#(yes that is her name... this show is a trainwreck)

[lovesick-level-up]

Bi4Bi + T4T Vegebul Circle Icons

nobody requested, our bakugo bullied me into doing these because i've been wanting to, but been scared. shout out to him one time.

anyway. dragonball brainrot. we genuinely really enjoy the show and the characters lmao, we don't know how it happened either. are there even people in the editing community who like dragonball other than us... probs not, but if you do exist, please request dragonball edits, we'll love you forever. also, vegebul bi4bi and t4t. they told me themselves.

feel free to use with credit as long as you aren't on our dni, but don't claim as your own! like/reblog if you save or enjoy!

[axnqel]

ⓘ ULTRAVIOLENCE .ᐟ I will do anything for you, babe.

─ pairing .ᐟ homelander x fem!psychiatrist!reader

─ synopsis & word count .ᐟ being hired by Vought as the psychiatrist for the seven wasn't exactly what you'd envisioned for your career. and captain patria falling in love with you? yeah, that definitely wasn't on the bingo card either. you liked him—God, you liked him more than you'd ever admit—but loving him? loving him felt impossible. it was like trying to hold onto a storm; no matter how hard you tried, it always slipped through your fingers, leaving nothing but chaos in its wake. | 4.0k words.

─ content warning .ᐟ slight ooc homelander, talks of narcissism, obsessive behaviors, homelander tweaking out, lwk stalking...., reader being quite literally the complete opposite of homelander, slight arguing but tbh it's lwk one-sided, angst, hurt/not really comfort, ending can be interpreted differently tbh, takes place somewhere in season one i guess.

─ c speaks .ᐟ tiktoks gone and i had over 100 homelander edits and i was only able to save 21. this is what happens when no one turns on their saves. in mourning fr. (edit: i deleted the app when it got banned. yes i know, biggest mistake because now its back??? like omigod), also try to spot the lana songs i referenced by name !!

Vought Tower was intimidating on your first day, though you’d never admit it out loud. The glass walls, the sterile halls, the feeling that the entire building is watching you—it all felt like stepping inside a gilded cage. You weren’t naive; you knew this job wasn’t going to be easy. You’d read the reports, seen the news, and done your research. The Seven were powerful, untouchable, and deeply dysfunctional.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t done anything similar to this before. You’d worked as a trauma counselor for too long and needed something new. But although this wasn’t that different from your previous job, the paycheck Vought offered you was obscene, and the idea of helping anyone navigate that kind of mess was almost too good a challenge to resist.

Still, the reality of it was a little more… intense.

“Try not to take anything personally,” Ashley Barrett chirped, with her tangy-pitched voice and her heels clicking too quickly down the hallway as you struggled to keep pace. “They can be… uh, strong personalities.”

Well, that’s lovely. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, clutching your notebook tighter. Strong personalities. Sure. That sounded like Vought’s PR-approved way of saying absolute trainwrecks and fucking maniacs.

The first meeting was set in the briefing room, a sleek conference space with a long table that was seemingly just for show. Fortunately for you, this was just an introductory meeting, and you had extra time to prepare for the sessions you would have with the supes later.

You weren’t expecting them to show up all at once—if they even showed up at all. But as you stood near the head of the table, straightening the folder in your hands for what felt like the thousandth time. the door swung open.

And there he was.

Homelander didn't just walk into a room; he commanded it. It was the first thing you truly noticed about him. Perfect posture, perfect suit, perfect smile that somehow felt more threatening than polite. His presence swallowed everything else, leaving no room for anyone else to breathe. And when his sharp blue eyes landed on you, it felt as though the world was closing in on you.

"You're the shrink?" he asked, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Psychiatrist," you corrected, keeping your voice steady.

He chuckled, low and quiet, like he'd already decided this was going to be fun—for him, anyway.

"Welcome." He said, his eyebrows raising as he walked over to the chair at the head of the table.

You stepped a few steps over, but that clearly did nothing as he subtly scooted closer to you.

My, did you need so much strength for this job.

The job was not easy. In case that wasn't already clear. Getting the supes to cooperate was like talking to a wall. You didn't want to coerce them into spilling out every detail of their life, but you weren't expecting them to be so grounded. Maybe your judgement was just clouded from what the media showed you about them.

Luckily, your office was a calm contrast from the chaos exhibited in Vought tower. The decor was intentionally neutral-earthy tones, soft lighting, and a simple desk with your tablet, folder, and notebook resting on top. A pair of comfortable chairs sat across from each other, meant to foster openness. Yet, the calm facade of the room was tested by the personalities that walked through the door.

Maeve was... okay. She was sweet, closed off, and knew exactly when to stop talking. PR training had clearly blinded her.

Black Noir was quiet—obviously but did exchange a couple words through his notepad.

A-Train was clouded and very insecure. However, that didn't change your resentment for his attitude towards you. Goodness.

The Deep pissed. you. off. But you kept a professional demeanor. His misguided attempt to flirt with you and the exaggerated confidence almost made you want to punch a hole in the wall. Ha.

Starlight might've just been your favorite yet. She was sweet and willing to talk, and her soft voice made you feel safe.

However, when the clock struck 6:00, and Homelander walked into your office on the dot, lord, you might as well have fainted.

It wasn't that you liked him or idolized him. You barely knew of him. Of course, you'd heard the name here and there, but to be frank, you never kept up and your family didn't give two shits. But the way he carried himself and spoke to you, it made your heart clench.

He was surprisingly so open to speaking, but the more he opened his mouth, the more narcissistic he seemed. If you could diagnose him with a God complex, you would. He acted like some million-dollar man, though he truly was. It just seemed he wanted to be in charge wherever he went.

"Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. I want to hear about how you're doing and how I can... support you." You kept your expression neutral, though your pulse quickened.

Homelander's smile widened, but there was an edge to it. "Support me? That's cute, but I'm fine. Really. The question is, how are you holding up? First day on the job and all." His tone was so friendly and polite, it confused her.

And it went on like this every session. He would come at 6 P.M. on the dot every Friday and the atmosphere in the room would become so charged. His presence was so magnetic, and his smile was disarming, yet the more he talked, and the more you listened, you started to feel some kind of way. Not anything you could explain, as ironic as that seemed.

And there was no kidding he felt something too. But your feelings were nothing compared to his.

He felt a burning desire for you the minute he walked into that conference room and looked you straight in the eye. He was willing to give himself up for you, and it felt so weird for him. Never in his many years of living did he ever feel this way.

Plus, you were just some ordinary woman. There was nothing special about you to the ordinary eye. You weren't a superhero or an entrepreneur. At the end of the day, you were just a psychiatrist, trying to make it through the day. If that was the case, then why was he so drawn to you?

He didn't understand—no—he couldn't understand.

And as time went on, this desire only grew stronger. Mutually.

Homelander began to fixate on you, quite unhealthily for that matter. It started innocently enough: more frequent eye contact in your sessions, lingering in the doorway of your office, showing up early for your sessions, or even walking you out of the tower at the end of your shift.

Being around you was like a balm for the constant chaos in his mind.

To him, you're unlike anyone he's ever met: calm, kind, and so completely human it fascinates and unnerves him. You were the complete opposite of him, and he never thought he could be attracted to that.

He's always managed to be in a relationship that was, while short-lived, with someone who elicited every ounce of his personality. Someone who was just like him. And maybe that was a good thing, who knows? But it only confused him more.

At first, he tries to justify it. You're his psychiatrist. His shrink. Nothing less, nothing more. You're meant to listen to him, to care about his feelings; he tells himself it's just your job.

However, as time goes on, he starts wanting needing more. He's tired of the patient-doctor dynamic. He begins asking personal questions, sometimes invasive, using his enhanced hearing to eavesdrop on your conversations with others, and justifying it all with the idea that he's "protecting" you. Problem is, he doesn't really know what he's doing. He's just trying to convince himself that his actions are worth being justified.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the shift in his behavior and try to keep the professional boundaries. You remind him, gently but firmly, that the relationship is strictly therapeutic. But it felt like you were telling yourself that rather than the captain himself.

"What's your favorite flavor of ice cream?" Homelander brings up after a moment of comfortable silence between the two of you.

You shifted in the cream-colored plush chair, your eyebrows raised with confusion. "I'm sorry?" You spoke questioningly. The two of you were just speaking about his narcissistic tendencies and now he's asking what your favorite ice cream flavor is? How bad was his attention span?

Homelander smiled, but it had that edge to it. So much so, you couldn't even tell if it was genuine. "What is your favorite ice cream flavor? Come on, you've gotta have one." He tilted his head as he continued to stare at you, his gaze never averting.

The question was simple. Innocuous, even. What's your favorite ice cream flavor?

But somehow, it felt like the world had slowed down the moment he asked it. What?

You blinked, the words tumbling through your heads as if he'd said something infinitely profound. It was the question itself—it was the way he asked it. The casual tilt of his head, the way his lips curved in that perfect, effortless smile, like he wasn't aware of the absolute devastation he left in his wake. His eyes—bluer than any sky or ocean you'd ever seen—were locked on you, so unrelenting it felt like he could see straight through your skin. He could.

Your throat tightened, a mix of awe and panic, as if he'd plucked every coherent though from your mind and left you with nothing but the ridiculous, overwhelming knowledge that this man was impossibly beautiful. Lord.

It was embarrassing! Really. You weren't some love-struck teenager, swooning at the mere sight of him. But God help you, that's exactly what it felt like.

"Uh..." you stammered, your brain working overtime to catch up to the question. You barely managed to form words; your voice softer than you intended. "Mint chocolate chip. I guess."

His smile deepened, and for a split second, you thought he might laugh. Not in a cruel way, no, but in that teasing, playful way that made your chest tighten even more.

"I love mint chocolate chip." He said, and you swore the warmth in his tone was just for you.

And just like that, you were lost.

You walked into your office the next day to find a tiny red cooler on top of your desk, with 4 jars of mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Homelander starts requesting more one-on-one sessions than originally planned. At first, he frames it as a necessity. "You know, it's stressful being me," he says with a tight-lipped smile during one session, leaning back in the chair like he owns the room. "I think I deserve a little extra... support."

You can't exactly argue. After all, this is your job, right? If he wanted extra support, he would get it. Simple as that. But even in those early days, there’s something about the way he watches you that makes your skin prickle—not with fear, not yet, but with the awareness of something unspoken hanging in the air.

It’s manageable, at first. He talks vaguely about the pressure of being perfect, about always having to put a show for the cameras, the crowd, and his fellow teammates. He doesn’t give you much, but to be fair, he doesn’t have to. You’ve worked with people similar to him before, people who hide their vulnerability behind bravado.

What surprises you, though, is how much he seems to want you to understand him.

And he clearly won’t stop until you do. Or until he makes you feel the same way he does.

It’s late—too late for anyone to still be in the building. You’ve been working late, reviewing session notes and preparing for tomorrow’s meeting with The Seven. The fluorescent lights hummed faintly, and the silence of Vought Tower felt heavier than usual.

You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice him at first, not until his reflection suddenly became clear in the glass of your office window.

“Burning the midnight oil?” His voice was smooth, casual, but it startled you all the same.

