#someone called them gay frogs and EXACTLY

[thebrottenthusiast]

Party Brotters in the house with brott headcanons.

Warnings: ANGST, brick has self worth issues, scott has PTSD, mentions of suicide (don't worry it's not for brick or Scott)

Individual hcs:

Brick:

I fluctuate on his sexuality because on some days I ship jo and brick (*gasp*) he's either gay or bi but I lean towards him being days more

Brick's dad committed suicide when he was young (about 9) so he feels a lot of pressure to be the man of the house and being perfect. He also wonders if he could've noticed his dad's suicidal behavior earlier, because in brick's mind, if he had just been a little more attentive, maybe he'd still be here... His mom always reassures him about it, but brick can't help but stress over the what ifs.

I imagine brick places his self worth on the amount of people he can help, so when his service isn't needed or backfires and does something bad, he can feel a little useless at times. His cadet code always told him to be of use and service! But If he isn't of service or his service ruins everything, than what use does he have, really? :'(

Brick has a younger sister named Lily who is about 7. Brick tries his best to be in her life, even if he is a little overbearing because he wants to be the positive father figure that was taken from him so bad for Lily.

Brick never had any real friends as a child, and was always regarded as the scapegoat to other children. Brick did notice behavior, but went along because he wanted friends. After all, if his service made others happy, that's what mattered the most, right?

Brick got his dog tags at his dad's funeral. He couldn't see his dad's face lifeless even though he knew his mom needed him. Brick has hid himself behind the funeral home and began to cry. Which is when he noticed another kid, who was out here to get away from all the crying noises and told brick to "stop crying like a goddamn baby". This just made brick cry even more. The boy handed brick a pair of dog tags he snagged from his pappy. He said that bricks dad had given it to his pappy in the army, and pappy wanted to return the favor and put it in his coffin. After that, the boy left and he never saw him again. Brick still remembers the day vividly and he hopes to find that same boy and thank him for his service.

Brick has those really loud dad sneezes that you can hear across the world. It has freaked out Jo at least more than once.

Brick also snores like a dad.

Amazing driver. Like near perfect aside from the fact he has shit music taste (that's what Jo said) and played Taylor swift on full volume when Jo (Jo absolutely despises Taylor Swift) was in the car. He never recovered.

Friendly rivals with Jo. She still calls him mean nicknames from time to time, but he gets her back by playing "shake it off" in the car or by getting her morning coffee at Starbucks with an ungodly amount of sugar added

Brick plans on making military styled clothing mainstream and donates to veteran organizations with the money he makes.

Brick likes frogs.

He also knows first aid.

He and Anne maria are best friends and go shopping from time to time. Anne maria will fight someone if they insult brick. She also tells the cash register when they got his order wrong. ("HEY! He asked for NO PICKLES!")

Scott:

Scott is bisexual. Send tweet.

Alberta is his younger sister who is about 13 years old. Despite their constant squabbling, Scott cares very much for Alberta and tries his best for her not to end up like him.

Scott's parents are not exactly the best, but they do try their hardest to be good parents.

It might not look like it, but Scott actually likes to read. Normally you'd find him reading some of his pappy's guidebooks or his mom's cookbook, but you also might see him reading one of Al's cheesy romance novels under a playboy Magazine from time to time.

You wouldn't expect it from a guy who glues loonies to the floor, but Scott surprisingly artistic and has a keen eye for detail.

He never had friends and never wanted them. Never wanted them until after ROTI, which had isolated Scott from anyone who had ever wanted to give him a chance.

Scott's fear of sharks eventually formed into a fear of water overall. Because of it, he has a hard time trying to go near water and has to be practically dragged by his pappy to take a shower. He's scared that Fang will pop out of nowhere and finish the job for good. It's gotten better though, at least he can actually wash his hands without flying into a manic breakdown.

He also has a hard time getting sleep because of his PTSD and constantly gets nightmares of him and Fang

Scott's hand often trembled as a kid and only worsened after ROTI, which is when he took up whittling. He'll often whittle something simple like a bird or maybe even Al. (or maybe that cute cadet guy who seems weirdly familiar)

When he was a kid, Scott and his family went to a funeral for one of his pappy's army buddies. Scott couldn't stand all the crying, it made them easy targets, but it was really annoying. So when he went outside to escape the crying noises, you can imagine he wasn't too happy to find some kid crying his eyes out. And he only made things worse by telling the kid to "stop crying like a goddamn baby". So in a desperate attempt to stop the kid from crying, Scott gave him a pair of dog tags he snagged from his pappy. The kids dad had given it to Pappy when he was in the army, so pappy came to return the favor and put them in the coffin. Scott was originally going to sell them, but he thought the kid needed it more than he did. Scott got a real mouthful from his parents after they found out he was going to sell it, but to him it was worth it in the end. After all, what use would the damn thing have buried with some dead guy? Scott still thinks about the boy from time to time. Scott hopes that he's okay somewhere.

The reason why Scott is fine with eating nasty food like dirt is because I imagine his family was very impoverished and had little to eat, so he had resorted to eating dirt as an alternative so that there was more for everyone to eat.

Aside from whittling, I think Scott likes to do origami with his dad's leftover newspaper.

Scott and Zoey made up after all-stars and he apologized for manipulating her in ROTI, while she had apologized for taking Mal to the finale after learning that his family is impoverished.

Him and Mike on the other hand? Tension is still there between those two. Mike tolerates Scott for Zoey's sake, but he's not afraid to smack some sense into Scott anymore.

Scott still keeps in contact with Courtney. They're on good terms.

Relationship Headcanons:

Dumbass x "oh no that's my dumbass" (it goes both ways for the both of them)

T4T swag

Scott fell first, brick fell harder.

The idea of Scott falling first is so hilarious to me bc Scott's first response is to go to Courtney and he's just like "oh my God Im in love with the guy I just tried to frame for stealing holy shit holy fuck, what do i do?" And Courtney's like"of course I have to help you, Scott! Besides, as a CIT I underwent extensive training for this!" So she suggests to give Brick a gift and in classic Scott fashion gives brick the piss shoelace ring he gave to Courtney.

Brick however, is genuinely touched by this and decides to return the favor by giving him a bunch of forget-me-nots ("They match your eyes." He says). Outwardly, Scott is aloof and just replies "whatever" and then five minutes later he's rolling around Courtney's apartment and squealing like the loser he is and Courtney's like " Holy shit i've created a monster."

So some time passes and brick notices he starts to feel weird. Mainly around Scott. His cheeks light up, his stomach feels fluttery, and he gets all shy. So brick being brick immediately assumed he's dying up until Anne Maria suggests that he's in love.

So now brick's even MORE confused because who on earth would he be in love with?? Jo?? It's not until he looks at Scott's piss ring that he realizes he's in love with him and Anne Maria's like "WHAT"

They both confess their feelings at the same time.

Scott has a bunch of little cousins and they all flock to Brick when he comes around. Scott isn't sure how he does it.

Brick does scott's nails.

Scott is a horrible dancer. Lucky brick is always there to lead him.

Brick's the big spoon most of the time because he likes the feeling of 'protecting' Scott.

Scott's the one who hogs the blanket though.

Where Brick likes to kiss Scott: his hand, his scars, his forehead.

Where Scott likes to kiss Brick: his neck, his cheek, his lips.

Scott gets insecure of his scars so sometimes Brick will just hug him from behind and kiss his scars. Scott loves this (he always denies this of course.)

When Scott gets a nightmare, he will lay himself down on brick's chest to feel his heartbeat and brick will run his hand through Scott's hair and maybe hum him a little tune.

When Brick gets a nightmare, Scott tries to do the best he can but he's not really a people person so he just tells brick everything's okay.

How people reacted to their relationship:

Zoey's shocked at the reveal of their relationship but eventually comes around. She's mostly just worried about if Scott's going to manipulate brick into doing something bad.

Mike is not pleased. Why would a good guy like brick go for someone like Scott? He tries to stay open minded for the sake of Brick and Zoey, but it still feels weird to him. When asked why by Zoey, he replies "trying to frame someone for stealing is NOT a love language" he comes around in the end though, but not after lots of reassurance from Zoey.

Jo does not care, she doesn't need to hear more lovey dovey stuff about Scott from brick. She still supports their relationship, just doesn't want to hear about it.

Anne maria thinks Brick can do better. Seriously, brick could get any guy he wants, why settle for the dirtboy? Regardless, she's still supportive.

Lightning don't judge

Dawn knew about them the whole time and was just sitting in the corner watching it all unfold. She had a bit of doubt in Scott but as time passes she knew he would find his way.

Courtney is ultimately happy for them. When Courtney noticed the similarities between her and Duncan and Scott and brick, she couldn't help but feel nervous that it would just be another repeat of their relationship, but when things start to unfold, shes happy that Scott found someone that made him happier than she did.

@totaldramararepairweek2023

#td brick #td scott #brott #total drama #total drama brick #total drama scott #total drama rarepair week

[chickensoupleg]

Needed to get the murder out.

TW: Vehicular Homicide

--

For a second, time stood still.

Steve remembers the before, the feeling of his love’s hand in his own.

It fits… perfectly. The way Billy’s hand doesn’t stay still until Steve’s got him. Rough callouses from working in the guts of cars, the funny way the back of his hand was shaved but his knuckles weren’t.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe if…

Steve knew the risks, being a gay man in this day and age. Knew Billy was hesitant about it at all stages. Billy wanted to love in secret, where no eyes roamed.

He loved hard. Billy was always headstrong, pushing himself into Steve’s space every chance he got. Even before they even called each other ‘mine’, Billy would dig a hole in Steve’s chest and never leave. It was just covered in the smell of testosterone and sweat. Nobody would think twice about a slap on the back, rubbing up against each other in a riotous game of basketball, shoving at each other at a particularly great joke. Now it was a hand grabbing at the back of his head, shoving him deep, a leg coiled around his when the day turned into night, lips muttering nothing and yet everything at the same time into the crook of his neck with alcohol through both of their systems.

Steve, on the other hand, he loved like the wind loved the trees, dancing and making the whole world know where he stood. Every girlfriend before his first real boyfriend knew he was outwards with his love. Swung them around, lingered as close as possible, took them and paraded them around town like everything was okay.

Steve couldn’t help but be a man of habits. Couldn’t help trying to pull his shy boy out into the sunlight, twirl him around and show him to the world.

The world wasn’t ready for them.

He doesn’t know what caused it.

He knows exactly what caused it.

Despite the rumours, despite the looks his once girlfriend now okay friend gave him, despite what everyone says about him when he is handed another average C in school, Steve isn’t stupid.

It’s not his fault he’s no A streak student. Steve wasn’t the type to care what letter was printed on his report card even if he worked as hard as he could, it was not like he had anyone to show it to, to get a ‘well done son’ or ‘look at you!’ from someone.

But Steve knew people. Being on the top meant he had to protect it, once upon a time. He got up there because he knew what people wanted from him. Even if he couldn’t do one thing, he knew what he could do.

So he knew what some people might think.

He knew Billy was always hesitant to head home, always happy to follow behind the BMW and insert himself into anything that wasn’t bringing him back into the clutches of his father.

Steve made as many excuses as possible to pull his partner into a dance away from the exorcist.

Billy’s father wasn’t the kindest. Wanted a son that wasn’t what Billy ended up. Called Billy things that were true, but in the way a dart frog was poisonous to whatever touched its skin.

But Steve was what the rumours said, too. Always coated in some sort of truth, those things. Or a complete lie.

Steve doesn’t know anymore, as his ears ring out.

Billy’s hand fit so perfectly in his own.

Steve doesn’t dare pull his eyes up.

Tune out the loud beep, beep, beep of a crashed car, smoke billowing out in the air. The shouts of nearby witnesses, running to payphones to call the emergency lines.

Steve clenches his hand.

Billy’s hand fit so perfectly in his own.

Hands grab at him, saying something Steve couldn’t make out.

Has his chest always felt so tight?

Steve looks up at them, sees a car out of the corner of his eye.

He’s seen that car before. The license plate. He’s seen it every time he came to see Billy’s sister off. Now it was crumpled up against a pole, a body hanging out.

A body crushed below, Steve’s eyes staring at the outstretched, calloused hand.

Steve was really, really stupid.

#stranger things #steve harrington #billy hargrove #harringrove #i inflict ANGST UPON THEE

[ieatsmallorphansnamedtom]

hi do you have any hcs about sebastian? or just the ass squad in general (abigail, sam, sebastian) :D

Of course, anon! Gotta love the ass squad lol. Thanks for the ask. :) Spoilers for the ass squad obviously.

Sebastian and ASS Squad Headcanons!

It was actually Sebastian that inspired Sam to start a band! Seb knows the keyboard by the time Sam is wanting to start a band, and I imagine it was him playing something for Sam that sparked the idea!

Speaking of the band, poor Abigail had to sit through hours of Sam going on and on about what it would be like when they're famous before she eventually gave in and joined (it's not like she didn't secretly like the things Sam was talking about nooo never).

I'm on the fence about Seb being a natural ginger or not, but I do think he dyes his hair a lot. Whether it be highlights or his whole head, he and Abby do it all the time together. He mostly dyes it red or blue while Abby is emptying her bottle of purple hair dye for the tenth time that week.

Seb has modded Prairie King for Abigail to make it easier for her. She repaid him by still failing the game.

Sam annoys the hell out of Seb by calling him emo - turns out he actually finds the word annoying. It's mostly due to Sam not shutting up about it, but he also dealt with a bit of bullying in school for it. He'll still use it himself though when he's making jokes.

He does really care for Maru; he just hates to show it. Demetrius is still rotting in hell, but deep down he knows it's not Maru's fault. He takes a lot of inspiration from her inventions and has made a few models of them.

Sebastian gets along with Elliott surprisingly well. it mostly started over Elliott hearing him play keyboard and asking him about it, and from there they grew kind of close! They won't really hang out, but they talk at the saloon on Fridays, catching up on how the other is going.

Thanks to his unlikely friend, Seb listens to classical every now and then. Sam found out and has not let it go. The only reason they aren't being blackmailed into doing all his bidding is because Sam is so forgetful.

