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sabaku-no-rozu · 2 years

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Need (self insert smut fic) 18+

Jesus Christ FIRST OF ALL, WARNING: Extremely graphic depiction of sexual acts and body parts, SECOND WARNING, bad communication. This came out to 3872 words and wrote itself. I need to go take a cold shower I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

tagging @screnwriter because i used their prompt and @nightingaleflow because I SAW U PEEPIN

V UNDER THE CUT V

Prompt: “I love you” “say that again” “I love you”

Need

18+ RoGaa touch starved smut

WARNING: Explicit description of sex acts and body parts.

Summary: Rozu and Gaara make time for each other. Set during the Blank Period (post war. Everyone’s about 21-25) Quick warning: themes of bad relationship communication! Don’t worry, they get better over time, but these idiot babies are still young and dumb, they’re learning!

–

“Oh, come on!” Rozu sighed with frustration, not necessarily directed at the jounin in front of her, but it might as well have been.

The jounin did their best to retain their composure, sensing Rozu’s frustration mounting. “I’m sorry, Lady Rozu. I’m only the messenger–”

“Don’t give me that!” Rozu cut the jounin off. She crossed her arms and sighed heavily. “This is the third time Gaara’s canceled on me,” she said, clearly upset, “and he didn’t even tell me in person!?”

The sand jounin made a sympathetic face, putting their hands up between themself and the angry kunoichi. After a moment, Rozu closed her eyes and let out a long breath, then pushed her fingers to her temples in annoyance.

The silence was long and awkward until she suddenly opened her eyes with renewed determination. She looked at the messenger jounin square in the eyes and placed her hands on her hips. “You know what? I’m going to tell Lord Kazekage exactly how much this pisses me off!” she shouted as she pushed past the nin. Their shocked gaze followed her down the hall of the Suna manor, words of “please don’t” and “Lord Kazekage must not be interrupted” falling on deaf ears.

Rozu and Gaara had only been together about a year since the war ended. In the beginning, it felt like they had way more time for each other. Following the fallout of the war, Gaara had gotten busier and busier with paperwork and village matters, and Rozu had been sent out on recon often. A taijutsu dominant sensory nin and the Kazekage made for a powerful couple, but unfortunately, their important positions in Suna left them with dwindling time to spend together to just be a couple.

The last few months had been especially rough. Rozu had been looking forward to going to Konoha with Gaara to attend Naruto and Hinata’s wedding, and the visit had been wonderful! It really was everything she wanted it to be.

The atmosphere, the love, the silliness… up until the days after the wedding. Outcroppings of rogue ninja made their moves to show the lands just what they thought of the new leadership. Rozu and Gaara’s own honeymoon period during that time was promptly stolen away by assassination attempts, riots, and all other imaginable manner of trouble.

Lately, it seemed like they never had time for each other. Rozu had enough. She didn’t work this hard to lose her man now.

She approached the door to Gaara’s office, still ignoring the frantic assistant who had been trying to stop her the entire time, and grabbed the handle. She could feel the scrunch of a scowl grow on her face.

Gaara was seated at his desk, flitting through a large file his seafoam eyes were focused on when the sound of the door opening took his attention. The first thing he noticed was his girlfriend Rozu leaning into his office, a pleasant surprise. The second thing he noticed was how angry she looked, making the smile that was forming on his face quickly turn around.

A not so pleasant surprise after all.

The assistant jounin finally caught up with the angry kunoichi and pushed just ahead of her, making her even more visibly angry. “Lord Kazekage, I apologize for the intrusion, I tried to stop her–” they stammered as Rozu attempted (and failed) to push them aside.

Gaara calmly waved the assistant off. “It’s alright, let her through.” he said. The assistant relented and let Rozu push past, who promptly approached Gaara’s desk and slammed her hands down. “Please close the door on your way out.” said Gaara to his assistant. They bowed and left the office, closing the door as instructed.

It was just Rozu and Gaara now.

“Babe, what gives!?” Rozu said, frustration in her voice. She was looking Gaara in the eyes, her amber ones burning with emotion into his. Gaara leaned back, crossed his arms across his chest, brow furrowed at her.

“Is this about our–”

“Yes, it’s about our date!” Rozu loudly interrupted. Gaara winced, he hated upsetting his love and he could tell she was angry about having to cancel their personal time. Rozu caught Gaara’s pained expression and reeled herself in a bit. “L-look I… I’m sorry I yelled, I’m just so frustrated!” she said.

Gaara remained quiet, a bit taken aback at her outburst. Rozu nervously continued speaking, now realizing the atmosphere was a bit tense due to her sudden barging in. Mentally she scolded herself, damn it, you always do this… one of these days your hot headedness is gonna make him leave… an intrusive thought made its way into her.

“It feels like we’re always busy all the time. Like we’ve slept together a couple of nights but…” Rozu did her best to reign in her emotions, but she sounded like she was about to cry. But I want more. I want so much more. She had no idea how to say that to Gaara. All she wanted to do was to grab him and hug him and…

“Oh, forget it!” Rozu cried. “You don’t have to say anything, I’m just being needy and stupid! You’re the kazekage, and I’m a recon nin, of course we’re going to be busy, that’s to be expected!” she turned to leave Gaara’s office, still dumping her emotions, “I shouldn’t have barged in here like this and bothered you–”

“Rozu.” Gaara’s voice called for her, firmly stopping her in her tracks. Rozu tensed up and remained still, feeling her cheeks get hot. She clenched her fists, her anxiety spiking with the tone he used. Surely she was in hot water with him now. Her fear of abandonment was rearing its ugly head noisily within her when she heard Gaara get up from his desk. She didn’t turn around, fearing the worst. This is it, she thought, her thoughts spiraling, now I’ve done it. This was the last straw and he’s going to leave me–

Gaara put his hand on Rozu’s shoulder and gently pulled her to face him. His expression softened seeing the tears in her eyes threatening to spill. Rozu looked into his eyes and felt the love and concern emanating from him, quelling the storm of emotions inside of her. She looked away from his gaze, suddenly feeling silly for her behavior.

“I-I’m sorry I yelled…” she said in a hushed whisper. Gaara pulled Rozu close to him and rested his chin on her head, planting a small kiss there. She spoke again. “I miss you. Work takes us away from each other so much it drives me crazy sometimes.”

Gaara swayed the two of them gently in their embrace, calming Rozu further. He could feel the tension starting to leave her body as they moved, and Rozu returned the embrace by putting her arms around his slender waist to pull him closer. “I know, I miss you too,” he said quietly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest. Gaara placed another kiss on her forehead, “not a moment goes by where you aren’t on my mind.”

Rozu felt her cheeks heat up, feeling the vibration of his voice in his chest against her body. She loved these little moments when he cooed to her. His voice was always so soothing and so…

So sexy…

Rozu then became very, very aware of her situation. She took in the gentle scent of earth and incense coming from her lover, and worked her nails gently over Gaara’s back, scratching soothingly in circles. Gaara sighed at the sensation. Getting back scratches from his love after a long day was one of his favorite things. Right now, it feels especially good…

The two of them continued to sway gently with each other, the tension from before melting away. A new kind of tension was rising between them.

“Hey.” Rozu whispered huskily, looking up at Gaara.

“Hey.” Gaara whispered back, a small smile creeping onto his face.

Rozu’s right hand made its way from his back to his face, caressing his cheek in her soft palm. Gaara leaned into her hand, still gazing at her. “Do you think, maybe… we have time right now?” she asked. The tone of her voice accompanied with the subtle shifting of her thighs rubbing together against Gaara’s body implied something she desperately wanted to ask. Gaara didn’t need to think too much about what it was though, the look on Rozu’s face told him everything he needed to know.

Humming low in response, Gaara’s left hand trailed lower down Rozu’s waist, to just above the apex of her outer thigh, pressing himself closer to her. His right hand went to her face, mimicking her caressing him. Rozu closed her eyes and leaned into his palm, craning her neck a little extra to expose her skin. An invitation.

Gaara leaned down and pressed gentle kisses to her neck, around her jawline and cheeks, earning lovely mewling sounds from his lover. The sound of gentle kissing and quickening breaths echoed through the empty office. Gaara reached the spot just between Rozu’s neck and shoulder. His hand on her cheek shifted back to thread itself through her soft hair and pulled, exposing the spot more.

Then, Gaara licked her neck, and sucked gently on the spot.

Rozu inhaled sharply at the sensation, feeling the heat pooling between her legs. “Gaara,” she cooed. Gaara simply hummed in response. Her thighs were rubbing together for some kind of relief. She could feel herself getting more and more turned on as Gaara’s hands explored her body more, running down her back, her sides, and wrapping back around her waist again.

Gaara lifted his head from the spot on Rozu’s neck and kissed her deeply. Rozu eagerly returned the kiss, parting her lips and slipping the tip of her tongue over Gaara’s mouth. Gaara allowed her to explore his mouth, taking the opportunity to do so with his own tongue. The feeling of her soft, supple lips on his own was clouding his mind with arousal. He let his hand travel down her waist and rest on her round ass, giving it a tender squeeze.

Rozu moaned into his mouth when he squeezed her and ground herself against him. The feeling of Rozu being so close to him–wanting to be even closer–shot a bolt of hot arousal straight through his body. His dick twitched in his pants, hardening at the sensation of his woman’s body wantonly pressing against him.

They parted from their kiss, a string of gooey saliva connecting the two, still inches from each other and panting heavily. Rozu’s amber eyes staring into his, whispering devious things, it was driving him crazy. Gods, fuck it. Gaara thought, quickly willing some of his sand to lock the office door behind them.

Rozu squeaked when she was suddenly grabbed at the waist and spun around so her back was facing the desk. She held onto Gaara, giggling as he was lifting her by her bum onto his stately desk, pushing papers aside to make room for her. He pushed Rozu’s legs apart with his own and settled himself between them, his arms on either side of her, and continued making out with her in the middle of his office. The sounds of wet kissing, panting, and giggling played through the room like sensual music, making Rozu and Gaara want more and more of each other with each passing second.

Rozu’s arms wrapped around Gaara’s neck and pulled him close. She bit his lower lip gently and looked into his eyes. Gaara’s cheeks were red, his eyes blown wide with affection, and his hair was a mess. It was quite a sight, seeing Lord Kazekage ruffled and flustered. Knowing she was the one to do this to him made Rozu even hotter for her man. Her right hand trailed down his chest, unbuttoning his jacket as she went. Gaara helped her as she got him out of his wear and let the jacket fall to the ground, his black tee shirt underneath quickly following suit.

“Mmm,” she sighed, her hands roaming over his bare chest, down his abdomen, trailing the waistband of his pants that she really wanted to rip off right now. She looked down to see his erection straining against his pants, and saw it twitch when Gaara realized she was looking at his sensitive member. “You’re so sexy, Gaara…” she said, rubbing his dick through his pants.

Gaara hissed at her touch and bucked into her hand, wanting more. It felt so unfair, he wanted more moments like this, more moments with her. Gaara would make sure that he savored this bit of stolen time with Rozu, savor her touches, moans, gasps… savor her.

Rozu let out a quiet moan when Gaara began to touch her. His hands made their way up the inside of her thighs, to the apex of her blue bodysuit. How she could walk around wearing the tight spandex bodysuit like it was nothing, not knowing how she looked in it, was beyond him. On the other hand, maybe she did know, and did it on purpose. Wearing that tight little thing, getting all sorts of attention, making Gaara just a little jealous when other men ogled her. When she had started wearing the red sash he had given her when they started dating like a little sarong, it only served to make her more attractive.

Gaara’s nimble fingers finally reached Rozu’s aching pussy. He could feel her head through the fabric before he even slipped his fingers underneath. He slid his fingers over her folds, making wet circles around her clit. “Hah, Gaara… that feels really good,” Rozu moaned as Gaara worked her sensitive button. His free hand came up to fondle her breasts, gently palming and squeezing them as he touched her sex. Carefully, Gaara inserted a finger into Rozu’s wet hole, then inserted a second, and pressed his thumb to her throbbing clit, rolling his thumb in circles around it. He curled his fingers inside of her upward, pressing against her g-spot.

The combined sensation was driving Rozu insane. Her mouth opened and her tongue lolled out wantonly. “Fuck…! Keep doing that, babe,” she moaned. Her free hand was around Gaara’s neck, holding her steady, and her other hand was making quick work of his zipper. She pulled the zipper down and let his fat cock fall free. Rozu wrapped her hand around his pulsing member and started stroking, squeezing as she went from base to tip at a slow pace.

“Oh, Rozu…” Gaara moaned, now bucking himself into her hand. “I’m not going to last like this.” he said, looking into her eyes.

Rozu was staring into Gaara’s eyes with drunken lust. She was absolutely entranced by this man, and she would do anything for him right now. Rozu swallowed thickly and pulled Gaara close to her, capturing him in a sloppy, wet kiss. When she broke the kiss, she leaned into his ear and whispered.

“Then take me, Gaara,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction, “let’s make love right here, on your desk. I don’t care who hears us.”

That was it, the flint spark to light Gaara’s raging fire. He inhaled sharply and removed his fingers from Rozu’s pussy. He grabbed just under her butt then scooted her closer to the edge of the desk for easier access, spreading her legs wider, and lined up his cock with her entrance. The two of them looked down between them, watching the other as they bucked and teased. Gaara rubbed his cock head up and down Rozu’s pussy lips, smearing himself with her sweet juices.

“How do you manage to do this to me?” he said in her ear as he teased his cockhead at her twitching hole, pulling slightly away each time Rozu tried to get him to slip into her. She groaned brattily at the denial, bringing Gaara a little bit of devious satisfaction. “How do you manage to get under my skin in the best ways?”

Rozu looked at him and bit her lip with a smirk, giggling. “Cuz I’m cute and you like me.” she said as she wiggled her hips against him, like a charmer to a snake. How she managed to be so silly in such a hot and heavy situation still threw Gaara for a loop sometimes, but it added to her charm, he believed.

Gaara held on tightly to Rozu’s hips and gazed into her eyes, finally pushing his dick into her wet, needy pussy. The feeling of her hot, quivering walls sliding around his thick cock as he hilted himself was otherworldly. Rozu groaned at the feeling of Gaara filling her wholly, feeling complete with him inside of her. They had had sex a few times before, sure, but every time it was still an amazing sensation. This time was no different.

“O-oh, Rozu… you feel so good…” Gaara moaned as he pushed himself into Rozu as deeply as he could go. Rozu’s legs wrapped around Gaara’s hips and her arms around his torso, keeping him where she wanted him and getting as close as she could. They were panting heavily, stock still, just enjoying being together so intimately for the short time they had. Their bodies were sweaty and hot, and the smell of sex was filling the air.

“Gaara, you’re so hard for me,” she said, planting a kiss on his cheek and running her fingers up the back of his neck into his soft red hair. “Mmm, I love it. I love how hot we make each other… fuck, babe, I want you to fuck me so badly. So don’t hold back, okay?”

Gaara pressed his forehead against hers and slowly unsheathed himself from her. He looked into her eyes, hearing those words from her egging him on even more. The fact that she wanted this–wanted him–as badly as she did made his heart swell to levels he never thought possible. He felt so loved, so good, he wanted to make her feel the same, and could only hope that after this, she did.

“Fine,” he growled, grabbing her hips, “I won’t hold back.”

Gaara drove himself deep into Rozu again over and over at a brutal pace, going as deep as he could with each thrust, earning pleasured moans and squeaks from his lover. Rozu’s arms got weak, and she laid back on the desk. The feeling of Gaara’s dick inside of her, pumping in and out, drove her insane with each thrust. She could feel her orgasm quickly approaching like a tight spring ready to snap. He held her hips in place as he fucked her on his desk, sweat pouring from the both of them. “Rozu,” Gaara said, panting, “you’re so beautiful.” he slammed into her deeply, his balls slapping against her tight ass, “you have no idea how much I think about you, when I’m alone… -ugh-how I touch myself-huff-to thoughts of us doing-unff-things just like this…”

Rozu reached her arms back to hold onto the edge of the desk above her head in an attempt to steady herself. Gaara’s sweet talking was pushing her over the edge, he was saying such sexy things to her. She reached a hand down to touch herself as he fucked her, but her hand was promptly swatted away and replaced with Gaara’s own. He was determined to make her feel good, to push away any insecurities she had about herself.

“Aaahhnn, Gaara…!” Rozu moaned loudly. “You’re gonna make me cum…! Gaara!”

“Rozu,” Gaara groaned in her ear, now leaning over her to get close. He could feel himself getting close to cumming. He wanted to be close to her, hear her scream his name as he fucked her into his desk, see the look on her face as he was the one to make her feel so, so good. “Can I cum inside of you?” he asked through heavy breaths. Rozu nodded and wrapped her arms around Gaara, pulling him into her. “Gaara, cum inside me, please…!” she begged, stroke after stroke pushing her closer to the edge, “Gaara… I love you…!”

“Fuck… say it again…” Gaara growled. Thrust after thrust, so close now…

“I love you…! Oh gods, I’m–” Rozu cried out in ecstasy as her whole body lit up with sparks and liquid fire. She was completely enraptured in emotions, her back arching and her body spasming as she came hard on Gaara’s cock. Gaara drove himself deeply into her pussy as she came, bringing himself to orgasm. His dick pumped his hot load deep into her womb, feeling her walls clench around him, hot slick cum dripping from their joined sex. It was so erotic, Gaara was seeing stars, playing Rozu’s words over and over again in his head. I love you, I love you, I love you…

For a moment, they lay there on the desk, panting and sweaty, spent from the erotic encounter. Gaara was slowly coming back to earth, feeling Rozu’s nails gently scratching circles around his back and her other hand stroking his hair. He let out a long sigh, placing a loving kiss on Rozu’s lips, then another on her forehead. “That was amazing,” he said. “We should get cleaned up though, before my assistant comes looking for me.”

Rozu snorted, thinking of what the assistant ninja’s reaction could possibly be if they saw the two of them in such a compromising position. She nodded in agreement. Gaara and Rozu quickly cleaned up and redressed.

“So… I’ll see you at home tonight then?” Rozu asked as she was about to leave. Gaara pulled her back and gave her another kiss.

“Of course,” he replied, seeing her off. He opened the door to his office for her, their gazes lingering a bit longer before saying goodbye. “I love you.” he said as he waved after her. “I love you too! I’ll see you later. Don’t work too hard.” Rozu said, then turned to leave.

As Rozu made it down the hall to the foyer, the assistant nin from earlier cleared their throat, catching her attention. “Soooo,” they said, a knowing look in their eyes, “you sure did give him a piece of your mind.”

Rozu’s eyebrows shot up, she was blushing furiously. “Ahaha, yep. Sure did. Just keep it quiet, okay?” she said with a wink, putting a finger to her lips. Of course, the assistant was only joking, but at the realization that the joke was completely serious, they went totally red. They stammered, and made up some excuse that they had to go to something before taking off, leaving Rozu to escort herself out.

She wore a satisfied smile on her face when she left Suna manor that day.

#rozugaa #smut #naughty bloggins #gaara x oc #fic #prompt #self insert oc #gaara smut

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ollifree · 2 years

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Obligatory OTP Asks - Zevran & Terron

1. Who would end a heated argument by defending their actions with ‘because I love you!’ ?

I don’t really see this happening at the end of heated arguments, but it is something I’ve had Zevran say verbatim in a fic as a reason for putting Terron’s needs above his own so.

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

Physical space until they come back to reality and then if they want touch. Soothing speech throughout.

3. Do they wear the other’s clothes?

Yes.

4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?

They don’t really need protection, but they’ll do it for one another.

5. Describe their cozy night in.

Usually involves a friend or two and a lot of conversation.

6. Who would beg the other not to leave? Who has to leave to protect the other?

Zevran has left, to remove the contract on the Wardens (and wound up setting the collapse of the Crows in place while at it). Terron was bummed about it but he didn’t try to stop him. Zevran’s stayed in Amaranthine or gone to Denerim on a few occasions when Terron’s left for Warden Commander stuff. If one of them needs to do something on their own they’re not going to get in each other’s way.

7. Would they build a pillow fort together just because?

On their own, no. With others, yes.

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

If it’s small things like seasonal colds or a fever, Zevran puts on the dramatics about every ache and pain. Terron teases him for his theatrics but helps with whatever they are. Terron sleeps those kinds of ailments off, so Zevran might cuddle up with him if it’s not something he has to worry about catching. More serious illnesses are treated accordingly.

9. What are their thoughts on having children?

It’s not for them. They both like kids and are good with them, but children of their own don’t fit their lifestyle.

10. Describe their first date.

What qualifies as their “first date” in DA gets murky, so I’m doing modern au.

Zevran has a couple free days when he’s back in The City, and he goes to Terron’s apartment for drinks and a movie.

11. Do either try to hide their emotions if upset? Can the other still tell?

Zevran does, and Terron picks up on it. Terron’s open with his.

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

They’re not likely to have heated ones, but after disagreements they’ll talk things out to reach a solution and understand the other’s position.

13. Who’s the bigger tease?

Zevran purposefully, Terron accidentally.

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

They’re both grounded people, and they tend to come to the same suspicions if something feels off. They both prefer action over waiting and share ideas on what needs to be done when. Zevran’s more of an optimist than Terron, but their clashes in personality don’t tend to raise conflict between them.

15. Do they always say 'i love you' before leaving?

“Stay safe” is an I Love You change my mind.

16. Can they stay up all night just talking?

Yes.

17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

Both.

18. How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?

I hesitate to even use the word “pet” for some of these, but yes and several. There’s the mabari in Terron’s solo worldstate, and Ser Pounce-a-lot up until the end of DA2. There’s a couple wolves that Terron’s befriended through being a ranger, and when they’re Out West Terron finds a griffon who imprints on him. Her name is Andruil.

19. How do they feel about PDA?

All displays of affection are good displays of affection.

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

There’s their ship tag from Mitski’s “I Will”, and while all versions of “Paper Moon” do I prefer Caleb Hyle’s cover for them.

