#Ohhh the choices we must make

[doodle17]

I just drank some soda and my throat is feeling suspiciously itchy

Uh oh

[fruitydiaz]

i do not ❌ have daddy issues. i met my dad’s childhood friends as an adult and realized we have similar issues with him due to who he is as a person and went. are you my dads now 👉🏼👈🏼 which is a completely normal and healthy thing to think

[mellowwillowy]

𝐃𝐮𝐭𝐲 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐬

Your lover is forced to work far away from you and they are just not having it! They should be breathing the same air as you and not be put far away! Alas, they don't have a choice but to finish this errand quick.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 is not having it. Being away from you for a long time for this silly field trip wannabe? Why must his loyal, mafia ass-shit client get himself into another trouble that requires him to work on-site, away from the house, away from you?

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will actually make a manual on handling every possibility that he could think of happening to you and hand it to his men and the maids working. What to do if Spouse doesn't want to eat? What to do if Spouse is suddenly sick? What to do if Spouse is throwing tantrum-

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 bets that anyone who upset Spouse while he was away will have their fingers removed, the number of fingers removed depends on how fatal their mistake was although he was positive that his and this annoying Mafia Ringleader's men are trained enough to prevent that from happening.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will get you some gifts, lots of gifts. Really, he's a simple man. Oh and if by chance you two manage to have children, they only get 1/10 what he gets for you. Cry about it, brats.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 will turn all explosive toward anyone who slows down his work, your average angry demanding boss except that he doesn't explode with illogical bullshits. Might accidentally smack Kaspar (the client) once right in his face out of fuming anger.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐋𝐚𝐰𝐲𝐞𝐫 𝐇𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝 who will be all clingy (rare, very rare) once he gets home because dude. He was away for some time, looking at all these mf faces that were not even you. Give him lots of cuddles, and kisses and just treat him like a puppy for today because he will return to normal again the next day, IT'S YOUR ONLY CHANCE.

"Woah, you get a lot for me, dear. How about I share some with the kids?" (If you have it) "Sure, but I doubt they can use any of it." Yulian replies nonchalantly as he watches you unwrap everything. He is a menace for purposely picking up stuff the kids won't be able to use (haha!).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 gets all grumpy for it! Do they think it's fun having to trick you into allowing him to go on this shitty field trip? Ohhh come on now, you know he works as some sort of programmer or hacker, one that definitely doesn't need him to work ON SITE!!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will have to force both of your friends (and his) to take care of you. As much as you all are close to each other, he is not a fan of letting them watch you in his stead. Sure, this close friend of yours is used to taking care of you, you once lived with him after all.

But the jealousy factor of not being able to manage everything is still there! And his childhood friend, she might have a bad influence on you for the month he is away! Sure, your friend will not allow that but he's just skeptical of everyone! He doesn't trust anyone but him holding the leash to your coll- ekhem, watching you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will get all explosive, irrationally too. Not only toward people who slow his work down but to all his men. Trust me, it was hell for everyone. One wrong word and a punch will meet their face~

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will actually spare some time to get gifts for you and the others, of course, they only get a portion of what he gets for you. Will smile for once after a while at the thought of you unwrapping the presents eagerly and scare his men for a moment (Is boss finally losing it?)

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 will try his best to come home unscratched. Work is tough, yes but seeing you chiding him in worry is tougher! The more bruised up he is, the harder it'll be for him to slip out like an eel next time!

"Are you seriously only giving us these after all the troubles we have, taking care of your little friend?!" "God, look at what he got for you, let's swap." "Nuh-uh, get lost, Lemon." Blue cackles at the sight of you beaming from the gifts he hand-picked for you. Ah right, the gifts for the others are picked by his men since he can't be bothered about it.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐇𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 is not a shady asshole like 𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 so no field trip.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is rather indifferent about this. What can he do about this? Pass it and have people shoot him daggers from every angle for being irrational? Oh lol no, mon chèri. He values his life as much as he values yours.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will station all his men to keep you safe and give everyone notice of 'whoever fucks up will have their head hung'. Effective enough to ensure the maids from doing anything dumb to you.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is not as wary as Yulian but he is also not a lenient one as well. You get what the others get. Fuck around while he's away and find out what he has in store for you. Definitely not a pleasant one.

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will surprisingly get something for you though just one. Quality over quantity, he'll quote. He was just too busy and unbothered to get something for you out of no occasion going on. Besides, he could just get you some when he is more relaxed and not so on guard like this. Wouldn't want to get all bruised up or even dead just because he is in a hunt for presents!