Sam is banned from Abigail's kitchen. Let's just say he set the toaster on fire, because that's exactly what happened. Abby walked in like "I smell something burning. Sam?" to see their friend freaking out trying to blow her toaster out like it was a birthday candle. He got a massive talking to after and isn't allowed within two feet of the kitchen tiles.

Sebastian has had multiple pet frogs. The kicker is nobody but him knows about them. When he was a kid, he took one home and put it in a cardboard box under his bed. It lived surprisingly well for being fed leftover dinner.

Seb is 25, and Maru is 21, so he spent very little time with his father. But the memories he holds of him are very strong. When he and Maru were little, they were a ride-or-die pair of siblings. They helped each other cheat on tests all the time. It's only when Demetrius found out and only got mad at Seb did a rift begin to form between them.

If Seb could have any other job, he would want to participate in motorsport races. I mean, he has a bike and he's Sebastian. You can't tell me he hasn't broken a few laws doing tricks.

He used to have a little thing for Sam when they first moved to the valley. He got over it pretty quick though and moved onto Abigail. But it was his "Ah shit, I'm gay" moment.

He has heterochromia. I mean this HC is mostly because his eyes don't match on his different sprites, but his right eye is green! It's usually covered by his hair, so people don't tend to notice.

One reason he hates the beach is because he got stung by a jellyfish. It hurt more than normal because he's extremely sensitive to pain. It wasn't that bad, but this HC is coming from someone who got 1 cm worth of stray jellyfish bits on the webbing between their fingers and cried. God bless the ocean.

Also, he's autistic, with a special interest in programming. This is coming from an autistic person, btw.

-~-~-

Tada! I hope you like these headcanons, anon. I worked hard on them. :) Also, thank you for being the first person to ask for a HC post!!

#sdv #stardew valley #sdv sebastian #stardew valley sebastian #stardew sebastian #sdv headcanons #sdv hcs #stardew valley headcanons #stardew valley hcs #sdv ass squad #stardew valley ass squad #sdv sam #sdv abigail #stardew valley sam #stardew valley abigail #headcanon #ieatsmallorphansnamedtom

[harehearts]

KILLED! AT CAMP SMILING TRAILS — little excerpt, word count: 768

"Don't do that," Morgan moved, propping herself up on her elbows to get a look around them. "What if someone sees us?"

Kit let out a sigh and shoved Morgan back down with a hand to her chest. Only a little more forceful than she was playful as she boxed the other in with an arm on either side of her. "Nobody's gonna see us, nobody even wants to be out here," she said, leaning in to kiss at her face. "Besides, I think this is the last place we'll get jumped for it."

"Right, I forgot everyone thinks gays are soooo cool here, why don’t we just go passionately swap spit in the dinin’ hall like Scotty and Reese do. Mhm?”

“Don’t be a dick. I just think this place ain’t the worst place to, hell, what’d you say? Swap spit? I mean, you’ve seen how Ruger is with that groundskeeper, we’re probably in good company.”

They were awfully close now, nose to nose, and despite her prior insistence, Morgan sat up a little just to press in and took every chance she could to brush her lips against Kit’s in sporadic half-kisses that made the muggy weather closing in on them almost pleasant. “Maybe.”

“Feels like more than just maybe—was I convincing?”

“Nah, ‘m bein’ intentionally unaware but you’re mighty easy on the eyes so it ain’t that hard if I’m real honest.”

A flash of Morgan’s shit-eating grin and Kit was sitting back with a scoffed laugh. “Whatever,” she said, narrowing her eyes against the sun beating down something nasty, shirt clinging to her skin from sweat alone and selectively damp around the sleeves. “We should get back, Reese’ll kill us if we’re not there for roll call.”

“We gotta get back after I fold, really?”

“Good way to keep you enticed, yeah?”

A sharp psssh left her, loudly, but she abided by the waved hand gesturing her up, groaning to her knees before stopping entirely, peering over the dock into the glittering, murky water. Morgan pulled the brim of her baseball cap down and leaned further in, the dock creaking with the movement, and her looking like she could dive forward about any second. “What’s that?”

“Jesus Christ, back up, if you fall in you’ll come back with like ten diseases.”

“Not,” she mumbled, absentminded, stretching awkwardly for something in the water. Kit loomed a bit away, hopeful to avoid the lukewarm splash back but standing all cross-armed and uncertain as she looked around at the sprawling woods encircling them, it dripped an itchy unease down the back of her neck she avoided by giving herself the task of moving forward and holding onto the end of Morgan’s shirt. “If I fall in now we’ll both get ten diseases,”

“Tight, wanna tell me why you’re fuckin’ fishin’ with your bare hands before I start to feel goofy as hell?”

Morgan didn’t answer. All she heard was the sound of water sloshing and the distinct absence of any other noise. No birdsong, no chittering katydids, no frogs or toads croaking away, hell, she couldn’t even catch the usual knocking of a woodpecker or two somewhere in the distance. Kit swallowed hard, focused on the opening in the woods that led to the path back to camp, shadowed and dappled in erratically shaking streaks of sunlight.

Sometimes those streaks converged. Warped. Twined around the shape of what she swore was a person staring back but then the wind would blow and the shadows scattered out again, vacancy returned.

She shivered, twitched away to—

—Morgan jerked her forward then pushed her back with a soaking wet hand, drip, drip, dripping to make dark dots across the wood. Kit stumbled sideways, clutching at the wet hand marks left on her shirt. “Fuckin’ hell, dude!”

“Sorry! Sorry, I tried talkin’ to ya, you didn’t say nothin,” she said, staggering to her feet. “You alright?”

“I’m - I’m fine,” Kit wedged a finger between her throat and her bandana to loosen it up a little and then she saw what exactly Morgan went searching for. Drenched, dripping, and donning the distinctive green smiley face on the tongue of the too-little shoe. “Is that…”

“…Yeah, I thought you said nobody comes out here?”

“Nobody does. We don’t even have a kid small enough to wear it here, anymore, at least.”

“Anymore?”

“First week of camp, some kid went home early, Ruger said he was bad sick. Wasn’t even around long enough for me to see him so I doubt he came out here,” she told her. “So where the hell’d it come from?”

#killed! at camp smiling trails #did we really think waya could write a story without lesbians in it.... no fleeting romance that gets SLASHED.... #anyway. waahoo! build up! build up! love that love building up things < dying

[milo-is-rambling]

Continueing the adventure of my last posts tags and reliving my childhood fears and general existence in my family which I have subconsciously packed away and literally have not been able to remember chunks of my childhood even when trying to remember what I did as a kid 👍 anyways back to it. Snuck into the bathroom. Didn’t puke. Win for drunk and high Milo. The bathroom door however is the loudest creakiest door in existence. Getting in here she for sure knows I’m awake. Now it’s her choice to attack with the trying to talk to me or to completely ignore me or to continue waiting and watching to attack her bait (me trying to exist without her involvement for like any amount of time) also there’s been a development. It wasn’t the living room or kitchen lights on making the hallway light up it was her bedroom door open with her bedroom light on. So good news bad news. Good news. She’s not in the living room. Less of a chance of her trying to talk to me. Bad news. Shes in her room and the door is exactly fully visible from the loud ass creaky bathroom door so if she’s in the main part of her room she will see me if she looks for me. I could camp out in the bathroom until her lights turn off. (Side note. All of this. Is how I legitimately thought of my life as a child. I was a mommy issues ninja. I was sneaking from room to room when her back was turned and trying to sneak away to read my book in silence or make my dolls have gay sex.) this reminds me so vividly of my childhood. My brothers bedroom had one of those humidifiers that had fish in it (not real fish they’re plastic like 2D fish) (someone please know what I’m talking about) but he had it and it kind of made like a bubbly sound and I would hear that through my bedroom wall all night and I would hear sounds of light traffic outside cause we lived in a small town it was mostly nature sounds and crickets and frogs and occasional dog barks. And the sound of my window fan going constantly on high and I would climb in and out of bed and watch the way the moon lit up the neighbors roof and I would watch the grass blow in the wind and in the morning I would walk barefoot through the dew and pick dandelions and walk to the bus stop in the cold with my cute little jacket and backpack and it felt like home and it felt safe and I was happy and I had friends I can’t believe life isn’t that anymore. I just heard my mom close her bedroom door score!!! We outlasted her. Also ps I’ve been sitting in the bathroom on the floor with the bathroom light off and the door completely closed and locked. I have mental health issues. I’m on a stealth mission my mother isn’t aware of at all and it literally just living her life and doesn’t care whatsoever what I’m doing. Anyways. Yeah. Being a kid in Maine everything just felt right and I’ve gone back to Maine and it’s just changed. We couldn’t even go inside the house I grew up in. And even if we could it would have all been different. We sold half our shit when we moved to New Hampshire when I was nine. Mom and dad couldn’t find work. But they found a job working at the same company together in New Hampshire so we sold half our shit and moved and rented a house that we went on to buy and call home for eight years. And then we moved to Florida and dad died and I went to Maine for the service. The house was different. Even from the outside. My grandmothers house no longer felt like home either. I was too tall. My head hit the ceiling fan when I walked. My grandparents were now at least six inches shorter than me and nothing in their lives had changed since I was a kid. Except for the heavy thick layer of grief and the feeling of death looming at the door. Now I know that’s dark but my grandfather is on his way out and my grandmother is losing her marbles. And both their kids died before them so like yknow I’m cutting them some slack here. They can live the same exact routine in life for twenty years who am I to judge if they get the same brand of puppy calendar every year with the same dogs in the same themed photos for every month just the

Dates are switched who am I to judge. Or when my grandfather buys a bar of hersheys dark chocolate and stores it in the fridge so it’ll break apart instead of melt in your mouth. Or how every night they watch the local news the weather then whelk of fortune and jeopardy back to back and then my grandmother puts me to bed (idk what she does now) and my grandfather shuffles his way to the dining room they never use that they only really use for storage and a singular big table and chairs set with a laptop on it (and a weird podium looking thing with a penguin candy jar on it all year round for some reason??) to watch his random shows or long ass documentary YouTube videos for hours and get seventy old person only computer viruses that we then have to help him deal with cause that laptop if the biggest source of joy in that man’s life. And then my grandmother gets ready for bed and eats a little dessert on the stool at the foot of her bed where her personal teeny tiny tv is to watch her law and order or her ncis or her bones or her whatever show is always on at night and plays the same like two seasons as reruns back to back. God I love them and their silly little simple life and I’m so glad I have that little slice of home. I will always be welcome there even if I am too big for the house and everything in it is fragile and all the furniture literally rattled when I walk bc my grandmother has weird taste that is like 70% china and 30% glass. Anyways. I love them and I love that house but I don’t feel like a kid there. I feel so so so out of place if anything it makes me sad to come back and realize that the only thing that’s changed that whole time is me. And now dad being gone obviously. And their health getting worse. But yknow. It’s there. And I’m thankful for that. I just wish I was still close with anyone there. We have my moms friend who I knew when I was a kid and don’t get me wrong I love their house and they’re so nice and goofy and redneck as fuck but the daughter I was once close friends with as a small child now doesn’t even talk to me or like look my way at all if I’m there so it also feels completely out of place now. They even fucking replaced the playground at the middle school. Like there is no where in my original home town that I can go back to and feel like a kid and it tears me up. I cannot physically describe how badly I need to go back to my elementary school in Maine and just walk through the halls and sit in the library and the computer lab and play outside on the playground. Truly the ages of 6-8 were the best years of my life cause when I turned nine we were either getting ready to move or had moved so eight was when I could still me a kid. Fuck. And then I finally felt like I was setting roots in New Hampshire and felt like I could almost breathe again they told me we were moving to a hot humid retirement / party state with alligators and sand instead of NORMAL GRASS and pine trees (sorry I am a proud sod hater give me real grass I hate not feeling like I can walk outside barefoot it is all rocks and fire ants and fake grass and spikes cactus evilness.) and now I live here. And my mom loves it. She is so happy and I just feel like I have no where else to go. I have no family or friends in the part of New Hampshire where we lived. I have no choice but to start over here. Either I start over here fully or I have to start here long enough to get out of here and start someone else to be broke and scared except also now you’re completely alone. And not even your mom who you adore but also kind of hate and you think she hates you but you know it’s just your brain saying that bc of course she loves you but also like… does she tho? Or is she holding the vow to you the same way she did to her husband. Telling anyone who would listen “I promised god and my dad that I was married to that man til death do us part” and then right after he died she’s like welp time to get back out there and she’s all happy glad about all this freedom she has now I know she’s like that with me I know she only loves me because

She has to she only loves me because I came out of her and me and my brother are all she has of my dad but my brother looks like him but acts like my mom but I act like my father and look like her so there’s that added self hatred if she looks at me and sees herself and wants to fix fix fix what isn’t hers to change about my life. And then I act like him and then there she is living alone with her dead husband again except no it’s his bitch of a daughter who will never love you as much as he did and it will forever be in the back of your mind even when you love me I will always be his child too. And you will never forgive me for that. She would leave me if I could handle it out there in the big bad world alone. I am the runt of this litter and I haven’t quite decided if I really want to survive it or not. It being life without constant attention care and devotion. And survive meaning is it better to have caused the pain now and make her proud later when I could just stop trying and let myself turn to dust in this room locked in from the outside watching shadows under doors and listening to the frogs croak outside. Summer heat settling in across my bedroom as I sneak out of bed and read my book with my flashlight until my mother walks by and yells to go to bed again. And the pink nightlight is illuminating the corner of my room with my Barbie’s and I want to play and feel like a kid again. I wish I could trade and be that kid for a day again. I want to play and feel free again and run just to run before my body started to hurt and ache and before I ever cut myself or held the gun in my hands and had to put it back down. I wish I could tell the childhood version of me that it gets better and it gets worse. You have to remember it all cause it’s gonna get lost in there. Really try to remember it all. And enjoy it. I’m proud of you for just being you.

I think I should drink every day forever actually if it makes me suddenly remember my childhood I’ve repressed for some reason that would be nice I could therapise myself thru poetry and long rambles that I throw poetic shit into and then call poetry even tho there’s really like three lines that weren’t completely off the dome. Anyways goodnight sorry for being your most annoying mutual forever ily I might delete this tomorrow

#WHY AM I WRITING A BIOGRAPHY FOR TUMBLR HELP I AM MENTALLY ILL ENJOY THIS CROSSFADE MILO LORE I MIGHT DELETE IT TOMORROW #👍👍👍

[gay-otlc]

And They Were Roommates- 3

Gay people finally communicate! By a gay person who does not communicate.