21. Who would get into a fight to defend the other's honor? Who tends to the other's wounds?

Do they need to no will they yes. They both have a “spit some dirt on it” mentality about minor injuries. If it’s something that needs attention they’ll go to someone who’s an actual healer.

22. What reminds each of their partner?

Things the other likes, or if something reminds them of a story the other’s told about himself. Animal motifs abound so wolves will remind Zevran of Terron and crows/ravens will do the same for Terron re Zevran.

23. Who’s more likely to convince the other to stay in bed come morning?

Zevran.

24. Who's more likely to give the other a massage?

Both.

25. Do they have any hobbies they share?

Story telling and sparring.

26. What are their vices?

Terron has his habit of up and vanishing into the surrounding country side when he needs time to himself. Zevran’s been known to goad the important dignitary here and there to anger to suss out their true personality.

27. Who is the light weight that needs to be taken care of after a party?

Not a lightweight, but Zevran will whine about his hangover the next day.

28. What are their thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?

They use “amor” and “vhenan”/“ma vhenas” more often than they do the other’s actual names.

29. Who is more likely to jump in an elevator? Who freaks out?

Neither.

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

Terron’s wearing something fancy. Zevran’s wearing a dress.

31. Can they sit side by side without touching the other or are they handsy?

If they’re in separate chairs they won’t, but if they’re on the same bench/couch they’re more tactile.

32. Who's the better story teller?

They’re both good.

33. Who's the better cook?

Each is better at their own culture’s dishes, but they’ve taught each other how to make them.

34. Who's more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?

Zevran.

35. Who's more artistic?

They both are, though it manifests in different ways. Zevran’s more of a paper-and-pen artist, while Terron crafts and beads.

36. Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry?

Both.

37. Which is more likely to swear?

Both.

38. Who is more sexually experimental?

They’re both up there.

39. Who would rescue an injured animal and nurse it back to health? What would the other think?

It’s part of Terron’s nature. Zevran walks in to see a new bird/reptile/rodent/large mammal/large spider and goes “okay that’s what’s happening this week”.

40. Who has an insatiable appetite? And what does the other do to help?

I’m part of the fandom that enjoys the idea of Wardens never losing their increased appetite from the Joining. Terron deals with hunger well from his upbringing, but he snacks more often throughout the day to mitigate it when the food’s available.

41. Which one would take their jacket it off and drape over the other one because they were visibly shivering?

Zevran you’ve lived in Ferelden for years please learn to layer.

42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together?

Snow, for sure. It means a lazy day (possibly several) together. Zevran has to deal with Terron getting really excited over the first snowfall of the year first.

43. Who would give their life for the other without a second thought?

Both. In the shared worldstate Terron didn’t know about the dark ritual Caedan did with Morrigan, so when he killed the archdemon he thought he was.

44. Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway?

Zevran would start and pull Terron into it.

45. Can they fall asleep without the other?

They’ve both been trained to fall asleep in “less than ideal” situations. The other’s absence falls under that category.

46. Would they get frisky at the movies by themselves?

If they’re in a theater it won’t go beyond handsy kisses.

47. Does either of them have a secret that could potentially ruin their relationship?

No.

48. Who's the better driver?

Terron.

49. Does either of them have a hard time being away from the other?

Both of them do and they both use distractions to deal with it.

50. Who's more likely to do something out of spite?

Against other people, both of them especially if it’s over something petty. If it’s something against the other they’ll talk it out before it hits that point.

51. What’s a non-verbal way they say I love you?

PDA and acts of service. Pointing out things the other finds interesting if they find it on their own.

52. Describe their weekend getaway?

Spa day, a nice restaurant, and a trip to the theater.

53. Would they ever go skinny dipping?

Yes.

54. Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed?

If they fall asleep at a desk/table the other will shake them awake. If one falls asleep on a couch he gets a blanket thrown over him.

55. Do they like watching clouds or star gazing?

Yes for both.

56. What do they do turn the other on/put them in the mood?

Up the banter and PDA. Depending on the mood they’re going for small kisses or nips.

57. Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

Terron’s more budget oriented while Zevran’s more “this looks tasty”. In modern au Zevran has to keep a closer eye on what he eats but he’ll still throw a few snacks in.

58. Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument?

Again it depends on if it’s an argument between them or other people. If it’s between them they’ll work with one another to avoid it. If it’s someone else Zevran holds the grudge longer but Terron’s more likely to act on it.

59. Who tops? Who bottoms?

They switch.

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

Both.

#dragon age #zevran #terron mahariel #ship things #otp: it's always you #love it when i read through one of these and they answer themselves

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soldwrecked · 8 months

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SPENCER “SPENCE” MURRAY

did you see i had a ten dollar bill on the dresser?

NAME: spencer murray. goes by spence.

AGE: 21

D.O.B: december 3, 1948

SEX: male

ORIENTATION: polysexual

OCCUPATION: activist

FAMILY: born to joseph and alice murray, both alive. no siblings. partners and children are verse dependent.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE: lanky but muscular. brown hair and blue eyes. wears t-shirts or tank tops with jeans and work boots. also wears a green jacket and glasses with round black frames.

EDUCATION: high school education. dropped out of college during his sophomore year to pursue activism full time.

RELIGION: atheist

ALIGNMENT: neutral good

ZODIAC: sagittarius

PERSONALITY:

i think we should table the car versus van discussion.

quiet. a bit awkward. passionate about what he cares about. still trying to figure his life out. dedicated. loyal.

HISTORY:

Spencer Murray was born to Joseph and Alice Murray on December 3rd, 1948. He was a quiet baby and a quiet child. His parents worried that he’d have trouble making friends, but he never seemed to care if he had any friends or not. People gravitated towards him regardless. He had a quiet sort of charm that made you want to sit and listen to him for hours.

He went to college for a year and a half and then dropped out. His professors didn’t understand the actual issues that were going on and it annoyed Spence to no end. So he decided to stop listening and leave. He met a girl named Jenny a month after he dropped out and she invited him to live with her and her friends, who were all activists of a sort. Spence, having nothing better to do and nowhere to live anyway, agreed. Jenny introduced him to everyone and he moved in a week later.

It had been almost a year since Spence moved in and nothing had gotten better. In fact, everything had gotten worse. They never had enough money for rent and no one seemed to want to listen to a bunch of college dropouts. Spence did his best to maintain the peace, but he knew he couldn’t hold everything together forever. Everything was made, somehow, even worse, when Peggy showed up. She tried to worm her way into their lives and was, unfortunately, somewhat successful. The group kicked her out after two weeks and everything went back to falling apart.

tags

verses

pity the child that has ambition//verse - pre canon. spence is in college and hating it. he doesn’t know what he wants to do with his life, nor does he have any clue why he went to college in the first place. he meets a girl named jenny one day and she tells him that she’s living with a few other dropouts and they’re going to try and change the world. this sounds like a good idea to spence, who isn’t all that happy with the way the world is at the moment. he drops out and moves in with jenny and the others within a week.

a bunch of angry kids with no money//verse - canon. jenny, quinn, spence and the others are all living together. they never have enough money to make rent and the reality of their situation is slowly starting to settle in. it’s made worse by the arrival of peggy, a seventeen year old girl who tries to get in the way of jenny, quinn and spence’s relationship. she generally stirs up trouble and makes everything worse for the group and it’s decided that she needs to go.

no need to endure anymore//verse - post canon. peggy is kicked out and yet everything isn’t back to normal. the group is falling apart and peggy only made it worse. they all go their separate ways and spence is left homeless and jobless, floating around chicago aimlessly, still trying to find his purpose in life.

it’s only insane if you let it be//verse - any and all interactions with muses that do not exist in the days of rage universe. this includes fandomless ocs. it does not include days of rage ocs.

ships

and suddenly all the love songs were about you//otp: spence/quinn/jenny

feels like we’ve been falling down like these autumn leaves//otp: spence/alaska

dynamics

two hearts in one home//dyn: spence/jenny

wherever i go you bring me home//dyn: spence/quinn

she never let her bed get cold//dyn: spence/peggy

miscellaneous

i’ll shout and start a riot//aesthetic

not quite sure what i believe but i know that it’s true//headcanon

he’s cute in a dorky sort of way//faceclaim

#char: spence murray #pity the child that has ambition//verse #a bunch of angry kids with no money//verse #no need to endure anymore//verse #it’s only insane if you let it be//verse #and suddenly all the love songs were about you//otp: spence/quinn/jenny #feels like we’ve been falling down like these autumn leaves//otp: spence/alaska #i’ll shout and start a riot//aesthetic #not quite sure what i believe but i know that it’s true//headcanon #he’s cute in a dorky sort of way//faceclaim

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johannestevans · 3 years

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The #MonstrousMayChallenge 2021

Love monsters?

The #MonstrousMayChallenge is going to be a series of monster-centric prompts for every day of the month of May!

Draw, write, talk about, analyse, shitpost, critique, rec, discuss, create, consume, and otherwise have fun with each prompt.

Tell your friends, pick and choose the prompts that you like best: make art, make fiction, make rec lists, make jokes, make monsters!

May 1. What is a Monster? May 2. How to Talk to Your Monster May 3. The Vampire May 4. Iconic Settings May 5. Feeding Time May 6. The Lycanthrope May 7. Adverse Weather Conditions May 8. The Monster in Love May 9. The Undead May 10. "... and add a monster." May 11. A Baby Monster May 12. The Alien May 13. The Domesticated Monster May 14. Clothing Your Monster May 15. The Mermaid

May 16. The Gentle Kaiju May 17. Monstrous Transformations May 18. Angels & Demons May 19. Monstrous Flora May 20. The Monster in History May 21. The Hybrid May 22. Kept Captive May 23. The Human is the Monster May 24. The Dragon May 25. The Monster Dies May 26. The Hive-Mind May 27. The Fae May 28. The Monster Extinct May 29. Cultural Differences May 30. The Minotaur May 31. Happily Ever After

The full write-up for the #MonstrousMayChallenge is below the cut — for every day of the month of May 2021, there’ll be a new prompt all to do with creating monsters and monster-centric stories!

You can either go directly off of the prompts themselves, or if you want a little more inspiration, you can come check this post for more in-depth exploration of the idea in question.

For each entry in response to the prompts, regardless of what platform you post to, make sure to tag the #MonstrousMayChallenge! In the meantime, just spread the word and tell your friends to get them ready for May!

Feel free to pick and mix the prompts you like best, to skip any prompts that don’t suit you, or to swap in prompts of your own if you like — every 3rd day is a specific category of “classic” monsters, and they’re not for everybody!

“Monsters are the patron saints of imperfection.” — Guillermo del Toro (x)

The emphasis on all of the prompts below are on monster-centric and monster-POV stories. Monstrous romances and monstrous erotica are both welcome and encouraged, just as much as platonic monstrosity is, and please feel free to join in regardless of your medium, whether you draw, write, animate, or create in another way entirely!

Just a note as to what expect — this challenge is intended for those who love monsters, who identify with monsters, who feel for the monsters, and all the prompts are written with that expectation in mind.

One small note: throughout these prompts there are references to folklore and ideas from different cultures and backgrounds. When exploring ideas from cultures that aren’t your own, remember that not every representation of spirits or monsters can be divorced from its original context, and take care to do your research to ensure you aren’t harming others by furthering harmful stereotypes or appropriating ideas of cultural importance.

We’re all here to have fun, which means that using a love of monsters as a vehicle for racism (whether that’s outright or by upholding colonial and imperial ideas, appropriating from other cultures, or fetishising other races and cultures) is not what we want to see in the course of this challenge, and isn’t welcome here.

Note the above especially in regards to the Alonquian W*nd*go.

Saturday 1st May 2021 — What is a monster?

Here’s a warm-up challenge to start the month off:

For you, what is a monster? What makes a monster monstrous? What delights you, excites you, scares you, horrifies you about a monster? What fills you with affection for monster?

When you first hear the word monster, what springs first to mind?

This is a free space — talk about, write about, draw, animate, sing about, the monster(s) you love best, and why you love them!

Sunday 2nd May 2021 — How To Talk To Your Monster

How does your monster communicate?

Do they have a mouth, lips, a tongue, like humans do? Do they communicate verbally at all? Do they communicate via telepathy, via their tentacles, or their limbs? Do they speak, but at a pitch or volume or speed inaudible or incomprehensible to human ears? How is this gap bridged?

Does your monster understand humans but struggle to make itself understood? Does your monster want to be understood?

Alternate: How does your monster communicate with other, different monsters?

Monday 3rd May 2021 — The Vampire

The vampire is a walking corpse that sustains itself by feeding off the the blood of the living.

There are a thousand variations on the myth — a corpse that rises from its grave at night only to mindlessly glut itself on the prey it can find becomes a reclusive gentleman who lives in isolation in a brooding, gothic castle overlooking a Transylvanian woodland (Dracula); a sparkly immortal Mormon who likes to climb into young women’s windows to watch them while they sleep (Twilight); a rich aristocrat so intent on preserving his properties and his privilege that he clings onto immortality at all costs (Interview with the Vampire); an extremely sexy vampire in sunglasses who’s devoted to killing other vampires (Blade), and so on and so forth.

Explore your own take on the vampire:

Is your vampire actually dead? Do they just appear dead, or sleep in coffins?

What makes a vampire? A curse? A ritual? Transmission of vampiric disease — via the exchange of blood or via sex? Are they born that way? Do dhampirs (half-vampires) exist? Do vampires become vampires by choice? Is there a contract or an agreement?

Does your vampire drink blood? Cerebral fluid? Consume human flesh? Do they sap energy from others in non-literal ways — for example, do they feed off of emotions or energy, or seek to devour a soul?

If they survive off of the above, do they also eat or drink other things? Are they capable of doing so without becoming ill?

Is your vampire sensitive to sunlight? Bright light in general? Do they physically react to it? Do they burn, or crumble to dust? How do they cope with this — do they only come out at night, do they wear leathers and carry a parasol, do they use a medicated suncream?

Can vampires become ill? Sick? What weakens a vampire? What kills them?

Does your vampire have any other powers? Can they fly, hypnotise people, transform into gas or another animal?

What happens if a non-human becomes a vampire?

Alternate: A non-vampire monster becomes absolutely obsessed with vampires. They love them to pieces! Why? How do they get their vampire fix?

Some inspiration, if you want it:

Article: An 18th-century guide to hunting vampires from National Geographic

Article: The Great New England Vampire Panic from the Smithsonian Magazine

Video Essay: The Sexy Vampire Trope, Explained, from The Take

Tuesday 4th May 2021 — Iconic Settings

Imagine an iconic setting within the horror genre or without — your Transylvanian castles, your unending deserts of shifting sands, your haunted houses and their infinitely winding corridors, your unholy spires atop distant peaks, your deep and dismal caves, your roiling seas…

What monsters lurk within these settings? How do they feel about their environs? What happens if you transplant a monster from one such setting into its opposite, or combine a few of them together?

What happens if these settings are invaded, lost, destroyed, expanded, changed?

Alternate: Imagine any iconic setting you like, but instead of the monster lurking within, the setting is the monster.

The seas themselves are sentient; the caves are toothy maws of impossible beasts; the mountains themselves have eyes; the castles and houses and ancient tombs and temples are, themselves, imbued with a spirit… Is it hungry? Angry? Lonely?

Wednesday 5th May 2021 — Feeding Time

What does your monster eat?

Is it predator or prey? To a human understanding, does it look like what it is? If it eats meat, does it prefer to eat it dead or alive? If it’s not from this planet or dimension, does it struggle to find new things to eat? What does it look like when your monster eats? Is it private about eating? Does it look scary when it feeds?

Does it eat at all? Does your monster get its energy from the sun, from electricity, from magic, from something else entirely?

Alternate: From a monstrous POV, a human’s dietary habits seem monstrous and strange. Why?

Thursday 6th May 2021 — The Lycanthrope

The werewolf is a person who turns into a wolf, typically at the time of the full moon. Lycanthropy is the name of the condition of being a werewolf, or someone who turns into some other animal.

The variations on the werewolf are infinite — the core is often people bitten by strange beasts and left forever cursed with their regular transformation (for example, in The Wolf Man); but a curse is also possible, such as when kings are turned into wolves as punishment for their hubris (as with King Lycaon in Metamorphoses); or of course, a curse inherited, such as when young men who come into their inherited lycanthropy and suddenly have a whole host of new puberty concerns (Teen Wolf).

And it needn’t be a wolf at all — there are all manner of shapeshifters between one myth and the next, and as much as there are werewolves there might be werelions, werebears, werebats, et cetera, et cetera.

For your lycanthrope, why not explore:

What animal or creature does your lycanthrope turn into? A wolf, a bear, a lion, a snake, a bird? Something magical — a phoenix, a unicorn, a griffin, a dragon?

Once transformed, can your lycanthrope be distinguished from the normal edition of the beast? What are the differences, for example, between a werewolf and a wolf?

Can your lycanthrope transform at will? Is it influenced by their emotion? Is it kept to a regular schedule? Can that schedule be interrupted? For example, if it’s a monthly cycle like someone’s menstruation, can they go for periods without transforming or with “spotty” transformations? If it’s with the phases of the moon, does hiding from the moon help? What happens if you send them to another planet?

Is the transformation painful? Physically or mentally taxing?Are there any health problems associated with lycanthropy?

When transformed, how conscious and aware of themselves is you lycanthrope? Do they know they’re transformed? Do they remember what they were?

Alternate: Sometimes, another monster turns into a human.

Friday 7th May 2021 — Adverse Weather Conditions

What weather is your monster happiest in? What weather is your monster least happy in?

Is your monster native to an area that’s extremely hot and humid? Very cold and dry? Is your monster used to heavy rains, droughts and little water, sandstorms, electrical storms, blizzards? If your monster lives in space or underwater, how are they affected by solar flares or tropical storms, shifts in tides and gravitational flows?

How has your monster evolved or developed to handle these weather conditions — or, is there anything your monster hasn’t evolved for, and struggles with?

Alternate: Your monster is a house-monster, and will not be going outside. They would like a blanket and a cup of hot cocoa and a nice comfortable bed, please and thank you.

Saturday 8th May 2021 — The Monster In Love

Your monster’s in love — what do they do about it?

Does your monster have any particular mating rituals or ways in which they show their affection? Does your monster mate for life, does your monster date, does your monster romance singular or multiple partners? Does your monster yearn, do they pine? Do they bring gifts, do they do special dances, do say particular words or have mating calls?

Is their love reciprocated — is it even understood?

When one monster loves another monster, what does it look like? What does it look like when a monster is in love with a human? When a human falls in love with a monster?

Alternate: Your monster has never been in love, and is baffled — perhaps even disgusted — by the prospect. Do they do research? Demand an explanation?

Sunday 9th May 2021 — The Undead

The undead covers a lot of things under a similar umbrella, and it’s up to you whether they count as monsters or not — ghosts, ghouls, poltergeists, spirits, revenants, draugr, reanimated corpses like zombies, arguably vampires… To infinity, and beyond.

We can be talking spirits without bodies or with new bodies, corpses with new spirits in them, corpses controlled by necromancers or the like, and so on.

So, for this prompt:

For your undead monster, are they conscious, sentient? Do they control their own body? Do they remember when they were alive, if they were dead and then reanimated?

If they have a physical form, can someone tell they’re undead? Are they rotting, corpse-like, desiccated, all bones, all flesh, all muscle? Are they missing parts? Do they have any extra ones? Do they look the same way they used to? If they don’t have a physical form, can you see them at all? Can you see them only sometimes?

What sustains this undead monster? Do they feed off of anything, or are they just sustained by the air itself, by magic, by some sort of magical object or curse?

Was your undead monster once a human? Once a werewolf? Once a faerie, once a dragon, once some other creature entirely?

Alternate: Your monster is a necromancer, and they are not undead, but control and raise, in some way or another, the undead.

Monday 10th May 2021 — “… and add a monster.”

Take absolutely any iconic work you like, whether it’s a classic piece of literature, a poem, a piece of mythology or folklore, a fairy tale, a fable, a shanty or a campfire song — anything that’s in the public domain and might be well-recognised — and add a monster.

Have Sherlock Holmes meeting a vampire, reimagine Jean Valjean as a minotaur, give Mr Darcy a deep and affectionate longing for his local werewolf.

You don’t have to keep to the same characters or plots — rewrite an existing plot with monsters (Rapunzel or Cinderella, for example), have two plots crossover (what happens when the monsters in two myths team up to defeat the hero out to kill them?), add monsters or change the monsters in the narrative, or if it already has a monster, add another.

Alternate: Take a public domain domain monster and give them a break. Send Dracula on holiday, give the poor result of Frankenstein’s experiments a spa day, etc.

Tuesday 11th May 2021 — A Baby Monster

How do the monsters breed?

Do they lay eggs? Give birth to live young? Do something else entirely? Are monsters active parents? What happens when monsters interbreed, or breed with humans?

Is the breeding… fun? 😉

I know not everyone likes writing babies or kids, and equally that some people have come into this challenge specifically for the monsterfucking, so there’ll be two streams of main prompts — one focusing on the breeding for you child-free monsterfuckers, and another focusing more on monstrous baby development once an egg is laid or a baby is born, etc.

Feel free to do both if you want to do both, as one does lead into the other!

Questions about breeding and monstrous pregnancy:

Does your monster fertilise eggs for the purposes of a live pregnancy, do they lay eggs, do they clone themselves, do they breed in some other way?

If your monster has genitalia, what do they look like? Are they analogous to human genitalia? Are they particularly big or particularly small compared to the analogous human parts, if so? How compatible is your monster’s genitalia with a human’s genitalia — or another monster’s?

If there is a size difference between monster and partner, what comes of this? Are there any chemical differences between monster and partner — for example, does the monster’s touch impart a high or some kind of contact aphrodisiac?

Are any attempts at breeding viable? If the monster’s partner is filled with eggs, what happens the longer they carry them? If the partner does carry the eggs or the babies to the point of birth and laying, what happens? Is it a painful process? Will they survive it? Does the partner know they’re pregnant at all?