You turned, clutching your chest. “Homelander—God, you scared me.

He stepped inside, uninvited, and you immediately noticed the difference in his appearance. His cape is slightly askew, his hair less perfect with strands falling into his face, and there’s a tension in his posture that you can’t seem to place.

“I was in the area,” he says, brushing off your concern with a shrug. “Thought I’d check in. See how you’re doing.”

The statement threw you off. “I’m… fine,” you said carefully, unsure of where this was going. “You didn’t need to come all the way up here for that.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s not trouble. You know, I think you’re the only person in this whole damn building who’s honest with me.”

There’s a rawness to his words that takes you off guard, but before you can respond, he’s already moving closer, standing just a little too close. His gaze felt heavier than usual, like he’s searching for something in you—validation, comfort, maybe both.

"You really care about people, don't you?" he asked softly, almost as if he's testing the waters.

You nodded, choosing your words carefully. "I do. It's why I got into this field. I want to help."

He tilts his head, his smile sharpening into something darker, more knowing. "Even people like me?"

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. You meet his eyes, trying to keep your voice steady. "Especially people like you, Homelander."

"John." He corrected.

You furrowed your brows. "Sorry?"

"Call me John."

The first kiss didn't come softly—it was a collision.

It happened after one of your most intense and deep sessions. Homelander's mask slipped completely; his usual smirk replaced with a vulnerability so raw it made your chest ache. He's sat across from you, his hands gripping the edge of the chair as if he's afraid he might fall apart.

"I don't know how to stop," he admits, his voice low and trembling. "This... this thing inside of me. It's like... it's eating me alive."

You're not sure what to say. For all your training, for all your professionalism, you're still just a person. A person who feels too much.

"You're not broken, H... John," you whispered, even though you're not sure you believe it.

His eyes snap to yours, and for a moment, there's silence. Then he's standing, closing the distance between you in a single heartbeat.

"Don't say that," he says, his voice sharp but desperate. "Don't lie to me. You don't really understand—no one understands. But you... you're different."

Before you can stop him, his lips crash into yours. It's not gentle—it's needy, almost frantic, like he's trying to our everything he can't say into you. You feel the weight of his emotions in every movement, every shiver of his breath against your skin.

And for a moment, you let him. You kiss him back, your fingers curling into his suit as you let yourself drown in the intensity of it all.

But then reality hits, sharp and cold. You pull away, your breath hitching.

"This... we can't," you stammer, stepping back. "Homelander, this isn't right."

He doesn't respond immediately. His gaze is locked on you, his chest heaving. Then, slowly, a smile curls across his lips—a soft, unsettling thing.

"You felt it too," he says quietly, and there's a glimmer of triumph in his tone.

You shake your head, and the pounding of your heart is like music to his ears. "This can't happen again," you whisper, but even as you say the words, you're not sure you believe them.

You tell yourself it was a mistake. That it was a moment of weakness, nothing more. But it doesn't feel like a mistake. Not when you catch Homelander looking at you during your sessions, his gaze heavy and unrelenting.

"I scare you, don't I?" he asks one day, his tone casual but his eyes anything but.

"You don't scare me," you reply, though your voice wavers.

He leans forward, his expression softening. "I should." He says, almost gently.

There's a part of you that wonders if he's right. If you're being reckless, selfish, delusional. But then there's another part of you—a darker, quieter part—that craves him. That loves him. Even though you know you shouldn't.

And that's the part that keeps you up at night.

You notice it the next morning—the way your mail seems disturbed, the faint smell of his cologne lingering in your hallway. It's subtle at first, easy to dismiss. But it only gets worse.

You find flowers on your doorstep. Your favorite, in fact. There's no note, but you know exactly who they're from.

When you confront him during your next session, he doesn't even try to deny it.

"You don't have to thank me," he says, smiling like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"John, this isn't... appropriate," you say, your voice firm but uncertain.

"Appropriate?" He echoes, his smile fading. "After everything I've done for this country, for this cruel world... you're worried about what's appropriate?"

You don't know how to respond, so you don't. But his words stick with you, planting seeds of guilt and confusion that take root in your mind.

You're sitting in your apartment, nursing a glass of red wine and trying to shake the feeling that you're being watched. The soft hum of the radio fills the space and before you know it, he's there, standing on your balcony like he belongs there.

"You left the curtains open," he says, his tone teasing but his expression serious.

"John," you say, standing quickly. "What are you doing here?"

He doesn't answer right away. Instead, he steps inside, his gaze locking onto yours.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he says, his voice low and raw. "You're all I think about. Every second of every day. And it's driving me insane." He's practically fed up. He could kill you, get it over with and maybe then everything will go away. But somewhere deep inside, he knows that's not the case.

You should tell him to leave. But instead, you let him close the distance between you again.

When he kisses you this time, it's softer, slower, but no less intense. And once again, you let yourself get lost in it.

The kiss ends too soon, leaving you breathless and unsteady on your feet. Homelander—or rather, John, as he’s insisted you call him—steps back just enough to study your face. His expression is unreadable, a mixture of triumph, longing, and something darker, something that makes your pulse race for all the wrong reasons.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs, his voice almost tender. “I’d never let anything happen to you. No one will ever hurt you while I’m around.”

You can’t stop the chill that runs down your spine at his words. There’s sincerity in them, but also a quiet promise, one that doesn’t leave room for argument. It’s like he’s already decided what your life will look like, as if the idea of you existing without him is unfathomable.

“I’m not afraid,” you lie, stepping back, trying to regain your composure. “But this… this isn’t right, John. You know it isn’t.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, the mask slips. The vulnerability you’ve seen in your sessions flickers, but it’s quickly replaced by something colder, more calculating.

He doesn’t like being told no. You can see it in the way his shoulders tense, in the flicker of irritation that passes through his piercing blue eyes.

“But it feels right,” he counters, taking a step closer. “Doesn’t it? You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too. I know you do.”

You want to argue, to deny it, but the words catch in your throat. Because the truth is, he’s right. You do feel it. That pull, that connection, that overwhelming magnetism that makes it impossible to think straight when he’s around. It’s intoxicating and terrifying all at once, like standing on the edge of a cliff and daring yourself not to look down.

“This isn’t about what feels right,” you say finally, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to keep it steady. “It’s about boundaries, John. About professionalism. And this—whatever this is—it crosses every line.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. Then he smiles, slow and deliberate, like he knows something you don’t.

“You’re scared,” he says softly, almost sympathetically. “Not of me. Of how you feel about me.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you can’t breathe. Because he’s not wrong, and he knows it.

“I think you should leave,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “This… this isn’t going to happen, John. It can’t.”

His smile falters, and for a split second, you see something raw and dangerous flash across his face. But he doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods, his expression hardening into something more familiar, more controlled.

“Alright,” he says, his voice tight. “I’ll go. But this isn’t over. You know that, don’t you?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. All you can do is watch as he steps back out onto the balcony, his cape billowing behind him like a shadow. He pauses for a moment, turning to look at you one last time.

“Goodnight,” he says, his voice soft but laced with something unspoken. And then he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there.

You collapse onto the couch, your heart pounding in your chest. The room feels impossibly quiet without him, the weight of his presence lingering even after he’s left. You tell yourself it’s over, that he’ll leave you alone, that you can go back to your life and pretend none of this ever happened.

But deep down, you know better.

The following days pass in a blur. You throw yourself into your work, trying to ignore the way your skin prickles every time you pass a reflective surface, the way you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched.

The flowers keep arriving, always your favorite, always without a note. And every time you see them, you’re reminded of his words, his touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

And then, one night, you find a letter slipped under your door. It’s written in his handwriting, neat and precise, and your hands tremble as you read it.

I’ll wait as long as it takes. You know where to find me.

You fold the letter carefully, placing it in the drawer of your desk. You tell yourself it doesn’t mean anything, that you don’t care, that you’re not waiting for him to come back.

But as you sit there in the quiet of your apartment, staring at the faint glow of the city lights outside your window, you can’t help but wonder what it would mean if you did.

Would it be so wrong to want him? To give in, just once, and see what it feels like to be completely consumed by someone like him? Or would it be the beginning of the end, the moment you lose yourself to something you can never take back?

You don’t have the answers. Maybe you never will. But you can’t deny the tiny, treacherous part of you that whispers: what if? What if it was easier? What if loving him didn't have to be so hard? Would you still do it?

And somewhere out there, in the shadows of the city, he’s waiting.

© axnqel ─ all rights reserved. our work is not to be reposted, translated or plagiarized anywhere.

[axl-ion]

Genuinely don't like the Yandere trope, because it just feels so removed from the definition of a Yandere.

All Deres refer to type of person when in love. Tsundere is a Dere that is cold at first but warms up to the love interest.

Yandere is a Dere that's very much in love, to the point of obsession, which PEOPLE DO GET when writing the trope. However they almost always go the YanSim route and go straight for the murder, when like... The murder is the least interesting thing about the Yandere trope.

Where's the blackmail? Where's the jealousy and envy?

Hell, Marinette Dupaine Cheng, most likely unintentionally, hits MOST OF the criteria of a Yandere and while it's fuckass creepy, it's INTERESTING BECAUSE THERE'S NO FUCKING EASY COPOUT OF HER JUST PULLING YANDERE-CHAN ON CHLOE.

Like, according to some definitions Yanderes are also sweet and caring at first and then they get obsessive.

Marinette is caring, sweet, supportive, but very obsessed and also gets jealous when some other girl is with Adrienne. She lied to her family to go to China to see the guy. And yes, Chloe also displays a lot of similar traits, but there's a catch.

Chloe isn't obsessive over Adrienne the same way Marinette is. Chloe is a bitch. She's Rebecca George, even if poorly executed. Her defining traits aren't mostly connected to Adrienne, but to her being the stock high school bully character. She's a Himedere (at least in the early seasons). She's snobby, stuck up, bossy, mean, wants to be treated like a princess (and is also the mayor's daughter) her literal last name is Bourgeois and has a soft spot for Adrienne (for 2 reasons - A) childhood friend B) the prettiest guy ever). That's almost the entire definition of Himedere.

Which may be the only thing that was executed somewhat good by this trainwreck of the show.

[bumblekastclips]

KYLE CROUSE: Alright, we got one last question. It’s from JediPony. [chuckles] Love that name, I don’t know why. It makes me laugh. [reading question] “How would you write an 06 adaptation in Sonic X?” Here’s the question, would you write the 06 adaptation in Sonic X the show, or Sonic X the comic?

