#and by then it's probably time for an inquiry fic anyways

[stopmyhearts]

I'm gonna have to write Romana bleeding out in Leela's arms myself am I

[snoopyhughes]

And he feels like home (j. hughes)

Happy winter fic exchange! @one-night-story I am so thrilled to be able to have written this for you! I hope I created something that you love that you feel fully represented in and safe to read. 🩷

Demi @wyattjohnston, thank you as always for creating such a wonderful event for our community. Your hard work for these exchanges will never go unnoticed by me, I appreciate you so much.

And thank you to @thomasschabot for proofreading this for me and making sure it was accessible for all to read, I appreciate you so much my friend!

Title was taken from long story short by Taylor Swift. This is 4.7k words, gender neutral reader. It has been double checked by lovely c to ensure that it is safe for all to read <3

new neighbor

You considered yourself to be a very patient person. You were also extremely understanding. You didn't get upset or frustrated by much. You were a good person, sometimes you allowed people to get away with things for their own sake, even if it inconvenienced you in anyway. But at this point, you had had enough.

Since you moved into your apartment in August, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you had talked to your neighbors. You were in the corner apartment, the last at the end of the hall, your only neighbors being two young men who you presumed to be brothers.

You ran into them a few times in the hallway, the two of them hardly ever separated. You knew they left in the mid afternoon, usually in suits. You assumed it was for work, but you never felt inclined to ask. They usually look rushed, the older one pestering the younger one to "hurry up" as he got out the door.

It was only this week that you had learned their names. A piece of their mail had accidentally been dropped in your box. The name addressed as "Jack Hughes." You contemplated what to do with it, standing at their door with the letter in your hands for a few minutes when the door suddenly burst open, the younger brother opening the door.

"Oh! Hello," he muttered out awkwardly. Neither of you had known the other's name, but you both knew each other as neighbors. "Hi! Are you Jack?" You asked awkwardly, not holding out the card, making your question seem like a random inquiry. "No, I'm Luke, Jack is my brother. Why do you ask? Do you need something?" He asked in an almost bothered tone, as if people frequently came to him asking for unwanted favors.

"Oh! Duh. A piece of Jack's mail got put in my box by accident. I assume it's okay if I drop it with you?" You asked, making you almost instantly face palm. "Yep, that works. Anyway, I'm late to something. Thanks for dropping it off..." He mumbled off at the end, not knowing what to insert for your name. You told him your name, and that was that.

That was earlier this week. This was now Friday. Occasionally, you could tell that they had some small parties. Nothing too outlandish for an apartment building that shared thin walls, but a decent amount of people resulting in a louder volume. You were young yourself, you were never going to complain for a small amount of volume on the occasional Saturday night. This however, had been far too much.

You swear this was the 3rd night in a row of their little parties, and you had dealt with far too much. It was mid April, you were studying for a big exam you had. Part of your move in August was to signal the start of your journey to get your masters degree. You were almost done with the semester, just a few big exams in between, this being one of them. You knew that it seemed a little lame, studying for exams on a Friday night, but part of the move was moving to New Jersey where there was a school that was one of the best in the country for your intended major, not super close to home. With all of your studying and academic work, including working to pay for the apartment and schooling, you didn't have much time to socialize. You had gone to coffee with some people from your classes, but not much beyond that, not enough to warrant Friday night plans towards the end of the semester.

Slamming your textbook, you decided you had officially reached your limit. You paced back and forth a bit, trying to calm down a bit in an attempt to hopefully not absolutely lose it on your neighbor. It wasn't that late, but you had been studying all day with minimal breaks. You couldn't see the end of the studying in sight if your neighbors kept the music at the volume they had. You wondered how the people on the other side of them weren't bothered by the noise, but then again you had probably seen them even less than you had seen Jack and Luke.

You slipped your feet into the pair of shoes closest to the door, banging on the door in an attempt for them to hear it over the blaring music. You took a small step back when a man you didn't recognize answered the door. "Can I help you?" A dark haired man with an accent asked. Before you could open your mouth, a very energetic Jack came bustling towards the door. "Y/N! To what do I owe this pleasure?" He asked with a charming smile, almost causing your reserve to break down. But when your brain came back after the sound of the music blared through your ears, you remembered why you were over here.

"Do you know what time it is?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. "It's only 11. It's a Friday night. But based on your casual attire, I doubt that matters much to you," Jack quipped at your casual pajamas. "For your information, Jack, I'm studying for a big exam. Clearly you don't know much about that." You snapped back.

"For your information, my team just made the playoffs. We have a lot to celebrate." Jack flexed, causing his chest to puff out a bit. "I don't care which of your beer league teams made the playoffs, but I would really like to pass my first year of my masters program and not have to repeat. That is, after all, how I ended up here, as your neighbor." You were starting to lose your patience, and instead of Jack surrendering, he started laughing.

"Beer league, huh. Do you not know?" You rolled your eyes. "If this is your attempt at a 'Do you know who I am?' moment, you're failing severely. Or even better, if it's going to be a 'do you know who my father is?' Just save me the time, I have an exam to study for," you had one foot out the door when Jack grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

"Relax, I just figured you knew because that seems to be all anyone wants from us who lives in this building. Favors relating to our job. Luke and I play for the New Jersey Devils, the NHL team around here. It's okay that you don't know, however I hope now that you do, you'll choose us to be your favorite team." Jack smirked at you, causing you to giggle, which resulted in you immediately covering your mouth. What was happening to you? You didn't giggle over charming guys.

"Oh, did you guys win or something? Seems like an awfully long time to be celebrating one win," you quipped. "We made it into the playoffs. We are the number one seed. We've been celebrating for a few days because we have a bit of time off. I am sorry, it is probably excessive. We'll turn it down and remind the guys that we aren't the only ones who live here." Jack put his tail between his legs. You did feel a bit bad, but you were glad the noise was going to at least quiet down.

"I hope I didn't come off like a jerk, I just got flustered. I know you didn't know. I shouldn't have come over attacking." You muttered, causing Jack to smile.

"I'll accept your apology on one condition. Do you think you can find some time in your busy finals schedule to come to one of our games? I can get you more details when the playoffs schedule comes out, but I would it if you could come. I think Luke might be a little jealous that I softened you up first, but it just adds for some more bragging rights on the kid."

You couldn't believe your ears. Your cute, albeit a little clueless neighbor, was not only a professional athlete, but he was also asking you on a date if you weren't mistaken.

"Well Jack, I'd love to, but you just better hope I pass this exam." You smiled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Good thing we're gonna turn the volume down."

2. first game

What do you wear to a hockey game that you were invited to by your neighbor who you have only talked to a few times but you think he may have been awkwardly potentially flirting with you when he invited you?

You were digging through your closet, looking for something appropriate to wear for probably one of the most awkward, unique events you have ever been to. You can't say that you had ever been to a professional hockey game. You weren't clueless to the rules and such, you just never had the opportunity to attend one in person.

Not to mention, you were going alone. You only had a few casual friends at school through this point in the year, and it didn't feel appropriate to bring any of them to this... interesting event you were going to. Plus, you were certain that you would be wrapped up in the game. You were nervous enough as is, and you can't imagine if you had to sit there and make awkward small talk with one of your classmates who might be able to say what your last name is.

Sitting in the uber on the way there made you start to question your choice of agreeing to go to the game. You had no idea how this would go other than you knew that Jack had slipped the ticket under your door earlier this morning and written on it was instructions on how to get to the gate. One thing that caused your cheeks to heat was that on the bottom of the post it note, was his phone number.

This made it feel almost official in a way, having his phone number. Before you could dwell on it too much, your uber pulled up to the door that Jack directed you to. You thanked the driver and walked in to the stadium, immediately overwhelmed by everything. For a second you considered turning around and making something up to Jack that you were sick, but when you took a second to look around, you saw so many happy people with Jack's last name plastered across their backs, number 86 standing proudly. You felt a sense of pride for Jack, though you weren't sure how to feel about that.

That sense of pride never went away once the game started. Your eyes were on Jack from the second his feet touched the ice, and the moment he sat on the bench. Your eyes followed him all the way to the bench, wishing the time he wasn't on the ice would go faster. You wondered why you had never been interested on hockey. Jack was so talented, and the game ended with him scoring a goal and getting two assists. You thought for a second that he was looking up at you when he scored, but you shook your head quickly to rid your brain of those thoughts.

As the game ended, it suddenly occurred to you that you weren't sure how this would end. You sat in your seat for a while letting the seats clear out, preparing to walk towards the gate that you entered in, opening the uber app. As soon as your phone unlocked, a message from Jack popped up on your phone.

"Meet me outside," it read. "I'd like to take you to dinner and drive you home. I'll meet you by the gate you entered in."

Your cheeks flushed at his admission, suddenly looking down at your outfit. Was this appropriate for a dinner date? You were not planning on this at all. You checked what you looked like in the front camera of your phone. Before you could decide whether or not you looked appropriate, you heard a familiar laugh. Your chest warmed at the idea that his laugh could be so familiar, so homey despite the fact that the two of you had not spent much time together.

Jack's feet sped up as he caught up to you, just excited to see you after a great win. His smile was contagious when he saw you standing there, staring at your sneakers in an attempt to not be noticed by the rest of the guys who might ask questions.

In the end, it wasn't Jack who spoke up first. It was Luke. "Y/N! I'm so glad you came! I wanted to score for you, but unfortunately this guy beat me to it," he smiled, throwing an arm around your shoulders. You tried to relax into his arms, telling yourself this was a new normal in your life. Casual banter with your neighbors who just so happen to be professional athletes making millions of dollars.

"Hey back off, I invited them. You dropped the ball. Your turn is up, by the way," Jack muttered, causing Luke to give a quizzical look. Taking advantage of Luke's moment of confusion, Jack sneaks around him and puts his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. A noise of surprise comes out of your mouth. Not discomfort, just surprise at his sudden display of physical affection. "That was awesome!" Jack yelled. "Did you have so much fun?" He asked, pulling away to see your face looking up at him.

"Well it would have been more fun if Luke scored for me but I guess I'll settle for your points," you teased. He smiled, his cheeks turning red at your teasing. "Y/N, is Jack blushing? Did you turn him into a shy mess?" Luke teased and Jack groaned, hiding his face in your shoulder. "I just want to impress you," he smiled which caused your entire body to heat up. It never occurred to you that he wanted to impress you. That you were there because he wanted you to be impressed with his game and how he played.

"Well don't worry, I was thoroughly impressed. Would you like to go to dinner now?" You asked. "Am I invited? Is this like a neighborly get together?" Luke was now teasing you both, causing both of you to get bashful. "Dude, clearly this is a date," Jack mumbled, causing your eyebrows to raise. "Clearly? Is that what we're calling it now. I mean I certainly thought it was, but you never asked me." You and Luke were truly just having fun with the teasing now.

"Jack, it's not very gentlemanly to assume it's a date. You really should ask, especially with someone like Y/N. They're a catch!" Jack was glaring daggers into Luke. "Yes, I should. Y/N, I would like tonight to be a date. Will you go out on a date with me?" Jack asked, grabbing your hand in his. You were grinning, nodding your head. "Well then, Luke I think it's past your bedtime. Why don't you go home with Holtzy and I will take Y/N out for dinner?" Luke shook his head, giggling. "Wouldn't you like that," he laughed. "Luke-" "Fine! Fine! I'm done. I'll go. Y/N, it was a pleasure to laugh with you. You kids enjoy yourself."

"I have a feeling we will."