And the pregnancy/egg-carrying questions: how does the partner’s biology change to accommodate the pregnancy? Do they have any strange or unexpected cravings? Does their biology change in any unexpected questions?

Questions about monstrous child development:

How is the monstrous baby first conceived? Is it an egg laid, is it an egg fertilised, an egg fertilised and then carried, as the result of a live pregnancy, something else entirely? If they’re laid eggs, do they go through a larval stage or other similar development?

Are monstrous babies born alone, or in groups? Do they have a high viability rate? Do the monstrous babies eat one another? Do they eat their egg casing or their placenta, if applicable? If not, what do they eat — do they drink milk or blood, do they need their food pre-chewed by their parents, can they look for food themselves?

Are monstrous parents very active in caring for their offspring? Are monstrous babies born able to take care of themselves, able to have a sort of independence, or do they need to be cared for for a period first?

How fast or slow is a monster’s development? How long does it take for them to become fully grown? How much do they grow, and how does their body develop and change as they run through their lifecycle? Do they shed their skin or any body parts, do they change a lot materially?

Alternate: What does monstrous contraception look like? Do they have a concept of it? If they don’t, how do they feel about it being explained to them?

Wednesday 12th May 2021 — The Alien

What makes an alien?

Are they from another planet, another dimension? How similar are they to anything found on Earth? How did they get here?

Are they intelligent, sentient? Do they know they’re on a foreign planet or in a foreign dimension? How fit are they to survive on Earth? How do they respond to the animals, the new sounds, the new world, around them? What technology do they have? Do they appear to be aliens as people imagine them? Do they pilot aircraft as people think they do?

Alternate: A human (or another species from Earth) is the alien on another planet or another dimension populated with “monsters”.

Thursday 13th May 2021 — The Domesticated Monster

Let’s look at the monster domesticated.

The likes of Pokémon, fantastical creatures as beasts of burden or as steeds — unicorns and pegasi and giant spiders and dragons, for example — or other tamed monsters that have learned to live with humans, and live side-by-side with them.

Are monsters actively bred for a result, or do they domesticate themselves as cats and dogs did? Do they perform tasks or assist humans? Do they give milk or eggs or honey or silk or meat? At what point in their domestication are they? Are they happy? Are they well-treated?

Alternate: A monster gets a pet of their own — is it a fantastical species, or is it a dog, cat, bird, etc? Is it even a human?

Friday 14th May 2021 — Clothing Your Monster

Does your monster wear clothes or armour?

What sort of clothes or armour do they wear? Is it grown, made, bought, traded for? Do they wear any other kind of jewelry or decoration? Do they always wear it, or only for some occasion? What do they think of human clothes? Do they want to try wearing any themselves, or taking human fabrics for monstrous clothes?

Alternate: If your monster does not wear clothes, what do they think of human clothes? How do they feel about the fact that humans wear them? Do they have a full understanding of the separation between clothes and flesh?

Saturday 15th May 2021 — The Mermaid

A mermaid is a half-human, half-fish.

You can take this very literally, as in The Little Mermaid, with someone who has a human upper half and fishy bottom half (or the other way around…😏), you can think more along the lines of the fish-person we see in Abe Sapien from Hellboy or (also) in Guillermo Del Toro’s The Shape of Water, or you can look at different variations on mermaids — the seal-like selkie who can remove their pelt to walk on land; the siren that calls to sailors so they dash themselves upon the rocks; naiads and other spirits of the water; the rusalke of the water, and so on.

Questions for your merfolk:

Do they belong in freshwater, saltwater, brackish water? Do they stay in the seas, in deep lakes, in ponds?

Do they regularly come to the surface, or do they live very deep below? What sort of temperatures are they used to, and how much sunlight? If they live in cold water or deep below the surface, are they very large and blubbery to ensure they can cope with the pressure and the cold?

Are your merfolk bioluminscent? Fish-like, cetacean-like, cephalapod-esque? If they do look similar to humans, with a human face or human body parts, do they look or feel like human flesh underneath the skin, or is it just for appearance?

What and how do your merfolk eat? Do they eat fish, meat, seaweed, plankton?

How do your merfolk feel about humans? About fish and other marine life? About animals on land? Other monsters?

Can your merfolk step onto land? Do they want to? Are they curious about what they find there? Do the humans nearby know about them, care about them?

Do merfolk live alone, in groups or as families? Are they migratory? How far do they travel, and for what reasons? Do they build towns and cities? How do they feel humans compare to them?

Alternate: A completely different non-merfolk-esque monster lives at the very bottom of the sea. What is it? How do humans come upon it? How big is it?

Sunday 16th May 2021 — The Gentle Kaiju

Kaiju is a Japanese genre of films— your Godzilla, your Mothra, your Rodan, all of these are kaiju: strange, gigantic beasts.

This prompt is centred around any monsters of superlative size that are trying their absolute best not to harm any of the little people scurrying them about them.

You can take this literally — think kaiju tip-toeing their ways through great cities and trying not to step on anything important, huge space beasts careful not to disturb planetary orbits in case they hurt anyone, or even the likes of the human trying not to step on any ants — or you can think of other monsters trying not to harm others despite some aspect of their biology making it difficult for them — Lovecraftian beasts doing their best not to do anyone any psionic damage, for example, or Medusa-like beings desperate to avoid people’s gazes in case they do any harm.

Alternate: An extremely tiny monster or another monster very easily harmed by human activities needs to kept safe.

Monday 17th May 2021 — Monstrous Transformations

How does a monster transform?

Does in transition between one form or another, like a werewolf, or between forms for land versus water? Does it regularly transform or transition through different physical presentations? Does it shed its skin, leave its old body behind? Does it grow new teeth or claws or body parts? Does it transform in response to disease or ailment?

Does a human transform slowly into a monster? Does a monster transform into another? Is this transformation willing, conscious — is it against all desperate attempts to prevent it? Is it painful? Is it agony?

Alternate: A monster expresses deep curiosity about human transformations — perhaps the differences between a child and an adult and their scale of growth, perhaps the apparent transformation when a human changes clothes, or puts on a mask, or even make-up.

Tuesday 18th May 2021 — Angels & Demons

A demon is typically an evil spirit or devil, and are sometimes thought to be fallen angels; angels are typically benevolent spirits, often thought of as celestial messengers.

Being as they’re often thought to be celestial or infernal, do you think of them as being from another dimension? How well do they mesh with Earth, from their own perspectives and human ones? How do they look or appear? Do they have to present themselves in a strange or unusual form? How do they communicate with humans — and why? Are they evil, benevolent, or simply neutral?

Are angels and demons separate things? How many kinds of angels and demons are there respectively? If they’re separate, do they communicate with one another, balance with one another?

Alternate: A monster that is not a demon or angel decides to present itself as one or the other. What is it? Why does it present itself this way?

Wednesday 19th May 2021 — Monstrous Flora

Your monster is plant- or mushroom-based!

(Or lichen-based, or algae-based, or moss-based, or coral-based, or…)

What does it look like? What makes it different from a mammalian or scaly monster? Where does it come from? How does it move, how does it breathe, how does it eat? Does it sleep? Does it 😏… you know? Is it good at it?

Alternate: Your monster lives codependently with, or lives inside, some sort of plant. What does that co-evolved relationship look like? How big is the plant? What does it look like?

Thursday 20th May 2021 — The Monster in History

Throughout history, the perception of your monster has changed over time.

Is your monster immortal? Over the progression of recorded history, has it been this same monster recorded in one sighting after another, in art or in story? Or, is your monster the latest generation of a species or line of inheritance that has gone on for a long while?

How much has your monster’s culture changed and developed in that time — has it changed in reaction to or alongside human cultures? How accurate has human perception of your monster been as the centuries have rolled by? How has art or stories about your monster changed in their telling?

How has the monster reacted to changes in human history, or different events as they have happened?

Does your monster even notice the passage of time? Are they in some way insensible to it, or do they experience it in a way humans don’t?

Alternate: The monster is a time-traveler! How do they do this? Why?

Friday 21st May 2021 — The Hybrid

A few things are bred together to create a monster, whether that monster be sublime or an abomination before the universe!

Think about griffins, pegasi, basilisks, cockatrices, and of course the manticore — any sort of beast made by combining one creature with another.

What creatures have been combined to create this monster? Has a human been one of them? How has this combination been achieved — via actual interbreeding, magically assisted or otherwise, via alchemy, a curse, or some other magical process? Has this creature literally been stitched together and then reanimated? How have the different creatures contributing to the creature changed its behaviour or its abilities?

Alternate: An attempt is made to create a hybrid… and unfortunately this is not the result. What is?

Saturday 22nd May 2021 — Kept Captive

The monster is captured.

How big or small is your monster? How was it captured — was bait used to draw it in, such as a food stuff, a copied call? Was it herded into an ambush? Was it trapped under a cage, in drop trap, in a magic trap? How easy was it to capture — did it take a long time, were several attempts made? For what reason was the monster captured?

Now kept captive, how big is your monster’s enclosure? Is it a cage, a glass box, physical chains or bondage, something else entirely? How long has it been there? Is it alone — would it rather be alone than the alternative? Is it struggling with its captivity? Is it marking out the amount of time it has been kept trapped, screaming at its captors, harming itself in its desperation for escape?

Is it likely ever to be freed?

Alternative: A human is kept captive by a monster.

Sunday 23rd May 2021 — The Human Is The Monster

From the perspective of the narrator, the human is the monster.

Who or what is made to fear them? What makes the human so monstrous in their eyes? Is it to do with the human’s size, their appearance, their behaviour, the nature of humans as a collective?

Alternative: The human thinks they’re thought of as the monster — the real monster is behind them (figuratively or literally).

Monday 24th May 2021 — The Dragon

A dragon is a mythical creature, often large and scaly, with variations found the world over.

Is your dragon extremely big, or very small? Is it indeed scaly, or does it appear so? Is it some form of sea serpent, or does it fly? Does it have wings, fins, a tail, teeth? Does it have very powerful senses, or different ones entirely to what one might expect? Does it have a mouth, eyes, a tongue, ears? Does it breathe fire or ice, have gills? Does it have some other supernatural power — telepathy, telekinesis, affect the weather or the tide?

What does your dragon eat? Does it eat meat, vegetables? Does it feed off of magic?

Does your dragon hoard anything — gold, jewels, young people out for a wander? Livestock? Something else entirely?

Alternate: An ancient dungeon, temple, or some other monument, is marked by a huge statue of a dragon. Something else inhabits it.

Tuesday 25th May 2021 — The Monster Dies

It’s the end of the story — or perhaps the beginning.

The monster dies.

Alternate: The monster dies… but only for a while.

Wednesday 26th May 2021 — The Hive-Mind

The monsters in this one are multiple.

They share a hive-mind, whether that hive-mind is created by pheromones, by fungus or infection or disease, by magic, by telepathy, by technology, or something else entirely. How many beings are part of this collective? Do they exist in conjunction with one another, and move as a swarm or a hive? Do they synchronise their movements, and work together toward a common goal? Can they work independently, or only as a group?

Can others be inducted into this hive-mind, willingly or otherwise? Is this painful or uncomfortable? Does it wipe away what experiences came before?

If a member of the hive-mind travels far away, do they remain connected to the whole? How is this hive-mind used, when beings work independently? Can it be sensed or its effects be noticed by outsiders? What is its everyday function?

Alternative: A being once a member of a hive-mind or a collective is severed from it, and now alone. Are they grieving? Do they feel free? Are tasks suddenly more difficult or easy for them? How do they feel?

Thursday 27th May 2021 — The Fae

The fae are supernatural beings or spirits found in a variety of folklore.

The fae are often associated with woodland, bodies of water, bogland, or other particular areas, but there are variations on variations of different fae legend: elves, brownies, merfolk, y tylwyth teg, the bean sidhe, selkies, gnomes, kobolds, leprechauns, nymphs, pixies…

In a lot of modern fantasy, the fae are associated with rigidity around law and rules, certain contracts, and many superstitions are associated with fae or fae-like beings, where one offends them at one’s peril.

What makes the fae monstrous? What makes them frightening and an object of horror for others? What rules do they follow and expect others to follow? What superstitions are associated with them?

Alternate: The fae are introduced to pop culture depictions of fairies. What is their response?

Friday 28th May 2021 — The Monster Extinct

The monster has been extinct for thousands of years, if not hundreds of thousands, and based off of the evidence of them — stories, fossils, remains, old art, people are trying to back-engineer what they were like, what they looked like, how they communicated.

How accurate are they? How off?

Alternate: The monster doesn’t exist yet, or is a long way off, but has been told about in prophecy, or glimpsed in visions of the future. Are these glimpses accurate to the truth? Do they tell the whole story?

Saturday 29th May 2021 — Cultural Differences

What does cultural exchange look like between monster and human, or between two monstrous cultures?

How do these distinct cultures affect one another or interact? Are there large cultural differences between the monstrous cultures and the human ones? Are there any moral, ethical, aesthetic, economic, political, legal, or other cultural aspects that are very much at odds between some cultures and the others?

For example, do the human and monstrous cultures both have money? Do they treat money as of the same importance? Do they rank things in the same orders of importance? Do they have similar customs around politeness, greeting, language? Does each culture respect the others, or do they consider themselves superior or inferior?

Alternate: A human has never had much experience of the culture they were born of — they only know the monstrous culture they were raised by and into. What does that look like?

Sunday 30th 2021 — The Minotaur

It’s my birthday and the minotaur is my absolute favourite, so! Minotaurs!

The classical minotaur was the son of Pasiphaë and the unwilling stepson of King Minos of Knossos: born with the body of a man and the head and tail of a bull, he was declared monstrous and trapped within the labyrinthine maze beneath the great palaces of Knossos, until the hero Theseus came to slay him dead.

Today, the minotaur is the name for any half-bull half-human delight, tragic or otherwise.

Alternate: You needn’t limit yourself to a half-bull half-human if you feel the need to abandon literal perfection — go for the drider, perhaps, a half-human half-spider, return to the merfolk of several prompts above, and go half-human, half-fish, the satyr, half-goat half-human.

Whatever it is, make it half-human, half-something else, and then decide:

Is your monster cursed? Were they made this way, were they born this way? Are they happy? Are they the same as their family members, or are they different? If they are the latter, are they loved and accepted, or made an exile?

What are the benefits and negatives to their physical appearance and to their biology? Are there any aspects that might be unexpected?

Are they viewed by people in general as frightening, intimidating, unusual, strange, incredibly sexy? Are they treated as a monster?

Monday 31st May 2021 — Happily Ever After

The monster lives happily ever after…

What does that look like?

Alternate: Or, your monster has a tragic ending — because you’re the monster, apparently! 😒😭

-------------

Thanks so much for considering taking part in the #MonstrousMayChallenge!

If you want to do any of the above prompts, or if you want to do them all, but you’re not a writer or an artist, or you are but you’re not always in the mood for art, here’s a list of alternate activities you can do to tick off the prompts!

Do some worldbuilding, analysis, meta, or discussion of common tropes within or related to the prompt

Shitpost or make jokes or memes about or related to the prompt

Do some aesthetic or graphic posts

Watch movies or TV episodes, read comics, or consume other media, related to the prompts

Make rec lists for other people of movies or TV episodes or books (or other media!) related to the prompts

Comment on and show some love for other prompt fills in the #MonsterMayChallenge tag! Share your favourite work and support fellow creators!

I’m on Twitter, and will be posting about the challenge throughout, but I also write other short stories and books!

Check out my Patreon, my stories on Medium, my books for sale, and my WorldAnvil — and if you would like to, feel free to leave a tip!

#as defined by dictionary #monstrousmaychallenge #monsters #writing prompt #writing challenge #rb to signal boost!

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kythed · 3 years

Text

an age of miracles

synopsis: why do the most beautiful people always seem to get the short end of the stick?

tagged: atsumu miya x reader, mentions of illness, mentions of god.

commitment level: 3,617 words.

hospitals are liminal spaces. transitional, gateways between birth and death and the whole mess in between. (life.) they’re sites of both tragedy and miraculous recovery, and you’re not yet too old to stop praying for the latter.

his name is atsumu. you skim the documents pinned to his door — atsumu miya. age 21. cirrhosis.

cirrhosis is late stage liver scarring. nasty stuff. evidently, atsumu miya is in his third stage — portal hypertension. abdominal swelling. jaundice.

for a bedridden guy with a serious illness, he’s not as justifiably depressed as one might assume.

“hey, doc,” he says when you come in. he’s facing the window, letting the sunlight cast a saintly halo across his cheeks. blonde hair, an angular sort of face that’s been hollowed by illness. in another life, he might’ve been handsome.

you clear your throat, and he glances back, surprised. “ah. you’re not my doctor.”

“nope. nursing student.” you sit at the foot of his bed. “i’ll be monitoring you the next month or so as part of my studies.”

“monitoring,” he repeats drily. “you make it sound like i’m a lab specimen in a test tube.”

“means you’re special.”

“sure. ‘specially fucked up.” he’s younger than you are, but there’s an aged weariness in his gaze.

“aren’t we all, mr. miya?”

he cracks a grin. “touche. call me atsumu, though. mr. miya’s my dad.”

“as you wish, mr. miya,” you say, biting back a smile. (there are those who say sarcasm has no place in hospitals. you do not fall into this category.)

atsumu likes to play chess. the second day of your clinical, he’s got a travel sized chess board set up on his bedside table. “been dying from boredom the past few hours. think you could take a break from ‘monitoring’ me to play a game?”

you set your clipboard down. “i could. i’d advise against it, though. i’m a pretty good player.”

atsumu grins. “not better than me.”

he’s right. he beats you three games in a row before you finally snag a checkmate. (and you suspect this is only due to pity.)

“what’d i tell you, baby?” he crows, and you shake your head, raising your arms in surrender.

“it was an off day. if i’d been on my game i could’ve swept the floor with you.”

“prove it,” atsumu says, leaning forward. he’s pale from a lack of sunshine, but you notice a faint pink glow in his cheeks now. “come back tomorrow.”

tomorrow’s a saturday, and you don’t have clinical. “of course i will.”

you’re not one to back down from a challenge, no matter how trivial. plus, atsumu is fun. (and kind of cute.)

“hi. brought you something.” you set a tupperware of cubed fruit on atsumu’s lap before pulling up a chair next to the bed.

“did you make this?” he says, eyes wide.

“i just chopped up a few apples and stuff,” you say, plucking a blueberry from the container and popping it into your mouth.

atsumu shakes his head before biting into a chunk of pineapple. “you’d think it’d be hard to mess up fruit salad, but somehow this damn hospital can make a strawberry taste like cough medicine. everything they serve here tastes like cough medicine, actually.”

“delicious.”

“disgusting.” atsumu sets up the chess board. “so, like, thanks. for the fruit. can i keep the tupperware?”

you laugh. “why do you wanna keep the tupperware?”

“it’s a reminder of normality.” atsumu shrugs. “i only ever eat off chipped hospital dishes here.”

your chest throbs. “oh, atsumu.”

“don’t you ‘oh, atsumu’ me,” he says, rolling his eyes.

“sorry. yeah, you can keep it.”

(he wins at chess again.)

you’re only required to come in to the hospital three times a week, but you get into the habit of visiting atsumu every day. the first time you visit after class, you’re wearing a sweater and jeans. atsumu wolf whistles.

“damn. you look good when you’re not in scrubs.”

“are you saying i don’t rock scrubs?” you press a hand to your chest in mock offense.

“nobody looks good in scrubs,” atsumu says. “except for me, probably. i look good in anything.”

you laugh. “i believe it.”

“you’d better.” atsumu has a nice smile, you notice, wide and shiny.

you plop yourself down beside him on the bed. “hey, you wanna see a picture i took on the way here? i found a stray cat near the convenience store.”

“i’m a dog person,” atsumu says, but he nonetheless leans forward to get a look at your phone. “oh, cute.”

“isn’t he?” you say, zooming in on the little orange cat. “i think i’m gonna name him after you.”

“what?” atsumu huffs. “why?”

“because he’s good at chess,” you say.

atsumu furrows his brow. “you played chess with a cat?”

“no, i just have a feeling,” you hum, and atsumu rolls his eyes with a small smile.

“you’re stupid.”

you slip your phone back into your pocket. “in a cute way, though.”

“if you say so,” atsumu says, and you flick his shoulder. “ouch. way to bully a sick man.”

“you deserved it,” you laugh, and he joins in.

“yeah, i did.”

the next time you visit, atsumu’s family is there. his parents have kind, tired faces.

“nice to meet you,” his mom says, grasping your hand warmly. “i’m glad atsumu has a friend here.”

“mom,” complains atsumu. “i have friends.”

“none as cool as me, though,” you tease, and he smiles.

“you’re right,” he says, and his dad rumples his hair before turning to shake your hand.

“it’s great to meet you, mr. miya,” you say, returning the shake.

“the pleasure’s mine,” he says. he looks nearly identical to atsumu, just a little grayer. right next to him, there’s a boy who really does look exactly identical to atsumu, though his hair’s dyed dark and he’s a little more filled out. he has an air of begrudging maturity about him, the telltale sign of a young man who’s been forced to carry burdens that aren’t his.

“i’m osamu,” he says. he’s sitting on the chair near atsumu’s bed. “this little asshole’s brother.”

“i don’t know why you keep calling me little,” atsumu says, lightly punching osamu’s forearm. “i’m the older twin.”

“yeah, but you act like a baby.” osamu grins and leans out of reach when atsumu tries to swat at him. you chuckle behind a hand, leaning back against the wall as mr. and mrs. miya question you about your studies and hobbies.

on your way out of the hospital a half hour later, you run into osamu at the lobby coffee shop.

“so,” he says, sipping from a steaming cup. “you’re a nursing student?”

“mm,” you say, handing a fiver to the cashier to pay for your sandwich. “i’m in my fourth year at hyogo university. are you in college, too?”

“nah,” says osamu. “i play volleyball. professionally, i mean.”