IAN FLYNN: [laughs] KYLE: It’s very— two very different things. IAN:Very different things. I don’t know, if we’re gonna be true to the source material, then Elise doesn’t really have a role, and Chris is the one who has the Flames of Disaster sealed inside him. KYLE: [laughing] Oh no! Oh! IAN: “Chris, whatever you do, you can’t cry!” [as Chris, weepily] “But why?!” [Iblis roar] KYLE: It’s all he does! [laughs] No! IAN: Oh, man, now I’m imagining Mephiles with, like, that really bad early 2000s CG effect. All these awful filters flyin’ around. KYLE: Oh, God, no! [laughing] This would be awful. IAN: You’d have, like, the budget episodes where Soleanna and New City are just, like, these flat, grey urban textures that have like, no depth, but then you get to the final episode where they’re doing the Super fight against Solaris, and the animation bump goes through the roof, and it’s glorious. And you forgive the last 26 episodes of your life that you’ve wasted watching it so far. KYLE: Mhm. IAN: [choking the words out through high pitched, wheezing laughter] This means Chris is the one that kisses Sonic back to life! [fit of maniacal laughter] KYLE: [frantic, horrified laughter] No! No! No! No! Ian, no! Ian! No! IAN: [prolonged cackling laughter] KYLE: The worst timeline! Oh, no! IAN: Oh, and Eggman has to be as close as they can get him to photorealistic Eggman in the Sonic X style. KYLE: No! IAN: Which does not work at all! KYLE: No, no, no! No! This is not going on the thumbnail! No! IAN: [wheezing laugh] KYLE: No, do not put this on the thumbnail! [laughing] IAN: Oh, my goodness, just imagine the art errors for Silver’s head alone… KYLE: Oh… no… oh, no… at least Dan Green could still be the voice of Mephiles. IAN: Oh, yeah, that’d be fantastic. [microphone glitches] That’s the only reason to do this. KYLE: That would be— yeah. Oh… IAN: Oh, would they try to hand-animate Omega? Or would he be like, early 2000s CG? KYLE: Just crappy CG, no! IAN: That you just composite into each shot… oh, man, it’d be awful! KYLE: [pained sound not unlike he is receiving a fully conscious appendectomy] Oh! IAN: Wait! [microphone glitches again] They did the weird thing with Sonic and Shadow’s spines when they would turn their heads. What would Silver look like?! KYLE: [resigned groan] IAN: Would it just be like, one giant spine, depending on the angle? [bursts into laughter] KYLE: [groans as if he is dying] Ian… what are you doing… why are you— IAN: [microphone glitches again as if resisting] The Iblis monsters would have the terrible CG effects, too! KYLE: Why am— why am I the reasonable one!

IAN: [laughs] KYLE: Why am I the one who’s being… [gives up on finishing this sentence] IAN: Forget the comic, the comic can’t hold a candle to this idea! KYLE: Oh, no… IAN: [in awe] What a glorious trainwreck! KYLE: What’s even funnier is that your mic is trying to stop you. IAN: [cackles] KYLE: It’s not working. [laughs] So cursed! IAN: The whole thing would be so awful… KYLE: Yeah? IAN: But then there would be, like, this incredibly well-written and poignant subplot about Elise dealing with her emotional trauma, and how Soleanna as a country even works. And it’s like, maybe an episode, maybe two that really gets into it and fleshes out this world in a meaningful and robust manner. KYLE: [chuckles] Yeah. IAN: And that’s it. That’s like— that and Dan Green are the only redeeming things out of this season. KYLE: [sigh, reading chat] Ian, in the chat… IAN: Yeah. KYLE: In the Bumblekast Discord server, open it up. There’s a little piece of art there. Someone has, uh, sketched Silver. [chuckles] IAN: [seeing it, delighted, evil] Yes! KYLE: [laughing] IAN: Cursed Toucan Sam! KYLE: [cackles] Oh no! Why do you…? No! Awful! Toucan— IAN: [as Silver] “Just follow my nose, wherever it goes!” KYLE: [horrified, amused] Toucan Silver! No! [emits the world’s most drawn-out, pained cry of defeat] IAN: Psycho-beak-nesis! KYLE: [laughing] Bumblekast was a mistake! IAN: [laughs] It was, but at least we’re over with it for today. KYLE: [laughing] Oh… I guess so.[outro music fades in]

EPISODE THUMBNAIL by the incredible @nintendoni-art

—— TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE: Please remember that nothing that is said on BumbleKast is canon! It’s just some guys and their opinions occasionally spitballing ideas. If you don’t like an answer, you don’t have to take it as Word of God or anything like that. It’s all just for fun!

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Got tagged by @chaotic-neutral-knitter to share my favorite fics I've written and I feel a little bad not putting any of my 3 OFMD fics on the list. But in my defense it was very hard to choose between my 116 slutty slutty children, and while I like my OFMD fics a lot (especially Learning and Remembering) I decided to limit myself to five fics across all the fandoms I have written for over the past nine (!!) years, and there are some that stand above the rest.

Maybe I'll Show You the Way (Dune, Paul/Chani). Maybe my recency bias is showing but I really think this is one of the best things I've written. Paul and Chani's whole "falling in love while fighting side by side in an anti-colonial armed resistance movement" romance in Dune Part Two felt like it was designed in a lab to appeal to me specifically, and I just wanted more of it! What started with a simple "5 times they fucked in between fighting the Harkonnens" premise has become a novella-length character study about war, politics, solidarity and resistance to oppression in all its forms, interlaced with a very sweet, youthful first-love romance that always has a bittersweet edge because we the audience know these characters are living in a tragedy. This fic is one chapter from completion and I've been stalling because I really wanna stick the landing on this one, but it will get finished!

a narrow door, swiftly closing (Dune, Paul/Duncan) Different ship, different era (post-Dune Part One) and a very different vibe. The fun of this ship is the multiple power imbalances running in different directions (younger/older, student/teacher, lord/vassal, end product of a 90-generation eugenics program with a mind that can bridge time and space/Just Some Guy). It's also got that chewy age gap thing where the older character has watched the younger character grow from a child to an adult and has to wrestle with the realization that they find them sexually attractive now. Peak forbidden romance and mutual pining in this one and not just one but two of my favorite finally-crossing-the-line kisses I have ever written.

Three Times Is a Habit (Trust, Primo/The Other Paul) Ah yes, my "which doomed curly-haired teenage twink heir to a powerful dynasty named Paul are we talking about?" era. For a hot second (most of 2021) I was really into this hidden gem FX limited series Trust, based (with many creative liberties taken) on the real kidnapping of John Paul Getty III in Italy in the 1970s. The fun of this fandom is that every ship is an absolute garbage fire of bad decisions, and writing the trainwreck emotional logic that leads to a traumatized teenager repeatedly hooking up with his kidnapper was an adventure. There's also a fun meta layer at play in the relationship between our reality, the fictionalized "true" version of the kidnapping that happens in the show, the lies the characters tell about the fictionalized version of the kidnapping in the show, and the version of the characters I'm writing, some of whom are based on real people and some of whom are made up. (Is this RPF? You decide.) This fic will make zero sense if you haven't watched the show. But you should! It's a wild ride with a great cast (Donald Sutherland presente!)

Salvage & Scrap (Mad Max: Fury Road, Gen) Two minor characters who have a combined total of maybe five minutes of screen time produced what was until recently my longest fic on AO3. This fic was based on a fantastic prompt: what if Ace (the older war boy who seems to be Furiosa's second in command on the War Rig) and Valkyrie (Furiosa's Green Place gal pal) both survived their violent vehicular encounters and met each other? The idea was immediately appealing to me because they both care about Furiosa but have known such different versions of her, and the way their worldviews would clash seemed like great story fodder. I still love the imagery of them meeting at the place where their worlds have literally collided--the wreck of the War Rig in the Rock Riders' canyon. Also I recently reread this and I forgot how devastating the tiny glimpse we get of Furiosa is in this fic.

Fightplay (Mad Max: Fury Road, Max/Furiosa) You know this list wouldn't be complete without a smutty Maxiosa fic. It was really hard to pick one piece of the 127k smut novel I wrote about them in non-chronological order over the course of about 3 years (2015-2018). But Fightplay was definitely the start of writing uhhh a certain kind of dynamic for them. The prose is very spare and exacting in a way that I still find hot 9 years later.

Tagging @thebyrchentwigges, @thetardigrape, @nandamai, @bethagain, @demolitionwoman-blog and anyone else who wants to do this!

[astorythatwritesitself]

OC Meme - Adrian Shepard

Nobody asked for this, but y'all are getting it anyway because I saw @omniblades-and-stars & @stormikins do this and it looked fun, so!

(By @valkblue & @eluvisen respectively!)

GENERAL

Name: Adrian Olivier Shepard 

Alias(es): Addy (from her family), and ofc the usuals via Alliance/Normandy crews (Shep/Shepard/Commander)

Gender: That's something to think about in peacetime 🫠 Just kind of runs with whatever others perceive; defaults to she/her pronouns. (Adrian's somewhere in the transmasculine range, and did pursue some some body modification during college - but all of that just dropped the fuck off after Akuze & then… like. -gestures @ everything that happens + Lazarus undoing a few things & she didn't intend on living long enough for it to matter any more-) 

Age: 28 - 32, depending on game. (Although she's also had the fun questions, post-Lazarus, about how exactly to quantify that...)

Place of Birth: SSV Toronto, during a stint in the Exodus cluster. 

Spoken Languages: English, smatterings of Quebecois French, Spanish & Russian, surprising fluency in Galactic Standard (aka the ever-evolving pidgin of Citadel space). 

Sexual Orientation: Pansexual with very limited instances of romantic interest.

Occupation: Commander in the Alliance Navy (if we want to get really technical: a special operations saboteur/data gatherer - she wanted to be a medic or get into diplomatic relations, but like hell anyone was letting a biotic stay on the sidelines entirely)/Citadel Spectre.

FAVORITE 

Color: Indigo blue

Entertainment: Music, books - not all that big on shows/movies, with the notable exception of a couple medical dramas.

Pastime: Swimming, upgrading/hacking omni-tools, poetry memorization/recitation (all-time fave/longest she can do from memory is The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock), model ship building, galactic politics, collecting rock & mineral samples from various planets she's been to, photography.

Food: Toss-up between Blast-Oh’s and seaquats (nickname for a Kajhe-native spiny pink & white ocean fruit, size & shape is similar to a kumquat. Taste is vaguely briny, then very sweet).

Drink: Masala chai.

Books: The Hitchiker's Guide to the Galaxy, the collected works of Edgar Allen Poe (The Black Cat is her favorite story of his, Annabelle Lee is her favorite poem), For She Is The Krogan Queen: The Legacy of Shiagur.

HAVE THEY 

Passed University: Went through & passed an Alliance military college - majored in cybersecurity, though she still took a few classes relating to paramedicine.

Had Sex: Yes

Had Sex in Public: Not yet. 

Gotten Tattoos: Got a stylized thresher maw tattoo after Akuze - the body segments were done using the names of the lost unit; she was /not/ happy to see it gone after waking up in the lab.

Gotten Piercings: No

Had a Broken Heart: The better question is if it's ever not been kinda broken, tbh. There's a lot of disillusionment & heartache as she grows up & starts her career - she moves around a lot, so getting attached to anyone will go and hurt (and keeping herself distant hurt just as much, just in different ways). Her parents are both career military - one ground and one medical, she's always surrounded by talk of loss and death; not to mention the just... slow motion trainwreck that is their relationship. She loses her unit, loses the man she was just falling in love with, sees humanity and the galaxy at large pushed to the brink...

And we uh. We're just not going to talk about how she reacts, in the canon!verse, to losing Thane, Mordin & Legion.

Been in Love: Yes - there's a couple probable cases earlier in her life (notably Kaiden Alenko), but Thane's the first person she can definitively say she's fallen in love with.