3. first (real) date

Your dinner with Jack was perfect. You finally got the news back that you had passed the exam you were stressing about, and to celebrate, you got your favorite take out and watched Jack's game on the couch with a glass of wine. It was strange, to whole heartedly notice his absence when him and Luke were away for games. Right now, they were on a short West coast road trip, Denver, Arizona, and Seattle, and then heading back home for a few days off before a home game.

This was their last game being gone, and you found yourself waiting hopefully for Jack to come back. You had been texting a lot on the road trip, Jack even calling you once after he crawled into the empty bed next to Jesper's bed. According to Jack, his friend, teammate, and road roommate Jesper slept like the dead, even going as far as to wearing headphones when he slept, so there was no concern of the call waking him up. That didn't stop you from keeping your voice to a low volume, which Jack of course countered by yelling an obnoxious "What was that?" whenever he couldn't hear you.

After a Devils win, you crawled into bed for the night, finding yourself thinking of Jack, and how you couldn't wait to see him. You were in so deep.

------

As you cleaned up the remnants of your late afternoon lunch, a knock sounded on your door. You had a feeling you knew who it was, but you still checked the peephole to see Jack's face on the other side, nervously rocking back and forth on his feet, holding something in his hand.

Flowers.

"Hi, it's so good to see you!" You smiled, welcoming him inside. "These are for you. I wasn't sure if it was appropriate, but I wanted to ask you something, so I thought these might help. I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go to dinner with me on Friday? We have a game on Thursday night, and I thought a more formal, not after a game greasy pizza joint dinner would be fun. That is, if you are interested? If not, it's okay, I was just," you finally cut him off with a hand on his arm. "Jack! I'd love to. The flowers are beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me. I would love nothing more." You smiled, causing an audible sigh to come from Jack's lips.

"Oh thank God! Sorry, I didn't want to ramble, I just really got nervous. I wanted you to say yes but I didn't want to sound weird or make you uncomfortable." He smiled. Neither of you knew what was going on. Jack was stunned that his neighbor who he had barely talked to but admired from afar had turned him into a nervous, blushing mess. You also couldn't say you were expecting to fall for your neighbor. But when he was gone, you came to that conclusion: you were absolutely falling for Jack. You were falling for him, you couldn't understand how it had happened or why, but you absolutely were.

When it came time for your date to come, you felt more nervous than you did for the game. Jack had let you know that you were going to be going to a nicer restaurant. You picked his brain a bit at what to wear. What you didn't know is that he had preplanned his outfit, mannerisms, conversations, basically his every move for the date with his mom and brothers. Well, mostly Quinn. When Luke saw how nervous he was, he was constantly teasing him. Luke loved to tease him about how you should have fallen for him instead of Jack. Of course it was all jokes, as soon as the two of you started hanging out Luke could immediately see the chemistry between the two of you. He knew that your connection was much deeper than any sort of joke he could make. He was really happy for his older brother, finally seeing him fall for a person who made him truly happy.

When you decided on an outfit that was both appropriate for the occasion and made you feel good about yourself, you started pacing by the front door of your apartment, anxiously waiting for Jack to come. It was about 10 minutes before he said he would arrive. On the other side of the wall, Jack thought about coming a few minutes early, but his mom immediately shut that down. Jack argued that he wanted to seem timely and didn't want to keep you waiting. Ellen shut him down, though.

"How long does it take you to walk 10 steps next door? You never want to rush someone getting ready, especially for a first date." Luke was cackling in the background, of course.

At 6:00 on the dot, Jack was knocking on your door. He was almost more nervous than when he came by a few days before asking if you wanted to go to dinner with him, if that was even possible. When you opened the door, Jack planted his feet in the ground, willing himself to not fall over on his ass and make a complete fool of himself.

You were absolutely stunning. You looked so amazing in Jack's eyes. He felt himself blushing as soon as you opened the door. He was thanking his lucky stars, wondering how he had gotten so lucky as to find someone as special as you.

"Y/N..." he finally breathed out, his heart racing. "What? Do I look okay?" You began to feel nervous under his intense gaze, your hands instinctively picking at your fingernails. "Okay would be an insult. You look incredible. These are for you, by the way," Jack handed you the flowers he forgot he even had. "That's so sweet! You didn't have to bring me flowers. The ones you brought me a few days ago are still going strong. They will look beautiful together, though."

You took a minute to put the flowers in a vase. Jack was watching you from afar, you felt his eyes on you, following you around your small kitchen. Truthfully, he was admiring you. He couldn't help but blush at the sight of you, putting flowers in the vase that he bought for you, getting ready for the date that he was taking you out on. He felt like he won the lottery.

When you turned around, you saw him blushingly admiring you, causing your own cheeks to heat up. "What has you so smiley?" you asked, taking a step closer to him, bravely grabbing his hand in yours. You rubbed your thumb over his hand in an attempt to help him feel calm. Jack was certain no one had ever made him feel this nervous. Certainly not someone he was dating. "I just can't believe how beautiful you are. I feel so lucky that you are going out with me."

Both of you were nervous wrecks at this point. Before you could convince yourself otherwise, you were leaning forward, kissing him on the cheek. As soon as Jack felt your lips on his skin, he knew he had to kiss you. "Can I kiss you? Like, on the lips," he muttered, causing you to giggle. "Yes Jack, you can kiss me, like on the lips." He groaned at your teasing, but before he could throw his head back exasperatedly, you leaned forward, capturing his lips with your own.

Jack felt himself melt, holding onto your waist in an attempt to hold himself up straight. It was official. You had softened Jack into a gushy, pillowy mess. And Jack had never been so happy.

+1. as a couple

6 months later

"Jack, honey, if you keep stomping any louder, the people below us are gonna come complain," you muttered teasingly at him. "You really think they can hear you? Besides, if they came and complained, I would simply explain to them that my amazing partner, whom I care for very much, is meeting my family for the first time, and I think they would understand." He quipped back, causing you to laugh.

Jack's parents were coming in to town for the first time in the new season. Before you met Jack, you had long planned to spend the summer abroad with your closest friend. Jack was thrilled for you, but disappointed you wouldn't be able to spend time together over the summer at his summer house. He did however, jet off to meet you in Italy for a week, which was perfect. Ordinarily, you probably would have met Jack's parents already, but with the chaos of your summer, it was now the Devils home opener, and you had yet to meet your boyfriend's parents.

"If I'm so amazing, why are you so nervous for me to meet them?" Jack groaned, causing you to laugh. Teasing each other was something so common, but it was always done lovingly. It was almost a love language of sorts between the two of you.

"Babe, how many times have I talked to Quinn on FaceTime with you? And Luke is the best friend I have here in Jersey, besides you obviously, so it's just your parents. Who, by the way, we have also Facetimed with a handful of times together."

"I know, but in person it's different. They might get knocked on their ass by your good looks and charm, just like I was. And besides, if you think Luke's teasing and sarcasm is bad, just wait until you meet my dad. Where do you think he gets it from?" Jack continues to ramble. To an outsider, it might look like Jack didn't want you to meet his parents, but you both knew it was the complete opposite. The two of you hadn't been together for that long, but in a way that didn't matter. Jack was close to saying the "l word," and you probably weren't that far behind him. He wanted you to meet his parents because he wanted them to love you as much as he did. You felt the same way.

In an attempt to stop his never ending nerves, you took the few steps across the room towards him, putting your hand on his cheek and pulling him in for a soft kiss. "Jack, I am thrilled to meet your parents. If it makes you feel any better, I am a bit nervous too. I want them to like me. Although, I'm sure you've bored them to tears with stories making me seem like I'm the most amazing person on the Earth." "Because you are," Jack intervened, serious as a heart attack.

You laughed at his genuine tone, he was always buttering you up. "They'll love you, because you're amazing. Besides, Lukey and Quinn already love you. This will be easy work for you. The shock of me being in a serious relationship has already worn off. They're thrilled to meet you," you laughed at his half hearted attempt at a joke.

"Besides, I'm sure they will be so excited to meet the person who has turned you into a sap," you laughed, causing Jack's mouth to open in shock. "I am not a sap!" He tried to quip back, but you both knew he was absolutely lying. He was so soft on you, something none of his loved ones had ever seen. "Jack, yesterday you laid your nice jacket over a puddle in the nasty streets of Jersey for me to walk over because there was no way around it," you stared back at him. "That puddle was huge! Your pant legs would've been soaked, I know you would've hated that." You laughed at his kind hearted attempt at an explanation.

"You are one of a kind Jack Hughes," you started. "I truly love you." As soon as the words came out of your mouth, your hand covered it in shock. Of course you loved Jack, but you were so nervous to tell him. You had never said those words to someone romantically before, and you were both certain he would say it first, even though you hadn't talked about it before.

"You love me?" He asked, his voice quivering. "Of course I love you, did you miss the puddle story? I would be crazy not to have fallen in love with you." At this point, both of your eyes were watery, Jack's grip on your shoulders never wavering. "Oh my God, you love me. Oh my God, wait, I love you! I love you so much! I can't believe I haven't said it back yet! I love you!" Jack was over the moon, causing you to laugh wetly.

You had absolutely softened Jack to his core. But you were nothing but soft for him, the two of you a perfect match for each other. When you pulled each other in for a kiss, the love between the two of you was imminent, the nerves of the upcoming event melting away. Jack couldn't wait to introduce you to his parents as his partner whom he loved so much, and you couldn't wait to love them as much as you loved him.

[aziraphales-library]

Any recommendations of fics where Crowley and Aziraphale are roommates/neighbours?

Here are some housemates and neighbours fics that I've read and loved...

Safe In Your Arms by AppleSeeds (T)

After moving out of his flat following a fire, Aziraphale moves in with Crowley, who turns out to be very lovely and seems determined to do anything he can to comfort Aziraphale when he finds out about the nightmares he's been having.

What Aziraphale Wants by mozbee (G)

“You could shower at my place, if you like,” Aziraphale says. He’s a step out of the lift before he realizes what he said. He quickly laughs, turning to face Crowley, to dismiss it as fast as it had come out, and sees he’s being stared at. “You mean that?” Crowley asks, an arm out to keep the lift doors from closing. Aziraphale fights off the threatening blush. It won’t do to have Crowley know he’s practically foaming at the mouth to have him spend more time with him. Because Crowley is his friend, his confidante. He can tell him anything. Except Crowley is also devastatingly handsome. --- Aziraphale is just being neighbourly, inviting Crowley over to use his shower while his bathroom is being remodelled. It has nothing to do with the pounding lust that fills him when he thinks of Crowley nude in his home. He's just being nice. Now if these pesky feelings would leave him alone...

Good Neighbours, Good Fences (and Other Misunderstandings) by out_there (E)

The first time Crowley meets his downstairs neighbour, Aziraphale is breaking into his flat. He's not what Crowley imagined in a burglar -- he's fussy, old-fashioned, and surprisingly adorable. Crowley is intrigued, Aziraphale is ready to share a good wine... and possibly more.

District of (un-)Certainty by jamgrl (M)

Aziraphale is a PhD student who needs a roommate so he can continue to afford his house in the U.S. capital of Washington D.C. Luckily, the family he tutors for on the side just happened to find him one! He doesn’t think he will like him much since he is in the states to work on Mr. Dowling’s senate campaign, so he’s probably a terrible person (even if he is good looking). Crowley is pretty independent and doesn’t really have a lot of what you would call “friends”. But he doesn’t mind his new roommate. He would much rather hang out with him than his coworkers, anyways. His roommate’s best friends Anathema and Newt aren’t too bad, either. It’s nice to have some friends. Maybe he likes it in D.C. --- They are millenials! But still British and still old fashioned- just a little twist on our favorite husbands.