No content warnings that I can think of, but let me know if I should add any.

AO3

@synonymroll648 @rainbow-frog-earrings @an-ungraceful-swan @aphelea @rusted-phone-calls @solreefs @gaslight-gaetkeep-gayboss @squishmallow36 @silveredviolets @bookwyrminspiration

The good thing about being in close proximity to Keefe is, well, getting to enjoy Keefe's presence. Getting to live with him. Sharing meals and seeing his face right after waking up. When he first moved in, his only goal had been to avoid Alvar, but living with Keefe was... surprisingly domestic. And sweet. And Fitz is finding it increasingly hard to hear him say something endearingly stupid and not think I want to spend the rest of my life with him.

The unfortunate thing is that Keefe is now significantly more difficult to avoid. And uncomfortable conversations with him are also more difficult to avoid.

It's not that Fitz doesn't like talking to him. He does. He really, really does. He likes Keefe a little too much. Maybe if he liked him less, he would be less terrified of saying or doing anything to risk disturbing their shaky friendship. And that makes every conversation seem almost like a minefield.

But he still likes Keefe too much. So he can't stand silence between them for too long, even if talking is... potentially dangerous.

"Do you think he'll seriously still be there? The whole six months?"

He's clearly talking about Alvar, even if Keefe has refused to say that name the two weeks Fitz had been staying with him. Like just the mention of his name would be the thing to break Fitz. As if he wasn't long past broken. He snorts. "At least six months. My parents will probably just let him stay forever. I've called them a few times, and it's been full of, oh, Alvar seems so nice now, I think you'd like the new him, he took Biana out for ice cream in Atlantis, we wish you were here to spend time with your brother. Bullshit. As if they've just forgotten about all of the, I don't know, kidnapping and torturing and murdering. Just because he seems nice now doesn't mean he didn't spend years in the Neverseen. That's not exactly something to just forgive like that!"

He stops yelling, and the room comes back into some clarity after blurring into red fury. He sees Keefe, hugging himself and taking several steps back from Fitz. "Sorry. Sorry, I- I'll just go. I'll give you some space. Sorry."

Stay.

"Wait, it's- it's not your fault my brother's awful."

Keefe scratches his arm, leaving long red marks along his skin. "No, but you said being in the Neverseen wasn't something to- to forgive easily. And I get that. You have every right to feel that way. So I will... leave you alone."

Realization dawns on him; he's disturbed their shaky friendship. Badly.

"No, I didn't- Keefe, I didn't mean it like that. I wasn't talking about you."

Keefe laughs. Most of the time, Fitz would kill to hear another second of that laugh. This time it's cold, humorless. "No. You were thinking it, though. You're still upset. I understand. But please don't... lie to me and tell me it's okay when it's not."

He's right. Fitz can't fully reassure Keefe in a way that's honest.

So he lets Keefe leave. 

That night, Keefe sleeps on the couch.

In the morning, there's a sheet of paper lying on the dresser. Fitz looks at it, and his face stares back. A drawing of Fitz mid sentence, gazing off at something- or someone- with affection in his eyes. It looks like he's in love. 

Probably because he is.

There's a note attached, in Keefe's terrible handwriting.

Fitz,

That's the drawing I was working on. You can finally see it, congratulations I guess. I hope it lived up to all your expectations.

So we should

We need to

I think it's time we got over ourselves and actually talked about the problems in our relationship rather than just pretending they don't exist. But if you're not ready to talk, that's okay. Just let me know when you are.

Love, 

Keefe

Fitz clutches the paper so tightly it crumples. Keefe wrote love. He crossed it out. But he wrote it.

And, annoying as it is, he's right. They do need to get over themselves and talk.

That was, quite frankly, homophobic. 

"You saw the drawing?" is the first thing Keefe says when Fitz sits on the arm of the couch.

Fitz nods. Words don't seem to be moving past his tongue for a moment, and then he says "It was really good. The note, not so much."

"It's much easier to not acknowledge things, but that didn't seem to be working great." Keefe looks down and pulls a loose thread out of the couch. "I'm sorry. I've said that already, but I'm sorry. Running away was stupid and it hurt a lot of people and I just- I'm sorry."

"For what it's worth, I don't hate you like I hate Alvar. He joined the Neverseen to hurt people. You joined to help people, in your idiotic messed up way."

Keefe slowly moves his hand across the distance between him and Fitz, but waits for Fitz to make the decision. He rests his hand on Keefe's. "I'm glad you don't hate me."

"I'm not sure I could hate you." He moves down from the arm of the couch, sitting so close to Keefe their shoulders nearly touch. "I l- I care about you, a lot. That hasn't changed. But trust is important to me, and it's... it's hard for me to trust you, now. I'm trying, but it... it's going to take time."

Keefe lifted their tangled hands and softly pressed a kiss to Fitz's. Fitz tries very, very hard not to explode. "I'll wait. As much time as you need."

"And you won't run away from me again?"

"No. Never again. I thought it was the right decision, I thought you would be better off without me, but then it was-" his voice breaks. "It was awful. For both of us. So no, I won't run away. You're stuck with me."

Fitz rests his head on Keefe's shoulder. "Hmm. I can think of worse fates."

Keefe puts an arm around him. "So, if we're stuck together, do you think we can try to actually communicate about... whatever mess we want to call our relationship?"

"Ugh. Fiiiine. As for what we want to call this mess, how does boyfriends sound?" That was... surprisingly smooth for him.

"Yeah. Yeah, boyfriends sounds good."

"Well, that's settled, so... may I kiss my boyfriend?"

Keefe turns bright red. I did that. I made him flustered. "Yeah," he chokes out. "Yeah, I might like that."

Fitz turns his head, and-

Wow.

Yeah. Yeah. He might have liked that. 

---

"You kissed him!?" Biana screams.

Fitz blushes furiously. "Not so loud, Bee! I don't exactly need Mom and Dad to know about this!"

"Actually, I forgot to tell you- I'm staying with Linh now."

"Okay, well, shut up anyway so Tiergan doesn't hear. I really don't need my telepathy mentor hearing all about my love live from my annoying little sister."

"Fine, fine, whatever. You kissed him. I owe Linh five dollars-"

"You were betting?" 

"Yeah, I thought you wouldn't get over yourselves until at least next month."

"I hate you so much."

"Love you too, Fitz."

Fitz sighs heavily. "Anyway. Fine. Yes. We kissed. We're boyfriends now. This did not magically make our relationship great and uncomplicated but we're working on it."

"Keep me updated!" She waves enthusiastically before hanging up.

Keefe laughs. "She seems happy about this."

"Ugh. Yeah."

"Hey, I'm happy about this too."

Fitz kisses his boyfriend's cheek. "Yeah. So am I."

#THEY DID IT THEY KISSED #linh and biana are totally dating btw #keefitz roommate au #finished within pride month who's impressed with me #reblogs are great! ao3 comments are even better if you can :D #keefitz

[andromerot]

episode twenty two: eternal return. in which everyone posesses a secret self

I'LL TAKE YOU IN AND FILL YOU UP WITH LACK OF BEING FED.

i love gay sex

THE HUNGRY THING WANTED AND WANTED - AND HOW DOES IT END???

trespassing in HER garden....

the green thread tying her to the tree the red thread tying her to anna the green meadow the red meadow

mabel mabel strong and able you are trapped inside this fable round the table you must go you were naughty back around the other way other way other way...........

hm. i think. i think maybe it was another king.

white as death. white as purification. white as aurora silver. white as undue power. black as the king's heart. white as anna's heart. mabel as an infestation upon it.

YEAH

gotta love all earth fears the purity of fire

idk i think it was this monologue here that changed everything for me. when i went from "good podcast" to "lifechanging". ive felt so often that i am inadequate to be loved, that im rotten inside, and mabel did two things: put it in words that made it not just disgusting but also fascinating, and then contradicted it. mabel is rotten. its true. shes loved for it endlessly. there is someone out there that wants to be stinged by her. drowned hand in unlovable hand. mabel is being cruel to anna because she doesnt trust her, but we as the audience know the truth, and it sides a little with both of them. yes, anna has fictionalized mabel. but also yes, she does know what she really is. she has for a long time before coming to the house. ALSO"i am death silver and black come to ruin you"/"this is the girl come to ruin me like fire" from ep 20 is. woah. in the close "future" anna will be death and mabel will be fire but now she reverses their roles just a little bit. theres also just so many phrases on here that i repeat to me constantly. i am thorns and mist. i am a sharp and vitriolic thing you must be unyielding. the need for you twists me up. it would have been a good story. sigh. my girl who hates to be loved...

mabel martin bird moments once again...btw when she says "fitcher's swan" shes referencing a grimms folkltale called fitchers bird, which is a bluebeard type. i dont know exactly what this reference means, but i think its a nice story, so read it if you want..

mabel trying her best not to become luna....sigh. I WILL TEAR ALL OF IT DOWN I WILL TEAR ALL OF IT DOWN

sorry um this here. this changed my life

the fake psychiatric hospital bit is one of the scariest moments of the podcast tbh like yeah its only like one minute of it but. awful awful time. its so much. are you lighter is your mouth smaller...idk it just reveals so much about what mabel really fears and the reason she cant trust annas intentions. and of course if you know her backstory AND annas backstory it becomes so much more hurtful. theyve both been here, really.

oh THIS ONE HERE also changed the world. i have always loved you there is no world bereft of my love for you. THEY PUT GOD IN MY MOUTH AND I SPAT HIM OUT NOTHING GETS INSIDE ME WITHOUT MY CONTEMPT WHEN THEY TRIED AGAIN GOD WAS A WOMAN AND I WAS MORE RECEPTIVE IT WAS A TRUTH IN DISGUISE. mabel loving anna, a betrayal of her own integrity. i have made a religion out of you. YOU ARE TO KEEP ME ANNA YOU HAVE BITTEN INTO MY HEART AND LAID YOUR KINGDOM THERE AND ALL OWNERSHIP REQUIRES RULING

happy mabelvera choking scene martes

I AM NOT THE FROG, YOU STUPID BALL OF TWIG AND MOSS

I AM ALWAYS THE SCORPION

I AM NOT THE HELPLESS GIRL IN A TRAP

I AM A MANY WEBBED SPIDER

I AM THE LABYRINTH, ANNA

AND I AM ALSO THE MINOTAUR

literally fucking dies

also they were so real for this

#andys seventh mabel relisten: a beautiful liveblogged adventure #from now on ill be so much normaler.

[bypowers]

mike and will…. (s2 especially)

#byler #someone called them gay frogs and EXACTLY #lmao #mike and will #byeler #gay frogs #satire i guess??

[izzyfandoms]

Janus finding a toddler frog patton abandoned in his backyard and taking him in

Janus & Patton - Frog

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez @k1ngtok1 @yourneighborhooddisaster @alexxander-the-gay @full-of-roman-angst-trash @selfcarejanus

Masterpost

Janus hummed to himself as he moved through his kitchen, grabbing ingredients from cabinets and placing them on the counters. He was making a luck potion, and he needed everything to be exactly right for it, or else it might have... side effects.

He grabbed the final ingredient, placing it on the counter and then turning to his mini cauldron, which was on the stove.

First, he needed to fill it with water. He walked over to it, but before he could even pick it up, he heard a noise floating through the open window, from his backyard.

Crying.

It was... crying?

He paused. It sounded like the crying of someone very young - a baby or a toddler - but Janus knew zero babies or toddlers.

Who was in his garden?

Was it even a baby?

There could have been some malicious being in Janus's garden, simply trying to deceive Janus and lure him into a trap. Sure, it sounded like a baby, but numerous things could sound like babies without having to be one.

Janus's brow creased. Okay, he needed to be careful.

He slowly stepped away from his cauldron, turning to the window and carefully walking over to it. When he reached it, he leant forward on his tiptoes, looking through it. It took him a few moments, but then he spotted what was making the noise.

It was a toddler, a green, obviously-inhuman toddler, crying in the middle of his flower bed.

Janus stared at the toddler, taking note of his webbed fingers and frog-like eyes, but human face and dark hair. He was crying loudly, his little hands in fists, and Janus had no idea what to do.

What does one do with an inhuman baby just showing up in the middle of your garden?

Not call the police, obviously. Most humans knew nothing of magic and, for the safety of magical beings everywhere, it needed to stay that way.

Oh. Oh, shit.

Janus's neighbours were human. What if they heard the crying and came to investigate? What if they found this obviously-inhuman child and attacked him?

Okay. Okay, Janus needed to bring this toddler inside immediately.

He quickly rushed out of the room, to the back door, and he threw it open. He didn't quite run over to the toddler, just in case he scared him, but he did move quickly. He then knelt down beside the child, ignoring the earth that stained his knees.

"Um, hello?" he said. "Hello, child? Are you... alright?"

The frog-like toddler just continued to cry, sobbing in a way that made Janus's heart hurt just slightly.

"Uh, okay, okay. What do I do here?" he spoke mostly to himself. "Um... would you like to... come inside?"

The toddler did not answer him, predictably enough, simply continuing to cry.

Janus sighed.

Okay. This was... difficult.

"Okay, um... I think I'm going to... bring you inside," Janus decided.

He began to reach for the toddler, and then pulled him into his arms. To Janus's surprise and relief, the child did not complain, and instead rested his little head against Janus's chest. He continued to cry, but the sobs quietened down slightly.

Janus's shoulders relaxed just a little. Okay, he could do this.

He carefully stood up, moving slowly, and once he was standing, he turned to his back door. He then hurried over to it, looking around to make sure none of his neighbours were peeking over the hedges - and they weren't - before walking through he door and shutting it behind him.

Then, he let out a sigh of relief.

Okay, one problem solved. The child was inside and no longer able to be spotted by Janus's human neighbours. Now, there was another problem.

What exactly did he do with this child?

Janus looked down at the toddler in his arms, who was snuggling against his chest, his sobs quieter and more sniffle-like.

"Um... do you... know how to talk?"

The toddler said nothing, just continuing to sniffle.