ARE THEY

A cuddler: Y'know how after being malnourished for long enough, someone has to start so very slowly to be able to eat again? Yeah, Adrian /was/ a cuddler, but it takes a long time to get back there.

Scared easily:

She is so very scared. So very much of the time. There's so many people depending on her and so many bad things that can, will, and have happened if she fucks up, and her fear of doing that again is what keeps her going. Totally sustainable, right?

Jealous easily: Nah. 

Trustworthy: Mostly - but she's pragmatically minded enough that she is willing to use what she knows to her advantage, if the situation calls for it. When it comes to the battlefield though, oh god yes. Ever since Akuze - she'll be first in and last out, no matter what, as long as she has any say in the situation.

FAMILY 

Siblings: Yes, though they show up… way later in her life lmao. Her parents divorce, dad gets together with a turian doctor, & they adopt a couple kids . Due to Shenanigans involving said dad pretty much totally changing his first and last name, said kids don't quite realize their new big sibling is That Commander Shepard until she shows up for the holidays. She also considers Grunt something of a little brother.

Parents: Alive and (relatively) well, all throughout the series - in the standard canon, they actually far outlive her.

Hannah Shepard was from a career military family, while Adrian Alexander Bishop was a foster kid who needed a med degree. They were both in the RMC at Kingston when the Prothean data cache was uncovered and joined the Alliance together as soon as humanly possible, honored to be among the first of humanity to explore the stars, and eager to leave what legacy they can.

 Their marriage is a fucking disaster and only held up as long as it did because Hannah was often gone for quite a while on postings - they're functionally separated by the time Adrian's in high school; divorced not long after Hannah's actions on Torfan.

Children: Never intended on having kids in any capacity, but she does wind up a step-parent to Kolyat. (For the first couple years while everyone's adjusting to things, it's fucking hilarious to see just how deeply uncomfortable they both get when reminded of this fact.)

Pets: Fairly successful at keeping fish. (Also has an extensive menagerie of pet rocks).

[yakumtsaki]

-Oh Sunset, I'm so lucky to be in a loving relationship with such a kind, loyal and non-criminally insane person such as yourself!

You're so on the money, buddy, the only thing you missed was 'sexually repelled by cousins'.

-I CAN'T DO THIS, TYLER, YOU'RE SUFFOCATING ME -I'm sorry! Also my name is Ty! -I KNOW BUT IT'S A STUPID NAME AND I'M NOT CALLING YOU THAT

She's right, Ty, and to top it off your last name isn't Union, it's like you're not even trying!

Bruh.. This chain of interactions from the hugging to the insulting to the making out took place in about 1 minute, I can't believe Stacy and Julian of all couples produced Sunset. Why can't you be more like your parents?? They were my cutest, healthiest couple ever!!

-They only thing they cared about having sex 50 a times a day! Aunt June basically raised me!!

Omg I'm looking at the pics of the spare updates I never posted because I suck and YA SHE DID, that explains so much, June is truly the platonic ideal of the hot-batshit combo.

Speaking of batshit-

-And hot!

If you say so, Barth is putting the moves on Marla Biggs, whomst we last saw when June (there she is again) used her to dump Erik-

-Yes, and that one wolf whistle from June turned me gay for all eternity, so don't even bother!

-UGH. So I guess I have no choice..

-..but to sleep with another one of my second cousins! -Oh Barth, I can't believe this is finally happening!!! -I know, Cyan, it took way too long!

We've been here for a week.

-Don't worry, nothing will interrupt this magical moment-WHAT THE FUCK I'M BEING CHEATED ON GOTTA RUN SORRY CYAN CATCH YOU LATER

Ok apparently I was laughing too hard to take a decent pic, but yes, BARTHOLOMEW CAUGHT HIS COUSIN 'CHEATING' ON HIM AS HE WAS HOOKING UP WITH HIS OTHER COUSIN. I HATE MY GAME.

-AND I HATE YOU, SUNSET. YOU BROKE MY HEART -FUCK YOU, BARTHOLOMEW, I'M NOT GONNA BE PART OF YOUR SECOND COUSIN HAREM -I HOPE YOU DROWN IN THE POOL -This was so beautiful, Sunset, I think I'm falling in love with you💙 -GET OUT OF HERE, TYLER -It's Ty! -NO ONE CARES, ASSHOLE -DON'T TALK TO TYLER LIKE THAT -That's not my name! -IT IS NOW, SHUT UP

I gotta hand it to Ty, he's in it to win it, whatever it is one could possibly 'win' when it comes to Sunset.

-Oh Sunset, you're the queen of my heart! -Gross!🥰

-Aw baby, I love spending all our awake time woohooing and doing nothing interesting, huhu!🌞 -It really is the best, thanks to your horrific LTW we don't even have to try! It's so awful people are bound to vote for us just to watch the trainwreck!

Ya I wish I had a counter-argument but you two really have this thing figured out, even I wanna watch me have a mental breakdown trying to raise your 6 asshole kids.

-Our kids are not gonna be assholes!🌞

LOL YA OK MEADOW, whatever helps you sleep at night.

-Meadow and Felina are not the only ones with a perfect relationship! Britannicus and I are also deeply in love!! I'm writing a novel about it as we speak!!!

Jimmy no offense but I literally forgot you live here and I can barely remember who Britannicus is half the time.

-THE PARTY HAS ARRIVED

Oh Britannicus here you are, thank God, you're so indispensable to this legacy!

-All you main-houser bitches look down on me but I have a lot to offer!! I'm grandpa Gunther's heir!!!

Of course you are, now give us the pizza so the people who matter don't die.

-I'll show you! I'll show you all!! >:(

Yes yes, it's been lovely catching up-

-and now it's time to get serious and break Cyan and Barth up! Hit us with your best shot, Marg, we've been on a winning streak lately with those matches, please don't go back to Cyn's leftovers.

-Got you, say no more..

-Here's Kennedy Cox!

MARGARET

-Well it's very hard to find someone Cyneswith hasn't banged!

Ok ya that's very true but Cyan is understandably like 😬 so let's try this again, here's another dollar.

-Alright, you didn't want Cyneswith leftovers..

-How about Sandy the Zombie leftovers??

I hope I don't have to explain to you why that's SO MUCH WORSE

-And I hope I don't have to explain to you that you get what you pay for when you give a dollar for a date!

Fucking touche, Marg, get out of here.

And now for another sequence of events so absolutely ridic I'm just gonna describe it with no dialogue:

So I send Cyan inside to check the college directory thing and see what available bachelors we might booty call up, but there's no one that I like for her so I send her back out to ask Margaret for another dollar date-

-once outside, we find BRITANNICUS SERENADING BARTHOLOMEW, to which Cyan has no reaction as she's probably too shocked-

-poor dumbass loved up Jimmy has no clue and is inside getting high-

-Cyan asks Marg for another date as Barth is performing the Second Cousin Vagina Monologues-

-Margaret gives us Neon Vest Zomb AGAIN and I'm like wtf-

-at which point Britannicus, who just one moment ago was serenading Barth, WOLF WHISTLES AT CYAN-

-CAUSING BARTH TO FEEL CHEATED ON AND DUMP HER

-BETRAYED BY MY OWN BLOOD TWICE IN ONE DAY! OH, THE SHAME!

BARTH SHUT UP. BRITANNICUS WHAT. THE. HELL

-I told you! >:D

Ok you know what, at least with this I feel we have peaked and there is simply no way the situation in this house can get more insane and degenerate-

-Think again!

NO FUCKING WAY. NO. SPICE WHAT ARE YOU DOING YOU'RE DATING ELDERLY GOOD WITCH, I SPECIFICALLY FOUND YOU A GF TO KEEP YOU OUT OF THIS BS

-I know but there's something almost genetically inherited drawing me to Cyan! -Yes, It's almost like our parents were into each other but there was some invisible force separating them!

YA THAT WAS THE LAWS OF NATURE

-Oh please, it was the extended family mod and we no longer have to function under its oppression!

NOTHING IN THIS HOUSE IS REMOTELY FUNCTIONING. You know what, enjoy this while it lasts because I'm breaking every single one of you mofos up, istg I feel like I'm fighting the Hydra, I chop one semi-incestuous head off and two others pop up. WELL I'LL WIN LIKE HERACLES

I'd like to end this disgusting update with this image of the rose Ty left for Sunset next to the flaming shitbag Neon Vest Zombie left for Cyan. What is this world coming to that men no longer appreciate you cheating on them with 2 of your cousins during a date?? Chivalry is dead!

[walliumva]

Fist to Door Caroling (Part 2)

Chapter 2: Holiday Caroling

“Hey” he began, “I thought I recognised that hand!” 

God damn it, Rudy.

There was a horrible, frigid silence as she gazed at him with her ice-blues. This would be an excellent opportunity to run, (rudolph, run) but his hooves stood stock-still. She gazed down at him from the porch with a completely unreadable expression.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out another cigarette. “Yes. It left quite an impression.”

Goddamn, what a comeback. Cool as ice, no hesitation. She was running circles around him and he was only one sentence in. “So, uh, sorry, you’re Caroline, right?”

“Carol. Rudolph, correct?” She spoke only a little each time, but every single word that she spoke dripped with treacle-like intensity; and like treacle, it was difficult not to feel like something was stuck to the back of your throat when you drank them up. 

Rudy coughed. He needed to pull out the charm and fast if he was gonna keep himself from running. “Uh. No,” he attempted, his head screaming as it failed to stop the oncoming trainwreck sentence, “It’s uh, ‘Rude’ Rudy. Haha. Big difference, obviously.” They stood silent for a moment. She coughed into her fist.  He did the same. “Look. I’m not so used to uh, being gentlemanlike,”

“I can tell.”

Jeez , it was like she’d taken that line straight from Ma.  “aaand, I wanted to do the right thing.”

She took a drag from her cigarette. “Proceed.”

Oh god why was she making this so difficult? “Right.” He imagined all of the slick things he’d been thinking of saying were coming out of his ears like steam from a kettle. “So. I probably shouldn’t have called you what I called you, and I understand why you hit me in the face.” he caressed his cheek. “Nice swing, by the way.”

She nodded, the horizontal line that was her mouth unmoved. 

Heaven help him, why did he need to bother with this again? Was this supposed to make either of them feel better? This was stupid! She was better than his apology, and she knew it, and she was lording it (or perhaps ladying it) over him so well. Meanwhile, he just felt small, and stupid, and cold, and stupid. He was stupid twice; she could totally tell that too. 

Screw it. Just get on with it and go.

“So yeah. I’m sorry.”

“I accept your apology.” 

“Oh.” He blinked. Did that seriously just work? 

Wow, uh. Wow! That was almost too easy!

“On two conditions.”

Had to jinx it. Of course there’s a catch; she’s too beautiful for there not to be a catch.

The apology was done. He didn’t need to torture himself to try and make it better. If she didn’t accept it, she should have just said no. It was like Toriel said, you apologise, you accept the consequences. He didn’t have to prove himself to this gal.

He looked into her eyes. They were cold.