“oh!” you notice the lettering on his sports jacket for the first time. msby black jackals. “that’s really cool.”

osamu shrugs. “sometimes it is. tsumu’s wanted to be a pro player since we were kids — but he won’t ever be able to do that now, of course. so that’s why i play. better to have one miya in the pro circuit than none at all.”

your heart sinks. “you’re a great brother, osamu.”

osamu shakes his head. “i’m really not. it should’ve been me in that hospital bed.”

“osamu…” you trail off as osamu just shakes his head, giving you a sad smile.

“it was nice meeting you,” he says before tossing his cup and heading back towards the elevators.

“no,” atsumu says staunchly, crossing his arms. “definitely not. i don’t read.”

“come on,” you wheedle, dangling the book in front of his face. “it’s one of my favorites, and i thought it might stave off some of that stifling boredom you always complain about.”

“i’m bored, but not that bored,” atsumu says, squinting at the book. “what is that about, anyways? the little prince? sounds lame.”

“it’s not lame,” you promise, bouncing slightly on the bed. atsumu sniffs. “okay, what if i read it to you? you don’t have to do anything but listen.”

“i’m not a child.”

“you’re acting like one.”

atsumu throws his hands up in defeat. “alright, fine. you win. we can read the little prince.”

“excellent.” you beam. “scoot over?”

“what?” atsumu says, but he scoots to the side of his bed as you kick your shoes off and curl up next to him. you feel his breath hitch as he lightly lets his arm curve around your waist.

you sigh, content, and flip to read the first page. “once when I was six years old I saw a magnificent picture in a book…”

it takes three visits to finish the entire story. atsumu sniffles when you read the last line, rubbing his eyes furiously.

“did he die?”

you trace a light circle on atsumu’s palm, smiling slightly. “i don’t know. i think it’s up to the reader to decide. he left his body, but is that really death? or is it just… moving on?”

“i think he just moved on,” insists atsumu. “he moved on and returned to the stars. he was just a kid. he was too young to have died.”

“look at you,” you tease, and atsumu flushes. “waxing on poetic.”

“it was good,” atsumu says gruffly. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” you breathe, and when atsumu buries his face in your neck, you realize he’s crying.

he kisses you for the first time a week later. it’s late in the afternoon, and both your faces are tinged with gold. he slips a hand beneath your jaw, and you let him slowly guide your lips to meet his. they’re soft, hesitant, and sweet, pressing against yours with an uncharacteristic shyness.

you sigh happily when he pulls you forward to straddle his lap, slipping your hands into his thick blonde hair, letting him press light kisses down the length of your neck.

“hey, beautiful,” he breathes into your collarbone, and you laugh.

“hey, pretty boy. nice to see you today.”

atsumu’s discovered a newfound love for reading ever since you read the little prince outloud to him. you’ve been bringing him secondhand books from the thrift store near your house, and now there’s a sizeable stack of novels out on the table.

“i think i’ve read more in the past couple months than i ever read in high school,” he admits, running a finger down the spine of treasure island. “you’ve turned me into a nerd.”

“you’re welcome,” you say, straightening his collar.

“it’s kind of nice, though,” he says thoughtfully, tossing the book back on the table. “to read about all these different people, all the things they do. all the stories i’m never gonna get to experience.”

“you’re getting to experience them through reading,” you correct. “that’s the beauty of fiction.”

atsumu laughs. “you’re such a sap.”

“it’s true,” you insist. “god knows life is too short to live through everything we’d like to. that’s why he gave us imagination.”

“do you believe in god?” atsumu asks softly. his stare grows distant.

you think for a moment. “sometimes i do. do you?”

“same. sometimes.” he fiddles with the hem of his shirt. “sometimes i wonder, though… like, if there’s a god, why does he hate me?”

you chew on your cheek. “why do you feel hated?”

atsumu laughs a laugh tinged with slight bitterness. “sweetheart… i’m not going to live past twenty-five, if even that.”

you swallow the knot in your throat, letting it sink deep into your stomach where it sits like a lump of copper. “well… the little prince is less than a hundred pages. sometimes the shortest books are the best reads.”

atsumu nods silently. he’s not convinced. you’re not sure if you are, either.

atsumu sleeps a lot these days. you spend as much time with him as you can, but more often than not, he’s in a half conscious daze, curled up beneath the white hospital comforter. during these times, you just set your backpack by the door the slip into bed next to him, wrapping yourself around his back and pressing your palms to his chest just to feel his heartbeat. it’s faint, but it’s steady and rhythmic. ba-dump. ba-dump. ba-dump.

sometimes, atsumu’s his usual, lively self, cracking bad jokes and poking fun at you. his smiling face has come to be your favorite picture. on these days, you bring him a hot chocolate from the coffee shop and split it with him, kissing off the whipped cream that finds its way onto his lips. he still likes to play chess, and, though he won’t admit it, you’ve been getting better. one day, you beat him, two games to one.

there are solemn, quiet times, and there are bright, cheerful times, but you savor all of them. every moment spent with atsumu is valuable in your book. occasionally, you’ll go with him out into the hospital garden, into the warmth of the sun. every so often he’ll stop, lean on you to catch his breath, but he never complains.

“look,” he’ll say instead, pointing at a vine of jasmine, or a single daisy swaying in the breeze. “almost as pretty as you.”

one day, as you’re leaving atsumu’s room, you run into his doctor in the hall.

“keep your chin up,” she says, straightening her glasses. “it’s possible he could still recover. strong young men often do.”

you nod slowly. “is he going to need a transplant?”

“well,” says the doctor, clicking on her pen absentmindedly. “if it gets any worse, yes. but i’m going to be honest with you — it’s unlikely we’ll find a donation with both a matching blood type and in good condition.”

“ah.”

“so just hope for the best.” she slips into his room before you can say another word, leaving you to lean heavily against the wall, staring at nothing in particular. miracles happen every day, you remind yourself. there’s no reason atsumu shouldn’t be the recipient of one.

“hey,” atsumu says. he whispers your name with an unusual tenderness. “i have to talk to you.”

it’s been five months since you first met atsumu on a clinical, and it’s been three months since he began to call you his girlfriend. you lace your fingers between his, giving his hand a light squeeze. “yeah, ‘tsumu?”

he takes a deep, shuddering breath. “i don’t think i’m going to… be here much longer.”

“no,” you say, chest tightening. “don’t say that. you’re gonna be fine.”

“sweetheart,” he says, voice low. he takes your chin and firmly turns your head to look at him. “i’m sorry. you know i am. i just… i’m sick. it’s hard to think straight sometimes, so i just wanted to tell you before i can’t anymore.”

“tell me what?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

“tell you that i love you.”

“atsumu,” you breathe. a frustrated tear finds its way down your cheek. “i… i love you, too. but please… just hang on. they’ll find a donor. they have to.”

“they might not,” he says, and he smiles, pulling you close. you knot your hands in the front of his t-shirt, pressing your face to his chest. “don’t cry. i’m just going to go live in the stars, right? like the little prince.”

there’s so many things you want to say, like, you nerd, can’t believe you’re making literary allusions or shut up, asshole, or i’ll miss you if you do, but you say nothing, because if you open your mouth you’re sure you’ll just sob.

“don’t cry,” he says again, but he’s crying, and you lift your face to see the tears streaming. “i love you.”

your throat is too thick to say it back, but he sees it in your eyes. i love you, too.

you spend the rest of the night with him before leaving at a little past 2am, and the next morning, you get a text from osamu.

he’s gone.

you don’t cry at the funeral. it’s small, just his family, a group of close friends, and you. you don’t look in the casket, either, because you want to remember his smile, and empty bodies don’t. you sip on a paper cup of water and lean against a wall, where osamu finds you.

“hey,” he says, and you nod in return. “he left this for you.”

you take the letter from him, and after he gives your shoulder a squeeze and heads back to his parents, you tear it open.

hey, you. i’m writing this two months after you first came into my room in that god-awful set of scrubs. right now, you’re napping in the chair near my bed. you look cute. we had our first kiss last week, and i’m still walking on air. fuck, that sounds dorky. oh, well. guess i’m a dork. only for you, though.

anyways, if you’re reading this, it’s because i’ve died. whoop-dee-doo. i’ve moved on to the great beyond. i’ve fallen past the veil. whatever it is you nerds like to say. there are probably things i’m going to say to you in the next few months that are a little more… intimate, i guess? but i wanted to tell you this while it’s still fresh in my mind: you’ve honest-to-goodness saved my life. i mean, it might not go on for much longer, sure, but you really have, in a way. being sick is weird. it makes you a lot more sensitive to miracles.

you start. you don’t remember ever talking to atsumu about miracles.

someone from the outside might look at me and call me unlucky, but i feel pretty damn lucky right now. meeting you was without a doubt a miracle, and if i never got sick, it never would’ve happened. take that as you will, i guess. all i know is i’m not angry at god, even though maybe i should be. i mean, i’m still not sure he’s even out there. but there’s gotta be something, or someone, because how the fuck else could i have possibly recieved something so… great? i sure as hell never did something to deserve it. (god, i sound stupid. but it’s just hard to chalk up to coincidence.)

anyways, i love you. not sure i’ll ever get the guts to say that out loud, so i’m saying it here. i love you, and i hope you love me, too.

- atsumu

“i do,” you whisper. “i do.”

on your way home, you stop at the convenience store for a bottled water, and the little orange cat comes out and winds itself around your leg, purring.

“hey, ‘tsumu,” you say, squatting down to scratch its head. “fancy a game of chess?”

it meows back.

“yeah?” your eyes grow wet, and you wipe them on the sleeve of your sweater. “wanna come home with me?”

it meows again, and this time, you break out into full scale crying. you’re not sure if you’re imagining it, but you think you can see a tear in the cat’s eye, too.

he follows you home, and the next day, you purchase a water dish, a big bag of cat food, and a blue collar. (blue was atsumu’s favorite color.)

three years later.

“honey?”

“yeah?”

your husband comes out from the hall, buttoning up his shirt. “you almost ready to go?”

“almost, ‘samu,” you say, slipping on a bracelet. your hands are shaking, and he notices it, too. today’s the third anniversary of atsumu’s death, and it’s also the date of osamu’s first big press conference. “he’d be so proud of you, you know.”

osamu smiles. “he would. he’d be proud of you, too.”

you laugh. “what for? for marrying his little brother?”

“no, he’d probably be kind of pissed at me,” osamu jokes, before coming to stand behind you. he wraps his hands around your waist. “he’d be proud of you for finding happiness, i think.”

“i am happy,” you say, tilting your head as osamu presses a kiss to your temples. there’s a beat of silence. “but i miss him.”

“i do, too.” osamu rests his chin on your head. “he probably misses us.”

“mm,” you say. “i think he might be having too much fun for that, actually.”

“maybe,” says osamu, and he leans forward to grab the keys from the counter. “i’m gonna go heat up the car, okay?”

“sounds good,” you say, as the cat dashes into the room with a meow. a nameplate that reads ‘tsumu’ dangles from his collar. “oh, hey kitty. i forgot to feed you. i’ll be out in a minute!”

after you fill the cat’s dish and pull on a cardigan over your dress, you slip outside, shivering in the night air. the sky is clear and full of stars, and as you walk to the car, you crane your neck up to see.

“hope you’re doing well, ‘tsumu,” you whisper to the gleaming constellations.

you still have things you want to say to him, even after all these years. you want to ask him how the weather in the cosmos is, and if the fruit salad is better up there. you want to ask if he’s read any good books lately, or if he’s seen how great osamu’s serve has gotten recently. you want to laugh with him.

most of all, though, you want to let him know that he was your miracle, too.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fanfiction #atsumu #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #miya atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader

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btsqualityy · 3 years

Text

Assuage: Chapter 21

Yoongi x Reader

Genre: ABO (Alpha/Beta/Omega) dynamics, angst, fluff, smut, enemies to lovers

Warnings: Brief mention of abuse.

When Yoongi woke up the next morning, the first thing that he realized was that you were already awake and scenting him with your nose pressed against his scent gland.

“Baby?” He called out questioningly and you just hummed in reply. “You ok?”

“I can’t just scent you?” You murmured.

“Of course you can, it just seemed a little random,” he chuckled deeply. “And you usually ask first.”

“I missed you a lot, even though it was only a day,” you confessed as you pulled your nose away and looked up at him. “You didn’t smell like me anymore and that makes my Omega uncomfortable.”

“Well, scent away,” Yoongi said as he lifted his neck to expose his neck and you dove back in, taking your time as you dragged your nose along his skin.

“You’re gonna have to go and talk to my brother,” you whispered and Yoongi just sighed heavily.

“Do I really have to?” He huffed. “He almost killed me, Y/N-ah.”

“Joon could never kill anyone, unless provoked,” you told him as you sat up and looked down at him. “And yes, you have to go talk to him since he technically cast you out of the pack but all you have to do is tell him exactly what you told me last night.”

“And he’ll let it go?”

“My brother can be a dick but he can also be pretty understanding so I think so,” you nodded. “And even if he doesn’t, I’ll have your back.”

“Fuck, fine,” Yoongi relented and you leaned down to press a kiss to his lips.

After the two of you showered, got dressed, and ate, you led him across the territory to the Head Hall and up the stairs to the second floor where Namjoon’s office was located.

“I see everything worked out between you two,” Taehyung smirked when he saw the two of you walking up to his desk, hand in hand.

“Don’t be so smug about it,” you rolled your eyes.

“I’m guessing that you’re here to speak to Joon hyung,” Taehyung guessed, and you and Yoongi both nodded in confirmation. “Well, lucky for you guys: he just got out of a war strategy meeting with Hobi hyung and he looked pretty pissed off.”

“Gee, thanks Taehyung,” Yoongi grumbled, making Taehyung laugh out loud.

“He’s free right now, so go ahead in,” Taehyung said as he waved towards the door of Namjoon’s office.

“Uh, give me a sec,” you told Yoongi and he nodded before pressing a kiss to your cheek and walking over to wait in front of the office door.

“What’s up?” Taehyung wondered as he looked at you.

“I just, uh, wanted to say thank you,” you said. “For figuring out that something was amiss and going to find Yoongi.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that,” Taehyung shrugged with a smile. “It was the right thing to do. He makes you so happy Y/N-ah, and I wasn’t going to let Seo-hyun fuck that up for you.”

“You know, I think Joon and I are very lucky that Mom and Dad fought to keep you,” you told him, which made him grin widely. “Joon and I would be a pair of bumbling idiots without you.”

“Mom said you two would need me,” Taehyung puffed his chest out proudly. “I love you Y/N-ah.”

“I love you more Tae,” you cooed, leaning over his desk and gently kissing his cheek before pulling back. “Now wish us luck.”

“Good luck,” he smirked knowingly and you turned around and walked over to the door, joining Yoongi who had been patiently waiting.

“Here goes nothing,” you sighed as you reached up and knocked on the door three times.

“Come in,” Namjoon’s muffled voice called out and you opened the door, poking your head inside.

“You free?” You asked and he nodded his head. You then stepped inside, pulling Yoongi in behind you as well before shutting the door.

“Ok, now before you start yelling,” you began before Namjoon even had the chance to start talking. “Let me explain.”

“I’m not gonna yell Y/N-ah,” Namjoon chuckled as he sat back in his desk chair and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“You’re...not?”

“Nope,” he replied. “Taehyung came and explained everything to me yesterday. He woke the girls up from their naps and pissed Hyo off in the process, but he told me nonetheless.”

“Of course he did,” you laughed in disbelief.

“Yoongi, I’d like to apologize,” Namjoon said as he looked over at Yoongi. “I didn’t allow you the opportunity to explain yourself and for that, I was wrong.”

“It’s ok,” Yoongi shrugged. “I know that as Pack Alpha, everyone’s safety is your main priority so I don’t blame you.”

“It’s also a part of my job as Pack Alpha to trust my pack members, just as they trust me to be able to lead you all,” Namjoon explained. “So, I would like to invite you, formally, to become a permanent member of this pack.”

“I’d love to,” Yoongi grinned widely.

“Great,” Namjoon smiled.

“Congratulations baby!” You exclaimed, leaning over and kissing him firmly. “Tae’s gonna flip!”

“He’s probably listening at the door so he already knows,” Namjoon said.

“I resent that!” You heard Taehyung scream through the door, which made all three of you laugh.

“Um, I wanted to ask you something,” Yoongi said as he looked at Namjoon. “Is the fight still on?”

“Yes, it is,” Namjoon sighed. “We have five days until Seo-hyun said that he was going to be back.”

“I’d like to fight with you all,” Yoongi announced, causing both your and Namjoon’s eyes to widen.

“What?” You questioned.

“Yoongi, you don’t have to do that,” Namjoon told him.

“Yeah, you don’t,” you agreed.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Yoongi asked.

“For one thing, you’ve never fought in a war from what Taehyung told me last night,” Namjoon pointed out. “And for two, you’d be fighting against your former pack. I know that they treated you terribly but it still will probably be hard for you.”

“That might be true but this is my pack now,” Yoongi stated firmly. “And I want to fight to protect it.” A few seconds of silence passed over the room then before Namjoon spoke up again.

“Alright, fine,” Namjoon relented. “We’ll have to get you in training right away.”

“Alright,” Yoongi nodded before turning to look at you. “Don’t be mad at me please.”

“I’m not,” you assured him. “But we can talk more about it later.”

“I love you,” Yoongi cooed and you smiled at him.

“I love you too,” you replied.

..........................................................

Later that night, after going to training with Namjoon, Hobi, Jungkook, and some other Alphas and Omegas, Yoongi was out amongst the trees at the edge of the territory. After the (albeit shirt) amount of time that the two of you were apart, you still weren’t the biggest fan of being away from him so he had decided to chop some more wood for your place before meeting you back there.

As he was doing so though, he was shocked when he heard rustling from beyond a cluster of trees.

“Who’s there?” He called out, pausing in order to listen better. When he didn’t receive an answer, he gripped onto the handle of the ax that he was holding tighter.

“I’m Prime asshole, so think about your next steps very carefully,” Yoongi warned and a shadowy figure stepped out from behind a tree and when they stepped closer, Yoongi couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Yeah well, tell me something that I don’t know,” the man laughed and Yoongi just gaped at him in disbelief.

“Kihyun?” He called as the Alpha walked closer to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“Well, I was hoping to receive a better greeting than that from one of my closest friends,” Kihyun joked and Yoongi just laughed before launching himself at Kihyun, hugging him tightly.

“What are you doing here?” Yoongi repeated as he pulled away from the hug. “You would’ve been detained or killed if anyone else caught you.”

“I know but I had to come and see you,” Kihyun replied. “After Seo-hyun came back and announced that you were still alive, I had to see it for myself.”

“That was really dangerous and stupid of you Kihyun,” Yoongi told him.

“I’ve spent the last six months thinking that you were dead,” Kihyun shot back. “You can’t blame me.”

“Yeah well,” Yoongi shrugged. “How have you been though? Everyone been treating you ok?”

“I’m fine hyung,” Kihyun nodded. “I see that you’re ok too.”

“Yeah, the Kim Pack took me in,” Yoongi said.

“I hope that doesn’t mean that you plan on fighting with them in a few days.”

“Actually, it does.”

“Why would you do that?” Kihyun wondered. “You can’t fight against your pack.”

“They’re my old pack and if you remember correctly, they left me for dead,” Yoongi pointed out. “This is my new pack and I am going to fight to protect it from Seo-hyun because I don’t want him doing the same thing to them that he did to our pack.”

“Seo-hyun just wants us to be strong,” Seo-hyun tried to say.

“And he has to abuse people and try to take over other packs in order to do that?” Yoongi demanded to know. “Kihyun, I love you. You’re the person that kept me sane all of those years after my parents died and I’ll always appreciate you for it, but you can’t seriously believe that what Seo-hyun is doing is right.”

“....I didn’t come here to argue with you hyung,” Kihyun finally said after a few moments of silence. “I just wanted to come and see you.”

“Despite everything, I am happy to see you kid,” Yoongi smiled gently. “Even if it was dumb.”

“I love you hyung,” Kihyun said before hugging Yoongi again.

“I love you too,” Yoongi responded before letting go of Kihyun. “Be safe.” Kihyun nodded and just as quick as he had appeared, Yoongi watched as he disappeared back into the trees.

..........................................................

Tag List: @jikook-enthusiasts @veryuniquenamegoeshere @seolarsyj @littlrmills14-blog @preciouschimine @kt-rny @copenhagenspirit @min-yus @cheysjimin @to-the-joon-and-back @jaiuneamesolitaiire @icycoldbeanieweanies @barbikatherine

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ishibishie · 3 years

Text

i said i would maybe do this two weeks ago but i'm on a steven loving high and i saw a stupid post that was basically brainless bashing and hate in his tag so i'm here to fix this with steven love and ramble about the baby boy with a........

27 RANDOM STEVEN HEADCANONS POST!

uh cw for mentioning dead parents ig. there's a lot of dead parent stuff here sorry

- steven is asexual and aromantic. he discovered this a bit "late" when he was about 20 years old. despite his high profile in hoenn, he isn't very open about his sexuality and has only come out to a handful of close friends, the first being wallace. it was also wallace who gave him the black ring he wears.

- steven is half galarian on his mother's side. he would often visit the region with her before she died, and steven has very fond memories of watching gym matches: those battles are what inspired him to become a pokemon trainer along with his mother having been one herself in galar before she moved to hoenn. his favorite place in galar is wyndon city and he loves finding any excuse to hop aboard the trains scattered throughout the region to see all the unique scenery pass by and collect rare new stones for his collection.

- he adores space and astronomy! when he can't sleep he'll go outside and look at the stars until he eventually dozes off. this also led him to look into the mythology behind the constellations he sees, and he's had a few passionate conversations with cynthia about pokemon mythology.

- when nervous, steven tends to bite his nails. this has led to many scoldings and impromptu manicure sessions from wallace!

- his biggest fear is ghost type pokemon as he hates thinking about the concept of death. he also dislikes very strong thunderstorms, and being left alone for long amounts of time.

- as a result of his pampered childhood, steven is a bit of an attention seeker. he tends to get fussy and impatient when nobody acknowledges or listens to him. there was an isolated incident of steven throwing a pebble he had in his pocket at someone to make them pay attention when he was at his limit.