Between Comfort And Chaos by anathxmadevice (T)

“And how long have you two been a couple?” “Oh, I—” Aziraphale panics. “Ha, well, that’s a funny… We’re not actually—” “We’re just friends.” Crowley says, their voice clear and calm and lightly amused, either because of or in spite of Aziraphale’s flailing attempts to divert the conversation. “Ah, yes, quite.” Aziraphale says, then takes a sip of his drink just for something to do, instead of focussing on the way Crowley said just friends, and how it causes a painful throb in his chest that he has never fully got used to. His memory can only scrabble at the edge of a time where being just friends with Crowley didn’t feel like a particular form of torture. * Or, Aziraphale has been desperately in love with his best friend and housemate Crowley since they were students, but is too scared to do anything about it.

Won't You be My Neighbor? by ProblematicPitch, Spiro (T)

When Mr. A. Z. Fell moves to the quiet English village of Tadfield, he expects nosy neighbors and inquiries into his eccentric, solitary life. What he doesn't anticipate is Anthony J. Crowley, the surly nuisance / next-door-neighbor, who might very well need a friend as much as he does.

And I'll just drop a quick link to the popular and oft-recommended Or Be Nice, because I know someone will mention it if I don't.

- Mod D

[lu-dao-writes]

— 𝐖𝐞’𝐫𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 (𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙚 & 𝙆𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙨)

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 You couldn’t predict this.

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜(𝙨) Horror, blood and violence, gore, unrequited love, stalking, murder, paranoia, nightmares, hallucinations, manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of sleep deprivation and insomnia, implied/referenced to self harming, choking, organ stealing, spiteful behavior, slight details of broken body, mentions of entrails.

𝘼/𝙉 I originally planned for this to be a oneshot, but I started disliking it when it started typing what I wrote. So I decided to format it this way! Maybe you’ll get the full fic one day!

I saw a picture on tumblr of a slightly scary looking Vere with sharp teeth and it got me thinking! Plus I wanted to try and practice some horror! This isn’t necessarily yandere but you can think that if you want! This is more of Vere being spiteful because he wasn’t picked. If it was anyone other than Kuras, he probably wouldn’t do this (in my mind anyways). Please heed the warnings y’all.

— Jealous!Vere who has feelings for you but he’s not one to be super open about how he feels.

— Jealous!Vere who only gives you nuggets of his feelings, you think he’s just being Vere, a flirt, but he thinks he’s being obvious when he’s flirting with you.

— Jealous!Vere who found out you’re dating that fucking doctor when he saw you both sharing a kiss under the moon in a lonely alleyway.

— Jealous!Vere who’s beyond hurt and angry he starts treating you like how he did before. Sharp remarks coated with sugary playfulness, gaslighting you whenever you try to ask about his sudden change of behavior.

— Jealous!Vere who starts poisoning your mind. He starts stalking you and you believe it’s people from the Senobium. It’s all too perfect and once you’re paranoid enough, he starts tormenting your dreams, turning them into haunting nightmares.

— Jealous!Vere who feigns concern when he hears from Ais that you’re rapidly deteriorating, only able to sleep for short periods at a time.

— Jealous!Vere who starts making you feel like you’re hallucinating when it’s just his shadows.

— Jealous!Vere who caught you self harming in the alley when you excused yourself from the group suddenly. He was beyond amused, having caught you doing something like that and knowing Kuras has no idea about your new habit either.

— Jealous!Vere who scares and confuses you as he just stares at you, blood dripping from your cursed arm. Did his teeth just change? Were they suddenly razor sharp when he licked the wine from his lips.

“Better bandage that. Who knows what you’ll attract~.”

— Jealous!Vere who didn’t tell a soul what he witnessed.

— Jealous!Vere who waits for you to come crawling to him for answers and instead of answering you, he tempts you with a “cure”.

— Jealous!Vere who refrains for grinning as you readily accept his help, and he takes you far away where it’s quiet, the moon being the only witness.

— Jealous!Vere who continues with his story, claiming you have a nasty monster clinging to your shadow and slowly feeding from you.

— Jealous!Vere who smiles warmly at your inquiry again about why he’s been treating you so differently. He caresses your face to further assure you. His smile is inviting, but his stare is not.

“Did you do something wrong? Oh my dear, you have no idea.”

— Jealous!Vere who suddenly has your throat in his hand, tightening when he explains what you’ve done.

“I know you’re foolish, most humans are, but to think that you’re idiotic enough to pick that fucking doctor when I was right there and hand feeding you hints, is downright insulting.”

— Jealous!Vere who forced your knees to the muddy ground, his tail wagging excitedly at your weak struggling and at your confusion and distress.

“So yeah, you did do something wrong. And I won’t forgive you for it.”

— Jealous!Vere who licks your tears and smiles down at you with inhuman, pearly white daggers, telling you that your shouldn’t cry when you asked for this, and how easy it was to ruin you.

“You wanted a cure right? Be thankful I love you so much to grant you your sweet release~.”

— Jealous!Vere who rips your heart out and holds it like it’s a precious gift from the heavens, the organ still beating.

—Jealous!Vere who licks the organ and moans at the blood coating his tastebuds.

— Jelaous!Vere who cradles your dying body in his arms, kissing your skin. And when you’re finally gone he steals your eyes and keeps them and your heart all for himself.

— Jelaous!Vere who drags your corpse to Kuras’ clinic and throws your innards at his window, your intestines decorating the building before he makes his escape.

Bonus

— Kuras who was waiting for your return, was reading one of his little mystery novels, when he was startled by a sudden noise from the window, seeing blood on the glass from the cracks of the curtains.

— Kuras who was well aware it had to be Vere since the little vermin loved leaving bruised and bloodied individuals from fights he won at his doorstep.

— Kuras who didn’t expect to see your broken body when he opens the door. Your torso is wide open, your ribs cracked, heart missing as well as your entrails. Your jaw is broken, and your pretty eyes are gone too.

— Broken!Kuras who feels something hit his head and when he looks up another hits his face, the liquid sliding down the side of his nose and to his cheek. It’s your blood.

— Broken!Kuras who comes out and sees the morbid decoration on his and your home, the sound around him becomes static and his golden eyes shining like hot, white fire and wet with unshed tears.

— Broken!Kuras who can smell Vere’s stench all over and knows what this message means: “We’re even.”

[glowyjellyfish]

I should be reading Animorphs currently, but my brain decided it was Discworld time instead.

I am enjoying the new audiobooks immensely, and inexplicably find myself fascinated over Rincewind; mostly it’s the lack of any late-book finale for him, and the part where I am convinced that he’s the son Esk was talking about.

Leading to me trying and failing repeatedly to write a fanfic about that. I have progressed from a simple “Rincewind, I’m your mother” style fic that I couldn’t figure out how to write, to a more interesting angle that’s working a little better for me—although I still wouldn’t say I know how to write it, I am not experienced at Discworld fanfic. The current attempt goes like “When pregnant, Esk tries to find out information about sourcerers so she can ensure her son won’t be one, and is directed to Rincewind. No, neither of them know, but he gives her some helpful speculation, and winds up giving her very detailed advice on How To Make a Kid Not Be a Wizard that inadvertently leads to his actual childhood happening, because of time travel. Yes, he based his advice on his personal life experience, and yes, he was upset and offended when the inquiry after said advice struck a major nerve for him, and he got annoyed with himself and gave it anyway while venting.” The fic barely exists yet, and I still don’t feel qualified to write Discworld fanfic. But I think a notable part of it will be that some random line from Rincewind will actually force Esk to essentially abandon him his whole life, because she can’t break causality and needs it to stay a perfect loop for whatever reason. Again, though, neither of them realize who they’re talking to during this conversation—Esk probably realizes it sometime during the process of setting her kid up to be as anti-sourcerer as possible; Rincewind never does unless she comes back to tell him later.

Idk. I just very badly wanted to read fanfics and theories about this, and found nothing. So I am forced to make my own.

[thatcheesyler]

Working on a lee!Striker, lers!Fizzarolli and Blitzø fic, so uh..lmk what you think so far 🫠

Just Clownin' Around (WIP)

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

Some say that singing a whole ‘fuck you’ song to your boss and then quitting your job while saying goodbye in a surprisingly good impression of your boss's accent might not be the best thing for one's mental health. But why should Fizzarolli care? He's thriving in Hell with his huge boyfriend and rekindled childhood friend, for fuck's sake.

Anyway, since the whole thing with Mammon, Fizzarolli had a bit of a thirst for more revenge gnawing at the back of his mind, thinking about all of his and Blitzø's shared enemies, and how much he'd like to see them bleed. Of course, when he told Blitzø about this vengeful fantasy of his, the other imp was more than enthused about getting some sweet, sweet payback. After all, Blitzø's company had been a bit short of the thrill of homicide lately, anyway.

So it was settled, the two imps would meet up at a bar and discuss the finer details.

-Lil’ time skip-

“Hmm…but which one do you think deserves to be hunted first? Striker, or Crimson?” Fizz asked, taking a sip from the straw in his glass of Beelzejuice. “Well, Crimson may be a bit off limits anyway, Mox probably wouldn't want his big daddy to get hurt unless it was by his doing.” Answered Blitzø, absentmindedly tracing one of his fingers along the cracks in the wooden bar counter top.

So that just left Striker…”But, that western cocksucker is most likely the only thing stopping Stella from killing Stolas herself. Plus, I promised Loony that I wouldn't kill anyone today because it’s her birthday.” He continued, going silent for a while, just in case Fizz was brainstorming and didn't want to be interrupted. And apparently, he was.

“..Wait, he's super self-confident. Which means, all we have to do is exploit a weakness that's embarrassing enough to catch him off guard, and threaten to blackmail him with it. Right?” It wasn't a terrible idea. But, what the hell kind of a weakness would have such an effect on a guy like Striker?

Contemplating his inquiry, Blitzø skimmed through his memories with Fizz, trying to pinpoint any specific events that involved embarrassing weaknesses that an imp would have..and wouldn't you know it, the murderous imp finally came up with a reasonable suggestion.

“Ey, Fizz, remember when we'd have those stupid dares where we'd take turns in watching each other perform, and then point out any flaws afterwards by..tickling the other person in a way that accommodates to those flaws?” Blitzø commented, smiling slightly at the fond memory, but a little flustered about the topic as he was usually the more flawed one when performing. Thankfully though, the other imp only really picked up on the main idea that he was putting down, a wry smirk now building up on his face at the thought of using this against Striker.

“It's perfect! We won't hurt Striker, but if we record him being humiliated like that, we could threaten him with the blackmail of posting the video!” Fizz replied cheerfully, slamming down a $10 bill on the counter before gripping Blitzø's arm and yanking him out of the bar. Fizz dragged him eagerly all the way down to the Wrath ring, ignoring the whiny protests that spewed from his friend's mouth like gunfire and instead focusing on tracking down Striker, while keeping his phone safe so that they can record the whole ordeal when it happens.

Sure enough, the two eventually stumbled into the weird cavern that Striker called his home, making sure to keep quiet as they leapt behind the nearest boulder. Breathing out groans of pain between whistling a casual tune, the cowboy in question was currently standing near the unrealistic statue of himself and cleaning up his burn wounds from when he tried (and failed) to kill Fizz.