But the smell of her cigarette was warm. And her perfectly contoured eyebrows were softly resting on her face, without tension. And in that moment there was something in the way she looked at him which began to thaw the worries frozen in his mind. 

Her shock-blue eyes weren’t just cold. There was sadness, like at any moment tears could flow from them like thawed ice.

What was the harm in humouring her?

“Sure, name your price!” He stuck on a grin. Worst came to worst, he at least knew he could  at least hold his head high; no matter what cruel, twisted, game she was going to play. She took a long pull of the cigarette before blowing a dragon-sized puff of smoke. “Firstly, I would like to ask you two questions, and I would like you to answer them honestly,”

“Well, that won’t be a problem. I’m great at speaking my mind.” He chuckled.

“I noticed.” She didn’t chuckle with him. 

He rubbed the back of his neck as his laughter transposed into a cough of embarrassment. 

“The second part of our bargain I will reveal once you’ve answered me.”

Great, a mystery condition. This was like that one kid’s game show where if you said a certain word, the ceiling would drop out and pizza-scented slime would pour all over you. All the kids would be waiting in terror for the entire run-time, just waiting for the shoe to drop. Except in Rudy’s case, instead of slime or shoes it would probably be a rain of fists from a sexy deer lady. 

What the hell. It wasn’t like he had much planned for the rest of the night anyway. 

“Alrighty. Lay it on me.” His eyes widened slightly. “And by that I mean the questions. Please don’t deck me in the face again.”

For the first time, there was the barest hint of a smile on her face. “No promises.” Rudy wasn’t sure if it was a particularly warm smile, but hey, that was progress. “First question.” She took out a carton with a fancy looking fire elemental on the packet from her pocket and extended it to Rudy. “Cigarette?”

“No.” He was so used to being firm about this particular interaction that he forgot who he was talking to. “Thank you, though. I just can’t. It’s bad for me. Like, more than the usual amount of bad a cigarette is for someone.”

She nodded, and with a speed only comparable to that of a samurai sheathing their blade, she stabbed her barely smoked cigarette into the snow atop the porch’s banister. It made a satisfying sizzle before she took the nub, pulled a little black bag from her trouser pocket, and popped it inside. Rudy’s mouth hung open, as if he’d just watched someone perform a magic trick. “You know you could have just finished that, right?”

“I didn’t want to be rude.”

“I mean, sure,” He looked away, realising what he was about to say could sound strange, “but I kind of like second-hand smoke. It’s like… I can’t smoke myself, but whenever I’m keeping one of you guys-” he turned to her and spotted the eyebrow arching, “uh, smokers, I mean. Whenever you guys need a smoke break and I come outside to keep you company, it feels… like I’m participating? If that tracks? Like I’m not just some… square, or something.” 

Her eyebrow softened back downwards. “I wouldn’t call looking after your physical health the behaviour of a, quote-on-quote, ‘square’.”

He put his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. I guess. I just don’t like feeling left out of normal college student stuff.”

“What does normal college student stuff look like?”

Rudy smiled. “Is that one of your questions?” 

She frowned in contemplation. 

“Relax, I’m yankin’ your tinsel.” He took a moment to think about the question, before puffing and shrugging. “I dunno, parties? Drinking? Smoking? Dancing? Music?

“Coursework?”

“Exactly, putting off coursework to try and catch a few more z’s of sleep after a long night of drinking, smoking, dancing, and music!” She nodded, inscrutably. Rudy decided that the joke landed and continued on. “I guess I’m just saying it’s supposed to be a lot of fun. A lot of getting out there, of making stupid decisions, of not being so goddamn fragile all the time.”

“But you are fragile.”

For the first time in the conversation his smile dropped completely. That almost stung worse than the slap from earlier. Almost.

Continuing the streak of firsts, Carol’s face developed a deep, very scrutable, look of concern. “I’m sorry. I. I did not mean to hurt your feelings; I meant that quite literally. I was simply trying to ask how you are supposed to not be ‘fragile’ whilst you, you are, you can’t-” Rudy couldn’t help but enjoy the way he was using his own eyebrow to put her on the backfoot this time. That feeling quickly dissipated, however, when her look of worry morphed into one of despair. She pushed her hands into her face, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. “I apologise. I know how I come across. I’m very, deeply, utterly terrible at this sort of thing.”

“Talking?”

“Yes.” She replied, without a hint of irony. She let her arms drop to her sides. “It feels like every time I speak to anyone in class they freeze up and look for an excuse to run. Or they just look insulted.”

“Or you slap them in the face?”

“Pfft.” She gave him a wry smile. “You deserved that, and you know it.”

“Hah, yeah I guess I did, huh?” He grinned. 

At that moment, Rudy saw her features softening fully for the first time. It was like she’d been holding her breath for days and was finally taking a moment to exhale. The bashfulness of her smile, the way her ice-blues softened and became oceans of emotion; it was as if the cold night air had vanished altogether. She must have noticed how widely he was grinning in response because in less than a second, it all went away. She coughed into her hand, stood up straight, and her features returned to their statuesque firmness. “Apologies, I’d like to ask my second question, if that’s alright with you.”

“Fire away.” His grin refused to settle. Maybe it was the cold, but he could have sworn she began to blush a little as she turned to face the street and speak her next question aloud.

“Why exactly did you try to hit on me?”

Ah, crap. Really asking the easy ones, huh. “Right. Ok.” He planted his hands on the banister. The cold of the snow, even through his gloves, would be bracing enough to focus his thoughts if only for a moment. “So, uh, I guess I’ll just give you the play by play. I was standing in the corner on my ownsome. I guess since I’ve had, uh,” He coughed. “a ‘spotty’ attendance record so far no one really knew who I was, so I was just sitting like a lemon for the first half hour doin’ nothin’, saying hi to nobody. So I’m lookin’ around the room, trying to see if there’s literally anyone I know and I see you in the opposite corner, and you’re, you’re,” He glanced to see her reaction and immediately looked away. Her eyes were too beautiful and terrifying to look into for long. “Anyway. Asgore comes along out of nowhere, says ‘howdy’, pats me on the back and asks me how I’m doing. Oh, yeah, Asgore’s-”

She smiled. “I Know Asgore. We’re friends.” 

“Oh yeah?” Rudy remembered Asgore’s extensive defences of Carol back at his apartment. 

“Yes. He is the only one in class who talks to me, outside of when Professor Boom forces ritualistic group-work upon us.”

“Really? What do you two talk about?” She tilted her head, quizzically. “Oh, sorry, unless you wanna get back on topic.”

“No, no, it’s fine to ask. I’m just out of conversational practice. It’s nice.” She inhaled through her nose. “Well, usually it’s Asgore asking for help with the reading. He sees me as something of an… authority, on the subject of human-monster history.”

“And are you?”

“I get high marks, complete all of our set reading, and hand in my assignments on time. Anyone could do it.”

“I beg to differ, but go on!”

Air puffed out of her nose. Rudy decided it was in humour, not in exasperation. “Whatever the case, on our first day in class, Asgore came up to me, said ‘howdy’ in his traditional fashion and commented on the number of notes I had compiled from our first lecture. I admit I was a bit on guard, as usually people who comment on my bookishness tend to follow up with a rather glib statement on how much of a quote-on-quote ‘nerd’ I am, but…” She smiled. “He just asked if he could read my notes that afternoon.” A moment passed before she sniffed and tutted. “Of course, I told him absolutely not. If he wanted my help he would write his own notes, and I would do my best to help him through the challenging parts. He wouldn’t learn anything if he just regurgitated my work.”

Rudy laughed. “I can see why he took a shine to you.”

She squinted at him. “Is that sarcasm?”

“Oh no, no, not at all.” He thought about Toriel; the hot blooded, strong willed woman that she was. Asgore really had a thing for gals who’d put him in his place.

“Well. We have our study sessions, and it’s… nice. He is nice. Even if he is a terrible student.”

Rudy straightened up. “Woah, ok, gotta step in and defend his honour here. He’s trying his best, so let's nix the stupid talk.”

“I did not say he was stupid.” there was an edge to her voice. 

“Sorry. You didn’t. Could you explain?”

“Have you ever studied with Asgore?”

“Uhh.”

“You don’t need to answer that.” Phew. “Let me put it like this. Human-monster relations are complicated, to put it mildly. A lot of our history is war, death, distrust; and neither society wishes to accept any responsibility for any of it. Say you’re at the negotiating table. Say you have to make the first move to start brokering peace between our peoples. What would you say?”

Rudy put his hands to his mouth in finger-gun styled contemplation, breathed in, then let them go. “I have no freakin’ clue, honestly. I probably would resign real quick and tell the guy who put me in charge to pick better next time.”

She nodded. “This is still better than Asgore’s response.”

“And uh, what response was that exactly?”

She pressed a couple of fingers to her forrid, exhaling frustrated steam out her nose. “‘Would you like a cup of tea?’. When I asked if he had another answer he said: ‘I could do coffee?’.” 

“And… tea is bad?”

“It’s a refusal to engage with any of the hard questions. And essentially all of his answers to said questions go the same way. How do you address the pain? Tea. How do you address the anger? Tea. How do you move on? Tea. This is his problem. He wishes to be a negotiator but seems allergic to conflict of any kind.” 

“Ha. Yep, that sounds like Asgore.” 

“He is an exceptionally kind and thoughtful person, but he is deeply afraid of being disliked.” She looked sadly into the distance. “Perhaps this is why we have a bit of a kinship. We seem to have the opposite problems from one another.”

“You don’t seem unkind to me.” He realised he’d responded conspicuously quickly. “Um, from what I’ve seen of you so far.”

“I slapped you in the face on our first interaction.”

“Yeah, but I totally earned that.” He grinned as he scanned the hanging Christmas lights and decorations. “Besides, you like the holidays. That's the sign of a good egg if I ever saw one!”

“You have no idea.” There was a definite twinge of embarrassment in her smile. “Christmas is… very special to me.” The smile dropped. “I didn’t exactly have an easy experience of growing up, the way I was.”

“Yeah?”

“My parents didn’t understand my… mannerisms, I suppose. They could never understand why I didn’t smile as much as they did.” Her eyes drifted upwards to the lights. “But all those anxieties were put outside for Christmas. We’d just sit down, play silly games, eat good food, and enjoy being together despite everything. Sometimes I wish it could be like that all the time.” The eyes glazed for a moment before she shook her head and failed to make eye contact with Rudy. “Sorry. Definitely out of practice with talking; that was a lot.”

“Hey,” he managed to catch her eye and mustered up the softest, warmest expression he could. “I get it.”

Much to his joy, she blushed very hard and quickly took to fixing her hair, some of which had begun to fall around her ears. She cleared her throat. “Anyway, I thought I could make a better impression if I showed off my… festive side. But all I could do was stand in the corner, refuse to make eye contact with anyone and completely embarrass myself.”

“I mean, slappin’ someone isn’t so embarrassing if they deserve it, right?”

She stared at him for a moment. “Oh, yes. That was the embarrassing part.” Ok. Putting a pin in that for later. She straightened up and reaffirmed her stern look. “We’ve gotten off topic. Answer the question.” She perhaps realised she’d overcompensated a bit and let her shoulders drop a little. “Please.”