- likewise, he absolutely hates getting dirty when he's not caving. a single blemish of dirt on his nice clothes will drive him mad. he hates being disorganized and is a bit of a clean freak.

- he's a big contest fanboy! if a day off and a contest line up on the same day, expect to see steven somewhere in the audience cheering the coordinators on.

- steven and his father have a rocky relationship ever since his mother died. steven always wanted to become a pokemon trainer like his mother, but his father wanted him to take over the devon corporation one day. this unwanted pressure from his father ultimately led to steven running away from home to pursue his dreams when he was 14. now, they're still on speaking terms, but that's not to say steven looks forward to and enjoys their conversations. things only got worse when steven came out to his father and was brushed off as "going through a phase". despite everything, steven one day wishes to reconcile with his father and hopes that they can be as close as they were before his mother died.

- the one thing steven regrets most is never saying goodbye to his mother. the last thing he told her was "see you tomorrow!" before she died the very next day

- he met wallace during the time he ran away from home. the two met in lilycove city, where wallace was practicing for a contest and steven happened to be in the city. steven was intrigued by wallace's skills and ability to charm him with his pokemon. the first thing steven said to wallace was a compliment about his pokemon and the two decided to spend the day hanging out. they've been best friends ever since, and steven tends to see wallace as the big brother he never had and his main source of advice.

- he loves to write, whether it's journalling or taking notes about the rare stones he finds. however, he uses the same notebook for everything so his journal entries are often bordered by crammed-in notes about rocks. good luck reading anything, though: he has very small and cursive handwriting.

- steven is a disaster in the kitchen. the only thing he can make without any risk of burning his house down is a cup of tea.

- he's a big nature lover! in contrast to his sheltered life as the son of the ceo of a big business, he enjoys looking at flower gardens and finds any chance he can to lay down on a grassy hill and let the world move by without a care.

- he enjoys classical music and can play the flute!

- due to how he grew up without many real friends as a kid, steven tends to act a bit childish in personal social situations. he'll simply say whatever's on his mind without thinking twice and randomly cut in whenever someone else is speaking. not to mention he's terrible at holding eye contact. more "professional" conversations are where he shines as his parents taught him everything about etiquette.

- steven is polite to a fault: he usually has trouble telling people no and doesn't like to intrude on other people's conversations even if he was invited to such a conversation. it can make normal small talk awkward for both parties.

- his favorite place in hoenn is sootopolis city. he adores being surrounded by history while chatting with wallace at a local cafe, not to mention taking in the beautiful scenery at night.

- clear, sunny days are his favorites. when he travels to a colder region and gets caught in a sudden snowfall, he likes to watch it snow as it's an extreme rarity in hoenn.

- he loves to read and often wears a pair of reading glasses when he finds the time to open a book.

- steven carries a few special items with him wherever he goes: these include his key stone, the first gym badge he ever earned, an old pocket knife that belonged to his mother, and his mother's galar gym challenge league card.

- he's great at various card games. it's best to cut your losses if you make a bet with steven and he pulls out a deck of cards!

- it's easy to tell if steven is lying: he'll always rock back on his heels and bite his lower lip when doing so. using this knowledge is limited however, as steven doesn't tend to lie very often.

- his favorite food is galarian curry, especially the kind his mother used to make. he also enjoys sampling the cuisine from other regions, especially kalos. when it's time for dessert, he'll never pass up: he's got a bit of a sweet tooth!

- steven is a very laid-back person and hardly anything can really upset him. he tends to laugh off any embarrassing blunders he makes and will sometimes make small quips and jokes at his own expense. however, saying anything bad about the devon corporation will cause him to go on a profane offense, a bit ironic considering his odd and shaky relationship with the company.

- steven wears his jacket everywhere he goes. he's always complaining about being cold and it baffles everyone how he can keep wearing his blazer even in the dead heat of hoenn's summers. since he's always freezing, you can often find him at home wrapped in the fluffiest blanket he owns near the fire.

- even though he's champion of hoenn, steven still feels like he's working towards his initial dream of making his mother proud. he really only sees his championship title as one of many steps he still wants to take to live the life and dreams his mother hoped he would achieve!

(i copy pasted this from my phone notes so if the format is screwy, sorry!)

EDIT 8-30-21: yes i lowkey made this post to combat the people who are bashing on steven for getting a mega evolving rayquaza and posting this hate on his tag. it's fine to not like steven or how zinnia didn't get the mega rayray but for the love of god DON'T post hate in steven's tag! the people checking his tag are people who like him and we really don't appreciate you mindlessly calling our baby boy a racist bitch because you're salty. i'm sure you wouldn't like it if i went into zinnia's tag and posted "haha suck it side character" so. don't be a bitch. be considerate, okay?

#steven stone #headcanons #he's just such a good little bean #not art

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blouisparadise · 3 years

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Here are so many amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of November. We hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Work Me Breathless | Explicit | 1678 words

Note: this is the sequel to this fic.

Louis visits Harry at work after the doctor got a new promotion. They christen his new office...

Louis leaves a little breathless.

2) Skeletons In My Closet | Not Rated | 2051 words

Basically soft core porn. Harry decided to treat Louis on Halloween.

3) Looks Like We Made It, Look How Far We’ve Come, My Baby | Teen & Up | 2161 words

Louis and Harry are going to officially move in together, they’ve chosen the house and everything is ready, they just need to wait a few months before the owner gives them the keys.

So what’s the problem, you may ask. Well, they’ve been arguing for days and Louis is honestly considering strangling his alpha with one his ridiculously ugly designer scarf. Okay, not really. But he’s going to lose it soon if they don’t stop fighting.

4) Little Devil | Explicit | 2241 words

The pair had just finished taking a round of shots when the one and only Harry Styles saunters over, clapping Niall on the back to say hello. “Louis,” he drawls out, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s raking his eyes over the smaller boy. “You know this is a costume party, right?” Louis rolls his eyes, starting to ramble on about how he is in a costume and what a nit Harry is when he gets it. Harry is saying Louis is a devil.

“And what are you supposed to be Styles? An angel, really?”

“It’s a costume Lou, ’s not supposed to be real,” he says with a smirk, sliding past Louis but stopping long enough to whisper, “I can assure you, I’m no angel baby.”

5) After the Lilo Kiss | Explicit | 2477 words

"I guess I need to show you who you belong to, hmm baby boy?" he growled in my ear while choking me with his other hand.

6) Oh So Thankful | Explicit | 3034 words

Or the one where Louis and Harry both stay at college for Thanksgiving break, and decide to spend the holiday together.

7) Tell Me What You Want (What You Need) | Mature | 3246 words

Louis didn’t plan on getting laid tonight. When he invited Harry over the day before, it was completely innocent. Just two lads hanging out. He still doesn’t plan on it, no matter how hard he’s getting as Harry’s fingernails start scraping over his nipples lightly every time they pass.

8) Calling Out For Someone To Hold Tonight | Not Rated | 3819 words

Harry’s straight. Louis isnt. They still manage to fall in love.

9) Your Love Delights My Soul | Explicit | 4186 words

"Alpha..." Louis moaned against Harry's lips, chasing the friction against his thigh.

"You are my one and only," Harry bit his jaw, "And you know it quite well. Pretty sure I remind you every night, but you have to rile me, have to make me angry. Why, Omega?"

10) Life and Death | Explicit | 4122 words

In which Louis is Life and Harry is Death.

11) When You Turn Off The Lights | Explicit | 4305 words

Gothie Louis/Normie Harry.

12) On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine | Explicit | 9261 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

13) Let's Break The Internet | Explicit | 9505 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here. Please note that the pairing for this fic is Louis/OMC.

The one where Louis is an Only Fans baby.

14) With the Certainty Of Tides | Mature | 13980 words

“Love you,” Louis whispered in the dark. He didn’t know what time it was or where the light had gone, he knew that he was in Harry’s arms, basking in the afterglow of all their love and he’d be a fool to not tell Harry that. As if Harry didn’t know.

“Love you,” was whispered back, as if Louis didn’t know. They confessed to each other as if it was their first time saying it, raw and painful, and listened to it the very same way, but they knew those words to be the only ones true.

With all the certainty of the tides, with all the light from the sun, with all the steady beats of their hearts, they were deftly in love, in secret and so loudly. They were brave and fearless and strong and hopelessly devoted in every sense of their breaths.

“We made it, baby,” Harry mumbled, bringing their lips into a final kiss, sweet and soft and the color of pink. They already knew that, didn’t fight tooth and nail and argued through every petty year and bleed their hearts into the words they sang and on their skin for them to have not made it home.

They were home.

15) A Moment In Time | Explicit | 14004 words

The one where Harry and Louis used to be together, until they weren’t, but with a twist of fate and a bit of magic, could this be their chance to find forever in each other’s arms?

16) I'm Still A Little Bit Yours | Mature | 14921 words

“Harry?” Louis asked to the empty apartment. "What the hell?" He sat up on the bed, his comforter pooling around his waist. The place wasn’t big enough to lose someone. Harry must have left in the middle of the night. And then he felt it. The new twinge of pain in his already bruised heart. He forcefully threw his upper body back and grunted in frustration. Then he looked over to the bedside table and noticed a note under the cup of cold chamomile tea he never got around to drinking.

He reached over and there were only two words scrawled on the otherwise blank page, “I’m sorry.”

He was so damn stupid! He curled up on his side sobbing and trembling. He covered his face with the comforter, tears soaking his pillow, as he begged his body to go back to sleep.

17) I Couldn't Face A Life Without Your Lights | Mature | 15538 words

Louis and Harry are college students who haven't been the same in the past two years.

18) Practice In Pencil, Seal It In Pen | Explicit | 16486 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

19) Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) | Not Rated | 16683 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

The one where Harry wants a little more in the bedroom and has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth.

20) The Animals, The Animals | Not Rated | 16721 words

Admittedly, it’s not the first time Louis Tomlinson finds himself in handcuffs.

The difference this time is these handcuffs are attached to a year long sentence. Not just that, but a year long sentence sharing a cell with a possibly mute 19 year old with dark eyes and even darker secrets.

21) Colder Weather | Mature | 19103 words

When Harry comes around, it’s the coldest time of year. Louis, for once, just wants Harry to take him away from colder weather.

22) Across the Grey, Salty Sea | Explicit | 19968 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

23) Blinded By The Sparks | Explicit | 22205 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a scammer who drifts from casino to casino. Louis is the new waiter who wants in on the scam.

24) Rainbow Bloom | Mature | 22711 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis is in denial. Louis has been in denial for far too long. Then Harry enters his life and everything changes.

25) What A Sight For Sore Eyes | Not Rated | 24216 words

Louis’ playing Danny in their uni’s production of Grease. They’re missing a Sandy, and Harry’s sort of been in love with Louis for a year.

Everything else just kind of happens.

26) MISSING | Mature | 26950 words

Louis brothers report Louis missing after they can’t get hold of him for 24hours

Harry Styles and Charlie Stone, detectives of the teenage homicide and missing persons division, are long time friends of the Tomlinson's and take the case.

27) Even The Best Laid Plans | Explicit | 25175 words

Louis wants to have sex with someone and decides Harry is the perfect alpha for the job.

28) Sunflowers, Sunshine, And You | Explicit | 28778 words

Sunshine county is small but mighty and Harry takes pride in knowing nearly each and every person that lives inside of it. For nearly eleven years now he’s been sheriff, and not one of them he’s ever regretted settling down here.

He knows the road names like the back of his hand, knows the people and the animals and the way the world works here. In all of the time he’s been here, not a thing has changed.

So, all things considered, when he starts seeing a beat up pickup truck roaming through town with plates he’s never seen before, Harry, to be frank, jumps on that like a fly on fresh dog shit.

29) Blue Songs Are Like Tattoos | Explicit | 30739 words

“Good morning, University of California, you’re listening to KALX 90.7 FM Berkeley, this is DJ Harry Styles. If the owner of the tapes I’ve been finding around the studio doesn’t come forward and introduce himself, I’m going to continue tossing them straight in the trash!”

or the DJ Harry and Rockstar Louis fic.

30) Sweet Like Honey | Explicit | 33117 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

31) When Our Worlds They Fall Apart | Explicit | 42228 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen”

Prompt 325: Star Wars AU with Harry as Han Solo and Louis as Leia.

32) Somewhere In Between | Explicit | 42765 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Louis wakes up early. He brushes his teeth and can only stomach a piece of toast for breakfast, dressing quickly and heading for the car. He pulls into the parking lot of the Department of Dominance and Submission just as they’re unlocking the doors. It takes him all of an hour in the uncomfortable chairs to fill out the paperwork to the best and most accurate of his ability, handing it over to the receptionist as soon as he’s finished and wiping his sweaty palms on his business trousers.

There’s a high chance that within ten to fifteen business days, Louis will be matched with a dominant.

Shit.

33) Spoonful of Sugar | Explicit | 42900 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here. This fic is also a sequel to this fic.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

34) Breakable Heaven | Explicit | 44594 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

35) You're The Habit That I Can't Break | Not Rated | 44940 words

When Louis crosses paths with a green eyed stranger in prison, he learns that some habits aren't so bad.

36) Fine Line (The Story of Us) | Not Rated | 46191 words

Walking through Harry's album Fine Line. Each chapter reflects a song off the album.

Harry knew he was a lucky guy, really he did. He knew that in the cosmic pulling of straws he had pulled the long one and basically won the lottery. With a number one debut album, millions of adoring fans, and many a celebrity praising his work Harry should feel happier. He should be skipping instead of walking, singing instead of talking, and grinning from ear to ear. Maybe he was ungrateful. Maybe he was numb to it all. Or maybe he had a big, ocean-sized crush on his best friend.

37) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

38) A Silent Whisper (That's Left Unsaid) | Explicit | 50842 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.

39) Lost And Found | Explicit | 51736 words

Where Louis is just looking for his dog but finds love along the way.

40) Don't You Know That I'm a Moon in Daylight? | Explicit | 58770 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 79: Louis and Harry fell in love in the 18th century, Louis wanted Harry to convert him into a vampire, but he ended up resenting Harry for it. Fast forward to our modern days, they haven’t seen each other since then, but one day they meet again through a mutual friend. Harry was bitter for a long time, but he accepted that being angry wouldn't erase the fact that Louis was the love of his life. He wanted to court and spoil Louis like in their original time period, but Louis avoided him every time Harry tried to reconnect. Happy ending!

41) The Guesthouse | Explicit | 61951 words

Louis has a secret that could break him. With every trip to the Guesthouse, with every fuck he offers himself up for, he gets a piece of the freedom back that he's lost.

Seven nights a year he goes to the exclusive sex club; every day he fights to keep that little bit of information to himself.

And there's another thing - his unwavering and pointless obsession with his bandmate.

There's the Guesthouse, and then there's Harry, and Louis works tirelessly to keep the two apart. Soon, very soon now, he won't be able to.

42) My Friend Lost A Bet | Mature | 74965 words

The one where Louis ends up on the list of potential fake-boyfriends for Harry Styles because Stan really sucks at football bets.

43) In A Sea Of Mist | Explicit | 126725 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest. Check out the full collection here.

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #larry

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thefallennightmare · 3 years

Text

Vas Prizrak-Four

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Words: 1370

Warnings: swearing, some smut, fluff, lots of angst.

Summary: Bucky and Reader’s life in Wakanda had been everything they ever wanted. But when they are told about the fight that was on it’s way to them, they fear that life would be dusted away for good.

A/N: I’m hoping to get a few more chapters out today but who knows! Don’t forget, tags are open for this story still!

The sheets were cold, warmth fleeting a long time ago, and I cuddled the pillow closer to my chest as I tried to think it was something else.

Someone else.

Tears had stained the pillowcase multiple times and no matter how many times it was washed, the tears remained. The soft, quiet sobs that I tried to keep to myself, hoping I wouldn’t wake the others. But I knew that no matter how quiet I was, there was always one person there to help dry the tears.

The first few nights were the roughest, crying out his name in my dreams. Nightmares. I couldn’t sleep because I would always see his face, his ghost haunting me. I refused to leave the room because I didn’t want to see anyone. Nat had tried bringing me something to eat a couple of times but when she came back hours later to the untouched plate still in the same spot outside the door, she gave up.

We were all grieving, I knew that, but they didn’t know that I was grieving something extra. No one understood the pain I had gone through.

No one.

I knew that they were all busy looking for Thanos to undo the snap but they were all idiots. We barely made it out alive and now they want to go after him again? With less numbers? Half of the world had vanished in the snap, it was a ghost town out there.

Again, idiots.

Rolling over to the other side of the bed, my broken eyes glanced up to the adjacent bathroom in the room. The body stood in front of the mirror, contemplation clear on his face. He looked from the mirror to the object in his hand. His muscles tensed underneath his tank top as he leaned closer to the mirror, making his decision.

Once finished, he looked towards my reflection in the mirror. His sad eyes raked over my body, a sigh leaving his lips. He knew that trying to get me out of bed to eat something or even take a shower was a pointless argument. I only did things on my terms, when I wanted.

But with the broken state of myself in front of him, he knew that he couldn’t allow me to continue on like this.

The shower had turned on with a start causing my body to jump at the noise.

Silence was still tangled between us as he gently pulled me to my feet. I tried to fight against him but after weeks of fighting, I was tired.

“Steve,” I muttered.

“Don’t!” He demanded.

Without another word, he placed his hands on my shoulders and led me towards the bathroom. He motioned towards the shower with a quick nod.

“I’ll give you five minutes. When you’re finished, we’re going to the common room to eat something.”

Once alone, I reluctantly stripped out of my clothes, letting the warm water cascade down over my body. The warm water had instantly relaxed the ache in my muscles and I silently cursed myself for not trying this earlier.

Steve was the one who had helped me through the hell the last few weeks had become. I tried to sleep alone the first few nights but after the third night of screams for Bucky, Steve had brought me to his room. He refused to let me deal with this loss alone.

We were never intimate. We did share a bed but that was it. He wouldn’t allow whatever lingering feelings he had left for me get in the way of me trying to heal.

If it wasn’t for Steve, I would have put a bullet in my brain 21 days ago; the night Bucky disappeared.

“Y/N?”

I quickly wrapped a towel around myself and shut off the water, letting Steve know that he was good to come inside.

“Natasha bought you some more clothes,” Steve mentioned while setting another bag of clothes next to the other six bags.

The only clothes I had chosen to wear were Bucky’s shirts, hoping that the scent would be enough to make me think he was actually here.

It didn’t.

I nodded to Steve while sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes immediately connecting to the picture frame on the end table.

Bucky and I in Romania, all those years ago. My fingers played with the necklace he had bought for my birthday. I never took it off.

“I’ll let you get dressed.”

Steve went to walk away but stopped when I reached for his hand.

“You can stay. I’ll get dressed in the bathroom,” I stated.

He nodded and I could feel his eyes on my back as I hesitantly grabbed some clothes from the bags that Natasha had bought.

Once I had completely dressed, I mentioned to Steve that he could uncover his eyes. He had walked into the bathroom, leaning against the door frame to watch me.

I stood in front of the mirror, grimacing at my broken state. The circles under my eyes had darken and my hair was starting to dry in a knotted mess. Running a brush through it, I peaked at Steve through the mirror.

“Thank you.”

All he did was nod in response.

“Are you hungry?” He questioned.

I shook my head. “I don’t want to see anyone.”

“They’re worried about you, Y/N.” Steve said. “They haven’t seen you since we came back to the compound.”

“I know, Steve.” I sighed, turning myself to face him.

I leaned against the sink and crossed my arms over my chest. “I can’t look any of them in the eye. I understand that they’ve also lost people they loved but knowing what I lost.”

My words trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Steve knew, however, and pulled me into his embrace. “You don’t have to tell them.”

“It’s not fair, Steve.” I looked into his eyes, the bare skin of his face smelling like fresh aftershave. “The only piece I had left of Bucky disappeared along with him.”

He gently placed a hand over my stomach, ghosting over the place where mine and Bucky’s unborn baby used to grow. His lips parted to speak but closed when the tower began to shake, almost as if an earthquake was happening.

Before I could argue, Steve was pulling me along with him towards the main common hall of the Avengers Compound.

I watched as Tony lay in one of the hospital beds in the med bay of the compound, Pepper stuck to his side like glue.

He had been floating in space for the last twenty three days but was saved by a new friend, Carol Danvers.

Or Captain Marvel as she called herself.

Tony said that he had fought Thanos on his home planet, ultimately losing in the end, just like we had.

“This is stupid,” I muttered to the remaining members of our team. “We went after him with double the army and we still lost!”

Steve sighed. “We have to try, Y/N.”

“To what, kill him?” I scoffed. “We tried that!”

“You didn’t have me last time.”

My eyes snapped over towards the new blood of the room.

“Do you even know where he is?” I asked Carol.

“I know some people who might,” she stated.

“Don’t bother, I know exactly where he is.”

The other new blood, a robot named Nebula, spoke this time. From the brief introductions, I gathered that she was the daughter of Thanos. If it wasn’t for Steve stopping me, she would have been burnt to ash the second those words came from her.

“So he’s retired to a planet?” Rhodey asked.

“He used the stones again,” Nat said, astonished.

I couldn’t believe that we were even discussing this and I couldn’t believe that I had ultimately agreed to it. Even if there was a slight chance that I would be able to bring Bucky back, along with everyone else that had vanished, I owed it to him to at least try. He wouldn’t want me to sit on my ass anymore; I needed to fight.

“Let’s go get this son of a bitch,” I cursed while leaving them all behind.

#james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #reader insert #bucky barnes and reader #steve rogers #captain america #soldat #dorogaya #the winter soldier

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 3 years

Text

Sun and Fun (S2, E12)

I can’t believe FOX has cancelled this absolute masterpiece of a show. I’m devastated. I’d like to think we’ll get picked up by another network for season 3 but I’m a pessimist and I don’t want to get my hopes up. I’ll be hanging around the fandom either way though.