“Hey, you think you can do that introduction thing that Robo Fizz did? It might be fun.” Blitzø whispered to his friend, who, in response, nodded and took a deep but silent breath.

“Hiya kids, it's me, the lovable Fizzarolli!” Fizz started, jumping up onto the boulder they were hiding behind and watching as his voice startled Striker a little.

“Say, would anyone here like to play a game with me?! It'll be so fun, I can guarantee it!” While the cowboy demon scowled and reached for his angelic gun, Blitzø shot a bullet of his own towards said gun, making it inaccessible as the two former clowns suddenly launched at him.

It took quite a hassle, but eventually they managed to pin Striker to the same part of the train tracks that Stolas had been restrained against a while ago. They then tied his arms down either side of his head with his own angelic rope, doing the same for his legs and tail. “You two fuckass clowns ain't gettin’ away with this. I will get my vengeance, just you little fellas wait..” Striker sneered, allowing a brief dark chuckle to sleep through his teeth afterwards. To which Fizz and Blitzø both looked at each other with unbothered expressions.

Setting up his phone on a nearby rock, Fizz pressed the ‘record’ button and began speaking like the whole thing was a vlog.

“Hey there, all you imps, sinners, overlords and deadly sins! Today, we have a very western guest with us. Say hi, Striker!” Fizz announced, moving out of the way so that the recording showed a clear view of the cowboy, bound helplessly to abandoned train tracks and frowning spitefully all the while.

“Go fuck yourself.” Was the only thing that Striker planned to say for most of this. Unfortunately, things never seem to go according to plan for him. “Only off camera. Now let's get down to business, shall we?” Blitzø responded, smiling along with the other clown imp.

“You're a selfish bitch that only cares about money. Understandable, however, fucking up my only ticket to the human world and then also trying to kill my friend, that's not as excusable. So, we're gonna return your ‘favour’ by humiliating you and then blackmailing you with the recording of it. Sound good? Good!”

Before Striker had gotten a chance to respond, Fizz had started talking again, reverting back to his show voice for this next part.

“Earlier I asked if you wanna play a game. And now, we're gonna play whether you like it or not! The game is called...’Don't Laugh’~!” Upon saying the name of the game, Fizz lifted his robot arms up to shoulder height and bent his fingers into claws, wiggling them simultaneously to give a hint as to what was about to happen, with a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time.

The cowboy tensed, it was subtle but it was noticed, now slightly struggling against his binds as the reality of this ‘game’ began to fully sink in. “Oh you gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me..” Striker murmured, feeling a few butterflies swarm in his stomach, something that had rarely ever occurred before. He despised the way the sensation affected him, making his body twitch in anticipation whenever someone made even the smallest movement, making him feel vulnerable, making him feel weak.

“Tch, and what kinda sick pleasure will it bring ya this time? Y'know, since everythin’ appears to be a sex thing with you two.” He remarked with a tiny smirk, clearly aiming to piss them off some more, despite his better judgment and the fact that it was just going to make everything worse for him.

Dammit, even those weird ass mini singing imps were here to watch.

His attention was yanked away, however, as Blitzø's hand then reached out towards him, and he tensed up once more, instinctively sucking his stomach in. But, the imp merely grabbed the cowboy's hat and placed it on his own head, earning a ‘seriously?’ look from both of the other demons, and an extra eye roll from Striker, who was getting fed up with this. But then Fizz's voice sounded out again, still speaking as if the whole thing was a scripted performance. “Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, it's time for the game to start! Alright cowboy, are you ready?!”

“Listen, I don’ know what you jester twinks are plannin’ to accomplish with this, but I can assure ya, you ain’t gon’ pull a stunt like this again once I get my reve-HENGE!!” Striker's threat was abruptly cut off by the overwhelming sensation of a robotic hand squeezing his side experimentally, his voice raising up to a slightly embarrassing high pitched tone as this happened.

The cowboy attempted to recover by clearing his throat and forcing back the anticipatory nervous smile, refusing to let his captors feel like they were winning. Said captors, however, now adorned ear-splitting smirks that caused the butterflies in Striker's stomach to temporarily double, a few more harsh tugs being acted out on the angelic restraints. “I said ‘are you ready?’, not ‘bore us with monologue’. But still, at least people on Sinstagram will enjoy the bickering. But seriously, don't laugh!” Fizz replied smugly, refocusing his attention on the imp's outfit.

There were a few scorch marks on his shirt that didn't burn through the fabric, so of course, Fizz decided to fuck around a bit and trace ever so gently over those marks, relishing in the way it made Striker flinch and gasp quietly. Yet, his resolve held true, the scowl on the cowboy's face didn't budge, but not did the angelic rope, unfortunately for him.

“Alright it's my turn, move over bitch!” Blitzø demanded, playfully shoving his friend out of the way and cracking his knuckles, before starting to spider his fingers along Striker's sides. This time, it resulted in a wobbly grin showing through for just over a millisecond, the ticklish sensation making Striker wriggle away from the pursuing hands with a bit of desperation.

[realtidepod]

i want to hear about the dirkjohn mpreg. how long does dirk wait before telling john. whats their relationship like before and after the mpreg. what dumbfuck name do they give their baby

HEEEELLLOOOOO ANON!!!! i am oh so happy about your inquiry. inquirIES even. (hella long post incoming)

this is such a fun and also unreasonably hard collection of questions to answer because we have like……. so so so many different dirkjohns we play around with like little barbie dolls in our spare time that its difficult to pick just ONE set of them to talk abt. ESPECIALLY when it comes to mpreg cause its literally like we have a dirkjohn that has this kid, a dirkjohn that has THIS kid, and a dirkjohn that has that kid!

id love to talk about All of them in This Post but 1 oh my god that would take forever and 2 i would definitely remember something wrong and that would haunt me FOR….. EVER…. so i think just for easiness sake (and my own) i will just go with dear sweet little casey for now because i know we have DEFINITELY given her the most love and attention compared to the others . unintentionally i swear. we just love her a lot <3

i guess with all that being said im accidentally going backwards in answering these LMAO the dumbfuck name they give their baby is actually somehow not THAT dumbfuck of name to give a baby at all as it turns out! maybe thats just because we dont really love giving dirkjohn kids these Really Out There names to be honest. we see that as more of a jakedavekat thing than a dirkjohn thing. dirkjohn are Serious about this baby thing. and believe me. that baby. Is a Thing.

as for their relationship BEFORE the mpreg… well…… theyer in looooovvveeee. la dee dee la dee da they are just . so happy. so happy and so in love. a typical day for them is literally wake up, cuddle, kiss, eventually get up and john makes them coffee and then breakfast. they eat and john reads the fuckin NEWSPAPER of all things after while dirk does the dishes <3 and THEN they watch tv.they watch tv for a whiiiiile until either Fuck Nothing is on or they remember heeeey. they have errands or chores to do. errands is an always john thing or an always do together thing, but never JUST a dirk thing. he does not like going to places by himself and john Obviously isnt going to make him. chores however are anyones game, but they do have a system of who does what like each week or each day because thats GROSS and theyre in LOVE. have i said that theyre in love yet btw i think i have!!!!!!!!!!!!!

after that its the evening time Free For All where they could get into Anything before its time for dinner. on MOST days this time is just hobby time for both of them really. dirk works on some little something in the garage, john looks up more recipes to try, they fuck, then they have dinner! it’s great! after they get ready for bed they either watch a little more tv before hitting the hay, or john reads a book with dirk cuddled up next to him for a little. thats very important. very important, and very mundane. in a good way of course.

john really thrives off of mundane i think, and dirk does too, albeit in his own slightly different dirk way. routine is good for them, and it can be pretty tough when that routine is poof. down the shitter and well . its really needless to say that said their routine goes a Biiiiit fucking haywire when they find out the reason dirks been throwing up and just generally Feeling like Shit is because he is somehow Pregnant.

-

ok hi its Pod on the mic (the other one) to answer the last question because Tide is honk shooooo ok ANYWAY. thank you for the ask anon <3. to answer the last question!! the After mpreg. it’s worth noting that this is the work of ult dirk, so, do what you will with that information. that’s a whole other can of worms that is worthy of its own post (or like 100k+ word fic that will probably be perpetually in the works, but you didn’t hear that from me)

during The Mpreg dirk’s pretty stressed and confused because why is this happening. he has a whole dick and balls. but as they say. things will Always Keep Happening. john kinda stops questioning the how after a while and tries to have a more positive outlook on it, which soothes dirks mind a little but goddamn it is a Rough pregnancy for him. he goes through it and john is supporting him 110%, and even makes sure to keep it on the downlow among their friends since dirk Really doesn’t want anyone to see him while he’s sick almost every other day.

once their little Thing is born they go with the excuse of ectobiology, and let me tell you it was Very difficult to hide for the last few months.

as mentioned dirk was really anxious, specifically about being a parent in general, but luckily for him john was and is more than supportive about assuring him he is and that just because some version of him wasn’t a good one doesn’t mean he, himself, in this current time, doesn’t have any potential to be. it eased dirks mind a little, but it didn’t really set in until he was holding her in his arms. kind of like an instant familial switch flipped on in his brain. to “lock in” (sorry never using this terminology again i’m too old for that)

they have a girl! her name is casey. yes, after the girl from con air. yes, after the salamander. it was difficult for them to come to an agreement on the name, especially with john’s connection to it, having lost casey the salamander due to health complications years prior. in a way it was john coming to terms with his grief, even if it’s a little selfish, but despite the sad memories it reminds him of what it was like when he was a caregiver alongside dirk. plus he just likes the name casey. at the bottom of this post we have a sprite and doodle of her <3

they are very happy with their little family of 3, still have no idea how it happened, but are very glad it happened

if you know what her shirt symbol is a reference to (hint hint loading screen of a 2004 video game) you are officially vip member of the blog realtidepod where you get absolutely nothing except SUPER COOL GUY status. thank you for the ask anon, sorry for the lengthy reply lmao, we love dirkjohn a lot <3

[bernardellinewsagency]

Alright, I'm at ~5k words for this explicit Gallagher/Sunday fic, the "important stuff" still hasn't even happened yet, and I'm probably going to pretty easily reach at least 7-8k words by the time I'm done with this chapter. And I'm looking at making this a six chapter story and not just a oneshot so that could be, what, ~42-48k words in total if I keep at this pace? Maybe I should just make it a oneshot, but fuck it, I'm gonna post a preview of it to try and inspire myself to make it as long as my gay little heart desires.

It doesn't really have a title though. I've just been calling it the dreamjolt au. Or more appropriately, the "what if the Dreamjolt Hostelry is a queer kink club in a modern au" au. I mean, that does give pretty much most of what you'd need to know about it, so...

Anyways, hiding my ramblings about details under the cut, as well as the preview cause I thought I had picked a short snippet that I could use to try and showcase the story and my writing and all that good stuff. Nope. It's a thousand words. What the hell.

Gallagher is, of course, still a bartender within this au. I originally came up with the au, then I had the idea of a six chapter story where all the chapters are named after his eidolons since those are all cocktail names, wherein the plot would primarily focus on interactions between him and Sunday and conversations they'd have while he'd serve Sunday various drinks, which would be the cocktails from the chapter titles. Then I thought hey, what if I combined these, and now I'm looking at pushing myself to not just abandon this story halfway through. The things I do for the sake of hot yet emotional and character driven Galladay fics...