The more this woman spoke, the more the reason he tried to say hi in the first place made sense. “So. I ask Asgore about you, and immediately he has this excited look on his face and starts going on about how cool and smart you are and how, and I quote ‘you two would get along perfectly!’.”

She nodded, then gave Rudy a surreptitious smile. “Do you think he realised that he was profiling us?”

Rudy was not currently drinking anything, but managed to spit-take nonetheless. “Oh my god. Oh my god, man I didn’t even think about that.” 

“I mean, look at him and Toriel. He’s a fan of relationship-based symmetry as it stands, so-”

He was holding onto the banister for dear life, he was laughing so hard. “Hahahahaah! Oh! My god! Lady, you’re killin’ me!” 

She grinned at him with the perfect amount of devilish glee. “I think it would be best to assume innocence on Asgore’s part for now; and reserve the right to mercilessly taunt him about it depending on how things go forward.”

“Sure, sure,” He caught his breath and massaged his throbbing forehead, forcing himself to hold back more laughter. “Oh man.” He took a couple breaths. He could barely process what ‘how things go forward’ could have possibly meant, so he decided to put a pin in that too. “Ok. So, Asgore bigs you up a bunch before moving on to go nuzzle noses with Tori for the rest of the evening. So I go back to looking at you, and I guess… I dunno. I see someone who feels just as out of place at the party as I do. I think maybe you could… enjoy chattin’ with someone else, I suppose. So I take a step forward to try and talk to you. And then I realise I’m terrified and probably gonna stutter like I’ve gotten frostbite, so I head to the punch table to gain some… courage.”

“Oh dear,”

“Yeah, and me and alcohol aren’t, uh, friendly, so I try to be thoughtful and only have a little. So I do, and then I try to step towards you again. And then I freeze up again, so I-”

“I think I’m getting the picture,”

“And then I overcompensate wicked hard and call you-”

“Let's… not repeat what exactly you called me.”

The hot feeling that rushed across his face was even more uncomfortable than the cold. “So yeah. That’s what happened.”

“So. To recap,” the budding softness to her expression threatened to harden again. “You felt pity for me and wanted to cheer me up.”

He blinked. “Wait, you think you’re the one being pitied in this scenario? I thought I was punching way above my weight here! I needed like, three extra scoops of punch just to muster up the courage to even try to talk to ya’!” His words had the desired effect, the wry smile returning to her face. “I just thought we might have something in common, I guess.“ He winked. “You know, aside from the… obvious.”

“Yes, Mr Dreamurr, aside from the obvious.” 

They shared a chuckle and for a moment before taking a shared moment to enjoy the sounds of distant, still ongoing, christmas parties. Rudy watched little particles of fresh snow begin to cover the already inch deep street. It was a nice moment. He decided that this moment was even better with her next to him. He turned to her and stared, perhaps a little stupidly. The blue in her eyes was like a deep, beautiful ocean. He shook himself. “It’s pretty cold tonight huh?”

“I didn’t notice.”

God Damn, Carol was completely cooking him on the one liner front. He decided to take the wheel of the conversation before he fully melted on the floor in a puddle of hot embarrassment. “Ok. You’ve asked your questions, but before we get to your mystery, condition… thing, I think it’s only fair I ask a couple of my own, yeah?”

She slowly scratched her chin in thought, like an imp considering a mortal’s bargain. “That seems fair. Proceed.”

“Alright. First question. What was the most embarrassing part of tonight, if not the slapping me in the face thing?”

For once, she was the one freezing up. “Oh.” She looked away. “Ah. Well.” Her eyes were darting around like she was looking for an escape route. “It was, nothing, really. Nothing at all.”

“Come on, I answered honestly! Why don’t you take a crack at being in the hot seat, huh?”

She pouted crossly at him before taking a deep breath. “So. After I slapped you in the face, the irony of someone calling the quote-on-quote ‘ice queen’ of the class ‘hot stuff’ sank in, and I will be frank, I laughed quite hard.”

“Ahh, so you were caught enjoying my misery, is that it? Embarrassed about a bit of schadenfreude?”

“No, that is only the first part.” She bit her lip. “I. Have a very distinct laugh.”

“What is it, a snort? Uhh… a high pitched giggle? Somethin’ like that?”

“No.” She took a deep breath. “It’s the sort of laugh that. A certain. Festive. Red-clothed gentleman. Would have.”

“Oh.” It took him a moment. “OH! Oh, Hoho-”

“Yes. Like that .” She put her hands in her face. “I was completely beside myself, rolling on the floor with laughter. And now everyone knows I sound like Santa Claus.”

“You know, Tori did say something about you being in… quite a state.”

“Yes. I’m quite convinced she thought I had gone mad.”

“I’ll admit, it’s not the kind of noise I’d have expected coming from you.”

“Oh?” Her embarrassed expression shifted into one in the beginnings of taking offence. “And what exactly would people think I laugh like?”

“I dunno.” He put his hands in his pockets. “Regal-like. I mean, you’ve got the energy of a high-class kinda gal.”

“What does that look like to you? Fancy dress? An upturned nose? A good sneer?”

“No! No, I mean,” He puffed. “This is hard to explain, but when I look at you I just see someone who holds herself to a high standard. I wanna bow down just lookin’ at ya. Does that make sense?” 

Man, lay it on thicker, why don’t ya.

“I don’t,” Her smile returned. “but I’ll take that as a compliment.” She tilted her head, playfully. “What does a regal laugh even sound like, anyway?”

“I dunno. Like, uh…” He held his hands fly outward with exaggerated pomposity. 

“Ohohohohoho!”

She stared at him for a long while, mouth slightly open, before snorting, trying to hold it in, and failing to stop herself from laughing. 

“Hohohohohoho!!!”

He started to laugh properly now. “Heheheh! Hey, you know what, with a slight adjustment you’ll be sounding regal in no time!”

“Ohohohomygod , shush !” She put a hand over her mouth, trying to mask it.

He listened and laughed along with it for what felt like a couple minutes. There was something earnest and joyful to it that was so incredibly infectious. After they managed to finally repress their giggles, he sniffed and smiled at her. “It’s a damn nice laugh, ya’ know.”

“Please, it’s hideous.”

“No, no, I mean it. A laugh that makes you wanna chuckle along too is the best kind.”

“Well.” She looked down, sheepishly. “It’s the nicest thing I’ve been told about it in a long time. So thank you.”

“Anytime.” He kicked his heel. “So. Second question.”

She shook herself, as if trying to keep warm in the cold air. “Go on, I’m ready for it this time!” She regarded him with a competitive grin.

“So. Earlier you said we should mercilessly mock Azzy depending ‘on how things go forward’. What does ‘going forward’ mean, exactly?”

“Ah.” Her grin froze. “It seems I wasn’t as ready for it as I thought.” She sucked in air through her teeth. “So. It was to do with the final part of the bargain.”

“The one that determined whether or not you’d accept my apology?”

“Indeed.” She tried to keep eye contact with him, but he could tell it was a struggle considering how red she was getting in the process. “I was. I was wondering if. If you wanted to. Try again. That is to say, to try and. Woo me.”

“‘Woo’ you?”

“It’s absolutely fine if you don’t want to, I did slap you in the face and I am terrible, terrible company sometimes, and-”

“Carol.” She stopped. Rudy smiled the biggest, cheesiest smile before extending a hand to hers. “I wanna apologise for calling you a hot piece of work. You are… exciting, and deep, and kind. And if you’re interested, I’d love to take you to dinner sometime and get to know you better.”

She took his hand in hers, an ice-meltingly warm expression on her face. “I would be delighted… Mr…?”

“Oh, Holiday. Rudy Holiday.”

“Carol and Mr. Holiday.” She snorted. “Asgore… We really aren’t making it difficult for him to think we’d fit together are we?”

“No, ma’am, we are not.” He squeezed her hand. “Howsabout we make him feel real embarrassed about profilin’ us either way?”

“Absolutely.”

Fist to Door Caroling - Chapter 2 - Wallium - Deltarune (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]

Here's the AO3 link if you wanna rate it there! Help! I'm still bad at this!

[leiawritesstories]

rowaelin dating show fic?❤️ also i love your work!!