Janus sighed. Okay, that was unhelpful. It was unlikely that he would get any information out of this child.

What did he do now?

Should he take this child to the kitchen? Should he... give him a glass of water? Kids liked water, right? And this child appeared to be half frog, so surely he would love water.

Okay, that would be Janus's next step.

He walked into the kitchen, still holding this half-frog toddler in his arms, careful not to drop him. Once he was in the kitchen, he looked around, before finding an empty patch of counter and walking over to it. He carefully placed the toddler on the counter, and then took a step back.

The toddler was watching him with wide, frog-like eyes, still sniffling, but significantly less than before. He reached up and rubbed his eyes with his little webbed fists.

"Do you want some... water?" Janus asked awkwardly.

The frog-toddler did not say anything, instead just staring at Janus.

Janus sighed. "Okay, I will... take that as a yes, I guess."

He walked over to the cupboard that contained his cups, keeping an eye on the toddler as he did so. He fetched a blue plastic cup that he never used, and quickly filled it with water. He then brought it over to the toddler and held it out towards him. The toddler just stared at it, before he looked up and blinked at Janus.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, before Janus let out another sigh and placed the cup on the counter beside the toddler.

Immediately, the toddler stuck his little fist into the cup of water. He let out a giggle, and Janus just stared at him for a few seconds, before he smiled slightly.

Okay. He had to admit, this child was just slightly adorable.

But what was he going to do with him?

Obviously, he couldn't just keep this child, that was out of the question, despite how adorable this child might be. But he also couldn't contact the police.

Janus sighed, reaching up and pinching the bridge of his nose.

What was he going to do?

Ugh, he was so not suited to this situation. He knew nothing about children! His friend Logan, who was a teacher, would probably know better than he did.

Wait... Logan! He could ask Logan for help!

He spun around, looking just a little frantically for his phone. He found it laying on the counter opposite the toddler, and quickly picked it up. But before he could even switch it on, the toddler made a distressed sound.

Janus turned around again, and found that the toddler was staring at him. His lip was wobbling, and he had his arms out, making grabby-hands.

"Do you... want me to pick you up?" Janus asked cautiously.

The toddler did not respond, just continued to make grabby-hands.

Janus hesitantly walked over to him, picking him up. The toddler immediately buried his face in Janus's chest, and he let out a happy sound.

Okay. It was going to be a little difficult to call Logan if this child didn't want to be put down.

#me #ask #writing #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #patton sanders #sanders sides #fluff #human au #magic au #witch au

[aizawaslovebot]

NOW PLAYING: the ex factor by iwaizumi hajime

—reader pronouns: he/him

—warnings: curse words ; had to be cut into two parts bec i want it that way ><

—summary: desperate times mean desperate measures, and y/n l/n is definitely the embodiment of desperate. eager to make his ex jealous for reasons undisclosed (read as: he's just petty), he asks his long-time best friend, iwaizumi hajime, to pretend as his boyfriend.

—note: the second part will be out in 3 days! VERY SORRY FOR THE VERY LONG WAIT UHU

TAGLIST: OPEN ; send an ask to be added even if you've already sent an ask back then!! because all that i could recall is @ohmygodronnie2020 and @beyond-the-mxxn

<- the sweetheart playlist | part i | part ii ->

Iwaizumi Hajime should’ve trusted his gut when it went crazy at the sight of you, Y/N L/N, whose eyes held a very mischievous glint that Iwa hated. He also should’ve turned you down immediately the moment you opened your mouth. Iwa definitely should’ve reprimanded you for roping him into this stupid plan.

Sadly, all he’s doing is crying over spilt milk.

He could remember it like it was yesterday. Years of dealing with Shittykawa meant that he knew when bullshit was about to happen. He thought going to California meant finally meeting someone who isn't an idiot on the daily. You were his contradiction. You were his idiot— basically like Shittykawa’s younger, much more mischievous brother.

Honestly, did Iwaizumi only attract idiots?

On the days you aren’t going on and on and on about why the government should be overthrown or why the both of you should buy a frog table for your shared dorm, he found you to be a nice guy. The people Iwa has met always had a hidden layer to them and you were one of them. Shittykawa was one too. Though Iwa wishes he didn’t introduce the both of you to each other— you become an unstoppable ball of everything annoying when you talk to each other.

But I digress. Iwa isn’t here to cry over why he only had chaos for best friends. Iwa is here because you, Y/N L/N, while you happened to be Iwa’s contradiction for all things he considered his norm, had asked him a very big favor.

“No,” Iwaizumi grunts, regretting even entertaining the male’s request. He could see your (h/c) hair bob as you groan out of frustration. Unbeknownst to the male, you were mulling over using what has to be Iwa’s biggest weakness: your very adorable puppy eyes.

“Iwa-chaaaan,” You sniff, putting on doe-eyes for Iwa to see, “I really want to make him jealous.”

Iwa sighs, subtly turning away so he didn’t have to see the tear-stained cheeks and the glossy eyes. The poor male was about to speak, pointing out that you had been influenced by Oikawa with the damn nickname, but he was cut off.

“He hurt me a lot, y’know?” You started to well up, for real this time, “I just wanted revenge…”

Iwa sighs again but he noticeably softens, opening his arms to let you cry while he hugs you. As you wept, you accepted his gesture and immediately let yourself be engulfed in your best friend’s arms. “You’ve yet to tell me why you two broke up, dumbass,” Iwa chided, though it was lighthearted.

“Zumi, is this your backhanded way of saying yes?” You asked, but your voice was muffled by his chest.

Iwa sighs for the nth time that day as he finally resigns to his fate, “Yes.”

That encounter was a week ago. You gave Iwaizumi enough time to prepare and regret his life choices. Honestly, he should’ve predicted that his idiot timed things perfectly so that your stupid plan would take place on the university-wide party the following week. Iwa could proudly say that most of his predictions were accurate and on point. Then again, his predictions were futile anyway— the best example could be his judgement on your then-boyfriend, Akuma Azamuku.

The brunette could clearly remember how he was able to discern more than enough red flags from just meeting the god forsaken guy. It was annoying how blind you could be when you’re heads over heels in love with the wrong people. Were you not really able to see how toxic this… Akuma guy is? Terrible name too, might he add. Iwaizumi would rather you date him than this devil spawn.

But he didn’t move a muscle. Iwaizumi didn’t move a muscle especially after that thought emerged from his head. What in Godzilla’s name was he thinking anyway?

Even if he could celebrate his on-point prediction on how much of an ass the spawn of Satan was, he couldn’t exactly bring himself to mock you with an angry ‘’I told you so!” Not when it meant that your damn ex-boyfriend cheated on you, covering it up by saying that he wasn’t actually gay. Not when it meant that you had been used. Not when it meant that you, his idiot, were hurt. His idiot was hurt.

“You’re being a martyr again, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tutted through the phone, tactlessly commenting once the brunette finished relaying what was going on.

The male snorted, “What are you on, this time, Shittykawa?”

“Don’t turn this on me, you idiot.”

How the hell was Iwaizumi the idiot? No. He’s lived with idiots his entire life but he wasn’t one. If anything, both of his friends were the idiots. Not him.

“Selflessly complying with dear (N/N)’s outrageous request, regardless of how much it hurts you. Tsk, Iwaizumi Hajime. You’re one big idiot,” Oikawa sighed.

Iwaizumi scoffs at his friend’s claim, “Why the hell will helping him out hurt me? Shittykawa, did you leave your single brain cell in Miyagi?” The brunette growls, annoyed at the way Oikawa avoided giving him the straight answer.

“Iwa-chan,” Iwaizumi’s breath hitches as he hears the next words, “you’re in love with (N/N), aren’t you?”

Iwaizumi Hajime was, in fact, an idiot.

He was an idiot for realizing it much later than wanted; for allowing Shittykawa, of all people, to know this one fact before him; and for opening an avenue for bigger wounds because all he wanted was to help his best friend. He probably had to be the biggest idiot among the three— and that’s saying a lot… like more than a lot.

The soon-to-be trainer could hear his pro best friend sigh in response to his stunned silence. Iwa concludes that it was weird to be on the receiving end of a tired sigh but he doesn’t utter a word. Not even after Oikawa begins to speak again. “I can’t even bring myself to tease you tonight… or today… or whatever time it is there, Iwa-chan. What will you do now?”

Iwaizumi wasn’t the type to let himself get involved in petty things like this nor does he let himself go against judgement. That is, if you weren't in the question. The brunette was very sure that you were his contradiction— unknowingly forcing him to go against all the boundaries Iwa had set and done. You, also a trainer in the making, could easily be the death of Iwaizumi Hajime. But if it’s you, then he’d gladly embrace this death.

“I’m going.”

Those two words were a lot harder to say than the tired male liked to admit. So as he ends the dreadful phone call with Oikawa, he secretly hopes that next week will never come.

Even if Iwaizumi tried his hardest to deny, next week actually came. Not that it was a surprise. No one could stop the turning of time, the rotation of the Earth, nor the ticking of the clock. How the hell would he even stop next week from coming? Heck, Iwaizumi couldn’t even stop you from this stupid revenge quest that you had set.

Pretend to be his boyfriend, you said. It would be easy to do anyway, you said. We’ll be in and out in a jiffy, you said.

To hell with all the lies that you had promised. It was beyond Iwaizumi’s skills and strength to pretend to be someone you romantically loved when he actually wanted it to be true. The Aoba Johsai Iwaizumi would’ve dipped; Iwaizumi from last year would’ve never pushed through. But here he is, standing in front of the mirror in your shared dorm, preparing to do what he deemed an impossible feat.

You will always be Iwaizumi Hajime’s contradiction. And at this point, he isn’t sure whether it was a good or a bad thing. All Iwa knows is that this will soon end and like the way next week came, tomorrow will soon be today.

So all Iwaizumi could do is psych himself up to do impossible— the same way he had convinced himself he was an ace in volleyball or the same way he gave himself assurance with his college application— and push through with the plan.

I can do this. I’m Iwaizumi Hajime, former volleyball ace and soon, an athletic trainer. I’ve dealt with Shittykawa all my life. I was able to get into a college in California by myself. This should be easy. I can do this.

“Should I wear this, ‘zumi?” You call out from the bathroom, holding two slightly different tops for Iwa to see. The way the brunette spluttered at the sight of a half-naked you was embarrassing to say the least, but Iwaizumi was thankful that you had been too engrossed to even notice the reddening of his ears. ‘God damn it, Hajime. Half-naked Y/N isn’t new,’ he chastised himself mentally as he coughs. “Use the darker one,” was Iwaizumi’s curt reply.

I can do this.

You should not have lit up at his answer like that. The sight gave Iwaizumi more joy than he liked to admit. Nothing could ever top what you said next though.

I c-can do this...

“Oh! This one matches yours too! We look good together, huh?”

I cannot do this.

“Idiot,” Iwaizumi sighs to mask his flustered state, “just shut up and wear it already.” You only laugh in response, already used to Iwaizumi’s brash way of dealing with things. “Alright, puddin’. Just wait. You can’t rush art,” You reply sarcastically, using the other nickname that Iwa had begun to dread.

Iwa resorts to the comfort of his phone— or rather, he uses the phone to conceal the undying pink on his cheeks so you wouldn’t see. Maybe if he spared a minute before he did so, he would’ve seen that you were equally flustered; seemingly embarrassed to have said what you had in their conversation. But it is what it is, and Iwaizumi has to continue his emotional constipation without ever knowing that had ever happened.

You take Iwa’s hand in yours before you lead Iwa out of your dorm and to wherever the god forsaken party was. “What’s with the skinship?” Iwa asks, though the way he adjusts the grip so it would be comfortable didn’t go unnoticed. Maybe he had started to like the prospect of this whole fake dating fiasco because it let him taste of what could’ve been instead of just wondering how it felt.

“Nothing you’re not used to, puddin’. And uh… uh… this way we could look like an actual couple,” You stammer and avoid eye contact, your hand still in Iwa’s warmth though.

If Iwaizumi hadn’t been too distracted, too haunted by the reminder that this was just pretend, then he would’ve noticed that you had seemed unsure, seemed too engrossed in the feeling of your hands together that you weren’t able to make a great excuse. He once again resigns to what has been destined. “The Y/N L/N I know doesn’t do things half-assed,” Iwa claims as he drops their hands, “By that logic this should be okay right? So people would really think we’re together.”

‘It isn’t okay,’ You croak internally. Iwa decided to go against all things normal by doing this… this very compromising position that ensured the two of you looked like nothing else but a couple. Iwa decided, despite not knowing how much damage it would bring to your poor heart, to wrap an arm around your waist.

Unknown to the soon-to-be trainer, you were just as, if not more, smitten with him as Iwa was with you. You almost revealed the reason behind your bad break-up and even let Iwa see that he had this much of an effect on you. So this, to see Iwa be so into the role of his pretend boyfriend, both flustered and somehow hurt you.

You didn’t know why it hurt though.

“You okay there, dumbass? ” Iwa asks, getting too close to your face and being far too concerned than your heart could’ve handled.

Everything about this was confusing. Both of your minds were having their own storms as the both of you stumbled upon this new, confusing field in between friendship and romance. Closeness with Iwa wasn’t new to you at all. Him lightly calling you dumb wasn’t new at all. So why, in God’s name, did your ribcage feel like breaking apart from the very loud beating of your heart?

If Iwa had to ask himself the same question he asked you, he would’ve gotten a big ‘NO’ from himself. Initiating skinship to this extent made Iwa’s brain malfunction. Not only that, but the feeling of your waist was very much heavenly and mind-boggling. To put a cherry on top of the sundae called “Iwaizumi Hajime’s gay panicking,” the speechless and cute expression you had was too much for his heart.

Turns out that you would answer the same as Iwa, not that the brunette knew though.

This plan of yours started on the right course. Your dick of an ex did cheat on you and you wanted to make him regret ever even thinking of using you as a scapegoat from his problems. It was common sense to ask for the aid of your best friend, right? He, of all people, would know you and understand you best. So when did your fake dating extravaganza take its turn? At what point did this plan converge into something different?

In other words, did you still want to make your ex jealous? Or did you want to see how it would feel to date your best friend?

Time did not let you answer the many questions that formed in your pretty head. Before either of you knew it, you’ve arrived at the party.