Sunday, of course, is the son of a megachurch leader. Because I thought about it, and realized that oh yeah, Gopher Wood probably would just be a weird megachurch leader who's really more like a cult leader but shh, no one needs to know about that. So, you know, he's a bit fucked up because of that sort of upbringing, but honestly he might be chiller than his canonical self. He's really fun to write though, it's always interesting to try and get into character as him so that his dialogue sounds just like him.

Other details include: Siobhan as the club's owner and lifelong friend of Gallagher's, Mikhail as Gallagher's previous partner before he passed away, Gallagher raising Mikhail's son Misha, and the Astral Express crew and other HSR characters who will eventually be making appearances. So far, only March has, because I desperately needed to include her being the biggest lesbian of all time.

OKAY ONTO THE PREVIEW:

As he’s busy thinking of how to approach the younger man, the situation is taken from his hands by the very target he’s looking for. “Can I help you?” he calls from afar, while Gallagher is still a few tables away from where he’s seated.

Damn, he’s perceptive. His eyes take on a certain soul piercing quality as he gets closer; a shocking gold color that would freeze a lesser man in place, at least until they realized it’s mostly only because of how the light is reflecting. “Yeah, actually, you can,” Gallagher replies once he’s closer and won’t have to raise his voice so much to be heard. “Is this chair taken?”

He can tell what Sunday is thinking of, as those gorgeous eyes rake up and down his figure. He knows that the two of them must seem like polar opposites, he’s never cared about keeping his work clothes presentable while the preacher’s son looks like he’s never had even a hair out of place. His inquiry is met with a raised eyebrow, but Sunday shakes his head after just a moment more. “No, no, go ahead and take it.”

“Great!”

When Sunday shifts to glare at him, he can see that his eyes are more brown than gold, but no less alluring. “Apologies, I assumed you would be taking the chair itself, not sitting down here.”

“Sorry. You’re not waiting for anyone, are ya?” Of course he wouldn’t be, Siobhan definitely didn’t describe the man as the type to be meeting anyone here. “Just wanted to try and talk to one of the most handsome looking men here, nothing more to it if you don’t want there to be.” If Sunday is surprised by what he’s saying at all, he doesn’t show it, just like how he doesn’t immediately shake Gallagher’s hand when he sticks it out. “Gallagher, nice to meet you.”

“Sunday,” comes the eventual reply, stunning Gallagher with the use of his real first name. He doesn’t shake Gallagher’s hand though, leaving him to awkwardly retract it. “You work here, yes?”

It’s a pretty stilted attempt at starting up a conversation, and it sounds like a script to social interaction long since memorized with the way that Sunday says it. Gallagher can picture how those captivating eyes would look reading through a long article on how to converse with someone you wish would go away. He doesn’t go away though, just humors the question. “Bartender, security, whatever the boss lady needs me to do for the night. Not the most cushy job, but it helps to pay the bills.”

“Which is this?” Sunday then asks, confusing Gallagher into silence as he waits for an explanation. “If this is ‘bartending’, then this is just a friendly chat with a patron. Or, are you chatting with me merely as a guise for ‘security’?”

“What the fuck? That’s some weird fucking logic, you know that, right?” He has to resist the urge to laugh. Everything about the situation seems hilarious to him now, right down to whatever the hell Sunday is saying. “Most patrons just talk ‘bout what scenes they want to try, not play mind games or whatever you’re up to.”

Sunday takes a sip from his glass of water, his face remarkably impassive throughout. “I don’t think this is any sort of mind game, Mister Gallagher. I saw you speaking with your boss while looking right at me, and then you came over and attempted to strike up a casual conversation. Perhaps you’re no different than the patrons of this establishment, interested in a pretty face, or perhaps there was no reason for me to introduce myself as all, seeing as you may have already known my name.”

“And if I did?”

Something in Sunday changes, hearing that. His posture slumps, losing some of its rigidity as he visibly frowns for once. “Then I would say that I don’t wish to indulge any questions you may have, so you may as well ask them directly, the response would be the same as if you tried to ask them in some roundabout manner.”

“And what if I really did just come over here ‘cause I wanted you to indulge me in something else?”

Sunday’s posture is back to rigid and ramrod straight, though this time it seems to be because he’s shocked. “Elaborate?” he asks, hisses more like, teeth clenched so tight it’s gotta hurt. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked like that. Actually, Gallagher thinks, it’s likely he’d be met with hostility no matter how he asked.

Leaning back in his seat, he resists the urge to smirk at how out of his depth the younger man looks. “It’s true, I knew your name before I came over here, and yeah, I am pretty curious ‘bout why you, of all people, are frequenting the Dreamjolt. I also ain’t much better than the other patrons here, and I’m definitely interested in a certain pretty face. And if it’s any benefit, I know better than most of the patrons than to ask questions you don’t wanna answer.”

He watches as Sunday worries a lip between his teeth, biting at chapped skin. “You’re…” he trails off, but he relaxes a few scant degrees as he takes in the situation.

“Propositioning you?” Gallagher fills in the blank for him. “Yup. You do know how the Dreamjolt works and what people usually do here, right?”

“I- Of course I do!” Sunday scoffs at him, but it also gets him to slightly grin, the sight of which counts as a win in Gallagher’s books. “I didn’t just blindly pick this place to come to, I’ll have you know.” 

Gallagher thinks for a moment of asking why he picked the Dreamjolt of all places before deciding against it. He won’t press his luck asking questions that Sunday doesn’t want to answer. Maybe he’ll get him to open up in his own time, but certainly not tonight. “So you are aware, that’s good. Look, I dunno your taste or type, but if it changes anything, I’ve been doing this for a long time. While I wouldn’t really call myself professional, if you’re ever looking to spend a night here not just sittin’ all alone, I’d be honored to offer my, uh, services to someone as good looking as you.”

Sunday flushes, yet the way his brows furrow sends rather mixed messages. “Do you really think I need such… company, in my life?” he eventually says.

If it sounds that much like a deflection, that’s probably what it is. Gallagher tries to take it in stride; he did come into this talk thinking that it might take a bit of work, and it’s still at least easier than trying to talk some sense into drunks like he can faintly hear Siobhan trying to accomplish. “Honestly? Yeah. You’ve got this look about you, one that I’ve seen on too many good men deep in their own struggles. And you’re intriguing, what can I say? If I could possibly help ya out, then I’d like to be able to do so.”

ANDDDDDD that is where I'll cut myself off. Not really sure how to end this, but feel free to let me know what you think, and if anyone might be interested in being like, a beta reader or anything, uh, that'd be really cool! Never had one of those before but I'm open to new experiences :)

[felixcloud6288]

Dungeon Meshi Miscellaneous Monster Tales 9

Barometz

Ryoko Kui has been getting as much content out of the barometz as possible.

Mithrun never actually answers whether or not a barometz is a monster. Instead he talks about arguments about it being an animal or plant.

What Mithrun says about the fruit quickly rotting when cut from the stalk makes it clear that the sheep is not the main body. It's like the whole "The snake is the main body because it survives longer than the chicken" thing with basilisks.

And there are plants in real life that mimic animals for their own purposes. Bee orchids look like bees to trick drone bees into pollinating them. And I'd say plants like raflessias count as well; they mimic the look and smell of decaying meat to attract flies to pollinate them.

Barometz is just an extreme version of the concept and uses mimicry to attract carnivores into spreading its seeds.

The really important question is whether or not it's a monster, and if so, what classifies it as one. Barometz is entirely harmless on its own. The only threat was that it happened to attract direwolves to it.

"Monster" seems to be the collective term for anything that needs a mana-rich environment to survive. But then that definition opens the door to "At what point do we say an environment is mana-rich?"

It's the exact same issue that comes from using arbitrary cutoffs to define species or certain genetic traits. We all know what a fish is, but there's actually no way to define a fish genetically that covers all the things we call fish but doesn't include anything we wouldn't call a fish.

Kabru is opting for a simple definition of monster. If he's willing to eat it, then it is not a monster.

Dullahan

We never learned anything about what the Dullahan was and we still didn't learn anything about it.

All we find out is that the Dullahan attacked Laios because Mithrun had killed its horse.

It actually seems to be a fairly benign creature. It was willing to leave Laios alone when he offered the bicorn to it, and it seemed to approach Mithrun and Kabru's camp out of curiosity more than anything.

If it could talk, I bet the Dullahan would have welcomed Mithrun to the neighborhood and told him how exciting it was to meet new people and ask him if he was going to stay long.

And then Mithrun would have teleported it off the cliff anyway.

And this also implies that Kabru and Mithrun somehow got to the Dwarf city either before or at the same time as Laios's party.

Succubus

Chilchuck's daughter got her freckles from him.

Some of the succubi who fought Izutsumi targeted her beast soul so succubi should be able to feed on non-humans. So succubus hunters should be able to feed the succubi by bringing something like a horse or other large animals with them.

EXCEPT they'd have to pay money or capture the animals. But if they convince some inexperienced adventurer to join them with the promise of pay on completion of the job and then they kill the newbie, then they won't have to pay anything at all.

I wouldn't be surprised if stuff like that happens often. The dungeon attracts the worst kinds of scum. The Adventurer's guild ought to have a inquiry division that investigates disappearances to determine if anyone is doing stuff like this. It probably knows that some adventurers are killing other adventurers to avoid paying them but doesn't care because those adventurers pay it to not investigate.

Now we know the context behind what Mikbell mentioned about Chilchuck in chapter 32. Turns out Mikbell is a scab.

I can imagine Laios being into werewolf fics, but I wouldn't have guessed Marcille might be into vampire fics.

I can't find a confirming source, but I want to say that the tickling and itching sensations are supposed to clue us in to something crawling on you.

Mosquitos are not precise when they try to suck your blood. They might have to spend several seconds running their proboscis through your skin until they find a capillary, hence why their saliva numbs the nerves. If it didn't, they would likely be noticed before they can actually feed.

The post-bite itch is more like the sensations hitting you all at once plus the inflammation caused by the wound and bacteria entering the bite.

back

[vivitalks]

like a burst of technicolor in a world of black and white

for the prompt "painting nails" on my @jasico-challenges bingo card. guys i am really having fun with this bingo thing have yall heard about this. this shit rules anyway imagine an AU where trials of apollo is a collective hallucination we all experienced and then decided never to speak of again. and instead jason stayed at CHB after the showdown w gaea. okay you are now prepared for the events of this fic xoxo

title from extraordinary magic by ben rector :) read here on ao3

“How come you didn't go to school?”

Fair question, but pretty random.

They're spread out on the floor of Cabin One. When Nico marched in armed with a bottle of nail polish the color of a cloudless sky and insisted on painting Jason's nails, Jason tossed his sketchbook aside. Any activity with Nico is better than drawing shrines alone. 

Nico got to work and they descended into easy silence. Jason figured that was for Nico's focus, so he didn't break it, just allowed his mind to wander aimlessly.

When he tunes back in at Nico's inquiry, he sees two nails painted — left index and middle, coated in light blue. Jason has never had his nails painted. He doesn't know if it's always this soothing, but if it is, he can understand why so many people do it.

“You mean instead of staying at camp year-round?”

Nico nods and takes the brush to Jason's next finger. His face of concentration is extremely cute: narrowed eyes, teeth digging into his lower lip, one rebellious strand of dark hair he keeps blowing out of his face only for it to fall right back in his eyes.

“You could have,” he says. “You’d only have two years before graduation. Could get a diploma.”

Jason shrugs. “Yeah, but why would I? It’s not like I was getting a formal education before. Praetor was a year-round job.”

Nico hums. He's really very good at this. If the demigod thing doesn't pan out, he has a future as a manicurist.