My time-stamped thoughts for this episode are below. As always I reference Malcolm’s mental health. A lot. So if that’s going to be a trigger for you, don’t keep reading.

SPOILERS AHEAD:

0:20 - Malcolm losing it in Martin’s cell? *chef’s kiss*. 1) excellent performance by Tom. 2) This is the Malcolm mental health content I subscribed for. This is Malcolm feeling overwhelmed, helpless, worthless, and frustrated all at the same time. This. Is. Wonderful. And. Realistic. This is what overwhelming anxiety (especially if you have an anxiety disorder) can feel like. It builds and builds until all of a sudden you’re consumed with all this nervous energy and frustration and it all turns to rage in an instant. But you’re not angry at other people. You don’t want to hurt anyone. That rage is just self hatred because you hate that you feel this broken and your stupid brain won’t function normally.

0:33 - annnnd then when the excess nervous energy is spent but that feeling of self-hatred, despair, and fear still remains - you’re physically exhausted and 7/10. times you cry. Again, crying because of how stupid you feel for your little rage outburst, for how stupid you feel for feeling this terrible all the time. Malcolm is depicting a severe anxiety episode perfectly (in my experience) and THIS is why FOX is moronic for cancelling the show. The gorgeous and accurate depictions of mental health in Prodigal Son is unprecedented, truthful, and heartbreaking. It’s like nothing else on television.

0:50 - This kind of hurts. Look at how cautiously Dani enters the room. Almost as if Malcolm is a wild animal she doesn’t want to scare. It makes sense given the state of the room she just entered and how completely openly and uncharacteristically vulnerable Malcolm is. I will say this though, despite how cautious she is, it’s obvious that she cares about Malcolm more than whatever happened before she walked into the room.

1:03 - “So all eyes are on his head case son right?” This line is a direct quote from Malcolm’s anxiety disorder and depression. This is how you feel about yourself when in the middle of an anxiety episode when you’re also depressed. BUT OUR GIRL DANI!!! <3 This girl looks confused and concerned to hear Malcolm diss himself like that. The fact that she tries to comfort him when he’s in this state, makes her an absolutely A++ friend.

1:11 - “No one cares about that.” “I CARE. I can’t live like this.” This scene resonates with me so so so much. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been 100% aware of how irrational my anxieties are and simultaneously 100% unable to do a damn thing about it because I’m too scared of who I’d be without the fear. Because I’ve defined myself by my anxieties for so long that it’s become the only definable element of my personality visible to me. I’m getting that vibe from Malcolm. I’m sure that’s exactly how he’s feeling right now.

1:30 - “That’s not what scares you. What scares you is living the rest of your life without your father in it.” Dani knows and I felt personally called out. THIS EMOTIONAL WHUMP IS GIVING ME LIFE. <3

1:39 - Look at our floppy haired, devastated boy. :( <3 I’m genuinely shook that he didn’t have a full mental breakdown this episode (but it’s coming....it’s inevitable at this point :) ). ALSO the look of absolute love and concern Dani is shooting towards Malcolm? Absolutely perfect. <3

1:51 - I genuinely find it so interesting that Malcolm keeps referring to “The Surgeon” as “Martin”. If you read my thoughts on 2x11 you know I think it’s because Malcolm has separated ‘Martin Whitly’ into three separate people in his head. “The Surgeon” = the serial killer who traumatized him and ruined his childhood. “Dad/Father” = the man who loved and cared for baby!Malcolm. But “Martin” = unknown. Malcolm doesn’t know who Martin is yet and it scares him.

1:58 - “For once in your life slow down and acknowledge what this is doing to you.” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love this line. So. So. SO. MUCH. <3 <3 This is the kind of comfort Malcolm needs. SOMEONE needs to tell him that he’s breaking, it’s not his fault, and he doesn’t deserve to suffer for Martin.

2:07 - annnnnnd Malcolm has gone full crazy-person string murder board. He’s right but he’s still acting like a manic crazy person. Like, a real one. Not his usual manic behaviour. This is straight up - this boy needs medication, a nap, therapy, and a doctor. Now.

2:34 - Ugh. This whole cop/Vivian scene made my skin crawl. So gross. So creepy. I hate Capshaw. So much. This woman is manipulative, evil, and so so creepy. The cop was also gross. But I 100% thought she was going to kill the cop because this felt like an opening scene to Criminal Minds.

4:38 - “THEY WERE HAVING SEX.” hhahahahahahaha holy shit. This is both hilarious and really upsetting (not just because Martin/Capshaw is NASTY). Malcolm is manically, yelling about his theories in a room full of people who love him. He sounds crazy. He’s acting crazy and Dani, JT, and Gil are just staring at him with a mixture of disbelief, concern, and sympathy. <3 It’s heartbreaking. Malcolm is an inch away from a mental breakdown. I’m here for it.

4:49 - “TMI bro.” <3

5:05 - Ugh. This breaks my heart. The team doesn’t think Malcolm is crazy. They just know he’s at the end of his rope. The looks they’re exchanging aren’t based in anger, contempt, or a lack of trust. They’re based in concern and I LOVE IT.

5:21 - LOOK AT OUR BABY. He’s breaking. He’s so close. :( Look at how desperate he is to find Martin.

5:35 - “That’s exactly what it means.” “Gil, please. You know how much I need this.” THIS HURTS. Gil isn’t angry here - he’s frustrated and scared for Malcolm. And Malcolm? This boy is toeing the line of a full breakdown in front of 3 of his favourite people - that’s out of character for him. Despite the shaking hand and general mania - Malcolm usually refrains from raising his voice in front of Dani and JT. He tries to stay calm-ish so he doesn’t get labelled as ‘violent’ like his serial killer father.

5:39 - “StOp. I am scared.” Dani knew exactly how to diffuse the situation. Malcolm can be manipulative and dysfunctional but he never wants to scare people (at least, not unless they’re suspects or obstructing justice).

5:46 - “I’m not ordering you this time. I’m begging you.” Papa!Gil’s seen Malcolm like this before. SO WHY IS NO ONE HUGGING MALCOLM?!?! The boy is clearly coming apart at the seams.

5:48 - Malcolm’s reaction to Gil sending him home is gorgeous. He looks sad, betrayed, and resigned. It’s as though he’s convinced himself that the team doesn’t trust him or care about him anymore. He doesn’t walk out angry. He walks out sad and determined. Head held high but eyes full of grief.

5:54 - I’d give anything to have heard the conversation between Dani, JT, and Gil after Malcolm left the room. ANYTHING.

6:02 - “He thinks I’m a liability.” No. Not exactly. He thinks Malcolm is in the throws of a mental health crisis and that he shouldn’t be responsible for catching his serial killer father. Again.

6:15 - “I support Gil’s decision. That does not mean I want your father dead.” #coparenting but also, true. I honestly don’t think Jessica wants Martin dead. I think she wants Ainsley and Malcolm to be happy and free from Martin but not dead. She knows that Malcolm might never recover from Martin’s death with all of his unanswered questions and suppressed childhood trauma. She also knows that Ainsley would always resent being prevented from bonding with her father. I think Jessica still loves Martin - well, the man she thought she married. Jessica doesn’t care for Martin Whitly. But she loves the man he pretended to be and even though she knows he wasn’t real - she doesn’t want him to die. I think she wants him to disappear (maybe get transferred to a prison in a different state?) but she doesn’t want him dead. That would make her no better than the serial killer (in Jessica’s mind anyways).

6:25 - “You have become consumed by this Malcolm.” Check out the side eyed look Ainsley gives Malcolm. She’s jealous. Her brother is on the verge of a mental breakdown but she’s jealous of the attention he’s getting from Jessica. I get it - Jessica hasn’t been the best mom to Ainsley. BUT GIRL, gain some perspective. Don’t you care about your brother?!?! That should trump the jealousy for a few minutes at least.

6:35 - “I love you.” <3 <3 <3 I’m going to cry. This might be my favourite Jessica+Malcolm moment to date. So precious.

6:43 - THIS. “I love you. Both of you. More than I hate him.” This is why Jessica doesn’t want Martin dead.....but she also doesn’t care if he lives. I know that sounds like a contradiction but it’s a real thing and if you’ve never felt that way about someone - I pray you never have to.

7:06 - “Then she’s a victim.” .....I disagree. Capshaw had a (weird and manipulative) consensual relationship with Martin. She has as much of an agenda as Martin (although, Jessica didn’t know that here). Capshaw isn’t a victim. She’s not being compliant with Martin as a form of self-preservation or fear. She’s doing it because she’s a manipulative crazy person who is in love with a convicted serial killer.

7:45 - I’ve never felt this unsettled while watching Prodigal Son. Capshaw showing her true colours is so so so disturbing. This woman is insane (with all the stigma). The dress. The martini (Jessica’s favourite drink?). The fact that she dressed Martin up in a suit. The music. The weirdly elegant wheelchair. The lovey way she’s talking. It all makes my skin crawl.

8:33 - OMG. What’s wrong with me? Why do I feel bad for Martin Whitly?!?!?!

9:55 - JESSICA AND MALCOLM doing a rich person ambush tag-team IS AMAZING. <3

9:57- How sad is this? 23 years and Jessica still can’t walk into a room without people whispering and judging her behind her back. :( This woman keeps her head held high - despite the pain she must be in - she’s a superhero. Change my mind.

10:30 - "Malcolm Whitly? You're.." I have this headcanon that the general public assumes Malcolm is dead. He changed his last name and fell off the grid. People treat Jessica like a social pariah so she wouldn't be able to tell them otherwise. And sure, Ainsley referred to Malcolm in the present tense during her Surgeon interview but how many people actually watched it actually paid attention to that little tidbit after Martin went full blown psychopath on camera? Plus, no one really cares about the Surgeon's son enough to look him up 23 years later. At least, no one who matters.

11:25 - Like mother, like son. You can't change my mind. They have the same manipulation style. It's justice based and determined. Ainsley and Martin's style? Vindictive and self-serving.

11:30 - Oh look. ANOTHER CONTINUITY ERROR. WHO PROOFREADS THESE SCRIPTS?!? I CAN’T KEEP OVERLOOKING THESE. For God’s sake. Send copies of the script to fans who sign NDAs or something. At least we know what happened in previous episodes.

12:33 - "Gross." I'm with Ainsley on this one.

12:45 - "My assistant." "Long suffering". hahahha omg. I love this for two reasons: 1) it's hilarious 2) it's true. Malcolm literally disposed of a body for Ainsley. He's her assistant and he's suffered for it.

13:05 - Yo. This dude is whack. Like this is some serious Stockholm's syndrome going on here. Vivian is his hero?!? .........I can't.

13:55 - Why do the gifts Vivian sends Zeiger look like human bones? Damn this is twisted. This is like some sort of twisted serial killer pseudo-trophy situation?

14:52 - "I don't think Vivian is the victim here. I think our father is." Yikes. This is not going to help Malcolm's mental stability. At all. He's been trying to fully accept that his father is a serial killing monster who was literally never capable of loving him for the past 23 years. BUT NOW our boy has taken the role of 'good son' (prodigal son is you will) and has returned to his 10 year old mentality "I love dad. Dad loves me." and 'dad' is in trouble. Malcolm is trying to save his serial killer father and the emotional and mental hoops he's jumping through are terrifying, complex, and hauntingly realistic. <3 It's gorgeous.

15:04 - "I'm not used to this type of confinement." I love this line because of how deeply it rings true. Martin isn't used to confinement. Sure, he's been chained to a wall for 23 years but he's been relatively happy about it. He's been able to manipulate Malcolm and the other inmates. He's been given TV time, phone time, consultations, books, music, free food, and a massive private cell (seriously that cell is as big as the bachelor's suite I rent for $900 CAD a month). The man has been living a life of luxury (given his crimes). His only 'punishment'? He's stuck inside his cell and he's not allowed to kill anymore. THIS is Martin truly suffering. I kind of feel bad for him (which I never thought I'd say).

15:20 - Damn. Michael Sheen is incredible. He's genuinely making me feel concerned and scared for Martin.

15:32 - Something tells me a man hurt Capshaw in some way throughout her life. This has to be deeper than the whole "I didn't fit into the 'boys club' of surgery". Her issues with men are aggressive and alarming. This woman is nuts. This woman is why I hesitate to call myself a feminist (I generally think we should drop the titles of feminist/misogynist/racist/homophobe... and just treat people with respect. I think the titles and groups just further divide people.)

15:50 - "You're finally free." Yep. Capshaw is a nutcase. She actually believes that she's committed a perfect crime.

16:09 - This place has virtually no furniture but I’m expected to believe someone is paying the phone bill?!?! Nah.

17:08 - That. Smile. This woman is a devil. Like, I think I hate her as much as I hate Umbridge. But unlike Umbridge, Capshaw is downright terrifying.

17:12 - Was anyone else kind of surprised that Martin called Jessica? I mean, I guess she was a safer choice than the cops but still...

17:20 - As creepy and this whole ‘Martin is a victim’ thing is - it’s kind of nice? Like - I just keep thinking “How does it feel Martin?!?! This is how you made your victims feel. Do you like it?” and then I realize I’m a terrible person.

17:55 - Ainsley’s in on this. I swear, she’s somehow involved with either Capshaw or Martin.

18:18 - Oh look. Martin is shackled to the bed. Just like Malcolm shackles himself to bed so he can sleep every night. .....I keep oscillating between being vindictive toward Martin and feeling bad for him. That’s what makes this show incredible. The ‘villain’ is human and 3 dimensional.

18:44 - Oh God. The psychopath is jealous. This woman is UNSTABLE. How has no one locked her up yet?!?

19:43 - She’s crying. She’s actually crying. Even the rewatch of this scene is painful. I just feel so uncomfortable (which was probably the intent) and I hate both characters. They’re both actively trying to manipulate each other and it’s so creepy. Damn.

20:15 - Holy. Shit. This woman is by far the scariest villain Prodigal Son has given us.

21:17 - ..............I have nothing to say. My brain has short circuited. I can’t get past how horrifying this scene is. She’s a maniac.

21:57 - No one will make eye contact with Malcolm. :( They all think he’s losing it but they’re not scared of him. They’re scared for him.

22:10 - “A trusted member of my team has a theory I run it down.” THANK YOU GIL. SUBTLY TELL MALCOLM THAT YOU TRUST HIM. That’s what he needed to hear. He was doubting that anyone cared. :(

22:45 - “Do you HeAr yourself?!?” Ouch. Gil’s right - Malcolm sounds nuts. Unfortunately, Malcolm’s also right (more or less). Look at how sad Malcolm is - he honestly looks like he’s on the verge of a panic attack. :( Malcolm thinks Gil doesn’t trust him anymore. Malcolm thinks Gil thinks he’s crazy. It’s heartbreaking. SOMEONE HUG THIS LITTLE CINNAMON ROLL.

22:54 - JT, buddy. Not the time. You’re making this worse. :( Malcolm is two breaths away from crying.

23:40 - “Dani, you up for this? Cause he sure isn’t.” Gil is losing it. Look at him. Gil is watching the boy he considers as his son unravel and Gil can’t do anything about it.

23:45 - “Either way, he’s going there. I’ll keep an eye on him.” I love Dani for this. Brightwell or not - the fact that she’s willing to chase smoke in an attempt to keep Malcolm from having a full mental breakdown makes her a hero.

23:48 - JT, hug Gil! He needs a hug!

24:16 - Martin is screaming while shackled to a bed.....where have I seen this before?

25:39 - “I did this for you because you needed it.”....”Dani, I respect you.” Excuse me while I go sob in the corner. Malcolm just uttered the words “I respect you.” and my heart exploded.

26:11 - “You don’t care. None of you care if my father lives or dies.” No, Malcolm, you’re wrong. They care. They all care so so much. Not about the life of the Martin Whitly though. They care about how Martin Whitly will continue to torment you if he’s caught alive. They care about how badly you’ll grieve if he ends up dying. They care about how this will affect YOU. because they love you.

26:22 - “You would be free.” SAY IT LOUDER DANI! He’d be in enormous pain for a while, but Malcolm would heal.

26:56 - “Let him go, Malcolm.” <3 <3 Malcolm is listening to Dani. He’s opening up about his fears. This is good (for Malcolm’s mental health). I am happy.

27:04 - WOW BABY! That kiss was......passionate? I mean, we all knew they were going to kiss (thanks previews) but I honestly didn’t expect a kiss this long or passionate? They’ve both been clearly denying their feelings for each other for a while though so I guess it makes sense?

27:20 - We all know Dani was going to talk about how they could make a relationship work for them and/or how she loves Malcolm but thinks he should focus on his mental health before they start dating. BUT MALCOLM? That boy thinks he just ruined his friendship with Dani and I’m heartbroken. Look at his sad little face. :(

28:31 - sooooo when exactly did Malcolm’s phone call drop? I feel like Ainsley had more access to the conversation that just what she shares with Dani in a couple of minutes.

29:08 - Look at this sad, scared little boy. He genuinely thinks that saving Martin will earn Martin’s love. I’m heartbroken.

29:22 - THIS. Malcolm is so desperate for Martin’s love that he essentially consented to being kidnapped, tortured, and potentially murdered. :( This is bad.

30:06 - Malcolm took unknown drugs from a crazy person. UGH. The stress of loving this unstable man-child is going to kill me. I’m so worried for him. ALSO WHO THE HELL CHEWS PILLS?!?! That’s disgusting.

30:24 - Dani thinks Malcolm is being a typical guy - terrified of relationships/talking about his feelings. She’s hurt. The Brightwell ship has encountered another storm.

30:35 - Anyone else get major flashbacks to 1x11 when Gil shows up to the townhouse to tell Jessica that Malcolm’s been kidnapped? You know, when he walks past all the reporters?!

30:50 - Ugh. :( Poor Jessica. That call from Capshaw gave her quite the emotional dilemma. As she said earlier, she loves her children more than she hates Martin. Soooo does she tell someone about the call, save Martin, and let Martin continue to torment her children? Or does she let Capshaw kill Martin, compromise her morals, let her children grieve for a while - but ultimately heal? It’s an impossible choice.

31:13 - “I know why you’re anxious Jess.” UGH. Get yourself a man you looks at you the way Gil look at Jessica. So much love. So much concern. If Gil wasn’t fictional and I wasn’t asexual (and 24) I would marry that man.

31:23 - “He has become convinced that his father is a victim in all of this.” Gil is so upset. He’s angry - at Martin for having this much power over Malcolm so many years later. He’s angry that Malcolm is still suffering so much because of his father. He’s upset because Martin is still hurting the people Gil loves 23 years after he was initially arrested.

31:33 - “There’s no good outcome here Jess.” Thank you. Gil is a man with awareness into Malcolm’s psyche. He knows this is going to hurt Malcolm no matter what happens. He’s scared and he’s bracing himself for impact. I love him. I want more people in the world who love people this deeply.

31:50 - “It’s okay to hope for that you know.” THANK YOU GIL. THANK YOU. Someone needed to tell Jessica that she’s not a monster for wanting the reason her children continue to suffer to disappear (even if tha means he dies). It’s not a malicious, evil thought toward Martin. It’s a hope for her children’s wellbeing.

32:04 - “And in my weaker moments, I want him dead too.” <3 I’m imagining Gil praying that Martin is killed by an inmate after he comforts a teenage Malcolm from a nightmare. I’m imagining Gil praying Riker’s finally kills Martin as he watched Malcolm spiral into Martin’s grasp again last year. I’m imagining Gil crying himself to sleep because he’s so damn tired of watching Jessica and Malcolm suffer because of Martin. I love him for it. <3

32:15 - “Maybe things could be different.” .....I’m sorry. Does this mean Gillica is off again?! The flirting and dancing from 2x9 meant nothing?!? It was a hoax?!? I’m furious.

32:35 - “It’s the actions that matter.” Damn. Gil is too good for the nonsense that is the Whitly family. Doesn’t he know that life isn’t always that simple?

32:46 - Annnnnd now Jessica will convince herself that she’s a bad person because she didn’t tell anyone about Capshaw’s call. She will also convince herself that she’s not good enought for Gil. AND I will cry myself to sleep.

32:55 - That hug <3 Sooooo Gillica is still on? I’m hella confused.

33:05 - There it is. Dani is still upset with Malcolm. The Brightwell ship is taking in water my dudes.

33:52 - Wow. He looks pretty in that makeshift hospital bed. Sleeves rolled up. Shirt half unbuttoned. Glazed, disoriented look about him as he wakes from a drugged sleep. <3 I’m in heaven.

34:30 - This is why Malcolm can never let Martin go. There are moments when Martin absolutely convinces Malcolm that he loves him.

34:50 - “Because he also happens to be my father.” THIS. IS. THE. MOST. REALISTIC. PORTRAYAL. OF. ABUSIVE. DADDY. ISSUES. Take from someone who lived through an abusive Dad. You hate him. You know he’s messed up. You don’t like or respect him. But a part of you will always love him. Even though you hate that part of yourself.

35:12 - “I want all of you.” .....I’m terrified. This woman is crazy. Crazier than the Surgeon. Is that possible?

36:05 - “You want him to love you. But he can’t.” Have you said that to yourself Malcolm? You know that logically but you don’t feel that in your heart. ....and the writers don’t know that because we’ve seen that Martin loves Malcolm? Sort of? Unless the writers are playing some sort of weird long con on us.

36:50 - This is whump content I signed up for. This crazy bitch just killed Malcolm. We saw the terror in his eyes. BUT HE LIVES. So. I’m. Here. For. It.

36:58 - Martin’s devotion to Malcolm is so so interesting to me. Martin is a psychopath - he’s not supposed to be capable of love. But he clearly loves Malcolm. How? Why? It makes no sense but I love it?

37:47 - Malcolm’s little wheeze when Vivian starts mitigating the embolism. <3 So cute.

37:53 - “I can do without the mansplaining.” I’m getting PTSD. There are too many real women who are this crazy about feminism and mansplaining (this is coming from a woman). Martin isn’t trying to ‘mansplain’ he’s scared and he’s trying to save his son. That’s not mansplaining. He’s not explaining something because he thinks Vivian doesn’t know it. He’s explaining something in a desperate attempt to remind her of the severity of the situation.