You turn to look at Iwa, who was somehow already gazing at you with that intense fire in his eyes, and nod.

It’s showtime.

—reblogging helps a lot !! thank you for reading !!

#the sweetheart playlist #iwaizumi hajime x male reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwa x you #iwa x reader #fluff #fake dating au #friends to lovers trope #male reader #x male reader

[lostkrbkaccount]

8, 10, 13, 15, 33, and 44 💙

8. Someday, yeah. Not exactly sure of what though..but tattoos are cool so yeah.

10. Yep I want load of piercings cuz I currently have none! Wanna look like Noiz from DMMD and scare people (doesn't help that I too have a blood/pain kink).

13. Respecting my fucking pronouns. Once I was sexting with someone and I told them I'm non binary, uses they/them and they called me they/them. Their sentence: "mommy all by themselves." I came right there and I wasn't even touching myself.

15. Matilda. Hands down. Love that film. Go Pam Ferris. Danny Devito is an icon and I'm in love with Miss Honey.

33. When someone says I'm funny or they enjoy my content. I love peoples praise and approval. Call me pretty, sure. Call me funny? Imma fuck you good.

44. Rainbow connection is a pretty gay song ngl, you know who sang it? Kermit The Frog. Kermit said gays rights. 🏳️‍🌈

[dragontamer-nia-2]

Olivier [Beyblade theories on crack]

Welcome to my random rants about random beyblade things. I have a lot of things to say about the Euro Team and how tragically underestimated and undervalued they are, as characters, but also as very smart plot devices, so in these posts I'm gonna pick a fight with the writers and yell at clouds while probably drunk. If you want a trip, and you think you don't like the Euro team, then jump on.

This guy. 

I love this guy.

This guy is great and I swear to god they knew what they were doing when they decided when and how to introduce him.

So, from the encounter at the top of the Eiffel Tower in ep 33 we know that this guy is mysterious and that he blades; he randomly starts roasting the Bladebreakers unprovoked, which is always fun, but fucks off before anything interesting can happen. What the writers decided to do in the next episode was split up the team, and have them find out more about Olivier separately: since everywhere they go they meet someone that has at least heard of him, we can't help but feel that this guy is kind of a big deal. From Max we learn that he's bloody rich, from Rei we learn that he's a great cook, from them both (when two guys conveniently share the information right in front of them… anime logic) we learn that he's the best blader in France, and from Takao and Kyouju we learn that he likes art, and… prepare your tinfoil hats, guys, because we're going deep.

The thing is, we know this guy is manipulative, and we know it because he offers Takao lunch in his own super expensive restaurant to distract him from the fact that he just ruined hundreds of people's day. Kyouju even points out that something's wrong when he sees Takao go into the Louvre absolutely furious at Olivier, and then sees them come out like buddies. We also know it because… come on guys, have you seen his face? Have you seen his evil smirk? He's a walking troll face. It's like the animators want us to not trust him. And yet, every background character seemingly adores him, even though we don't really get a specific reason why.

I mean… this is a kids show, I know. And the writing is messy most of the times. But this guy. This guy is shady as fuck. You can take him at face value and assume he's a well-meaning asshole, completely oblivious to normal interpersonal relationships, living in rich people's world where he can just do whatever the fuck he wants. Or. He could be one bad day away from being a chaotic-evil type of supervillain, because it's almost like he's doing everything he possibly can to lure and provoke Takao into battle while holding the façade of smiles and politeness. And the funny thing is that Takao doesn't even notice his intimidation attempts (while Kyouju falls for them at every step)

But, exactly, how manipulative is he? And, more importantly, is he even aware of it? Let's assume the worst about him for a second, that everything he did and said had the purpose to push buttons and provoke a reaction. Then just in episode 34 we have the following:

- He reserves the whole Louvre knowing that the Bladebreakers were going around famous tourists attractions

- He immediately interrupts Takao and makes him waste time on honorifics before letting him speak

- He invites Takao and Kyouju, two guys clearly not dressed for the occasion and who probably don't know proper etiquette, to his high class, really expensive restaurant, serves them delicious food he cooked himself, and even implies that he could kick everyone else out if he wanted to

- He namedrops that one guy from Team Who, in a conversation that really wasn't going in that direction, and then uses the bait to imply that he's much stronger than those guys, knowing fully well that Takao was having a hard time the previous day against them

- He basically corners Takao into battling in the middle of a fucking public park, knowing that there are a lot of people around and everyone wants to see the French champion battle

Now. The thing is, I can't prove he's the Machiavellian mastermind I suspect him to be, and the only way this whole thing works is that, in this episode, Olivier somehow got Takao and Kyouju alone and the rest of the team (Kai in particular) is not there to call Olivier out on his bullshit.

On the Eiffel Tower, at the very end of ep 33, Olivier did mention, among other things, that he has unresolved business with Team Who, and it's Kai that questions him to get more information. And what does Olivier do? He immediately cuts him off with "none of your business" and basically flees. We even get a reaction shot of Kai. Afterwards, Kai goes around trying to find out more information about Olivier on his own, and spies on the battle unseen. What's going on here? Well, Kai is not like his teammates, he's not naive, he knows what manipulation looks like and I think Olivier realizes it. That's why Olivier doesn't even try to play dumb with him like he does with basically everyone else, and that's why Kai circumvents the problem by playing bully with random kids instead of trying to confront him directly.

And I know all of this may be "chemicals are making the frogs gay" level tinfoil, but come on, just look at Olivier's reaction when Takao barges into the Louvre and somehow finds him. What does he looks like he's thinking?

At the end, it doesn't really matter, because Olivier doesn't win like he expects. Granted, at this point he can't lose - because the arc has just begun and Takao needs to work harder, and because Olivier already shit-talked Team Who in two different occasions while the writers want them to be a legit threat for the Bladebreakers. But Olivier can't win either, because we're already at the end of episode 34, we have three teams to juggle, and Takao can't keep losing and having to fight against the same people the whole arc. So they tie… and Olivier is shook. He miscalculated. For some reason this guy, this clueless, impulsive idiot, didn't lose immediately and neatly like he expected. And since Olivier does have honor, and respects people stronger than him, he immediately changes his tone, shuts down the peasants that don't understand these kind of things, and he starts treating Takao like an actual person (kinda).

Option A) Oh, what's this guy doing here while the Louvre should be closed?

Option B) How lucky, I caught him alone

One thing that stands out, though, is that he is the one member of the Euro Team who never loses. They had reasons to make his fight with Takao a tie, but why did they make him tie with Rei? Although I do have my own little theory about this, I noticed that he's the only member of the Euro Team that actually has other things going on in his life other than beyblade. The guy is rich, he is very interested in art, he works as a chef and wins culinary competitions. The fact that he's probably a bored psychopath is balanced by the fact that he seems to have his personal life together, he doesn't put his whole worth into spinning tops clashing against each other, and he has the self-confidence to admit when he was wrong. Which is… more than we say about the other European guys.

So, I'm thinking, because this is called Beyblade theories on crack after all, and there's too much reasonable stuff in this post so far… maybe the writers wanted to use the Euro Team to make a point about not winning, and being ok with it, and they really couldn't make it with the Bladebreakers because they are the protagonists. They can't lose - not permanently. Olivier doesn't win, twice, and… he's shook that he miscalculated, he seems to be honestly confused, his whole drive is not winning, but understand what's going on. That's why he sends the Bladebreakers to Giancarlo, that's why he convinces him to bring them to Ralf, he does want to study Takao, and… is he using the rest of the Euro Team as guinea pigs? Or did he notice something that's missing in them, and subconsciously wants to fix it?

Here's my hot take, and the conclusion to this dumb post. Olivier is not aware of his own machinations. He's a natural manipulator and he has a talent to read people or get info out of them, and he mainly does this by playing dumb and wait until people scream at him who they are and what they want. He reads the Euro Team, he reads the Bladebreakers, and realizes one thing: they could help each other. He baits Takao with the prospect of more beybattles and then follows him to see what happens. If it's chaos, good, if it's some life lesson, better. He manages to get Giancarlo on board and the both of them, combined with Takao, eventually get to Ralf. But what Olivier doesn't realize is that the very thing that he is subconsciously asking Giancarlo, Johnny, and Ralf to fix, is their inability to lean on other people, their skeptical and wary natures, their need to be perfect, without weaknesses, in the eyes of the world; and if Olivier was aware of his own machinations he would have realized sooner that, all this time, all he wanted was to have friends. And if I’m right about anything about this, then the writers will have done a good job with at least one member of the Euro Team, because it’s not only a fucking genius way to introduce the arc, the team, and the theme, but he’s also a damn good character.

I love this guy.

#beyblade #bakuten shoot beyblade #olivier boulanger #euro team #beyblade theories on crack #but wait #there's more #I'm just waltzing into the fandom with posts no one asked for #but I'm rewatching beyblade 2001 and it's a blast #also sorry if I made mistakes #english is not my first language #and i'm drunk and tired

[noladyme]

The Frog Princess. Chapter 1

1

“You can all bloody kiss my ass!”, I growled at the men standing around me. “There isn’t a chance in Hel I’m getting on that ship!”.

“Breathe, Y/N”, Eist tried calmingly. “This is what’s best for everyone”. “Best for you and your bloody war!”, I snarled.

In the corner of the great hall stood a mess of cases, containing most of my earthly goods. None of it had any importance to me; except for the small chest of knickknacks I’d gathered while on trips around the smaller islands of Skellige, and the one time Eist had brought me to Cintra Capital with him.

“Y/N, you’re not a child. Stop acting like one”. I smacked him across the face. A murmur of stifled laughter rose among the leather clad men surrounding me and Eist.

King Eist Tuirseach. The great leader of our lands; and my pain in the ass older cousin; who was getting ready to ship me of to a place far away – that I had no intention of going to.

“What you’re really trying to say, is that I’ve gotten too old to marry of to someone worth while; so now you’re using me as payoff to a sweaty sister-fucker!”. I picked up a goblet, and threw it at the wall; mead dripping down from where I’d hit. “You don’t know that he’s sweaty”, Eist smiled.

“Eist…”, I said, trying for sweetness. He looked at me pointedly. “When we are in public, you’ll address me as is fit my title”.

“My liege”, I sneered. “Great majestic cousin, and king of these isles. I am merely trying to explain to you, that if you intend to proceed with this plan of shipping me off to Temeria; there is a great chance that I might burn this whole fucking castle to the ground, and piss on the ashes!”.

I heard a gruff chuckle from a dark alcove connected to the hall.

Eist sighed. “Well, we’ll just have to keep you away from fire until you’ve boarded the ship”.

Rage boiling inside me, I stomped my foot into the ground, and screamed.

Eist closed his eyes and raised his eyebrows; shaking his head. “You can scream all you want, my dear. This is happening”, he said calmly. “No!”, I yelled. “Yes”, he answered. “You are going to Temeria. You are marrying Foltest. You’ll bear him whatever children he wishes to produce. And you’ll do it all with a smile”.

A stranger stepped into the light from the alcove. He was tall, and built like a boulder – muscled and strong. His eyes shone a strange shade of amber, and his hair was grey- verging on white.

“Why does he even want me? I have no real title…”, I said. “You’re my cousin. That is title enough”, Eist interrupted. He sat down at the head of the table, pouring himself a new goblet of mead. Apparently the one I had thrown was his. “Foltest needs a queen. You are a highborn woman; with a dowry that goes with it”.  He took a sip from the goblet. “You also happen to be a bloody pain in the ass; with the reputation that goes with that as well. You are lucky Foltest has agreed to this union. You weren’t exactly an easy sell”.

I laughed out loud, and sat at the table, a few seats from him; worried that I might stab him with a fork if I got too close. “There it is. A sell. I’m a commodity to be traded with”.

“You will do as you’re told, woman!”, Eist said, patience clearly running thin. I wasn’t having it.

“Would you say that to Calanthe?”.

Eist slammed both his fists into the table. “Enough!”, he roared. I froze in place. He breathed deeply, collecting himself. “Y/N; you are my favorite cousin. A fact that has unfortunately let you to run wild and do as you’ve wished for much too long. I cannot allow that to continue anymore”. His pained but resolute eyes met mine. “I know you won’t believe this, but I am doing this for your sake as well. You can no longer call Skellige your home”.

“You’re right”, I said, swallowing tears. “I don’t believe you”.

He looked down, clenched his fists, and sighed. “We’ll speak later. I have to finish planning your travel arrangements”, he said; and stood up, walking in the direction of the whitehaired stranger; who’d been watching our exchange with a smirk on his face.

“Geralt, I wish to discuss something with you”, Eist said, before turning to his men. “Take her to her room. Make sure there are no ropes for climbing out the window; cut up her sheets if you must”. He and the man walked towards the door leading to his private chancery.

“And hide the matches”.

---

I stood in front of a mirror in my now barren room. Thrude – my nanny turned hand matron, and dear friend – was desperately trying to cheer me up.

“Chin up. You’ll be a queen, m’lady”, she said smilingly. “I’ll be a puppet”, I answered. She raised a sponge to cover my face in powder. “Don’t”, I said. “Let them see that I’ve been crying”. She sighed. “At least brush your hair”. She handed me the hairbrush; and went to get my dress for the feast.

It was a ridiculous thing; nothing near what I would have chosen for myself. Black velvet with puffed sleeves, white laced trim; and a white lily on the front of the skirt. They’re dressing me up as the Temerian fucking flag, I thought.

I brushed my hair; and allowed Thrude’s old hands to run through it, braiding it into and intricate crown on the top of my head. When she was finished, I grabbed her hand, and put it to my cheek. “Tootie”. She smiled at my use of the nickname I’d given her as a child. “I could go with you! I could live with you in your cabin. You could continue to train me as a vöelve!”.

“I never trained you to become any such thing”, Thrude said indignantly. I smirked at her. “Teaching me about herbs, healing and monsters? That’s a proper lady’s education?”. “You’d do best to forget those things where you are going”, she said. She put her hands on either side of my face; and looked at me kindly but sternly.

“Listen to me, girl”. I hadn’t been a girl for quite a few years; but her age and the respect I held for her made me accept her choice of words. “Skellige is not the place for you anymore. You are off to a better future than you could ever have here... or anywhere else”.