“Plus,” Jason adds gamely, “I don't exactly have a parent or guardian to enroll me anywhere.”

“I'm sure Chiron would be more than happy to falsify some legal documents.”

Jason chuckles. “You think so?”

“Are you kidding?” Nico snorts. “Percy told me Chiron posed as his Latin teacher for a full year when he was younger. He would love to invent a transcript for you.”

Jason gives this a dismissive laugh so they can put the topic to rest. He thought about trying to go to school, for sure. He spent about six minutes seriously considering it. I could have some normalcy, he'd mused. Be a high school kid. Sure, I don't have any surviving mortal parents, or anywhere to live during the school year, or any money, or any previous course credits, or any documents to prove I'm a real person, but. Those are solvable problems.

Then he’d thought, Or I could stay at camp, and the decision made itself.

Maybe it's bleak to say, but there's nothing for him out there. In the real world. He has no memory of being a baby living with Thalia and his mother, and after that, his whole life was the legion. Training with Lupa was the closest thing Jason had to elementary school. Everything that matters to him — his friends, his family, his sworn duty to the minor gods — starts and ends in camp. His youth is tattooed with the brand of Camp Jupiter. His freedom is a leather necklace tied by Camp Half-Blood.

Why leave?

“I'm good here,” is all he says.

Nico isn't ready to drop it. “But then why stay here? You didn't want to go back to Camp Jupiter?”

Jason raises both eyebrows. “Did you want me to?”

“No!” Nico scowls. “I'm just curious.”

Methodical brush strokes turn Jason's fourth fingernail blue. It's a pretty color; Jason wonders what inspired Nico to choose it. It's probably not Nico's first time painting someone's nails, because he's very skillfully managing not to get any polish on Jason's skin. He has good hands for the job — thin and precise. Careful. Deliberate.

“The plan was really to split my time,” Jason says, just as careful, just as deliberate. “I was already at Camp Half-Blood, so I figured I'd spend a little while here, then a while at Camp Jupiter, and, you know, so on.”

“But…it's been two months,” Nico says.

The unspoken question: why haven't you gone back yet?

“Well, yeah,” Jason says. His own stillness is becoming uncomfortable. If he moves, he risks ruining Nico's artwork, but sitting this stationary isn't in his nature. Like most demigods, he has a compulsion to fidget. It's less noticeable in him — less than, say, Leo — but in moments of extreme stagnancy, it doubles down.

“Are you planning to go back at all?”

It's not an interrogation. At least, Jason doesn't think so. It's not small talk, either. Nico is his friend. This is a friendly conversation. There are no wrong answers here.

“Eventually,” Jason says. “To visit. But…to stay?” He shakes his head. “I don't think so.”

“All your friends are there,” Nico says, and he's still looking down, focused on his task, like this statement is a reflex, requiring no thought.

“Not all,” Jason says, watching him. “You're here.”

That gets Nico’s attention. He looks up. “Me?”

“You're my friend,” Jason says.

“Don't tell me you stayed here just for me.” It comes out like a bad joke. Like it couldn't possibly be true.

“Well…” Jason pauses. “I don't know if that's the only reason, but it definitely helped.”

“What? Are you joking?”

“Why would I be joking?”

“Because that's—” Nico stops halfway through painting Jason’s little finger. He gestures like words aren't enough. “That's crazy!”

“You just said I should go to Camp Jupiter because my friends are there,” Jason says, puzzled. “Why is it crazy to stay at Camp Half-Blood for the same reason?”

“I’m one person. Friend, singular. Meanwhile your entire cohort of friends is over in California.”

“Yeah, but…” Jason gnaws his cheek. He has this suspicion Nico won't like any of his answers, then decides he doesn't care. “They don't need me over there. I gave my praetorship to Frank, so I'm officially released from leadership duty, and I don't regret it for a second. It makes no difference to the legion if I'm there or not, except as this— I don't know, symbol of greatness that I…really am not.” He grimaces, examining his semi-painted pinky nail, this half-finished, imperfect thing. “Here, I feel like…maybe it matters if I'm here or not. And not because of who my dad is or my rank or anything, just because…well, we're friends.”

Nico stares. Then he lifts Jason's hand and starts painting again, picking up where he left off. With his gaze trained downward, away from Jason's, he says, “It does matter. To me.”

Jason smiles. He gets the same feeling as stepping outside in the morning into perfect weather — pleasantly, comfortably surprised.

“There you go, then,” he says. “I mean, if you want me to leave—”

“No,” Nico says quickly, then glares as if he's mad about being tricked into admitting he wants Jason to stay. Recovering, he snarks, “If you leave, I won’t have anyone to subject to my nail-polish schemes.”

“I bet Will would let you paint his nails.”

“Will wouldn't let me anywhere near him with any kind of artistic implement, as well he shouldn’t. I would absolutely deface him.”

“Honored that you've elected not to deface me.”

Nico turns a rosy shade of pink. “This time.”

This is that other kind of Nico threat, the kind reserved for friends. For Jason. The kind that, underneath, isn't a threat at all, but a promise.

This time means there will be a next time. That's Jason's favorite kind of threat.

“You're weirdly good at this,” Jason says. Nico has finished his left hand by now and moved on to the right. “Since when is this in your skill set?”

“Bianca,” Nico says. Matter-of-fact, without room to grieve. “A couple nights when we were in the Lotus Hotel, she asked me to paint hers. First time I tried, it was such a mess. She did mine to show me how, so I could learn.”

Jason catches his breath. “Clearly it paid off, ‘cause you're killing it.”

This was something Nico did with Bianca. And now he's sharing it with Jason. That gives Jason a feeling in his gut that's both warm and heavy, like a big dog is curled up in there, taking a sunbeam nap.

“You'll have to do mine after,” Nico says, still no-nonsense. “Black, obviously.”

“I don't have any nail polish.”

“I brought some. Lacy gave it to me. From Cabin Ten. Magical, so it doesn't smudge or chip.”

“I didn't even realize nail polish did that.”

“You have a lot to learn.” Nico nods sagely. “That's okay. Everyone starts somewhere.”

“It is very relaxing. I can see the appeal,” Jason admits. He wiggles the fingers of his finished hand, admiring them. “How’d you land on this color, though? Or was it just a random pick?”

 Nico looks strangely at Jason. Some of that blush from earlier returns. “You're…the son of the sky god.”

Jason studies the color. It's not quite sky blue, but close enough. “Huh,” he says, feeling silly for not having made the connection. “I suppose that makes sense.”

“Besides,” Nico says, a little quieter like it's not exactly for Jason to hear, but not not for him to hear, either, “it's the color of your eyes.”

That sleeping dog behind Jason's navel starts thumping its tail.

“Oh,” Jason says. He's not sure he could confirm that, but Nico sounds utterly certain. The fact that Nico has spent enough time looking at Jason's eyes that he can pinpoint their exact shade is its own can of worms. For future opening. At a later date. “Well, I like it. It's pretty.”

“Yeah,” Nico says, and his fingers press gently into Jason's palm as he continues to paint. “It is.”

[mywritingonlyfans]

can you give us a spoiler about the smut part? 😼

I didn't answer you because I felt bad for not knowing how to answer 😅 I'm not going to do that because it's not a long fic and I think it will end up losing its effect if I post it before, idk, it makes sense to me, and no I didn't finish it yet 😭but anyway, I'm posting the beginning of it, but it's before the smut, I don't think I'll cheer you up much 😔

And using you as a vent (I still don't know how people wait for teacher's pet because I'm a mess but thank you), I'm a little tired of writing the same thing for a long time and I'll probably try to write some fluff and post it in the middle of these parts of fics that I have to post... besides, I don't think I'll be able to finish this one over the weekend because I have a test on Monday 😪 (I tried to make an effort to write but it's being very difficult to keep my attention; and at the exact moment my head isn't very excited about smut itself, unfortunately it was clear at the beginning of the fic as you can read lol; but I'll try to post it over the week). I feel like I shouldn't feel sorry about this but I kind of do, it's just that life hasn't been that kind recently.

"Hey, Mr. Turner," your tongue curled at the pronunciation and a smile stretched your lips.

He shifted his focus away from the book, placing it aside, and then his gaze landed on you. The knee-high stockings perfectly intact on your legs, well above the knees, and the button-up shirt with thicker collars and edges covering your body; you were and looked beautiful, despite the tired expression.

Without insisting on taking one last drag, he promptly disposed of the cigarette, hating the idea of affecting you with it. Judging by the appearance of the lit cigarette between his fingers, he had just ignited it, yet he didn't hesitate to discard it. You didn't consider it necessary, but you couldn't deny that you found it to be a sweet gesture on his part; which you had already been used to by now.

"Tired, little one?" He said softly, in tune with the starry night on the balcony. His hand was both firm and gentle on you, his fingertips comfortable through the fabric of the socks, while your arms held him tightly against your body.

Your face was nestled in his neck, the comforting and familiar scent already so well known. You raised your head just enough for him to look into your eyes, his faint smile leaving you slightly breathless. Reluctant to untangle from his warmth, you continued, "When are you goin' to bed? I don't want to fall asleep without you. I was thinking of waiting for you." You were cautious, your inquiry devoid of any emotion except tenderness. You knew he was finishing up something important for one of his upcoming classes, but it was already very late.

"You're going to wait for me?" He raised an eyebrow, the cute wrinkle right there, studying you nestled against his chest. " 'ere?" He chuckled, the vibration that filled his body making you feel even more at home.

The fact that both of you knew he wouldn't return to that task was fun. And Alex didn't feel bad about it. He liked having you there, enjoyed the idealization that you had been tossing and turning for the past few hours, hands between your thighs, almost sewing holes into your socks, unable to sleep, until you came to him with your silly smile and timid steps. It was 3 am, he was the one who was wrong.

He held your chin firmly, his nose brushing against yours, his tousled hair grazing your forehead, and then he kissed you, in the same gentle and lingering way as the night. You moaned into his lips, slowly pulling away and realizing how breathless you were as he looked at you with his eyes full of sleep and his face all red, you wanted to bite him all over. As if he could read your mind, he nibbled on your cheekbone, laughing lightly at your reaction until he went to your neck and rubbed his growing beard there. Your mind, which didn't have many thoughts due to tiredness, emptied as the tip of his nose dipped into you in a silent sigh as he ripped the air out of your lungs in a rigorous bite.

[milfbrainrot]

14, 17, 32 ! 💜❤️

Ty friend! Questions from here.

14) What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

I think comments!! Fandom for me is more about connection rather than content, so while I do appreciate any indication that someone likes what I made… it is nicer to get to actually exchange thoughts on it. That said, anything makes me so happy as someone in teensy fandoms because someone even coming across the fic who knows what it's about is a miracle. And I myself need to get better at commenting, too.

I do find that as someone who really only ever does oneshots… I've never gotten unprompted tumblr asks about specific stories? And I think it is more common for writers who do big sweeping multichapters to get those inquiries because they're writing something people have questions about and are keeping up with them for. It makes me wish I had it in me to write longer stuff, but with the abysmal lack of interaction in fandom these days it probably isn't even worth it anymore.

17) What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

Honestly just letting myself write and post something imperfect! I haven’t done fic in so long because I used to hold myself to such a tightly wound standard where I had to totally understand the character/ship/canon before officially posting anything rather than… learning as I write and posting anyway? Or I'd have to over-edit so every word had a purpose to the point that it probably ruined the fic jklsdf;lsdjf.