38:16 - HOW THE HELL did Ainsley and Dani know where Martin, Capshaw, and Malcolm were? Either 1) Ainsley is somehow working with Capshaw, or 2) they were able to trace Malcolm’s cell (assuming Capshaw didn’t trash it), or 3) Ainsley knew her mom was lying about that phone call and they had it traced?, or 4) this is a convenient plot thing.

38:34 - This bitch is devious and I hate her.

39:30 - Martin Whitly is the hero of the episode. What alternate reality are we living in?

41:15 - Malcolm struggling for breath. <3 The whumpers are being FED.

41:17 - “Run.” This is 23 years of guilt for turning his own father into the police surfacing.

41:31 - “Where’s my family?” I honestly don’t know how I feel about this line. It bothers me but I can’t figure out why.

41:43 - This ending sequence is a work of ART. Malcolm is in physical and emotional pain. Dani (without backup) trying to save Malcolm from Martin. The epic music. The shot of Dani seeing the blood-filled syringe next to the makeshift hospital bed+restraints. Martin Whitly. Driving. A. Boat. And. Laughing - completely elated - with Malcolm passed out (and looking adorable) in the aft seating. The fact that the ONLY house you can see on the shoreline is the house the just escaped from.

THIS EPISODE WAS EXCITING, STRESSFUL, AND WONDERFUL. I’m excited for the SEASON finale and I pray we get a season 3 from a network other than FOX.

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katelynnwrites · 3 years

Text

pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

warnings: canonical type violence, drugs, needles, blood and injuries

word count: 1027

summary: Poe finds out that the truth isn’t what he thought it was when Leia reveals a highly classified mission to him.

A/N: set before The Force Awakens. part one can be found here :)

Febuwhump Prompt: ‘Torture’ (Day 21)

Poe made his way to the briefing room. The General had sent for him and he had no idea why. The last time she had sent for him privately, things hadn’t ended well.

After you had taken the shuttle and left him to pick up the broken pieces of his heart, he had buried himself in work for the Resistance. Taking mission after mission, so that when he finally fell asleep, he would be too exhausted to think of you.

It had been two months now and no one had seen or heard from you. Two months of pitying looks from other members. Two months of trying to forget you. Two months of unending agony.

‘Commander Dameron.’ Leia greeted him when he entered the room. She motioned for him to take a seat while she whispered to the rebel next to her. He left soon after and she had a grim expression on her face as she sat in the chair opposite him.

‘Poe. Before I say anything else, you must promise me that none of this conversation leaves this room.’ Her tone was unnaturally serious and Poe nodded his agreement. Whatever Leia had to say sounded important.

Leia gave him a long look, taking note of his disheveled appearance and the dark circles under his eyes. Repressing a sigh, she spoke, ‘This is a highly classified mission that only I and a few others in Resistance command know about. It concerns Lieutenant Y/n L/n’

Poe froze when he heard your name.

‘No. I won’t be the one to bring her in. I can’t. General, I-’ Leia cut him off, ‘It’s a rescue mission.’

Poe looked at her speechless. Had she forgotten how you had betrayed the entire Resistance?

Sensing his unspoken question, she said ‘She didn’t betray us. Poe, she was undercover.’

He didn’t move. Undercover? He had so many questions but the only one he wanted the answer to was if you still loved him. Because if you did why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let him believe a lie for so long?

‘She wanted to tell you but I persuaded her not to.’ Leia explains, seeing the conflict on his face.

‘You told her not to? You let me believe a lie for two months!’ Poe’s voice rose, staring at his General incredulously.

‘I admit that was an oversight on my part. You can be angry at me all you want but what matters now is Lieutenant L/n.’ Leia’s tone left no room for argument and Poe resignedly sat back down.

‘Y/n’s mission was to infiltrate the First Order and obtain as much intel as possible about their numbers, troop positions and their funding. Last week we lost contact with her. I had hoped for the best but we have from a reliable source that her cover was blown. She’s currently being held aboard General Hux’s ship.’ Leia paused, letting Poe take in what she had just said.

Icy fear washed over him at the mention of your capture.

‘They’re hurting her aren’t they?’ His voice is tense, his fists clenching at his side.

Leia’s silence was all he needed.

‘Take Black Squadron with you. That’s an order Poe!’ Leia’s voice rang after him as he ran down the corridor.

******

It took less than an hour to get all of Black Squadron together and briefed on the mission. Needless to say, they were all in.

Jessika who was especially close with you was ready to take a page out of Poe’s book and ‘jump in an X-wing and blow something up’.

******

‘Snap you’re with me, the rest of you cover us! We won’t be long.’

Poe sends his X-wing into a nosedive, causing BB 8 to let out a shrill beep.

‘It’s okay buddy hang on.’ He reassures the BB unit.

The moment he lands in the hangar of the Finalizer, he’s out of his ship, Snap quickly following behind him. Any stormtroopers that are unfortunate enough to meet the two are quickly ended.

Poe leaves Snap on guard at the end of the detention level corridor and heads straight for the only cell that’s occupied.

The door hisses open and you weakly look up. The drugs they had given you made you dizzy and your vision swam as the dark silhouette approached.

Squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared yourself for the pain you were sure to come.

Instead, you heard Poe’s familiar voice and choked back a sob.

‘You’re not real! It’s just another hallucination from one of the drugs you’ve given me.’ You cried out. It was cruel the way they kept making you see the only person you wanted to see.

‘Y/n it’s me baby. It’s really me, I promise.’ Poe says, brushing your loose hairs back.

‘Please just leave me alone.’ You whisper hoarsely, inching away from him.

Poe inhales sharply as he takes you in. There was a bruise blossoming on your cheek, blood dripping from the corner of your mouth. Your dilated pupils indicated that you were drugged and your skin was far too pale for his liking. You were trembling, something he had never seen you do before. Whatever the First Order had done to you had reduced you to a shell of yourself.

‘Y/n it’s me. I promise. Remember the day you told me you loved me? It was because you didn’t want me to leave for a mission. You practically screamed it across the hangar.’ He wills you to believe him and you do, your trembling increasing as you sob.

‘Poe. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.’ You repeat the same words over and over again as he releases you from your restraints. His heart cracks, hearing your words and he swallows hard, swearing to make the First Order pay for what they had done to you.

You collapse against him, far too weak to walk and he catches you quickly.

‘It’s okay love. I’m here now. It’s okay.’ He reassures you as he adjusts his hold on you.

Those are the last things you hear before you slip into unconsciousness, knowing that you were safe in Poe’s arms.

<- part one

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Febuwhump Tag List:

@febuwhump

#poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron #star wars #the sequel trilogy #bb 8 #black squadron #the resistance #the first order #leia organa #jessika pava #snap wexley #febuwhump day 21 #febuwhumpday21 #febuwhump2021 #whump prompt #whump #may be triggering #katelynnwrites

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summerofpinecestcontest · 3 years

Text

The Dream of a Normal Life

by @cornytyrannosaurus

The fresh breeze of the Norwest lands scurred between the mountains, between the hills, beneath the trees, until it reached the nostrils of a young man inside a van which was stationed atop a hillside.

He breathed deep, filling his tired lungs with the soft breeze and all the scents it brought from every corner of the undying forest. His always hurried mind took this moment of serenity to fuel itself back to be awake, he already processing within his blurred thoughts all the duties of the day.

Mile 82, 54. Mile 21, 12 up to date. We go downhill until…

Then he opened his eyes, and the list stopped. He saw her, gently snoring in her sleep, her hands improvising a pillow. He smiled, recalling how annoying she could get when her hands felt sore; but what to do about it? She looked just too adorable right now to be awoken just for the sake of a mere slumbering formality. Her neon-stained, raggedy hair fitted with her purple sleeveless shirt, the only piece of cloth she was wearing in her sleep. He rolled his eyes down to her nude legs, remembering with heated fondness how much he made her to feel loved last night. Maybe he should put the blanket over such gorgeous sight, he thought. Unfortunate, but necessary.

Heavily, he put the brown blanket over her underside, to stop at her slightly inflated belly. His eyebrows dropped, reminding the main why of her needing to feel loved last night. She was having one of those delicate hormonal moments, a thing he took years to get accustomed and now was proving itself really useful during these uncertain times.

Uncertain, never better though.

He gave a quick kiss on her forehead, rolled his body around in search of his clothes, and hurriedly put his pants on.

He opened the backdoors, sat at the edge of the white van they lived in now, and took a long look at the immediate surroundings.

The gigantic mountains came across his sight like an unfathomable Leviathan welcoming his life with its majestic shape. Around him and all across the hillside, countless trees of all shapes and sizes covered the outline of horizon like a fortress for their tiny kingdom of intimacy and solitude. What he could give for them to have a tiny home where to start a family at a place like this, he could not tell but was certain in it.

Then he heard the growls coming from the trees, and he recalled they were just passing by.

A couple of man-sized hoofed monstrosities ran wild from between the depths of the forest, galloping over the concrete and disappearing behind another line of old pine trees. Their countless mouths filled with human-like crooked teeth, placed all across their headless, dark furry bodies, screeched continuously as they waved their long rat-like black tails at the fresh airs of the of morning.

Aaaaaaw f*ck.

Tagging eldritch creatures in a national park wasn’t precisely his dream job, but was quite within the spectrum of skills of the Mystery Twins, and as these non-euclidean beasts began to reproduce, they found themselves at a chance of getting a good source of income at the aftermath of events he didn’t want to remember right now.

If only his mind could listen to him to stop rerunning the horrible memory of that day.

Before sorrow had the chance to overtake his heart, he felt the warm of a pair of arms circling his tummy, a pair of legs caressing his, and a slightly inflated belly gently pressing his back. He smiled in relief; he hadn’t figured yet how she was able to slip across surfaces.

“Good morning, Dipdop” she murmured in his ear with seductive tone.

“’Morning, Mabes” he said back, turning his head to kiss her cheek, and then her lips, to go back to look at the hill.

“Why are yah awake so early? I wanted to spoon yah” She asked, squishing his belly with her arms”

“Dunno, just… wanted to start earlier today” He said with slow content.

“Before breakfast? You gotta be kiddin’ me” she said with pretended anger.

“You’ll never let me to skip it, will you?” He mustered with a grin.

“Nope, I won’t” She asserted. “Besides…” she said, as she squished her legs around his.

“Besides?”

“I’m still just in my shirt” she whispered at his ear. His grin grew bigger, as his sister slipped back from where she came and he rolled around to follow her.

“But what about the breakfast?” He asked with fake indignation.

“First this breakfast, then food breakfast”

“Mhmm, I like the plan…” He said as he closed the van’s door behind him.

It wasn’t the most conventional form of Love, nor the beginning of a normal life. But it was theirs to live , and they loved it anyway.

At least there, away from the unsuspecting and prejudiced eyes of the world, they were free.

If only the world could know the pain it could cause.

- Six months ago…

Mabel Pines had endured many terrifying moments in her life. When Dipper broke his leg at their kickboxing practice, when she was at the hands of a gigantic childish mechanoid, when her brother was about to be devoured by a living corpse, when she was about to be erased from existence by a extradimensional pyramid god, when she got lost in that trip to the unknown… but these immediate moments were heaving in her stomach more than any of that. Maybe it was because those moments were a little far in her memory, or because her resistance to cringe was absolutely superior to her brother’s. Or maybe it was because this time, the impending threat came from within her very own family.

And now she was frozen in place inside the van, watching how Dipper stood over the grass of the family home, his forehead bleeding and his face turning to their parents, his shape contrasted between the darkness of the night and the porch’s lamp.

Maybe they weren’t as angry and freaked out as they were an hour ago, but their resolution wasn’t something they were willing to accept. Right now, Mason “Dipper” Pines was standing against the destruction of his incoming family.

“Dipper, please… be reasonable. There is no way out of this” His father reassured, trying to appeal to his intellect, trying to undo the damage of the wound he had done to his own son. But Dipper had already cried, so the wound would stay a long time.

“No” Dipper pronounced in crackly voice.

His mother approached to him a couple of steps more, heartbroken for the glance of their own children at them. “Dipper, you’re not in your right mind, you don’t-”

“No, Mom!” Dipper yelled high. “We-we tried, we really really tried. But it didn’t matter how much we tried, how much we were honest with you. You didn’t listen, and you are still not listening. You look at us like if we were just a couple of f*cking monsters!”

“Dipper… You won’t be able to live a normal life with Mabel” His father told with serious tune. Again, they weren’t listening; again, they were mistaking their love for another crooked urge they needed to repress to have fulfilling lives. If only they knew.

“Well.. maybe we don’t want one!” Dipper finally shouted, turning around to walk aimlessly to his van.

Their parents only watched impotent how their beloved children drove away from home, and away from their lives…

“Mhm… so… I’ll want a French-Fry-Fantasy and a Slurpy Surprise” the young woman finally chose her meal options from between the short menu in the grease-stained paper sheet. It was kind of her personal politics about road restaurants to “choose the weirdest dishes in the menu or don’t say yourself worthy of a road trip”. The waitress with curly black hair and more freckles than space in the face to have them, could read for her bun hairstyle, her capri pants and her lots of laces and bracelets on her arms, that she was the extroverted and adventurous of them.

“I’ll want a pancake plate and a coffee, thanks” the man said instead. Judging by the old flannel coat and his black pants, he was the quiet one. The young waitress tried not to smile too much at the enormous contrast between their breakfast options, pondering in her mind how so alike persons could have such starkly different personalities. Anyhow, they made such a lovely couple, one of those who brighten the day of a service worker doomed to attend uncourteous people the rest of the day just like she was.

“Oh right, so a coffee cup, a Slurpy Surprise, a pancake plate and a French-Fry-Fantasy” The waitress repeated as the couple at the table nodded in agreement. “Ok, your order will be done in 10; anything else?”

“Nope, that’s all; thanks” he answered with kind tone.

“Okie dokie” The waitress said. “Oh! And congrats for your baby!” The waitress said before to leave.

“Owww thank you so much!” she said in joyful tune, making the waitress to enlarge her smile as she left to attend the order.

The young woman turned her attention back to her brother, moving over her seat with impatient joy. It was one of those days where the world seemed that friendly at them; after an inconceivable quantity of bad days in between, both had learned to appreciate them.

“Gosh I’m so hungry!” she exclaimed, enthusiastic at the edge of childishness.

“Yeaaah I kinda doubt ten minutes will be enough for your order” he asserted, resting his elbows on the table, looking out the window for a moment.

“Ooh, hush you there, bro-man! Have a little of faith in these peoples; they’re experts!” she dismissed.

“Experts in road restaurant dishes?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yep, I’m sure they attend to a special college for restaurant workers and stuff” she said with erudite-like pride.

“I did!” the old cook behind the bar yelled at their table with a stoic smile, raising his spatula. Maybe they were talking too high for a public place, but as they were currently the only customers it did not seem like it mattered at first. He usually would beg for her to slow down a little, due to the obvious need for them to conceal their true identities, but given the events of last night, he was simply happy to see her so free and being herself.

“You see? Road restaurant experts” She finally asserted as she raised her arms in a gesture of obviousness.

“Ok, I’ll eat my words along my pancakes” Dipper commented with an ironical smile.

“Yes you will, you will” She asserted, bopping his nose with the tip of her finger. Suddenly, she got aware the sorrow behind her brother’s eyes, and she worried. “What’s up, Dip?”

He paused for a couple of seconds in which his always hurried mind deliberated. She didn’t like unnecessary dramas, but she also liked him to be honest, as they had committed themselves to be. So after that instant that felt eternal, he spoke.

“Dunno, kinda… I know you’ll just tell me it was some kind of hormone rush or whatever but… I really…”

“Hey, it’s ok, Dip” she interrupted him, taking his hands with hers over the table. “I guess I was just… scared about the call Mom and Dad made and…”. For a moment, she thought she could express better by enacting, so she leaned across the space between them to rob him a deep kiss, to just after returning to her seat. “I want this, Dipper. I want all of this” She said, her eyes getting moisty.

“We’re just that crazy, aren’t we?” he asked with a moved smile. She was that fantastic and brave he couldn’t contain his love for her.

“And I couldn’t be happier for it” She asserted. He raised his hand to caress her cheek. Maybe it was the magical pregnacy hormones he had heard about in documentaries, or the strange and unnamed dimensions of their mutual love reacting again for a full catharsis potential, but she looked especially beautiful this morning, and (as energetically as he showed how much he loved her earlier at the van) she deserved to feel it. “To heck with a normal life” she cited from him as both just stared each other until the dishes were ready.

- Six months ago…

Dipper was quiet, as he had been all the way the long long time of driving lasted until the gas ran out near San Francisco Bay. He hadn’t said a word, nor even tried to clean his face of the blood; anyone with no idea of what really happened could have thought he was just coming out from a horror scene.

The unnerving silence was the exact kind Mabel recognized perfectly; she knew exactly what he was thinking and why he was thinking it. The waves of fear and regret and self-hatred and so many other things too deep to have a name. She let him have his inner battle, because Dipper Pines was the man of resolutions; but at some point she got aware he was just self-loathing again. Self-loathing for loving his sister in unexpected and strange ways she also felt. Self-loathing for stripping her dreams away just because he said he wanted to be with her and promising they would fight together whatever it would take. Self-loathing about the fact he actually accomplished his promise and now faced the true, palpable consequences of not having a plan this time. If he only had a plan, if he only…

“Dipper!” Mabel yelled at him, and he raised the head to look at her. His wound had closed enough for his blood over his face to dry a little, but the scar was still cutting his birthmark at half.

“I…”

“No. Don’t you ever dare to say you’re sorry about this. And you know what? It’s because this is not your fault, Dipper!”

“Bu-“

“But nothing, Dipper! It was Dad the one who punched you, it was Mom the one who pushed me, it was them the ones who wanted to… to wanted to…”; Mabel couldn’t even pronounce the fact that her own parents wanted to kill their unborn grandchild. “This is the part where I get all serious and say to you: We did everything we could. It didn’t work, eh? Well, we just move on and keep going forward! Because we have each other, just like we always had!” Mabel said, half crying, half smiling. Dipper smiled as well, because he knew it was true. He had saved the universe (now more than once), living in it was the least of the problems if they were that powerful together. At least, as powerful as their love was.

“To heck with a normal life” He said with trembling lips as they approached each other and kissed fiercely. Young? For sure. Inexperienced? As every young adult. Willing to face the full grasp of all the risks, the current perils, and unexpected tangents of becoming a wandering couple of roadside adventurers? As few souls in the whole Creation were.

It had been a tiring day. Some unseen thing had tried to eat his leg; some random stone had pierced a tire and they had to wait until a car stopped to help them and the muscled father of the family aided them to change the tire; they had tagged 328 adults and 58 younglings within the 36 nests across 28 hectares. Should they worry about the spreading of the hairy Lovecraftian monstrosities any further? Maybe, but first they should get some profit out of it. Now they were on their way to the next town, way far along the road.

For moments, they held hands together, staying in silence. For moments, Dipper changed the gear lever. For moments, they stopped so she could pee, as unceremonious as it was; pregnancy issues, she could recall very well. But they were in their way, announced by the gorgeousness of the sunset, sealed between unsaid promises coming from silent smiles. For moments, they talked as well.

“What are we gonna call our baby, Dips?” She interrupted the sound of the radio ballad songs.

“Hadn’t we agreed we were going to wait to know what our baby is to suggest names?”

“I knoooooow but I really wanna start having this solitary baby tummy-mommy chatter and I can’t just keep calling our baby ‘unnamed baby in fabrication’”.

He laughed wholeheartedly, as only she could make him laugh.

“Ok then, what if it’s a boy”.

“Weeeeeell I was thinking about Bob, or Steve, or Ronan!” She said in joy.

“Ronan? Heck no, that sounds too much. What about Connor?”

“Mhmm, I like Connor” she nodded. “Ok, so what if it’s a girl”

“Well, I kind of thought about Madeline, or Samantha, or Cassiopeia!”

“Do you really want to call our baby girl like a Greek tragedy?” she dismissed with a defiant smile.

“Ok ok, maybe it’s kinda preposterous. That’s a hard choice, Mabes”

“What about Mabel 2.0? Like Grenda!”

“I still want to figure out how names with numbers are allowed, by the way” he asserted.

“Eh, we’ll know when we reach New Jersey”

He smiled with hope. It was a still-in-process plan, but it was something they could have for sure. That, if the thing with the eldritch furry monsters didn’t grow for them to having to change it. They were going to land at New Jersey, where the grunkles would reach in some months to help them to acquire the old pawn shop they once lived in. It was a plan, and that’s the only thing they needed to know as they approached their destiny.

“We’ll make it, Dips” She reassured with a gentle glance.

“I know” He said back, as they drove deep within the endless road. Life was theirs to live, and that was everything that mattered.

#Pinecest #summer of pinecest contest #gravity falls fanficfion #gravity falls fanfic

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songficsbyrissi · 4 years

Text

Lost Ones (Spooky Diaz x Reader)

Warnings: cursing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, abortion, and deadbeat fathers.

“And I ain't too proud to tell you

That I cry sometime, I cry sometimes about it

And girl, I know it hurt, but if this world was perfect

Then we could make it work, but I doubt it” - J. Cole

****************

Oscar “Spooky” Diaz sat on the edge of the bathtub, holding the blue and white stick tightly like you didn’t just pee on it. For some reason, he thought staring at the digital screen would change from 1 word into 2. Unfortunately, it was still that one word.

Pregnant.

You, his girlfriend, was pregnant. When you had suspicions that you were pregnant, you secretly went to the store to purchase 3 pregnancy tests and once you took them, they all said that same word.

Pregnant.

You and Spooky were expecting a child and this was not good news at all.

“Oscar, please say something.” You whispered so softly, staring at him with dried tears on your face.

He remained silent, still staring at the test. His head was swimming with thoughts. Maybe you weren’t even pregnant. Maybe it’s a prank and you were lying, but you were not this good of an actress. Besides, you would’ve busted out laughing by now.