I snorted in a quite undignified way. “A future as the wife of someone who is only taking me, for the money my cousin will pay him to do so… as a stepmother of a girl conceived through incest; and whose age I am closer to, than I am her fathers!”. I swallowed bile. “I’m going to be sick”. I put my head between my knees; my nose touching the velvet of the dress. She patted my head comfortingly.

“You must leave this place behind”, she said. “Become what is expected of you”. “Instead of…?”. I looked up at her.

She looked down and shook her head. “That’s for another time”. She shuffled her old body in the direction of my bed – the bare mattress reminding me of my cousins’ heartless elimination of my escape plan.

“But there won’t be another time”. I stood up. “I leave tomorrow”.

“Then cherish tonight”, she said.

From under the bed, she pulled out a small pouch; and handed it to me. “My own mother gave me this on my wedding night”, she said; tears in her eyes. “I was saving it for you; for when you’d finally stop being a little imp, and settle down with a good man”. She shook her head. “At least he’s a king…”. I chuckled through my tears, and took the pouch in my hands, opening it. Inside was a silver chain, adorned with an appendage shaped as a small frog.

“Ma’ told me that sometimes you get a frog; but shower it with enough kisses, and it might turn in to a prince”. She helped me put it on. “In your case; I believe it’s the other way around. You are stubborn, you act before you think, and you jump around too much”. She kissed my forehead. “But you can be something more”.

She took both my hands into hers and squeezed them gently. “You can be a queen. And one to be reckoned with!”.

I sniffled. “All I have to do is let a man I don’t know and don’t want, kiss me… and touch me… and…”. I heaved. “I really think I’m going to throw up!”.

She chortled. “He managed to bed his own sister. He must have some charms”. She winked at me. “Might even have a good enough cock to go with them”.

“Tootie!”, I cried out.

“Oh, calm yourself, girl! You know your way around a mands body. We both know that”. She wasn’t wrong, but I wouldn’t give her the pleasure of an answer. In stead I rolled my eyes at her.

“There we are, dearie. Now I recognize you”, she smiled. “Remember, it is not unheard of, for queens to take lovers other than their husbands. You might not even have to bed him that often”.

I sighed. “What am I going to do without you?”.

She patted my cheek. “You are going to grow up”.

---

The great hall was filled with laughter and dancing.

A bard from the continent was playing his lute; surrounded by red-cheeked girls, all vying for his attention. He seemed to me to be an absolute windbag; but I could understand the effect he had on them; blue eyed and brightly smiling.

As I stepped into the room; the music stopped, and the crowd turned to look at me. A roar of cheers and well wishes from all sides; and my strongest impulse was to turn around, and run back up the stairs. Thrude took a firm hold of my hand, and pushed me forward. “Go on, girl. This is your night”.

The bard began his music again, leading the room into a singalong of a gay tune; about a selkie and her lover. Dancing continued, and drinks were flowing. This was a joyous event – and I wanted nothing more than to crawl under a rock; and die.

We were stopped in our tracks by a tall man, I had not met before. “Lady Y/N”, he said haughtily. “Let me congratulate you on this glorious occasion of your engagement and upcoming marriage. I must admit that my master had hoped a different arrangement could have been made. But, alas, here we are”. “I’m sorry”, I said, caught off guard. “Who is your master?”.

“My apologies, my lady”, the man bowed. “I am a representative of Nilfgaard; Gaunter O’Dimm. Loyal servant of the true emperor of the fore mentioned lands”. “Usurper”, Thrude said, and spat at the floor. She pulled at my hand.

“I am sorry, sir, but I must take my leave. I must see my cousin”, I smiled, voice shaking. “Of course, my lady. I wish you good health”, O’Dimm said, and stepped aside for us to pass.

“Who was he?”, I asked Thrude. “No one good”, she answered quietly.

I sat down at the head table, watching the festivities; completely numb. The small silver frog rested between my breasts, cold against my skin.

“You look beautiful”; Eist said from next to me. “I look like a pig for market”, I answered, pulling at the uncomfortable corset Thrude had squeezed me in to. “Well; a lovely pig none the less”, he said.

I spent most of the night staring into space; not touching any of the food placed in front of me. The mead and schnapps on the other hand; I had my fair share of.

“You must eat”, Eist grumbled. “Not fat enough for slaughter yet?”, I sneered. “You’re not being slaughtered. You’re getting married”, he answered. “What’s the difference?”, I mumbled.

A fight broke out in front of the table. Well; not so much a fight as a beating. A drunk distant cousin of Crach an Craite’s new wife, had apparently taken a disliking to the bard reciting a sonnet to his fiancée; and was now dragging him by the nose to the floor in front of us.

“Witcher!”, the drunkard growled. “Control your pet!”.

The whitehaired stranger was leaning against a pillar; staring into a mug of ale. “He’s not my pet”, he muttered with a gruff voice. It sounded like it came from somewhere deep within his chest.

“Well, I don’t know how you do it on the continent”, the drunkard said, “but here in Skellige, if a mutt is acting wild; we cut of his balls!”.

The bard looked terrified. “Geralt!”, he pleaded. “Do something!”. The angry man pulled out his dagger and started waving it in front of him; swaying from side to side – obviously having trouble focusing through his drunken haze.

“Ger… Geralt!”, the bard shrieked. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.

Eist looked at me. “Rognir! You’ve made the lady smile! Thank you!”, he laughed. “Now let the poor lad go”.

The man burped. “Bugger that”, he said, and stepped forward, dagger raised.

A hand grabbed his wrist, and pulled it behind his back. The stranger was holding the drunkard in an armlock. “That’s enough”, he said. “Leave the bard, drink some water; and go remind your woman why she chose you in the first place”.

The bard ran to safety behind a group of girls; who all began to fuss over him.

The stranger let go of Rognir; who shuffled away into a dark corner; where a plump girl was waiting for him.

“Wolf”, Eist said. “Join us”.

He sat down on the opposite side of the table from us; accepting a new mug of ale from a servant.

“Y/N; this is Geralt of Rivia”, Eist said. My eyes met the strangers; who looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “Geralt, let me formally introduce you to my cousin; Y/N. The future queen of Temeria”.

“Princess”, the man nodded at me. “I’m not a princess”, I answered, and drained my fourth serving of mead that evening.

“She’s right”, Eist said, and took away my goblet. “Princesses don’t usually drink like sailors”. The stranger chuckled. “Y/N; Geralt is a witcher”, Eist continued. “I have asked him to accompany you on your journey to your new home”. The witcher looked at me again, his eyes narrowed.

“Him?”, I asked. “What happened to me being a future queen? Don’t I get a dozen soldiers on white horses?”, I snorted, and grabbed my glass of schnapps to replace the mead.

“No, you don’t. Mostly because I know you’d either annoy them until they leave you on the side of the road; or try to seduce some of them into letting you run away”, Eist said. I rolled my eyes. “Don’t give me that, Y/N; I’m not stupid. Poor Eyrick’s heart is still broken after your tryst last spring”.

Eyrick – firm, handsome… dumb as rocks. I’d made it clear I was in it for one thing. He’d taken that as a sign that I was playing hard to get; and sold his only goat to buy an engagement ring.

“Did he ever get his goat back?”, I smirked. “I bought him two new ones”, Eist answered. “The other one had already been made into dinner”.

I laughed heartily. “Poor Eyrick”. “Poor goat”, the witcher said. I caught his gaze. Had the situation been different, I might have flirted with him; handsome as he was… in his own rugged, I-don’t-give-a-fuck-what-I’m-wearing-as-long-as-it’s-clean way. I corrected myself as I saw a black stain on his sleeve. “Nekker”, he said, studying my expression. I held his gaze for as long as I dared, and returned to my glass.

A sudden rush of blood to my head reminded me that Eist had probably been right about me eating. I was well and drunk.

“So”, I said, “Eist has asked you, but you’ve not accepted? Coin not good enough?”. “I don’t make it a habit to meddle in politics”, he rumbled, and took a sip from his mug.

“See, cousin?”, I smirked. “Even the witcher knows a livestock trade when he sees one”. “Not the time, Y/N”, Eist muttered, and put a chunk of bread on my plate. I took a resentful bite of it.

“Geralt”, Eist said. “I am not asking you to take a side in the war. I am asking you, as a friend, to keep my cousin safe until she is in the arms of her new husband. Nilfgaard has been making moves north of their boarders, and I worry she will be in danger from kidnapping on her journey”. The witcher sighed. Eist leaned forward, lowering his voice. “You are many things, wolf, but you are not heartless. You’ve already shown me this once. You know what might happen, if they get to her before she reaches her destination”.

“And what is that?”, I interrupted. Eist sat back. “You won’t have to worry about that, if the witcher agrees to my proposition”. He smiled solemnly; before looking back at the witcher. “I will pay what you ask”.

They were both quiet for a long minute. Something unspoken passed between them, before finally the witcher grunted; and nodded. He took another sip of his ale.

“How is the child?”, he asked. “Last I heard, still growing in its mothers’ belly”, Eist answered. “She’s well, and will – along with the child – have the best care both during and after the birth. You know I would not lie about this”. The witcher nodded again.

“So, you will do it?”, Eist asked. “I will. On my terms”.

“Of course”, Eist answered, seeming relieved. “Anything. I have the ship ready for tomorrow afternoon, and will send any men with you that you might need. The lady’s belongings have already been packed, and horses will be waiting for you in Cintra Capital once you make land. Nilfgaard will be relentless in their search for her. They want nothing more right now, than to stop this wedding”.

“No”, the whitehaired man said. “We leave tonight. She packs light; and we take a fisherman’s ship to Attre; travelling on from there. Just her and myself”. A giggle was heard from behind a pillar; where the bard was charming one of the maidens from his fan-club. “And him. If he stays here longer, I’m afraid he’ll become a gelding in no time”, he said, glancing at a stout and angry looking old man; who was probably the girl’s father. Eist nodded.

My head was beginning to clear, as I was realizing what was happening. “You’re sending me with him? On a fisherman’s boat across the ocean; to then traipse across the continent in nothing but my plain dress and boots?”. “You can bring your sgian-dubh”, the witcher chuckled gruffly. I was surprised he knew the word for my hidden knife.

“I don’t have one”, I said, and looked at him defiantly. “Yes you do; you’ve strapped it to your leg”, he said in a bored voice. Eist bit his lip to stop from laughing at my affronted face. “Calm yourself, girl. I haven’t been looking up your skirts. The velvet in your dress gave away the shape of the knife against your thigh”.

I scoffed at him. “Well, you were looking at something, since you noticed my thigh”, I said. “You’d be better of slipping it into your boot. Makes it easier to reach when needed”, he smirked.

I did not like this man. 

“Eist…” I began. “It’s done”, Eist answered. “I’m begging you…”, I pleaded, “in the name of the love I know you have for me – please. Don’t make me do this. I can fight. Make me a shield maiden!”. “That would require that you actually were a maiden, dear heart”, he said. “Y/N, I do love you. That is why I am doing this”.

My heart dropped, and tears began to well up in my eyes, as I desperately tried to control my panicked breath.

“Wolf; I’ll send the ship to Cintra tomorrow afternoon, as planned, packed with men and the lady’s luggage. They will travel to Temeria; pretending to be transporting her – but the carriage will be empty”. “That will give us some extra days before they come looking for us”, the witcher answered. He turned to look at me.

“Princess, finish your meal calmly, then make your way to the courtyard. Pretend to be going to relieve yourself. I will meet you there”. I was breathing heavily. “No…”, I whimpered. “Not yet. Let me have tonight. Let me sleep in my own bed. I want to say goodbye”.

Eist was pretending to smile, his eyes miserable. “This is goodbye, Y/N”, he said, and took my hand to kiss. “I wish I could have made things different for you, child. You have my heart and my brotherly love; always”. He stroked my cheek.

“Now go!”. He turned away from me.

From behind me, Thrude put her hand on my shoulder, gesturing for me to follow. Not breathing, I grabbed it, and we walked briskly towards the door nearest our table.

---

We hurried down some stairs. Going in to the courtyard, I halted; making Thrude turn to look at me. “Come along, dearie. We must haste”. “Tootie… will I ever see you again?”. She looked down. “I hope so, child”. She kissed my cheek.

“Princess!”, someone hissed from the shadows. The whitehaired witcher stepped into the moonlight. “Follow me”. He walked towards the stables. Thrude let go of my hand, and patted my back to follow him. “Go on!”, she whispered.

I walked into the stable, where the witcher and the bard were waiting. “My lady!”, the young man said, and bowed in reverence. “It has been a great honor to perform at this extraordinary event, but unfortunately my friend here insists that we must leave”. He grabbed my hand and kissed it, beaming at me.

“She’s coming with us”, the witcher said; readying his horse – a beautiful red mare.

The bard looked from me to his friend. “She’s… the package?”, he asked in disbelief. “Yes”, the other man answered. “Geralt… are you sure this is a good idea?”; the bard said below his breath. “No”, the witcher grumbled, and looked at me indifferently. “Change”, he said, and threw a satchel on the ground in front of me. I was getting tired of being bossed around. “Why?”, I asked. “Because I said so”. “Go to Hel”, I said. The bard gasped at my words. “Bad-mannered words for a lady!”, he proclaimed. “Go fuck yourself, milksop”, I sneered.

“Geralt!”, the bard cried out. “Shut up, Jaskier. Do you want the whole castle to know what we’re doing?”, the witcher said; and walked towards me, picking up the satchel.

“Put on the clothes in the bag. I’m not asking you again”. I smirked at him defiantly.

He grabbed my arm, and looked at me; dormant rage in his eyes. His hold on me was strong, but not painful. “I will strip you down myself if needed”, he said.

I ripped the satchel from his hands, and went behind a wall to change. Inside the bag was a simple white chemise; and a blue, sleeveless peasant dress, which could lace up in the front, making me able to put it on myself. I reluctantly removed my sgian-dubh from my thigh, and slipped it into my boot.

From behind the wall I hear muffled talking.