there aren't nearly enough heart emojis to express how ecstatic this ask made me feel ❤💕❤ here please have all of my love and a little something i whipped up 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

~~~~~~~~

The first date had been an absolute disaster.

Aelin didn't typically give such terrible reviews, but she was only being honest. The date with--what was his name again? Oh, right, Sam--had gone so poorly that even calling it a "trainwreck" would be generous. And she had even cut the guy some slack for being a half-nervous wreck the whole time.

Perils of dating The Bachelorette live on camera, or something.

Hell, even Aelin had taken weeks to get used to the eerie sensation of the cameras watching and recording everything, lurking in the background and waiting to send off their footage to some team of producers who'd no doubt edit a perfectly innocent exchange into sordid tabloid headlines. Never in a million years would she have guessed that she'd be chosen as the Bachelorette; also, never would she have guessed that she'd be enjoying the experience so much.

Since arriving at the shoot location, it had been a whirlwind of meeting the crew, negotiating what she was and was not willing to have filmed, negotiating social media, meeting her agent and manager, and getting a rundown on the twenty-four men who'd be competing for...well, for her. She'd received dossiers on each man and had read each file thoroughly, noting down the few that stood out to her.

Sam Cortland, 25, software designer. Fairly wealthy, boyishly attractive, had a charming dimple that appeared when he grinned, he was the only contestant who'd made her genuinely smile during the first episode.

Fenrys Moonbeam (yes, it was his actual name), 26, photographer and occasional male model. The man was a treat for the eyes, all height and muscles and espresso-toned skin and silky-soft golden curls that Aelin was jealous of. If nothing else, she'd have to steal his haircare routine.

And...Rowan Whitethorn, 28, entrepreneur--according to his file, at least. He hadn't hesitated to share that he was, in fact, the egregiously wealthy CEO of his own company, which he'd built from the ground up. The casual arrogance that had rolled off of him as he spoke about his business success was almost enough for Aelin to rethink her appreciation of his physical beauty.

Aelin sighed deeply as she strode up the front steps of her villa, painfully aware of the cameras tracking her steps, unlocked her front door, went in, and locked the door behind her. She'd been very clear that her villa was filming-free unless she invited a camera crew inside, and gods, she needed the space to just breathe. And kick her expensive shoes across the floor. And muffle a strangled scream in a designer throw pillow that probably cost more than her whole set of bedroom furniture.

Gods, that date with Sam had been an absolute nightmare. It had started off so well, with the two of them sharing easy conversation and laughing over the delicious dinner, but as soon as he'd said he wanted to take her on a "romantic stroll through the rose garden," Aelin had felt her stomach churn.

It was so...cliché. Painfully cliché. Whatever sparks she'd felt when she met Sam had been snuffed right out after that date.

Which left her two possible options: the gorgeous, flirtatious rogue whose slow grin could make her panties disappear, or the gorgeous, arrogant CEO whose dangerous smirk sent her heartbeat pounding.

Either way, she was headed straight for trouble.

[vibrantstarfire]

tell me more about your ocs 👁👄👁

BOY WILL I!!! :D i’ll stick with mercury for now bc i love her

mercury is actually mona le vaye. her secret identity and family structure is this:

to the public she’s mona le vaye, 16, famous for being famous, part of a wealthy tragic legacy.

her mom is insanely wealthy monroe le vaye, who was married to kennedy royce, who died 10 years ago and left her a young widow with two young children, mona and madonna — side note, monroe names all her daughters m names after famous paintings, obviously mona lisa and madonna and child. this works less well with her third daughter…

later monroe married a wealthy and kind dutch businessman who was a great dad to mona and madonna when they were young. monroe had a third daughter, who she named meisje (…which literally just means girl in dutch, bc she was named after ‘girl with the pearl earring’ … monroe is wealthy and thinks she’s cultures but really genuinely is not) — meisje usually goes by Bug or May (or Mayfly :P) instead

monroe le vaye is well known for being a new hollywood trainwreck which is fun for paparazzi but way less fun for her daughters who’ve grown up in this circus. it’s also why for the past 5 years, meisje was only raised by her dad in the netherlands. but he died young and so now it’s monroe and her 3 daughters. they’ve had 2 seasons of a keeping up with the kardashians style reality tv show.

for the superhero aspect of it:

kennedy royce was on a team and partnered with a man named carson. carson and kennedy both had sidekicks, carson a boy named jack, and kennedy’s sidekick was monroe. yes this was a weird grooming relationship situation. it’s part of why monroe is such a mess.

as the other sidekick, jack also got a pretty raw deal. in the super community he’s known for going off the rails and basically having to be asked to step down as a hero due to stupid mistakes (like showing up for missions hungover or still drunk) — partly bc of the ptsd of being told to leave kennedy behind to die in a mission gone wrong, and to save monroe and carson instead.

but jack gets his life together eventually. both of the girls call jack and carson their uncles — though they prefer uncle jax to uncle carson (i’ll get into that more another time). jack has a baby son who he adores. jack will also later go on to train mona when it turns out reality tv isn’t teaching her enough to stay alive.

for powers, mona and madonna both inherited variations of kennedy royce’s powers (phase/shapeshifting) as it’s the dominant gene. monroe’s power was creating and controlling magical materials, usually fabric. (conveniently she has a very profitable line of shapewear in her civilian identity…) … meisje doesn’t have powers but will later pretend to when she wants to follow her big sister into superheroing

mercury was kennedy royce’s old code name (for the liquid at room temperature properties of mercury, since he could stretch and change phase on a whim) — technically mona is mercury ii. her teammates often call her M or Em.

mona is very much a parentified oldest sibling. but when she leaves and starts investing all her time in superhero training, madonna becomes the parentified oldest sibling and takes care of bug.

for a physical description, mona is tan and has dark brown hair and brown eyes. her super suit is white with a silver mercury sign on her chest. (superhero symbols are seen as outdated but she’s trying to honor her dad’s legacy and bring it back — eventually she’ll go by the codename ghost and have a total redesign though)

if you’re feeling compelled…. who else are u interested in? (batting eyes at you so so so much thank you so so much for asking about them i love you anon do you want my firstborn?)

[seaside-writings]

Hello, again all you wonderfully, wicked people!

As we know black cats are an essential part of the spooky season as well as an essential part of everyday life! So in honor of that, I made a prompt list dedicated to one of my favorite black cats Salem Saberhagen, who in my opinion had some of the most iconic dialogue in TV history!

I hope you all like this prompt list, and I hope it helps you create! And if you do use it, please credit/tag me so I can check out what you've made!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 🖤🎃🕸🔮

P.s. I did change some of the dialogue so it would flow easier when it came to writing for different types of characters.

“You’re the only one who understands me,” “Yeah, but it doesn’t mean I care,” - “What are you doing?” “Nothing!” “You’re in a chatroom again pretending to be a woman, aren’t you?” “I like the attention.” - “I have lighted the fuse. Now I just have to wait for the kapowie! Muahahaha!” - “I'm sorry. I didn't want to hurt you; I just wanted to rule you,” - “You’ll be able to look back on all of this and get revenge,” - “Show me the tuna!” - "I never cared for the name Mildred," - “And let’s give a big warm welcome to sadness,” - “Someone’s gonna end up crying. Probably me,” - “Finally, someone whose life is more pathetic than mine!” - “You don't have to order me a pizza, but make it half sausage, half clam,” - “I need a little fresh air and a latte,”

“As long as you drop everything and stay focused on me, I should be fine,” - “Dogs guard. Cats watch and judge,” - “When I’m happy, I eat! When I’m upset, I eat!” - “Hooray, the toast is stuck! Danger, here I come!” - “They left behind. Be strong. Don’t cry,” - “Still want to take over the world?" - "Cheetos should be served at room temperature, you know,” - “Curse my sarcastic nature!” - “If you misbehave for just one instant, I’ll cut you, man,” - “Dear lord, you picked up a guy at the bus station,” - “It's the 90s, no one eats mortals anymore,” - “I’m rich! Rich, I tell you!” It’s only a few hundred dollars,” “I’m well-off! Well-off, I tell you!” - “Let's destroy everything that's dear to him. Let's indoctrinate him into the cathedral of agony,” “I'm going to write him a very stern letter,” “You're a regular Mad Max, aren't you?” - “A tassel! Don’t you toy with me, you saucy minx!” - “Wow, you must feel like a huge loser,” - “Would you be terribly upset if I threw up in one of your shoes?” - “You laugh, you die,” - “I will not be ignored!” - “All I’ve done all day is eat, sleep, and stare off into space. What an awful existence,” “Hey! I don’t dump on your lifestyle," - “Could you either remove the bandages or kill me?” - “Sorry, thirty waffles is my limit,” - “You think a mirrored ceiling would be too much?” - “Why didn’t you stop them!?” “I was busy,” “Doing what!?” “Playing with my scrunchie,” - “We need a plan,” “How about we weep uncontrollably,” - “I urge you to accept me as your ruler!” - “I’ll be having a quiet weekend, curled up with Memoirs Of A Geisha,” - “Delivery. I want a pizza as fast as possible! And don’t forget the crazy bread!” - “And your face is a bit of a trainwreck too,” - “Tell Elton John he can’t start singing now,” - “I wasn’t always the stud muffin I am today,”

“You owe her an apology. Now! “I’m thinking of how to word it,” “Try 'I’m sorry,'” “Somehow, that just doesn’t feel right…” - “I’d rather be locked in the dishwasher again,” - “Does she know who you are?” “Why does everyone think that’s a necessary part of love,” - “I’m the ultimate bad example,” - “Don’t ask me, I was an English major,” - “Hey, leave the sarcasm to the professionals,” - “Get a real job. And some pants,” - “I’m a cat, I’m curious, so kill me,” - “Still want to take over the world?” “Yes! Wait, no! I meant no!” - “I’d be more nervous if I weren’t so good-looking,” - “Hey chicks, what’s the haps?” - “I’m trying to set the world record for grooving,” - “Sometimes I just like to hear myself talk,” - “You know me any excuse to wear taffeta,” - “Oh, right, I forgot. I’m an animal, I have no self-control,” - “Why am I finding it hard to summon sympathy?” - “Wow, I love a woman who can take charge!” - “I’ll be downstairs creating a distraction,” - “I’m trying to concentrate on expanding my intellectual horizons,” - “Wake up, woman! You’re not a princess, you’re a dragon!” - “Her new obsession is doing wonders for my wardrobe!” - “Please hurry! I’ve been in here for over an hour!” “Why didn’t you call us sooner?” “It wasn’t a problem until I ran out of peanut brittle!” - “So it's true. Taste does skip a generation,” - “I want to say something wise and wonderful right now, but I can't think of anything. Except I love you, and I hope the band knows some Ohio Player,” - “BOO!” “You look ridiculous,” “You were terrified, and you know it,” - “Halloween. Is it just another date on the calendar, or is a state of mind, or is a state of… being?”

[uniiiquehecrt]

Plz explain then the travesty that is love and thunder

A trainwreck directed by an egotistical six-year-old in a leech of a man's body who thinks he's a screenwriter and still plays pretend with his uwu self-insert OC.

.... real talk, though, in short:

The real travesty of Love and Thunder is that Thor is already made of love and thunder, and simultaneously Jane is the love to his thunder, and the MCU, through taika wai-feck-off, decided he can be neither of those things, and have no nice things. Thor is the most tragic character in the ENTIRETY of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and yes, I do think more tragic than Wanda.

He has lost :

his entire home planet

his people

his entire family of four (no hela does not count he was not connected to her and should have been odin's sister)

before which he lost his brother (his platonic soulmate, to boot) a total of 3 times emotionally, two of those physically

he lost his ENTIRE friend group because his half-sister murdered Volstagg, Hogun and Faendral; he never reconnected with Sif

his only good mentor/parental figure (heimdal) was stabbed through the heart in front of him

he lost his dignity, his crown, his birthright (voluntarily and otherwise)

he lost his self-worth, his sense of direction (bc the writers legitimately thought his arc was about stepping down from the crown instead of making it his own and growing into it in his own way, by his own merits, at his own pace and gave it to some literally no-name side character that showed up for one movie and never respected thor in the first place to even earn his title from him smh)

and taika's idea of rectifying any of this .... is to give him some random child he doesn't know, that he doesn't care for, and manipulate him into taking her under his wing not because of the kindness and limitless love of his own heart even after shutting himself down post!endgame, but because jane asked him to as her dying wish — and then say that THAT is his happy ending.

Tell me why Thor, the longest standing of the Big Three, the king of the stars, the hero who is by all respects the embodiment of love, gets no companionship, no friends, no home, no place to belong, when Tony got a hero's send off and Steve got to be with an alt!dimension Peggy.

[clarenecessities]

ummmm what about. uhhh those women from the supergirl show. now that i type that im pretty sure one of them is supergirl

oh, buddy. yes, one of them is supergirl.

disclaimer: i have never and will never watch the cw's supergirl, bc i love myself

What made you ship it?