Then the thought came to him that maybe it wasn’t his but that thought got shot down quickly in his head. You loved him with all your heart. You wouldn’t do that to him.

Did you purposely get pregnant? What happened to birth control? Then again, if you were to purposely get pregnant, you would be jumping in joy and not sitting on the floor in despair.

You got up from the floor and walked up to him, taking his hands. Your pleading eyes made contact with his.

“Please talk to me. Say something.”

Spooky finally spoke. “How did this happen?”

You sighed shaking your head. “Well when a man and a woman love each other very much or like each other or they’re just drunk enough, they wanna express it in a physical way which happens to produce a baby.”

Spooky had an unimpressed scowl on his face. “That’s not funny.”

“Do you see me laughing?” You shot back, tilting your head. Your head came back into its original position and you sighed once again.

“We need to talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? We can’t have a kid. Talk over.” Spooky got off the bathtub, tossing the pregnancy test in the trash. He washed his hands and went into the fridge to get a beer. All you could do was watch him do all this in shock. He chugged down the beer and you stared at him with your arms folded.

“Seriously, Spooky?”

He slammed the fridge close, glaring at you. “Seriously what? You really think it’ll be a good idea for us to have a child?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “It’s not like we never talked about it.”

“Yeah, we talked about it. FOR THE FUTURE.” Spooky got close in your face, emphasizing the last 3 words. “The future where we’re older, smarter, making a lot of money and most importantly, married. We are none of that right now.”

“I know that, and I know that this isn’t the ideal situation to bring a baby in, but like it or not, it’s here.” Your arms were folded again. You were hoping he would have a better response to this.

“Not for long because you’re getting that abortion, right?” He questioned taking a swig of beer.

You had a look on your face, as if he slapped you hard across the face and spit in it. You could physically feel your heart break. The man you love doesn’t want you to have his child. You couldn’t believe it. He had to be joking. Spooky saw the shocked and hurt expression on your face and sighed. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He never means to hurt you but he had to be realistic here. This is a life that was being discussed.

“I’m not trying to fight with you, Princesa. I’ve just been actually thinking. How are we going to raise a kid by ourselves? We are only 23!” He gestured all around you. “Does this seem like a good place to raise a kid? This neighborhood is dangerous. Where are we going to move to? Somewhere safer? Somewhere safer costs more money. Baby, I’m an ex-con. Only the jobs that barely pay shit hire ex-cons. We can’t live off your little receptionist job alone!”

You didn’t say anything. You just kept staring

at him with tears in your eyes. He took it as a sign to continue.

“Listen, I don’t want to bring mi hijo or mi hija in this world if I ain’t got shit to give them. I’m not going to leave but you gotta really think about it. Would it be smart for us to bring a child into this?”

Once your boyfriend finished his speech, you just backed away from him and stared out the window where kids were playing jump rope and riding their bikes outside. Little girls playing patty-cake and hopscotch while little boys played basketball and tag. You couldn’t stop the small smile that appeared on your face.

Looking out of the window gave you a bit of hope but Spooky didn’t see it. Maybe he didn’t want to see it.

“We have less than 9 months to figure something out.” You croaked out, still staring at the scene outside the window.

You heard a frustrated sigh behind you. “You’re not getting it.”

You finally turned around with angry tears flowing down your face. “No! You’re not getting it! You must’ve forgotten all the conversations we had way back! You remember those fucking conversations, Oscar?!”

He stared at you as the flashback hit him.

“It’s really crazy how Toya got pregnant. We’re only 21. We just became legal to drink and now she can’t.” You sighed as you laid your head on your boyfriend’s lap as he watched TV. He cleared his throat and didn’t say anything. He was always a man of a few words. Part of the reason why people feared him so much. Other than his little brother Cesar, you were the only person he would actually hold a full conversation with and talk for hours.

“Baby?” You said as you rose from his lap making eye contact with him. His hooded eyes focused on you. “What if we-“

“We’re not.” Spooky cut you off, already knowing where you were going with this.

“But what if.....we did?” You questioned softly. “And what would we do about it?”

Spooky groaned throwing his head back. “It’s not gonna happen. We’re smart.”

You folded your arms. “Smart people get pregnant too.” Your boyfriend inhaled deeply and didn’t say anything.

“The only 100% effective way to prevent pregnancy is not having sex and we’re obviously not going to do that.” You stated causing your boyfriend to snort in amusement and you elbowed him, rolling your eyes. “Seriously, Oscar. What if I was to get pregnant now? What would we do? What would you do?”

“I would do whatever it takes to make sure you and the baby are good. No matter what. The baby’s created and we gotta take responsibility because God don’t make mistakes. So if we tried to prevent it and you still ended up pregnant, we would just have to deal with it and make sure our child is born into a good situation.”

You just blinked because you were relieved that he wasn’t dismissing this conversation. He was actually thinking realistically. You saw him clench the bottle of beer he was drinking in anger.

“My father.....left me and Cesar and I still hate him for it. How am I supposed to be a father to him if I never got the chance to be a son? I always told myself that I would never put my child in that situation. It just starts a fucked up cycle and who knows when that cycle will be broken?”

Oscar shook his head as if he was trying to shake tears that were threatening to fall away. He took another drink of the beer. “I refuse to be him. I refuse to be a coward and turn my back on what I created.”

You smiled planting a soft kiss on his lips. “You’ll never be him.”

“Or did you forget that? Did you forget telling me that you wouldn’t turn your back on this? On us?”

“I’m not turning my back! I’m thinking realistically, Y/N!” Spooky began to shout now. He rarely shouted at you. That’s how you knew you were really under his skin.

“Oh really? Your exact words were-“

“I know what my exact words were! What you’re not getting is I changed my mind. People change, Y/N.”

You snorted in disbelief, laughing sardonically. “You sure did.”

“Don’t do that,” Spooky warned in a low voice coming closer but you didn’t back down.

“No! Fuck you Oscar! I should’ve known this is how you would act! You said you love me, now look at you! Singing a different song now that shit got real! I should’ve known you weren’t different from the rest. The rest of those guys who say whatever to get what they want! I LET YOU HIT RAW!” You pushed his chest as hard as you could, with your chest heaving up and down. “I let you fuck me raw, and now, I’m pregnant and you got the nerve to get in my face, talking about some abortion. This is my body, Oscar! I’m not aborting this baby! The only person taking this baby from me is God and last time I checked, YOU AIN’T GOD!”

“Y/N-“

“No! Shut the fuck up! I let you speak, and now it’s my turn!” You shoved a finger in his face as tears continued to roll down your face. “I’m going to love this baby, with or without you! My mom raised me by herself, and I’ll do the same with this child! I still don’t understand how you could be standing in my face, saying that when you said you hated your father and you would never be like your father! That you wouldn’t do that shit he pulled, but look at you! Doing the same shit! You ain’t shit! You ain’t shit to me, and as far as this child is concerned, you ain’t gonna be shit to them either.”

You got out of his sight, still holding a hand to your belly, and headed into the bathroom to continue crying your eyes out.

Spooky took a deep breath, trying to figure something out. He figured you didn’t mean what you said. You were just really upset. He had to make a decision. Stay here and wait for you to come out so you can probably talk about this or go out for a drive, giving you and him some space to cool down. He chose the latter, grabbing his keys and heading out the door.

On the drive, Spooky watched the scene where kids were playing and having fun. He began reminiscing about the times when Cesar was little and he would play with him outside. He remembered the tiny smile on his innocent face. He remembered how scary it was keeping Cesar safe on his own but he did it. He managed to raise his brother on his own and seeing that Cesar doesn’t want to be part of the Santos, he’d like to think he did a pretty good job.

Spooky doesn’t know how he did it but he managed to drive right to the park where he and his brother used to play on. There were still kids there. His hazel eyes focused on a little girl being helped by her dad on the monkey bars, giggling uncontrollably. Somehow, the little girl turned a little boy and her dad became....his dad. The little boy was him. He saw his younger self grin as he hung off the monkey bars and his father giving him a small smirk. The grin dropped a little. That memory happened before his father left his life and never came back.

“What about your seed, man?” His younger self looked straight at him and asked. Spooky’s eyes narrowed in confusion and he could’ve sworn he was seeing things.

“What about your seed?”

The vision returned back to the little girl smiling as she finished the monkey bars with her father grinning in pride. She hugged her father’s legs and he lifted her up, kissing her cheek repeatedly as she giggled in happiness. It was a beautiful sound.

He pulled off after he came to the conclusion that you and him had a lot to discuss. Maybe, he was too hasty, telling you to abort the baby. Maybe he was just scared and freaked out that he wanted the easy out but now he’s realizing it’s not necessarily what he wanted. But you were not going to find that out while he was out. He gotta go back home to you.

“Y/N?”

This house was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Spooky began to investigate. He went into the bedrooms and the bathroom. No sign of you anywhere. Your clothes were gone and you left no trace of you anywhere. You left him.

He took his phone out of his pocket to call you when a piece of paper on the counter caught his attention. It was handwritten and it only said two words.

You won.

Spooky clenched the note, falling onto the chair and just kept staring at those two words that managed to completely break his heart. What hurt the most is that he wasn’t sure what you meant by saying he won. Did you leave him for good, dedicated to being a single mother or did you change your mind, got the abortion, and left him because you hated him? Either way, you were wrong.

He was no winner at all in this situation.

TAGS: @karmawaelualani @chaneajoyyy @ctrlszn @witchything @sabrinafey @penguinpower17889 @robingreysantos @namjoonwatcheshentai @pananegra @bloatedandlonly @blackmissfrizzle @chonisberonica @flamingweasley @cynthetic @momobaby227 @this-glitter-pussay

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pluviophile-bookworm · 3 years

Text

HSMTMTS 2x9: so dreaded, so exciting, 'Sword!' (yeah, I went there, I've been thinking about this scene - you know the one - since yesterday for some reason)

After two computer malfunctions and a very tough, very sleepless night, here I am with a third attempt to write this post. The universe is against me today. Is Mercury in retrograde or something? Ugh, I just want to get this over with already. And I haven't even managed to see half the episode yet. You better like this cursed post because it's taken me two hours at this point, and will probably take another to finish - and that is if nothing goes wrong this time. Please bear with me. This is my reaction to HSMTMTS 2x9, take 3. Let's hope and pray it's the last one.

I'm normally [unpopular opinion alert] a very spoiler-positive person (it's the combination of anxiety and ADHD and a bunch of other stuff, I suppose), but for this one I've been refraining from looking at the tag all morning, so by now I'm simply bursting with impatience. But before we dive in, I need to get some stuff off my chest.

Some pre-watch thoughts and feelings (let's see how well they will have aged by the end of the episode):

Seriously, what is with whoever writes this show? I know it's impossible, but I feel like they've been toying with my emotions specifically all season. Like:

Ah, so you were a Rini shipper last season? Great, now we'll make them obnoxious and borderline toxic to the point where you actually want them to break up, but then their old chemistry will be back just for the breakup scene so that you can cry your eyes out over the one couple you couldn't stand - even though you can't seem to relate to a single song from Sour, we'll make you feel like you do for a hot second. At least it will remind you that you loved Ricky.

So you say Redlyn own your heart and soul? Great, we'll make you dread something going wrong with them for a week straight, and mess up your sleep schedule beyond repair over it. You're welcome!

We heard you said Rodfini give you life? Perfect, how about a big Seblos fight? And would you like a side of questioning your choice to stan Carlos with that? Because what is life without a little anxiety, a bit of doubt of your ability to read people, and a pinch of existential dread, right?

Ah, so you claimed not to ship Portwell romantically, is that right? Brilliant, we'll make you ship them and then we'll use that to torture you, too.

You've been excited about ABF and Asher Angel guest-starring ever since they were announced? Magnificent! We'll make you hate ABF's character to the point where you can't even look at him, and we'll make you call him names you thought yourself incapable of uttering. And as for Asher, you'll be left waiting for him until the last third of the season, and then you'll dread the possibility of hating his character, too. Do you love us yet?

Oof! Right then, I've got that out of my system. Time to dive in.

Miss Jenn playing around with the backgrounds is, like, 90% of the people who had online school this year, and honestly, I love that for her.

Wait, why is Nini first on this call? Are they going through with the Rose thing? Cos like, the song is nice and all (and, might I add, much more to my taste than nearly all of Sour, don't @ me), but if they use it, it will get them disqualified. They’ve been told that! Gosh, please let me be wrong about this.

We get it, Carlito, rich and fancy and over-the-top is kind of your thing, but have you stopped for a second to think about how others will feel about this? Especially Seb, whom you claim to care about. Seriously, though, I love Carlos and would not hesitate to die for him, but I’m getting the feeling that, unlike my other favourite (you know the one), he wouldn’t do the same for me. Oh well, he’ll figure it out. He’s just a kid. Give him time.

Wait, Milky White? Is that an Into the Woods reference I smell? Cool! If I had a cow, I’d totally name her Milky White (or Gertrude, but don’t ask me why). I just hope they don’t have to, like, take her to the market and exchange her for magic beans, if you catch my drift.

Ahhhhh, Caswell cousins content! We love to see it!

‘You guys are watching, like, old old movies’ WTH, Nini (or is it Nina)? Scary Movie is literally younger than me. But what do you know about it, you 21st-century baby! Ugh, I don’t know why I’m being so hostile today... must be the lack of sleep. Hope it doesn’t influence my reactions to the episode so dramatically as to make me forget how much I love this series. Because I do.

Yay! Big Red is here! I can finally smile. And did Ash just say they’re soulmates? Because yes they are! Ahhh my heart is going to explode.

‘Nini, have you heard from [Ricky]?’ Yikes, awkward... but of course, Big Red can be counted on to save the day here, too.

Ok, so that was a cool cold open. Time for some nice in-person scenes, though. I did not spend all of three semesters doing online school just to have the characters of my favourite series do the same.

Wow, Gina is really embracing that French accent thing! And I really don’t want to think about, erm, ‘Napoleon over here’ right now, but I really think the fact that she’s doing it better than him will be another piece of evidence towards my theory of fake-French!Antoine... ugh, I said his name. Oh well. Back to Gina. Too bad the French thing didn’t work out for her.

Ahhhh, Portwell with Ash in the background! And Ash is going to paint EJ’s nails! I feel like he’s going to end up loving that, despite what he says right now. But seriously, I just love how comfortable these two are with each other. Can you blame me now for shipping them as friends? Well, I mean, it’s obvious they will be more than friends, and somehow, despite the amatonormativity of it all, I’m here for it.

Wait, was that Asher? That was Asher, I’m 100% sure of it. And Gina said ‘a sign’ and then looked at him, even from the back... what am I supposed to think and feel here? I’m confused. Moving on.

Ahh, poor Ricky being a burrito... good thing that breakup scene last time reminded me that I love him, because the entirety of the season before that was very good at making me forget that.

Wait, did she say ‘the Bean’? As in, that Bean? The infamous Bean? LOL.

‘So the only time you two talk to each other is to gossip about me’ Boy, did I feel that. I once got my hands on my dad’s mobile and I... kind of went through his texts with mum. Yep, all about me and my brother. At this point I feel like they’re only together because of us. But this is getting too personal. I’m here about the episode, not to rant about my family. Moving on.

Yikes, looks like Nini’s got writer’s block all over again. Am I supposed to feel sorry for her? Because I kind of don’t. I mean, no hate towards her, none at all, but that entire scene just felt awkward and unnecessary. And not just because it’s her first time going live. That I can understand. What I don’t understand is why the writers can’t seem to do anything creative and interesting with Nini. Olivia is being wasted there. Idk, that’s just how I feel. Again, no hate.

Ahhhhh it’s Asher! And well, he’s not Jonah, but I kind of really like him as Jack. I wonder if that will last.

So is it just me, or is anyone else not quite sure how to feel about Ricky’s mum? I mean, their interactions seem kind of awkward and strained, but that’s how it’s supposed to be given their recent history, and yet something just doesn’t sit quite right with me.

‘You there, Muse? It’s me, Nini!’ Ah, so it’s Nini again? I didn’t get the memo. Gosh, this episode is kind of really underwhelming. The most exciting thing so far (but not nearly as exciting in practice as it was in theory) – Asher and Sofia’s on-screen reunion. The second most exciting thing? The thought of Ash painting EJ’s nails. Everything else? Kind of ‘whatever’. Is this what I tossed and turned about all night? Totally not worth it. This episode better get, like, 300% better right this instant. It’s just not worth all the frustration and excitement and dread so far.

Looks like my prayers from just now have been heard! That improv scene was hilarious! Guess it was lucky that Miss Jenn had them do improv before this moment. But I need to know more of Jack’s backstory now.

Ok, so that was awkward! So Kourtney is talking to Howie again, I guess. And I guess I know now what Carlos did that was all public and no subtle. Still, what’s wrong with posting photos from your holiday? Guess I don’t exactly know yet what Carlos did to piss the others off so much.

Great, now I’m tempted to google butterfly faces. Good thing I’m not eating anymore. *** Ughhhhh this was a mistake! Please don’t ever look a butterfly in the face if you want to stay sane. Don’t be like me.

Ahhh the Duke sweater! ‘Is that your boyfriend’s?’ Well, not quite yet, it’s not... *screams in Portwell*

Oh, now we’re talking! But seriously, Ricky? The ‘my friends think’ card? Why don’t you just say ‘I think’? It’s clearly something you’ve thought about a lot. I feel like I’m going to love this scene or cry over it or both.

Ooh, therapy. It’s not just... basically the entire fandom... who says it now. Please tell me that means Ricky will be going to therapy at some point. Says the girl who is currently firmly refusing to go to therapy in favour of hyperfixating on HSMTMTS and getting back into the good old practice of having imaginary friends... yeah, I’m one to talk.

My, my, my! Seb has really had it now. I mean, it was about time, but... not quite like this. My heart is starting to do some weird stuff, I can feel it. I might need to lie down.

Ok, so as much as I envy North High for getting to see so many shows on BWay – basically living out my dream – stalking East High on Instagram and being shady about them taking a well-deserved break... just goes beyond all limits. I mean, if you’re so into Broadway shows, you should know as well as I do what happened the last time a certain founding father did not take a break. Maybe you’re the ones in need of a break here.

Nini on the call with the Caswell cousins, though... ‘I’m obsessed with both of you’ – first relatable thing she’s said or done all season. And EJ playing with old toys is pure gold.

Oh, so Jack’s dad is a pilot. Makes sense, I guess. I’m kind of intrigued by this guy. Just as long as he doesn’t try to come between Portwell before they’ve had the chance to happen, you know...

Ashlyn might need to stop swooning over Nini’s songwriting or Big Red might get jealous... I mean, I would not have pinned him as the jealous type before 2x7, but ever since then... I guess insecure + dating a girl like Ash = the jealous type. And although that looks good on him, I’d bet anything it doesn’t feel particularly pleasant on his side. So... wait, why am I talking about Big Red? He hasn’t even got anything to do with the scene at hand. But then again, there’s been so little Big Red content in this episode that I seem to be trying to make up for it. Still. Stay focused.

Ooh, so Big Red did edit that video! Is there anything my boy can’t do? Ok, now I feel like he’s even more criminally underappreciated than he was before. But let’s look at the video. I’m curious to see the whole thing because that sneak peek from yesterday simply hasn’t been enough.

That was... really, really cool! I love how they took the ‘when they go low, we go high’ line from last time and run with it. Now if only they were putting as much effort into BATB... North High wouldn’t know what hit them.

Hmmmm... I guess Gina and Jack could be what I originally wanted Portwell to be... really cool friends. Unless it’s one of those ‘airport magic’ things. Oh well. It probably is. Was that all we’re seeing of Asher here? I did not wait 2/3 of the season for this. Though it was nice.

Ooh, Ricky’s solo song... why is there more Rini chemistry in this song than there was in all the season? Not counting the breakup scene, of course. Also, I feel like it’s just as much about him and his mum as it is about Nini. Some say music is the best therapy. I think they might be right. And no, I’m not crying. You are.

The granola bar, though... this episode might have been very underwhelming in the first half, but... it delivered in the Portwell front, and the music was *chef’s kiss*, so I’m willing to let it slide that the advertised Seblos ‘big fight’ was not touched upon nearly enough. Maybe next week...

Ok, now that we’re done watching the episode, let’s see how my feelings from the beginning have aged:

The Rini breakup: apparently, along with reminding me that I love Ricky, it has rendered me unable to look at Nini. What’s up with that? If this is some sort of tactic along the lines of ‘Olivia might be leaving the show so we’re making you hate her character so that you won’t miss her’, it’s not really working. Because I don’t want to hate Nini. Believe me, I don’t.

Redlyn: ok, so there’s nothing wrong with them whatsoever - we even got a ‘soulmates’, which I loved - but first they’re being swept under the rug, and then the antis come at us with that ‘their relationship is underdeveloped’ nonsense. Individually, though, I liked them in this episode (even if there was a significant shortage of Big Red), and Ashlyn collaborating with Nini again was cool, but... what I really wanted to see was her painting EJ’s nails. Did she even get the chance to actually do it? Maybe next week.

Seblos: I’m still failing to understand exactly what Seb thinks Carlos did wrong (please enlighten me if you did catch that, I’m kind of slow), but he (Seb) does have reasons to be mad at him (Carlos)... and at other people, too. Still, if you want to have a fight between two people in a relationship, you could do much better than whatever this episode was. Maybe next week. I notice I’m saying that a lot. Guess I’m putting a lot of hopes on 2x10. I just pray it doesn’t disappoint.

Portwell: boy, am I happy that my frustration on this front did not age well! What I mean is, apparently they’ve decided to bless us, not torture us for once. Even a rather disappointing episode like this one had to have some sort of silver lining. And Portwell is it.

Asher as Jack: well, luckily I didn’t hate him, but... it’s kind of the opposite problem. I loved him and now they’re taking him away from me. Guess I just can’t win here. Oh well. At least he didn’t have the screen time to get in between Portwell...

All in all: 2x10, my hopes and prayers are with you!

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