“Geralt, this is madness. You can’t drag the future queen of Temeria across the continent on horseback”, the bard – Jaskier – said. “She needs pomp and… spectacle and ceremony; and everything else that goes with the title. Not to mention that she is rude; and will probably get in the way when we are fighting monsters!”. “You don’t fight Jaskier. You moan and whine, and run away at any sign of danger”, the witcher answered. “That’s not the point, Geralt… Geralt… Look at me when I’m talking to you!”. “What are you; my wife?”. “Gods forbid. I’m quite sure I’d be able to make a better match!”. “Well, if you come all the way to Temeria with us, maybe Foltest will choose you in stead of the princess. He does have strange tastes”.

“I’m not a princess!”, I thundered, and stomped out to face them.

The witcher looked at me, clearly about to roar for me to shut up. At the same moment, Thrude stepped in to the stable, carrying a gray cloak.

“Are you all ready to leave then?”, she said, and put the cloak around my shoulders, tying it under my chin. “Yes”, the witcher answered, and climbed onto his horse. “Come”, he said, and reached his hand out to me.

“She gets to ride?”, Jaskier asked woundedly.

I put my hand into the witchers, and he pulled me into the saddle in a swift and strong move; to sit in front of him, my back to his chest. He smelled like fresh dirt; musky herbs and metal.

“Pomp and spectacle, Jaskier”, his voice rumbled behind me. “Hood up, girl”, he demanded, and I did as asked.

I looked at the bard. “The grey stallion”, I said earnestly. “It’s mine. You can bring it as far as the ship”. Thrude smirked, and shook her head at me.

“Witcher; you will take care of her”, she said. A command; not a question. The witcher grunted behind me. “As promised”, he said. Thrude nodded.

With a last look towards my beloved old friend; I kissed the frog still hanging around my neck; and we we’re off.

---

We rode through the night, reaching a small harbor when the moon was at its highest. A fisherman was waiting for us, standing on the dock by an old boat; just large enough to transport all of us, and the witchers horse.

After Jaskier had gotten of the grey stallion, I smacked it’s behind, making it run of into the trees.

“Eist won’t like it when his favorite horse is gone from the stables”, the witcher said. Jaskier looked from him to me with horror on his face. “I’m a dead man!”, he whimpered.

The witcher chuckled silently, and handed me the satchel that had held my “new” dress. “Your name is Zaba. You are an herbalist in training, on your way to Lyria; to learn from your new master there”. I looked at him confused. “Zaba?” “It means frog”, he added, and turned to lead his horse onto the boat.

I frowned, and looked down at my necklace. Frog. Opening the satchel, I found in it some dried herbs, and a small book; filled out with what I recognized to be Thrude’s handwriting. There were recipes for draughts against headaches and simple stomach pains. Most of them I already knew; as Thrude had been diligent in her training of me as a non-vöelve. I had never been able to see the future, or predict next year’s crop; but I did know my way around simple healing of wounds and the occasional childbirth. I’d also managed to avoid pregnancy with the few lovers I’d had.

Along with my herbalist gear, there were fresh undergarments and stockings; and a few copper coins.

The fisherman giving me a hand; I stepped onto the boat; almost forgetting that this might be the last time my feet would be touching Skellige soil. The witchers horse brayed.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, Roach. But we’ll be in Attre before you know it.”, the witcher said to it. I looked on in wonder.

“He talks to his horse. You best get used to it”, Jaskier said, stepping onto the boat after me. He didn’t look like he’d forgiven me for making him a horse-thief just yet.

I walked up to the mare, standing on the other side of it than the witcher. “Her name is Roach?”, I asked. “Yes”, he said, not meeting my eyes.

I put my hands on the horse’s muzzle, and blew gently at it; the horse responding in kind. The witcher looked at me with narrowed eyes. “Hello, Roach”, I said, and scratched a spot behind its ear. “Thanks for the ride”.

I went to sit at the stern. “Wouldn’t the lady be more comfortable below deck?”, the fisherman asked. “She’ll be fine”, the witcher rumbled in response; and sat down to lean against a barrel.

We set off; the wind in our favor. It wasn’t long before my home islands became dots in the distance behind us.

I might not have a home there anymore, I thought. But no one is going to tell me where I will make a new one!

---

Thanks for reading. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list.

- no lady

#the witcher netflix #the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher fic #jaskier

[marlinspirkhall]

I Know What Your (Sci fi) Fandom Is By The Constructed Language You Speak

(and psychoanalyse you in the process)

Esperanto: You’re either a Red Dwarf fan, very enthusiastic about keeping out the Nazis, or both (and, really, what could get more Red Dwarf than that?). You get the romance languages confused on a regular basis and cry about it, but at least you know how to call the hall porter, because there’s a frog in your bidet. Unfortunately, no-one in this hotel speaks Esperanto. You’re a cat person, and you’ve got a keen sense of style and sophistication.

Gallifreyan: You’re a Doctor Who fan, and you don’t care who knows it. You grew up on Doctor Who content and you either lived through The Hiatus, or you’ve trawled through enough parts of the internet to feel like you’ve experienced it firsthand. You have a very loose definition of “canon” and get confused by fanon wars, because consistency? You’ve never heard of her. You would never be caught saying “I was born in the wrong generation,” but you’ve thought it, at least once. Your friends believe you may be a cryptid, but you’re just British, and gay. You’ve managed to watch episodes that don’t exist anymore, and you’re very cagey about the location of your TARDIS.

Heptapod: You are Amy Adams, and I claim my prize. Not only does your unique understanding of language give you a different perspective of time itself, but you’re a skilled calligraphist and you’ve studied Linguistics at least once. Caffeine makes you tired, somehow, but you drink it anyway. You secretly think it’d be cool to meet an alien, and you’re all for Nuclear Disarmament, but you’ll settle for world peace, and creating a universal translator within your lifetime, instead... Which adds up to the same thing, really. You have a passion for academia, but you don’t really have the energy for it. You’re comfortable with losing people over time, and accept it as a natural part of life, but sometimes you bottle your feelings up a little too tight.

Huttese: You’re a huge Star Wars: Expanded Universe fan, and you wrote several strongly-worded tweets to the Disney execs when they declared your favourite comic books non-canon. Those sleemos can prise Mara Jade out of your cold, dead hands. You have friends in powerful places, although you wouldn’t always describe them as friends. At your most vulnerable, you need someone to take care of you like you’ve just lost a hand and been told the villain was your father all along, but you can be terrifying when you need to be.

Judoon: You’re a Doctor Who fan, but only for the memes. You die a little inside when people take it too seriously, but you also own at least one Too-Long-Scarf. You don’t have a favourite Doctor, but you get an overwhelming sense of nostalgia for your childhood when someone cracks out this version of the Doctor Who theme. You’ve never had a crush on David Tennant, but Captain Jack made you realise you were Not Hetero. Sometimes people accuse you of being a little loud, but you’re certainly no crashing boar. You’ve heard of the elephant in the room, but what about the rhino?

Klingon: You’ve watched Star Trek: The Next Generation seventeen times over. You never set out to learn the language, but, one day, it stuck. You still can’t get the apostrophes in the right place on Duolingo, though. Your friend once complained that the Netflix version of TNG doesn’t have subtitles available when Klingon is spoken, and you felt smug for exactly 30 seconds, before realising you don’t know what a baQa' is, either.

Na’vi: You’re not an Avatar fan, because the more you learn about the worldbuilding of this movie, the sheer wasted potential of this movie, the angrier you get. No, my friend. The fandom you belong to is Lord Of The Rings. You’re fascinated by the way that language informs storytelling, although you watched the film Arrival (2016) and thought it was pretentious. You’re an avid writer and plan to write at least seventeen epics in your lifetime, and have notebooks upon notebooks dedicated to your intricate, meticulous worldbuilding. Now, if only you could finish that first chapter...

Vogon: You’re a Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy fan, and have listened to Pink Floyd and Dire Straits more times than you care to admit, though not by choice. No, you’re trying to find the album that Fenchurch and Arthur made love to. If you could ask Douglas Adams one question, it would be: “Where’s the sexy Dire Straits album?”, and he wouldn’t tell you. You’re still searching for it. You really know how to hold a grude, and you like celebrity gossip more than you’d care to admit. No one understands your poetry, and you feel justified in torturing them over it. Don’t worry, though. Listening to your poetry is torture enough.

Vulcan: You live and breathe Star Trek: The Original Series, have blocked/muted (or been blocked) by William Shatner on twitter at least once, and think it’s homophobic that Duolinguo has Klingon, but not Vulcan. (It is.) You have many OTP’s, but nothing beats This Simple Feeling. (It’s beyond V’Ger’s comprehension.) You respect other fandoms, but if someone dares to suggest that Star Trek TOS isn’t the best, your blood begins to boil. Luckily, you are in control of your emotions. Your fashion sense is a little Out There, but you’re an unrecognised trendsetter and your eyebrows are always perfect.

#esperanto #gallifreyan #heptapod #huttese #judoon #klingon #na'vi #vogon #vulcan #language #linguistics #constructed language #sci fi #fandom #fanon #avatar #lord of the rings #arrival #the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy #douglas adams #dire straits #pink floyd #star trek #star trek the original series #star trek TOS #star trek TNG #Star Trek The Next Generation #William Shatner #Leonard Nimoy #the eagles

[ourladylennon]

1/2) About Fraser, a couple of quotes that caught my eye:

"Robert represented to me freedom, freedom of speech, of view"

"The most formative influence for me was Robert Fraser. Obviously the other Beatles were very important but the most formative art influence was Robert. I expect people to die so I don’t feel a loss but there’s a vacuum where he used to be"

"The way Robert lived, which became the way I lived for a couple of years and which I now figure for a rather aristocratic way of life, would be that he’d ring early in the day and say, ‘What are we doing for dinner tonight?’

'Once I got to know Robert, a nice thing would be going to the gallery and helping install an exhibition. Just sit around and smoke a bit of pot while somebody else was installing the exhibition. Helping. Play a little music for him.’ 

"There were many good times in Robert’s flat. Through my Beatle connections I’d hire a 16mm projector for the evening […] and I started off with Wizard of Oz. Robert got into this, wow, and he’d get some art movies. We got a lot of Bruce Connors, showed a lot of that. It was a very exciting period."

The boy sounded smitten, didn't he? Maybe nothing physical happened, (Robert was allegedly into darker men) but it looks like Paul liked the idea of being "romanced" by this handsome and sophisticated guy. There was an undertone of cozy, easy intimacy between them. You can tell by the way Bob would call to plan what they'd do for dinner. How Paul would sit there playing music for his eyes only while someone else was installing the exhibition. It speaks volumes that someone as image oriented as Paul went to Paris with an openly gay man without caring what others would say. It suggests a deep connection. The story about their "netflix and chill" encounters in Robert's flat is so suggestive as well. Paul could've been anywhere and yet there he was watching Wizard of Oz with this dude. I'd say those encounters were not about Paul's love of cinema. He just wanted to be around Bob. They most likely drank, did drugs and in my opinion, fooled around a bit, for the fun of it. It sounds like a fantastic way to spend the time, 10/10 recommended.

Paul also had a strong relationship with Tara for the short time they knew each other. The fact he did LSD with him before the other Beatles implies a lot of trust. Tara was very responsible and sweet in that occasion, staying sober to look after Paul in case he had a bad trip. I loved that about him. He was really concerned about keeping Paul safe and giving him a good time. They always hung out when they had the chance and John really disliked the guy. Then there is Tara's Christmas trip to Liverpool. I'm aware he knew Paul's brother Mike first and they were friendly but there was such an air of "meet the parents" about this situation. I'm not entirely convinced they were physical but I could sense a romantic crush. Tara was married but as a beautiful society swan in the Rolling Stones' circle, I think he was quite open to experimentation.

part 2 and my answer below read line :)

2/2) Again, I would never call Paul bisexual but I do think he was more attracted to men in a romantic/platonical sense than people realize. He enjoyed immensely the attention and the company of some guys. He would open up emotionally with them, learn their craft and incorporate their habits in a way he rarely did with his women, not even Linda. It looks like Paul wouldn't unlock certain corners of his mind unless a man he was drawn to gave him that permission. This is probably why he associated Fraser with freedom.

John was the most important of all because in a way, Paul would've never discovered and accepted himself without him. He used to kill frogs and engage in unruly behavior as a child to repress that soft, romantic persona he would become so famous for. Meeting a charismatic, brilliant boy who appreciated that vulnerable side of him must've been exhilarating. As they became a songwriting team, they both started seeing creation as sex, a view they'd carry for the rest of their lives. It's telling that once Paul lost John permanently, he went looking for the next man to fall in love with. But not even Elvis Costello, Stevie Wonder or Michael Jackson were enough to fill that gap.

Which convinces me of the eroticism of his relationship with John. It was the one connection he didn't have with all the others (with the possible exception of Fraser) and this is why the collaborations would often end up somewhat unfulfilled. He might've loved them intellectually but the erotic element wasn't there and it made a difference in the results.

About McLennon, few people dispute they were in love with each other these days. But what are the odds that two people who felt so strongly about each other and had plenty of chances to consummate their feelings in a physical way not doing it? They would crash and burn within six months. It's all speculation because Paul won't tell us but I don't think it's that much of a radical idea. I think a lot of stuff will come out once Yoko passes away and Paul faces his own mortality.

P.S: juicy bit about Heather, I'm bummed that we don't get enough info about this period because of that divorce NDA.

//

Anon, you are a well-researched individual and I’m impressed. This was the first thing I read this morning it was like a morning newspaper lol, thanks.

I entirely see what you mean about intimate undertones. "Cozy” seems like a good word to describe the general feel. I *tried* reading up some more on their relationship and I get a sense that Paul in general had a great admiration for Robert and your right- has that element of creation which is so essential to Paul’s being and probably his attraction. Robert seems to have given him a different side of creating than John did: art. That clearly created a bond for them and had some impact. Like with the movies and projectors, yeah cool and all, but “an exciting period” goes a bit deeper than that for sure. He clearly learned a lot from him about art, but whose to say about what else? The way Paul talks seems like he really admired, respected and trusted the man at the very least (I am even reading this quote that seems to imply Paul and Robert did hallucinogenic drugs together unless I’m misreading? That’d be a big leap of trust just like with Tara which still boggles me).

