plan to do to it? No matter where you hide it, we will fin-

Ezio: (hands Desmond the staff) Oh?

Desmond: (crunch crunch crunch)

Rodrigo:

Ezio: Try finding it now, cazzo!

===============================

Washington: Take it! (gives the Apple to Ratonhnhaké:ton) Take it from me. I do not want it!

Ratonhnhaké:ton: No man should possess a power so absolute.

Washington: Sink it into the sea. Weight it and sink to the bottom-most reaches of the ocean!

Ratonhnhaké:ton: I know of a more permanent solution…

(back in the homestead)

Desmond who has been busy taking care of the logistics to make sure all caravans and shipments will be on time: (sneezes)

#desmond eats his problems away #they say you sneeze when someone talks about you #ezio and ratonhnhaké:ton will definitely use desmond as their poe-version of a paper shredder #altaïr is the dumbass who does stupid things FOR SCIENCE #assassin's creed #desmond miles #altaïr ibn la'ahad #ezio auditore #connor kenway #ratonhnhaké:ton #yeah #rodrigo borgia #george washington #darim ibn la'ahad