But I don’t have the time to really take it THAT seriously anymore if I want to start or finish things these days so it was nice to finally post a fic for the first time in a while the other day that was Just Kinda Okay. I still had to justify its existence by it being for a prompt thing, but it's a step in the right direction.

32) A character you enjoy making suffer.

I really need to start writing stuff for The Orville so I can do this in writing rather than in my thoughts, but Teleya <3 My silly little emotional punching bag <3

[stace-piiilgrim]

Hello!!!!!

I have absolutely no idea what to put here but if it wasn’t obvious Its me! Scott’s OLDER sister.

I heard he has a blog on here so I thought that I’d make one myself just so I can easily know what his dumbass is up to on the internet.

Anyways PLEASE send me asks about what he’s doing. I do have Wallace but he can only tell me so much and I NEED to know everything. Also send me info on what everyone else is up to. I don’t want to hear just stuff about Scott that would get boring after awhile and I hear enough boring stuff in my uni lectures.

You can also ask stuff about me, I won’t mind.

Anyways Julie’s yelling at me cause I went past my 15 so yeah, send me stuff!

———————————

OOC: this is a RP blog so asks are always open. Also please don’t be weird, creepy, or rude*. I’m a real person and I’m here to just goof around. I’m also using this to help me figure out Stacey’s character more so I can write fics for her since Stacey content is lacking here and she’s my favourite so yeah!

Oh I probably should have added this sooner but I also have a Young Neil rp blog @yung-neilz. Send inquiries about the Neil Stacey talks about there please and thank you!

No ship stuff!!! Sorry but I don’t feel comfortable doing it with other people. While I’m 18, I want to keep myself safe and comfortable. Platonic interactions are what I do best :]

If you see me do ship stuff, that’s cause it’s me on the other side. I made the neil blog I mentioned earlier for a reason.

*Please don’t be bigoted in anyway (transphobic, homophobic, racist, ETC). This is a safe space and I do not condone anything of the sort. Don’t send NSFW asks either as they will make me uncomfortable.

Also if you want to be a specific anon emoji, I’ll add all the taken emojis here (was inspired by the knives RP blog to do this). This post will be edited every time an emoji gets taken.

———————————

Taken emojis: 🦑🐢✨🏮🐇🛋

[yes-i-am-happyaspie]

For a Friend by happyaspie

Part 18 of Sicktember 2021-2023

@sicktember 2023 fic 3/10 for me!

No Archive Warnings Apply || Rated T || Chapters 1/2 || Peter Parker & Tony Stark & Bucky Barnes, Common cold, Sick Bucky Barnes

Summary: Peter finds out Bucky is sick and spends his weekend at the Tower balancing between spending time with Tony and making sure his friend is taking care of himself. When it’s time for Peter to go home, he asks Tony to keep looking after Bucky. Reluctantly, Tony agrees.

Sicktember 2023 Prompts

7. “You’re a Jerk When You’re Sick”

14. ‘‘I shouldn’t be worried about you, but for some reason, I am’’

23. Coughing Fit

[Exceprt under the cut]

It was a Friday afternoon, and Peter had just arrived at the tower. Typically he would go straight to the lab to seek out his mentor. But just because he was done with school for the day, didn’t mean Tony was done with work. Unfortunately, Pepper had scheduled several meetings that would run late into the afternoon. Fortunately, there were a handful of other people around to spend time with while he waited for the work week to end.

“Hey FRIDAY? Who’s in the building right now?” Peter asked once he’d dropped his bag off on the penthouse floor. “I mean like Avengers-wise. Anyone?”

There was a momentary pause before the AI spoke. “The only Avengers currently in the building are The Boss and James Barnes,” she said. 

“Mr. Bucky’s here?” Peter excitedly inquired. Talking to Steve and Bucky about everything past, present and future was one of his favorite things. Which brought on his next question. “What about Mr. Steve?”

“Steve Rogers has been on a recon mission in Lithuania with Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff for the last two days. A return date has not been established.”

“Oh,” Peter replied in mild surprise. Bucky liked keeping mostly to himself. There were very few people he would actually sit down and converse with. As such, he’d naturally assumed that wherever Steve went Bucky went too. Then again he supposed they couldn’t be together all the time. ”I guess I’ll go see Mr. Bucky then. He’s probably lonely anyway,” he announced, eager to spend some rare one one-on-one time with Bucky. With any luck he could finally hear some of the stories Steve was always stopping him from sharing. “Thanks, FRI!”

Peter scurried off to the lower levels of the tower. He started on the common floor but found it empty. From there he headed towards Bucky’s living quarters and knocked on the door. There was no answer at first, so he knocked again. The door finally cracked open but the gap was barely a sliver. All he could see was one of Bucky’s deep blue eyes peering down at him.

“What do you want, Kid?” Bucky said in lieu of a greeting.

Peter smiled and waved. “FRIDAY said Mr. Steve was on a mission," he said. “And since Mr. Stark is busy, I thought I’d come down here and see if you wanted to hang out.”

“Now’s not a good time,” Bucky replied, followed by several harsh coughs.

Peter tilted his head in concern while waiting for the coughing fit to end. “Are you sick?” he asked. The only reply he received was a semi-coherent grunt in the positive. Peter smiled again and offered, “I could keep you company.”

“No offense kid,” Bucky replied, his voice deeper and more gravelly than usual. “But I feel like crap and there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m not sure I’m in the mood for company. Go harass Stark.”

“I can’t,” Peter shrugged. “Mr. Stark has meetings and Pepper would probably kill me if I tried convincing him to skip them. That’s why I came down here to visit with you.”

As Bucky sighed, Peter belatedly processed the entirety of Bucky’s explanation. “Wait,” he abruptly stated. “What do you mean there’s nothing you can do about it? Is there anything I can do to help?” His inquiry was met with silence.

A few ticks later, Bucky said, “You’re not going to go away, are you.” It was a statement, not a question. Peter shrugged his shoulders. A moment later the door was opened, and Peter immediately went through it.

[Continue reading on AO3]

[fluffwriting]

A snippet from an as of yet untitled X-Men/Spider-Man crossover thing I am working on. With an OC I am developing, long story short who is the son of Emma Frost from another universe, yeah it's a long story. Anyway, this probably won't be in the main fic, so think of it like a teaser with a bit of background for my OC Jasper.

The rain fell in sleek, silver sheets against the panoramic windows of the Geneva penthouse. Inside, the only sounds were the soft hum of encrypted servers and the whisper of Emma Frost’s fingertips across a holographic interface. She was in White Queen mode: focused, cold, and methodically piecing together the shattered remnants of their nation.

Jasper had been standing in the doorway for a full minute before she acknowledged him.

“If you require something, Jasper, you need only ask,” she said, her eyes still locked on a stream of data. “I’m in the middle of tracking a missing transport of Krakoan medicines.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. He walked further into the room. The sterile, opulent space felt like every other gilded cage he’d ever lived in. “I need to talk to you.”

Emma sighed, a barely audible sound of impatience. She swiped a hand, and the holograms vanished, leaving the room in a somber twilight. She turned in her chair, her expression a mask of polite inquiry. “I’m listening.”

He took a breath. He had rehearsed this a thousand times in his mind. “I’m leaving.”

Emma’s mask didn't slip. “Leaving for which safe house? The one in Lisbon is still viable, though I have my doubts about its long-term security.”

“No,” Jasper said, shaking his head. “Not to another safe house. I’m leaving… all of this.”

He gestured vaguely at the encrypted servers, the view of a foreign city, the entire concept of their shadow war. “We tried, Mom. We built a paradise on Krakoa. We had a home, a nation. And we lost. It’s over.”

“It is not over,” Emma countered, her voice dangerously soft. “It is a tactical retreat. We are regrouping.”

“It’s always regrouping,” Jasper’s voice cracked, just once. “My entire life has been a tactical retreat. From Utopia, from the school, now from Krakoa. It’s an endless fight, and I… I don’t want to fight anymore.”

He finally looked her in the eye, his own filled with a weary plea. “I want a chance. Just a chance, to be normal. I want to go to a real school. I want to worry about exams and paying rent and whether or not the guy I like knows I exist. I want to worry about things that don’t matter. Please.”

Emma stood up, her posture radiating a glacial chill. “A normal life? That is a sentimental and profoundly childish fantasy, Jasper. There is no ‘normal’ for us. Orchis is hunting every last mutant with a pulse. You are an Omega-level reality warper. Sending you to a university isn’t giving you a chance; it’s painting a target on your back and on everyone around you. I absolutely forbid it.”

“This isn’t about safety!” he shot back, his voice rising with a passion that surprised them both. “It’s about living! I have spent my entire life being safe in a fortress or a palace. I have never once lived. I am not an asset for you to protect. I’m not a symbol of a broken dream. I’m a person. And I want a life.”

He took a step closer, his own argument softening as he saw the flicker of genuine fear behind her diamond-hard facade.

“You taught me everything,” he said, his voice dropping to just above a whisper. “How to think, how to be strong. You protected me. You gave me a home when I had nothing. You’ve given me everything you could.” He paused, his next words heavy with the weight of his entire existence. “Now, please, give me this one last thing. Give me the chance at the one thing you couldn’t build for me on any island. Let me go.”

The plea, framed not as a rejection but as a final, desperate request, landed with the force of a physical blow. Emma turned away from him, her back ramrod straight as she stared out at the rain-streaked city. She was silent for a long time. The only sound was the drumming of the rain.

When she finally spoke, her voice was a brittle whisper, stripped of its usual authority.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” she said to the window. “The real world… it will not be kind. It will chew you up and spit you out for being different in ways you can’t even imagine.”

“Then let it try,” Jasper said softly.

She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. She couldn’t bring herself to say yes, but she also couldn’t say no. Not to that.

“I will make the arrangements,” she said, her voice clinical once more, her defenses re-forming. “A new identity. A bank account. You will be… Jasper Frost. It will be a clean legend.”

He felt a surge of both relief and gut-wrenching guilt for the pain he knew he was causing her. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” she said, still facing the window. “I am merely providing you with the means to walk into a hurricane. Do try not to drown.”

The conversation was over. He had her permission, but not her blessing. And as he walked out of the room, Jasper felt, for the first time in his life, the terrifying, exhilarating weight of true freedom.

[awisetoad]

Ahahah thank you! I scrolled back and found that post, and after not having looked at it in quite a while I forgot all the stuff I touched on. I do have more to add tho

also tagging @error-reality-not-found bc they liked all the other posts

what did they eat: part 2, electric boogaloo

so last time I kind of considered their diet in terms of maybe what I'd consider a meal (protein + carbs, but little veg given the reaction in Rivendell to the salad lmao). It's unlikely, but there is a chance they are existing on MOSTLY meat because… I mean, I suppose you can kind of forage wild tubers and roots, tho it's not really feasible to be finding and digging them up in the quantities they'd need to meet what we'd consider a normal macro split every day while on the road.

honestly, its worth exploring that mostly-hunting-some-foraging line of inquiry anyway bc that's how so many fics seem to portray the start of the journey.

and boy howdy does this need a cut.

but first: it's far more likely that they'd set out from wherever packing some stuff along. I know I cited bombur baking bread, but idk if that's right. I did some investigating and it seems like prime candidates would've been, like, oats (or rice? and corn but I also dunno about harvest season so maybe its barley or farro or something idk), and possibly some kind of hardtack and/or bannock. probably some hard cheeses and fresh fruit for the first days, but not so much that it ends up spoiling. potatoes could keep, but again idk about seasonality and they are too heavy bc of the water weight compared to shit like oats & grains in terms of calories vs weight. you really can't forget the weight of it all, bc they'll need more ponies to carry whatever amount of provisions they choose to pack to supplement their hunting and gathering AND ponies to carry whatever the weight is of processed game after each hunting session ON TOP OF the ones they are riding AND however many are carrying their non-edible supplies (like the cook pot)

like, here's an example that's just a rough estimate but if everyone has 1 cup of (uncooked) oats a day that's like 300-some calories? I think that weighs 81 grams per person, so 1,215g per day which makes 36,450g across ~30 days, from Bree to Rivendell which makes… 80lbs/36kg of oatmeal I guess? and looks like that's about in the ballpark of what a pony can carry.