It’s not too big of a stretch to think Paul did enjoy being romanced, in exactly the way you put it, by some guy who was “handsome and sophisticated” who he found to be interesting, different, above average, with a new exciting form of expression. And not romanced in the obvious sense; more so unassuming things like having an intimate understanding of art with one another, who felt his equal in terms of that area of art, who was putting in the effort of engaging with him, showing him something others hadn’t, being so willing to share with Paul and to open his mind. You can definitely be romanced in friendships too though so I’m not saying this is exclusively any one thing in particular, though I myself do sense an undercurrent of more-than-standard interest after reading some more. In a nutshell, pretty much what you said:

I do think he was more attracted to men in a romantic/platonical sense than people realize. He enjoyed immensely the attention and the company of some guys. He would open up emotionally with them, learn their craft and incorporate their habits in a way he rarely did with his women

I still don’t think he would ever connect the dots of what that meant or what it could mean. I think to him, it just was what it was.

With John specifically, yeah there’s just no question for me. To me, they are every bit of the lore and legend of what soul mates are made of. Fire & passion on all levels. No disrespect to any of their longterm relationships outside of each other, because they clearly had deep feelings for their other partners, but I sincerely don’t think it that it connected on every level like it did with John/Paul. But of course, I still fall on the side of thinking nothing sexual ever happened (for more reasons than one I could see why they wouldn’t have fooled around imo). With 67/68 being that turning point where they *did* crash and burn because perhaps someone tried something- words or other- or perhaps nothing happened and that could have precisely been the cracking point.

I do find it interesting that Paul’s hanging around with Robert was right around this tumultuous period of John and Paul’s relationship...kind of makes you think doesn’t it? Like does this have any influence on what happened in India sort of thing; John seeing Paul being good, close friends with a gay man. Could it have stirred something up for John? Made him see a possibility where he hadn’t before? Interesting to think about and which I hadn’t thought about before....

I genuinely hope that Paul shares anything important with us before he passes. He doesn’t owe us anything, but my god would I die to know everything that happened between them and everything they felt. 

#TW drugs mention #long post #ty anon #you got my gears going #asks #<3 #paul mccartney #john lennon #robert fraser #paul x robert #tara browne

[mira--mira]

One obvious for the ask game. The main protagonist; Naruto Uzumaki and Izuku Midoriya.

@shiryusamarkanda it’s so nice to hear from you again! <3 

I totally didn’t forget to post this and had it fully finished in my drafts for days...totally. 

Naruto

What I love about them:

Naruto's a bratty kid who’s not afraid to speak up and challenge something he thinks is "wrong". This, of course, is part 1 Naruto. I actually like when he's a bit insensitive without being explicitly malicious bc its very fitting for his background/how he grew up but also gives him a clear path forward as he learns how to work as a team/starts to grow. It wasn’t exactly a smart move, but I really liked how he continued to challenge Zabuza in the Wave Arc saying “he’s still my enemy” after Kakashi told him to back off. This is all good and strong characterization that, to me, was more often endearing than it wasn’t. Naruto had goals and a purpose and in early Naruto that was still clear.

What I hate about them:

Part 2 (Shippuden) Naruto. There’s a lot that goes into this but the core deviation is getting away from the underdog story. In Shippuden Naruto is the son of the 4th, the Child of Prophecy, a reincarnation of the Sage of Six Path’s kid, makes friends with Kurama, and has the most OP power of the them all: Talk no Jutsu. What makes all of this even worse is Naruto went from a loveable bratty kid to an insufferable messiah figure. To be “perfect” his natural personality is shorn down until he’s only allowed occasional “stupid” mistakes rather than mistakes that emerge from his characterization. This also makes his ideological “wins” with villains...completely meaningless. Shippuden Naruto doesn’t really...have beliefs. He wants to be hokage and bring Sasuke back to the village. “Being hokage” was fine as a kid but I expected the progression into shippuden to be “what kind of hokage do I want to be?” This seemed natural bc we get in the Wave arc Naruto pushing against “what a shinobi is supposed to be: a tool” from Haku and declaring he’d make his own ninja way. Flashforward to the chunin arcs: hates Orochimaru for messing with Sasuke (esp when he eventually leaves to join him) and Neji for treating Hinata the way he did until he learned more about the Hyuga before declaring it wasn’t fair and you had to fight against fate and destiny. Tsunade’s arc was more about reemphasizing the village was something worth protecting and the Sasuke retrieval arc, while focused on Sasuke, at least kept up this theme. But these moments of growth are only alluded to in shippuden and by the time the war arc and ending come around...nothing changes. Naruto didn’t upset the status quo, he only maintained it. And once that ending was established it was a lot easier to go back and pick out exactly when his characterization started to fall through and the weird messiah figure took over instead. Part of this, imo, is the focus of his ultimate goal being “bring Sasuke back to the village” rather than understand what Sasuke is doing/why he’s doing it and then deciding to help him or stop him. 

Favorite Moment/Quote:

“You’re cute when you’re chubby” [in reference to the frog purse] 

I really love the quiet moments Naruto has and watching him live out his daily life. The frog purse is absolutely adorable and I love seeing it crop up time and time again. A close second is when Gai kicks Jiraiya in the face and, a short time later, offers Naruto the green tracksuit which he’s appreciative of. 

What I would like to see more focus on:

In Part 2 Naruto having a long-term goal alongside bringing Sasuke back to the village or trying to seriously think about why Sasuke does what he does and how that would potentially affect the plot. If I could go back to the very start, keeping the actual heart and intent of an underdog ninja story rather than everything turning into superpowered mecha/kaiju battles and aliens from space this is the big point that I’d want to address. In general, I really like fics that focus on training and give him a range of jutsu besides spamming shadow clones and rasengan variants. I’ve said this before, but if Naruto really wants to keep the “number 1 unpredictable ninja” moniker, learning a variety of small, diverse jutsu and using them in interesting/creative ways would be the way to go rather than spamming the aforementioned two. I also really like fics that buckle down and just go ham and create their own variety of jutsu, especially if it’s small practical jutsu rather than the latest and greatest OP Power #839281 kind of jutsu. 

What I would like to see less focus on:

The messiah figure. Talk no Jutsu. The obsession with having a morally pure hero in a world that routinely employed child soldiers and put them in war. I understand Naruto was a shonen manga first and foremost but like...this was the setting/world Kishimoto decided on having. However, I will say some fics take it to far on the other extreme for my taste, creating a edgy nihilistic Naruto that hates everyone and everything. 

Favorite pairing with:

Uhh...I don’t actually have a strong feeling for this one LOL. The most I’ve read has been SasuNaru (Sasuke x Naruto) because I’ve found really interesting set-ups. I like the ship and it does have a decent amount of backing in canon but it’s the little moments (or my ability to see possible little moments) that really make or break a ship for me. SasuNaru is all Big Declarations and I struggle to see how they’d actually settle down post Shippuden time into something sustainable. My favorite iterations of the ship is focused when they’re genin age and have a better relationship...but then I recognize that this is getting closer and closer to Hashimada. The other big things I run into with shipping Naruto with Sasuke is 1. Sasuke needs a shit ton of therapy/willingness to process his family related trauma and 2. Naruto needs a good support network/family outside of a romantic partner because it personally makes me uncomfortable to read ‘you’re my one and only’ (here being: I have no other friends, family, loved ones outside of you). It’s a ship that can work but it’s not my personal OTP.  

Favorite friendship:

Canon/OoT - Naruto & Sakura

I do have a softspot for fics where Naruto realizes his crush on Sakura is actually a desire to have friends/someone to care about him and then they do become close. In canon Sasuke was clearly the favorite of Kakashi (if chunin arc is kept the same/similar and he takes him away for the month to train) I really like Naruto and Sakura sticking together and trying to help each other. They’re both loud and can wind each other up but Naruto can help Sakura relax a bit from her rigid view of herself and she can help keep him on track/encourage him. 

NOTP:

Again, no real strong opinions here. Probably harems? I remember seeing a lot of those a couple years ago and I fundamentally dislike the harem so it will never be ‘done well’ to my personal taste. 

Favorite headcanon:

Naruto is smart, he just needs things to be explained in a way he can understand. 

I’m not a fan of ‘he’s the smartest person in the entire world’ trope but Naruto is creative, he created the oiroke jutsu before he graduated to genin and has a lot of stubborn determination. He’s just really bad at typical ‘book learning’ and traditional testing and he’s not a genius/prodigy like Sasuke or Neji.

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Read line for BNHA manga spoilers

Izuku

What I love about them:

He’s such a smart kid and while he’s unsure/insecure about himself he still does his best. Honestly the premise of BNHA is amazing and I was so excited to watch this little quirky (heh) boy do his best and outthink heroes, utilizing his intelligence and knowledge of quirks. I really love early Izuku and how he has to approach situations from a different angle bc he grew up quirkless/can’t properly handle OFA. The sports festival arc remains one of my personal favorites and really showed his ingenuity. I also really love that Izuku is openly emotional, he cries, he gets super happy about things, he’s angry, he’s sad, etc.  

What I hate about them:

Why do stories insist on calling themselves “underdogs” when for a majority of the time, they’re not? Or not as much as they would be from the original premise? Look, TDP came about exactly bc BNHA was billed as ‘quirkless boy becomes number 1 hero’ it changed rapidly into ‘Izuku gets the strongest quirk but can’t control it’ and while I was...disappointed with that, it happened so quickly I wasn’t really upset. Fast forward to apparently OFA has...what seven(?) quirks inside it and I just...it’s frustrating. Even more the longer we go the more Izuku strays away from a character that is forced to use his intelligence and creatively outthink his opponents and instead becomes...I just have to hit him harder! The Muscular fight already inched towards this but the Overhaul fight just felt like Super Shonen Smack-down 728329. Which, isn’t an inherent problem, it just doesn’t match up to the expectations I had about BNHA I had at the start and how I hoped the series would go. For a character trait that I hate: Izuku is stupidly self-sacrificing. It makes sense with his character but he shoots beyond what is safe and reasonable and I wish there would be more internal emphasis on the question “is it better to save one person today if it meant I couldn’t save ten people tomorrow?” I think he’d choose the former or forsake the question altogether (we touched briefly on this during the overhaul arc with Eri) but I think it’s a serious question needs to be touched on (or I just need to go back and rewatch things again LOL) 

Favorite Moment/Quote:

See entire sports festival arc. I don’t really have a favorite moment because I love the entire arc and we get so much out of it. 

What I would like to see more focus on:

Quirkless Izuku. There’s already a lot of fics, but I really do love them. It deviates a bit, but I do like the creativity of giving Izuku his own unique quirk and then exploring what he can do with that/how it changes canon. Really I want Izuku to keep his original characterization and not trade his smarts for more punching power or deus ex machinas for quirks hidden inside of OFA. If OFA!Izuku is kept, I like story ideas where he still has to rely on means outside of his quirk. Preferably this is isn’t because he injuries himself so much, but I like toying with the idea that Izuku never gets OFA to All Might’s level so he really does have to make the quirk his own and still rely heavily on his intelligence and quirk journals to become the number 1. 

What I would like to see less focus on:

Quirks hidden inside OFA. Strength should have been enough, it was already billed as the most powerful quirk of all. I know this is a common theme for shonen stories, and I don’t mean to harp specifically on Izuku, but again the premise of BNHA was an underdog story. 

Favorite pairing with:

Tododeku (Todoroki Shouto x Midoriya Izuku) 

Friends to lover and battle couples lads, I am weak to them. I like the contrast between their personalities as well as origins (Shouto being the number 2′s (now 1) kid and Izuku from a quiet civilian background). At the end of the sports festival arc both of them are extremely well characterized and it’s easy for me to imagine how their relationship progresses from there and how they can support each other and help each other grow. It’s a very sweet and wholesome ship the way I write and read it and it’s v cute.

Favorite friendship:

Canon- Midoriya Izuku & Uraraka Ochaco & Iida Tenya

I really like the core trio and think their interactions are really sweet. They balance each other out well and their friendship was immediately believable to me. I also like later when Tsuyu and Shouto start to get included in the group and out of the “main” core friends I’m endlessly entertained whenever Izuku and Tokoyami interact with one another. (This is also because I love my bird son, but you know.)

TDP - Midoriya Izuku & Ashido Mina or Midoriya Izuku & Hatsume Mei

Really, I love all of TDP’s kiddos interactions. Their chemistry is one of my favorite things about the fic and all the villain school kiddos meshed really well and had hilarious interactions. Mina and Mei are my faves but just barely. Mina came out of left field for the fic but she plays a similar role that Ochaco does in canon as a usual source of positivity (but unlike Ochaco with additional chaos). She’s Izuku’s first real friend even before starting HIVVE and wouldn’t hesitate to call Izuku her cousin as she views him as family. In return, Mina’s someone Izuku can completely count and depend on if necessary. Mei is...Mei. Izuku is her best “useful customer” and it’s actually terrifying how similar their thoughts are, just Mei has an (un)healthy dose of Hazmat’s insanity and her own business acumen added into the mix. They have slightly different fields of interest but are intellectual equals that work well together and that’s something new to both of them.

NOTP:

Bakudeku (Bakugo Katsuki x Midoriya Izuku)

It’s unhealthy. Unless it’s an AU that changes what the start of their relationship is like, Bakugo and Izuku will always have a toxic friendship to me and I can’t ever see them in a healthy relationship. Both of them have a lot to learn and I am of the opinion that Bakugo should get the opportunity to grow and become a good person and leave behind his past as a bully. However, I’m also of the opinion that no matter how good of a person a bully becomes their victim is never required to absolve them of past wrongdoings. Izuku and Bakugo were friends once, their relationship turned toxic, and now it’s in the interest of both of them to grow apart from one another. I even hesitate to really say they’ll be friends again because the early characterization of their relationship was so imbalanced to me, but for the right author and the right work I may see them being on good terms. It’s still a romantic relationship that I dislike. 

Favorite headcanon:

Crack headcanon? Izuku does have a natural quirk, the force of his tears is clearly superpowered 😂 Regular headcanon, (that is canon in TDP and kindaaa in regular canon(?)) when Izuku gets really engrossed in a super stressful fight he focuses on what will work rather than what is moral. It has...mixed results. 

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For the ask game. 

#shiryusamarkanda #naruto #bnha #mha #naruto uzumaki #izuku midoriya #my fics #the diverging path #out of time #spoliers #bnha manga spoliers #asks