well it TURNS OUT that there's a lot of overlap in Supercorp shippers and Catradora shippers, for some reason. can't imagine why! [puts a blanket over my venn diagram's cage]

so i went a little insane after she-ra came out (you remember) and read about 6k fics, just scrolling through the tag with some filters on & clicking on anything that looked interesting. it was a very interesting time in our lives. a lot of me going "huh? whah?" in call. birth of the scorpia disclaimer.

but eventually i ran out of she-ra fics. and i like... i couldn't stop, you know? and it turns out that some of the best she-ra authors have written a lot of supergirl fics. so it kept coming up when i was on author-specific binges. and i got curious! i'm a curious guy!

and then it turns out they're really cute >:( they're adorable, damn it.

ik i'm never gonna be able to drag you into this hole with me, since you already have a designated CW trainwreck, but if you're ever feeling bored the first one i ever read was really fucking funny and requires zero knowledge of canon. i didn't know alex's pronouns until halfway through bc i'd never heard of her (literally supergirl's sister). initially i clicked on it bc "superhero pretends to date her civilian identity" sounded hysterical but like... kara is so sweet, and so socially inept. and lena is a human disaster who just wants to help. and they both have crippling abandonment issues and no chill whatsoever

What are your favorite things about the ship?

i like that they appreciate each other. the version of them that i've constructed piecemeal from other people's opinions is such that like... they've both been pretty miserable, right? lena watched her mom die when she was like 4 years old and then got adopted by the luthors, kara watched her planet explode & pawned off by clark (who was like 30 years older than he was supposed to be bc of DC bullshit) on some human family and had to pretend to be normal for a decade or so.

and they both hide that pretty well, kara with kindness and lena with unapproachable businesswoman...ness... but they're both immediately fascinated by each other. and they're both sort of genuine with each other, even when they're in 'nice but bumbling civilian' or 'ruthless luthor' mode. so where it gets interesting for me is those moments they reach a mutual understanding of something, or where they trust each other in spite of Every Other Thing.

in like their first meeting lena says she's just a woman trying to make a name for herself outside of her family & asks if they can understand and kara is like "🥺 yeah..." and like they were just kind of fucked from there. sigh. you don't know how good you have it with riverdale polycule man. fuckin CW.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

i have many but the one that comes up most often isn't an opinion, it's a fact.

“khap zhao rrip” is fucking nonsense. it does not mean 'i love you'. it's SVO instead of VSO and zhao is a noun why are you even including kyrptahniuo if you're just going to find-and-replace random words.

listen. listen to me. zhaoivodh khap rrip. it is literally easier than french. nobody fucking does it right logan it makes me feel insane

[misdre]

day: five. book: read. i: scream and yell and ramble incoherently. i had to stop after chapter 24 because i was at a point of shouting OH GOD HELP ME out loud, alone in my room

and yes i repeatedly lose my mind over the sixth, again, all day every day i continue to lose it

hooh. where are we. camilla dropping at the ninth's to see if gideon's really in a coma because "my necromancer talked to your necromancer and my necromancer said you should be dead. well you seem to be talking so it's probably not coma" gideon and camilla are an incredible combo, team 69 fucker in the house, would snort up the mixture of the four like coke if i could

but also, gideon making a "your mum" jab at someone who has two dads,

me making some kind of short-circuit ZZRRTTPP ZRRRTPP noises at camilla firing lasers at the suggestion of her being friends with dulcinea, sorry but i! love it i love it i love it i love her being jealous and her being possessive of palamedes, i. love . it! yes yes yes yes

and then they go over to the others and the minute she's in palamedes's vicinity again camilla relaxes hahihihi hahihi hahaha hihihii hahihihii (love gideon even paying attention honestly)

by the way camilla's way of being is repeatedly compared to a bird, and it's been different types of birds for different occasions too. that's such a quirky little thing and a very lovely one

this is such a delicious part of the book, much more so than i really remembered, but then again i wasn't an insane cackling whore on my first read so here we are. a lot of back-and-forth between different houses, all their relations showing is so much fun to witness. coronabeth kinda coming apart from her seams, she's just trying to make things go nicely while ianthe and judith repeatedly shoot her down with NO LET'S BE CHAOTIC (ianthe) or NO LET'S BE MILITARY (judith) and corona is just a sad puppy like :( nuuuu stahp iiiiitt. and all try to drag palamedes into it in turns who is TRYINg to tell them to COUNT THE FUCKING KEYS JUST COUNT THE KEYS GUYS. GET ON WITH THE GAME. COUNT. THE. KEYS but everyone is too savage to care about this nerd being correct

in the middle there's a bit of gideon following the sixth into a fucking morgue and palamedes casually groping magnus's corpse while they converse. out of all the necromancer things in this book this is maybe the necromancerest to me honestly

when you talking to your new acquaintance and realise you both crushing on the same girl: 🫣

also by the way. gideon the humongous lesbian repeatedly bringing up just how beautiful palamedes's eyes are. he really is a pretty boy isn't he

just love this end of chapter line tbh but the part humouring me is gideon being just four years older than the fourth(wow weird sentence.) when i look at the fanworks in this fandom, i sometimes just kiiind ooofff feel like the character ages are. how should i put this. not treated with particular interest. many of the characters really are just kids, harrow and gideon aren't exactly adults. the fourth get called tragic because they're smol but all the rest are too, they just kids. the fifth and the seventh are really the only clear adults in here and UHHH that didn't work out well for them

appreciative silence for the himbo that is naberius tern.

chapters 23 and 24. magnificent. effervecent. sublime. where do i even start? well looking at my notes i start from appreciating that we have the first (i think??) glimpse into the terrible inevitable trainwreck combo that is harrowhark with ianthe. and it's over looking at some teeth. ("dental facts" as gideon puts it)

while reading this passage i squinted, then looked at the dictionary, then went back to this and same, same boy same (do i look like i remember the names of bones in a foreign language. i still don't know what's a fucking hyoid, i mean i assume that's the only part palamedes understood but i don't)

i maybe should refrain from commenting on every single thing about the whole second vs sixth squabble but i am……. obsesa in this beautiful thing. i am a little sucker for when everyone is underestimating a character for looking unassuming and then they unleash murder on earth. everyone telling palamedes to not make camilla fight marta because marta will beat her librarian slacks ass to the moon and beyond. and he just sits there like! we doin' it bitcheeeess go loud cam and cam goes and has a fucking meat cleaver for an off-hand weapon and annihilates marta and afterwards palamedes flies off the handle at the second sooo haaaaard because they hurt his camilla and also are stuck-up fuckos, this scene rustles my meat hard also if you know what i mean. i read my books out loud to myself because i'm a freak and i think all my neighbours might have heard me emulating palamedes here from the bottom of my heart WAH WAH WAH

and this is where we truly dip into the beautiful beautiful team 69 energy. it gives me shivers honestlyyyyy we have harrowhark standing up for the sixth because camilla is hurt (!!!!!) we have also palamedes saying he trusts harrowhark (!!!!!!!!) and uum we also have gideon opening her mouth in front of other people for the first time just to bring the name sex pal into this world (which. promptly makes camilla's arm start squirting out blood again) so truly like good and beautiful things do happen in the world? (it actually took me some time to realise gideon had been talking to the sixth all along........)

though what also happens is palamedes saying he will "wet himself lavishly" which i maybe could have lived without seeing with my own two eyes

SILAS YOU CAN'T FUCKING SAY THINGS LIKE THAT

palamedes.

also may choose to treat what camilla says as a joke because i need my rosy fanfiction reality of him admiringly watching her spar at the spire

a literal teenager: "xXx!!!💀MEGATHEOREM💀!!!!xXx" the most academically correct nerd ever in the universe: "yes approved. megatheorem it is"

GIDEON!!!! HUGGING!!!! HARROW

ok at this point i was just hollering at the book. having to re-read just about every line because everythign was causing an explosive screaming with delight (EXCEPT, except to have cuddly warm feelings about isaac braiding jeannemary's hair, wtf were they always this precious??? i LOVE them)

i'nm……….. i'm ok. that's it that's the fifth day of re-reading gideon the ninth.

unfinished inbred who passed an exam oh my my fgofödöfl,mgdk

[albiclalepsza]

WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?

Ah yes, political discourse.

enough rizz to convince a cult-like following to drink poisoned Kool Aid

Taylor Swift girlboss psyop

from her hand-selected vaccine shill boyfriend to her DINK lifestyle

Once again, thank all the higher powers that I wasn't born in the States, so I can just watch this flaming trainwreck unfold from afar and wait for it to burn me when the effects of that brainrot reach Europe.

I'd love to go back to 1980, grab a guy who voted for Reagan, show him what the political climate has become, and then beat him to death for voting for Reagan.

Also, I went to the tweet itself and it turns out that the rizz comment is a journalistic addition, not a part of the tweet.

Ngl, seeing rizz used in an article makes me want to gouge my eyes out

Here's the full article if anyone wants to gaze at this work of art

[phoenixborn]

The lack of snapping, furthermore actually receiving a somewhat normal but still very flawed answer was surprising. Maybe someone truly saw through the human appearance?

“Yeah, no. If you were trying to pass it off as feudalism, she would be a vassal to you, indeed military service but in exchange for fief. By that logic, Pride should be her ring. Heard and seen her sacrifice a lot for you too, it would be a fair compensation.”

“She doesn't have full governing control because there are many higher ranked beings once human whom she would kill without a heartbeat. Yet she doesn't and knowing my...vengeful wicked blood, it isn't out of mercy. Presumably you shoved that vicious power into her -yes I can see the damage it caused-, her only obligation would be military service. If she had agreed to that deal in the first place.”

“Trying to keep this place standing, functioning despite the limits is not her obligation, but bet it comes handy to you that someone stepped up in front of the trainwreck you could give less fucks about. And not even having her name to her rightful achievements.” the rundown ended with a slight bite in her tone “I might not be the warlord she is, but I still have eyes. This will eventually explode into your face in such level you won't ever see coming. Not today. Not tomorrow. Perhaps not for an another few decades. But her chains are straining more each day and you are running out of time.” her words betrayed her appearance, confident wisdom, prediction without the slightest fear or shadow of doubt shouldn't spill from someone in her twenties dressed as a rockstar from the 80s.

“What's it to me?” Cindy mused; indeed she should be elated at her suffering. That her childhood demon, now a literal one was forced to serve a system she once fought to topple.

“Blood doesn't become water.” came the translated Hungarian saying as explanation. “Still my ancestor and while I have my own issues with her; I don't stand for what she's going through.” the entity concluded before turning her attention fully at Lucifer

“What happened to you?” Cindy asked so gently as if she had known him for eons. Which...in a different form, she did.

“Such passion; all turning into ashes.” half sentences as the Eternal Fire's memories slowly drifted in her mind, some hazy, some of them sharp as if it happened minutes ago.

Jade green overtaken by sparkling orange sheen as she fully gazed at and into him: the very first physical sign she allowed to show she was...something else.

“I have seen your fall, brilliant Morningstar. A beautiful tragedy of the Universe, made even more bitter by the fact you were right.” her voice shifted, coming from everywhere, yet without mockery. Half galaxy eyes only held sadness at the snapped potential; she knew how it felt way more than one would ever suspect after such display.

@phoenixborn asked: For Lucifer. Unfortunately. “Sooo why is my distant relative controlling, holding together this filth of a Ring instead of you?” the beyond disrespectful question came as easy as if she had asked what his favorite color is. Besides the bite, there was also genuinely curious undertone to it, the young woman not caring the slightest that technically she could be considered an intruder. So what if she liked this pocket dimension?

" There are like, so many reasons. Three biggest are that this is how feudalism works, I was bored, and because I have better things to do. I dunno which is the truest answer, figuring that kind of thing out is boring. " Sure, he'd been asked this question by a strange being he could tell wasn't of Hell. She was something else. Perhaps older than Hell itself, if that was even possible.

As far as he knew, the world that would become known as Hell existed since he came into existence before there was even time. It served as a dumping ground for rejected ideas, or places to experiment a little before implementing them into the realities that "mattered". Could something be older than that?

Or did she come into existence at the same time? A direct result of God's actions? Like Leviathan?

" But what's it to you? Distant relatives are hardly something to keep tabs on, let alone care about. I mean, fuck, I couldn't care less about my distant relatives nowadays. "