(I am staring right at Gloin and his coin purse lmfao)

personally I think packing provisions from the Shire/Bree is essential, but if they run out (or they are washed away down the river by a spooked pony, lookin' at you Book!canon) we might be looking at strictly hunting/foraging for a while.

for foraged stuff like tubers, mushrooms, and probably some stew-friendly greens for fiber that Ori definitely picks around… I don't know the feasibility of gathering enough to make what we'd consider a proper portion per person. I wouldn't be surprised if they threw in as much as they could find honestly just to stretch what else they have. nuts, seeds, berries I imagine would be more like road snacks/lunch during travel days (along with jerky, but we'll get to that) especially if they keep well during travel

also, I quick googled caloric needs for a backpacking trip and it looks like maybe somewhere around 4,000+ calories is the ballpark for hiking in mountainous terrain which does line up with my past-self's googling on that previous post, so. I'll stick to how I calculated game before. If we take a sec and explore that hunting-and-foraging-only diet per above (making them…keto?) the game requirements end up kind of doubling from my last post. We're looking at having to hunt about, what, 60,000 calories worth of meat per day for the group?

Which means, based on the numbers in my other post—

> They'd need to hunt 2 deer, or 2 boar, or 8 good-sized fish, or 8-14 ducks, or 20 rabbits, OR a whopping 82 squirrels* every single day.

jfc uH

holy shit.

ahem, anyway

the logistics of that fuckery

I inquired with some of my buds & some internet folks who have more hunting experience than I, and (as stated in my last post) there's no reasonable way you can hunt & trap at that scale effectively on a literal daily basis, especially if that means having to strike camp, ride 3-4 hours (to hit that 10/mi a day posited by that Atlas of Middle Earth map) set up camp again, and then the time it takes to then process & cook your kills.

not to mention, not every spot along their path will even make for good hunting at all. and while some days you score big, some days you don't score at all.

google tells me that prime hunting time for lots of kinds of game is around dawn and dusk as well, so there's no way people would be sleeping enough with that kind of schedule.

I maintain it's much more likely they're doing some hard hiking/riding for ~20 or so miles (what I googled of pony stamina) for several days until they find the best possible camp that will let them maximize their hunt/forage potential, and then they're at camp for several days just resupplying and letting the horses rest.

and like, obviously, they are mixing and matching game— so like, 1 deer and 1 boar, or 1 deer and 4 fish, or some combination of small game critters that adds up to the equivalent of 82 goddamn squirrels ahaha what the fuck

Which means, fishing, fishing nets, all manner of traps for all kinds of critters which all take time to set and check every day, kili and thorin become an arrow factory, several members of the company are working together to drive boar straight to bifur (the scene from outlander of the boar hunt was enlightening). The foraging folks foraging. Who is out there? The whole damn company, apparently.

You need to catch enough food for the days in camp as well as enough for the days of travel ahead. so, maybe 2 or 3 days moving, 2 or 3 in camp, we'll estimate 5 days worth of game at a time? which means you need to have some kind of home team to handle processing the utterly astronomical 410 squirrels you've somehow managed to bring home.

is it 410 squirrels or hundreds of beavers

(it does work out to ~5 per day, per person in the company. that's two squirrels for breakfast, one for lunch, two for dinner and your actual caloric needs are met. so… jfc hahaha)

(for the love of god someone check my math)

Honestly, most of the edible meat is probably getting turned into some kind of preserved thing for travel days— cold smoking jerky or sausage (given the free natural casings would be otherwise wasted). meat hand pies if Bombur has flour in the provisions? —and in-camp during these off days you're probably making use of the much faster to spoil, and less… uh… desirable? stuff. like the organs, like the bones, marrow, the kind of shit we grind up & call "mechanically separated"… use every part of those 410 squirrels, along with any foraged items that won't keep, know what I mean?

and keep in mind all this processing as well as preserving methods also require like labor and time so its not like you really get much of an "off" day. I did find several ways to smoke meat over open flame but they do require like 12 hours of tending a fire lol so more evidence they're staying put for a while in order to render their game useful over the next few travel days.

and then they get to do it again over the next 5 day stretch… and maybe even the next, resulting in the wholesale slaughter of 1,230 squirrels over 15 days.

assuming in this example that the provisions from Bree only lasted a fortnight until they ran out, spoiled, or were an unfortunate casualty of a spooked horse and they spent the other half of the 30-days-to-Rivendell systematically collapsing the ecosystem

so that's a lot of fucking food

uh, yeah.

I think there's basically two huge points to make that could explain why thorins company might not actually be a walking ecological disaster:

they weren't actually meeting their caloric needs consistently (or at all, lol— canonically they spend a lot of time starving). there's several reasons this could be. one: spooked pony forces them to exclusively rely on hunting game and foraging and they have a lot of days with little-to-no scores. two: pre-spooked pony, they rely far more heavily on provisions from the Shire/Bree and thus hundreds of squirrels are spared in the first half of the trip in favor of oatmeal & bread. three: dwarves' special canonical earth-bread tubers are shockingly nutritionally dense and prolific to forage along their entire route.

dwarves are hardy, and "hardiness" means they can survive for far, far longer than humans can without starving to death or even really losing muscle mass. thus generally they need wayyyyyy less calories than I calculated. I honestly think this is correct, and even tho this is kinda the opposite end of the spectrum from most of the arguments I just made about supply quantities, we also don't see the implications of this explored much at all either (and even if we do, it's usually not until we hit Mirkwood).

Honestly, it could make for interesting dynamics if you consider dwarves may not initially realize they need to feed their non-dwarf members far more often than they need to eat themselves unless they want to accidentally starve their romantic interest their tag alongs—

("wtf do you mean, second breakfast"

"I knew hobbits needed to eat more, but you need to eat how much?!?! I guess that ruins all of my carefully budgeted provisioning. no, no don't worry about it, it's fine, fuck, we may as well go get the damn handkerchiefs given we need to go back and buy many, many more pounds of oats and like… twelve more ponies."

or

"oh shit we only caught one fish to last all 15 of us the next several days but uhh we kind of have to give it Bilbo or he'll starve to death— it's ok, the rest of us can wait another 3 days of travel to eat we'll be fine haha *sobbing* and hopefully wizards can conjure their own calories who tf knows")

so how do they know how to do all that?

again, I know Tolkien's extended canon works paint the picture of dwarves mostly not getting involved with farming or animal husbandry, instead preferring a symbiotic relationship with Men's settlements in order to stock their larders. but, as I think I said before (I barely remember at this point lol) I think it's reasonable to assume that isn't the entire story:

tolkien was very elf-biased and dwarf culture was "secretive" (aka not explored as much); thus, we could assume that the people "recording" this information about dwarves did not have a complete understanding

we can assume that the much-preferred symbiotic lifestyle the dwarves of Erebor enjoyed due to its prime location as a center of trade in the north was straight-up deleted after the sacking of Erebor. life as they knew it fundamentally changed and they had to adapt as refugees, picking up skills they wouldn't have needed before

maybe Fundin took Balin and Dwalin cave-fishing as kids, or they learned it from lake-town. maybe boar is one kind of game found from erebor to ered luin, so bifur is in his element anywhere. maybe fili and kili learned to shoot and trap from rangers in eraidor. maybe bofur, being good at ropes and knots as a miner, can rig up a fishing net easily. or maybe that's dori, if you follow the Fanon that he's a weaver. maybe Ori's actually really fucking accurate with that sling— look up native sling hunting on YouTube.

I do think that Gloin, being the one seemingly bankrolling the expedition along with maybe Balin, would be responsible for calculating, provisioning, and budgeting for the journey from Ered Luin, and acquiring ponies somewhere in the Shire, and then provisioning once again in Bree for the next stretch.

But also consider that they likely had a real plan for that next stretch and resupply point (that doesn't involve elves) that didn't end up working out given that more than a few unfortunate events happened (spooked pony, trolls, elves, realizing they had a deadline at all lmfao). Like. Where were they going next, before the trolls fucked everything up? around thru dunland? were they going to resupply originally in Rohan? or is there a settlement other than Beorn's they might've aimed for? Who knows.

endnotes

I think this sufficiently paints a vivid picture of the absurd amount of planning, effort, time, cost, supplies, and other various considerations that need to be done for this kind of excursion, and how crazy it is that we just gloss right tf over it ahahah

also the timeline for thorin meeting Gandalf, returning to ered luin, provisioning, traveling to a meeting in spaghetti-land, and then to hobbiton is bunk and I have another ted talk about that

and about bed rolls.

I'm not gonna link stuff bc it'd be too much, but my sources are shit like a billion hours of bushcraft camping/cooking videos, act/pct thru hike videos, the lewis and clark expedition records, Townsends and tasting history and Sohla's history food show on YouTube, the original Native American diet & pemmican, early human hunter-gatherer societies, fandabi dozi on YouTube, wagon trail cowboy shit, how to feed the crew of a 17th century ship while at sea, primitive food preparation pre-refrigeration, how medieval armies razed the countryside while marching to war, and personal real-life experience that includes but is not limited to: professional catering experience, feeding my 30-person extended family for every holiday growing up, feeding many bachelorette and stag parties for more than a few days bc I'm in my wedding attendance era.

anyway thank you for coming to my dissertation, apparently ted talk, happy to answer q's or expound on anything that might be unclear :)

*(it's possible it's even more than 82 squirrels/day because I have no idea if my past-self took Bilbo and Gandalf into account so I might be off by 2 entire people's worth of food, and fuck if I am going to attempt to figure out how many calories a hobbit needs. I'm not checking, I don't think I care to discover whether we have our first entries to eriador's endangered species list)

also fucking 82 squirrels that will literally never not be funny I am wheezing and crying right now in real life, good god

Not one of my normal posts, but:

Who do you think would go hunting for the Company during their travel to Erebor?

Would it be Dwalin?

Bifur?

Would Kili and Fili go out to hunt for the food?

Or would it be Thorins purpose also, to provide for his companions as the leader of the adventure.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

I’ve thought overnight about it, and:

I’ve got a lineup (from most often to least often)!!!

1. Gloin (we all know this man makes everything a completion, his game is the best, his wife is the best, his hair is the nicest copper color, his son is the best, we could go on and on) he prides himself on the kill he makes for the company.

2. Bifur I cannot use words to describe how vicious yet clean this dwarrow is with his kills. When Bifur kills an animal, it is left so perfectly, it looks like it’s alive, perfect for cooking and using every bit of the body they need

3. Suprisingly is Dwalin! We know our warrior is a bit rough around the edges all over, but he cares for his fellow kin in a subtle way, such as making sure they eat so they can “Put that food to good use and use your brain for once!”

4. Fili and Kili (cuz they a duo) Kili normally does the killing of Deer and such with his arrow, while Fili will take down physically with a dagger, Fili normally goes for the neck right away, Kili goes for the lungs of what he shoots at when hunting