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 is as normal as usual. No explosive behavior, this is his 'daily' work. He's used to being away from you and he is used to being absent from your presence. (Bro literally wait for you to awaken from your coma).

𝐘𝐚𝐧! 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 will smile at the sight of you unwrapping the said gift. He is content enough to see you awake and reacting to his gift, either with a scowl or a smile, it doesn't matter. What matters is that you are awake to see what he has bought for you.

"You know, I've always wished you could at least wake up and see the mountain of gifts I had prepared for you. But then I realized, no mountain of surprises would ever wake you up so I dusted it all down as a log of firewood." "You are just making up that story so that I will feel romantic about being given just a TRINKET?" 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐫 looks away from you comically while you shake him hard. That said, he means every word of it. (Angst baby)

Note: I am rolling, why is everyone here so petty? Yulian to his (if he has) kids, Blue to Lemon and Grape while Eleanor just 👨🏻‍🦯

[relaxxattack]

Piggybacking off the last anon, what is it you like about Jane so much? I find my feelings on her kind of mixed but I lean towards positive.

okay i haven’t read act six in probably like 5 years so bear with me here. *cracks knuckles*

jane is sooo so interesting and it’s really a shame people miss like everything fun about her.

pre-scratch she used her detective work to literally succeed at tearing down the crocker cooperation, to the point that HIC has to fucking abandon ship and head into another universe to have another shot at her evil empire. pre-scratch jane is also fucking hilarious! if you didnt enjoy her antics with john as nannasprite you must just have no heart

meanwhile HIC breaches a new universe, and her FIRST fucking order of business is to NEUTRALIZE JANE CROCKER because of how goddamn detrimental she was to HIC’s plans the first time around.

not ONLY does HIC pump subliminal messaging and brainwashing into nearly every aspect of jane’s life, she also tries to straight up mind control her basically whenever possible! she ALSO sends assassination attempts after jane 24/7! (people will seriously try to say that jane lived a safe normal life… as if she wasn’t almost killed by walking into her backyard.) this is because HIC is fucking scared of jane, as she very well should be!

jane is also NOT a boring weepy annoying crybaby like everyone and their mother complains about. jane is literally the most fucking supportive friend and emotion-repressing dumbass you could ever hope to meet. jane combines john’s emotional repression and jade’s intentional cheerfulness together into one of the most fucked up cases of emotional repression in the whole comic

act 6 suffers from a LOT of shitty writing choices, but it’s not jane’s fault the whole act turns into a soap opera— and she’s ALSO not the only one who acts all soap-opera-y either! literally all of the alpha kids suffer from this, people just like jane the least so they project it all onto her. despite the fact that she did her very fucking best to NEVER talk about her feelings, to the point where she ONLY started telling people about shit when she was mind-controlled or took mind altering substances to make her do so! and you can say “ohhh that’s stupid she shouldn’t repress things in the first place how dumb” but, one she’s sixteen, and two, everyone eats that shit up when it comes from like. literally any other character.

people (cough hs2 writers) act like she would actually be “pushy” with a relationship on jake— as if she wasn’t literally the one who helped him make the decision to explore dating dirk?? because she thought it was the right thing to do???

jane is incredibly thoughtful and mature and people really throw all of those traits out of the window with preference for a version of the story where she Comes Inbetween Their Fave Gay Pairing as if she wasn’t, again, the one who got them together. jane is also extremely interesting in terms of queerness; she’s got the makings of a really interesting arc, not to mention she’s the only human girl that dresses mainly masc! there’s a lot there that people just don’t care to explore.

people just have less patience for the prospit kids in general. not to mention homestuck fans love to be misogynistic and berate jane for stuff they love the men doing, or claim she’s coming between them when she’s not, etc etc. and then because no one was writing fun meta posts about her, nobody ever rereads the comic to grab little scenes or lines to expand the online discussion about her! and then because there’s no discussion about her, people assume she’s boring and don’t go looking for bits to start discussing, which cycles on and on forever until we have the ripple effects we see of that misogyny today. which mostly consists of, “oh i hate jane because she was a villain is hs2”, or, “i know hs2 isn’t canon but i still don’t care for jane because she doesn’t do anything that interests me.” (and she’s only not interesting because of the cycle i mentioned before causing NO ONE to have meta discussion about her).

idk, it’s been a while since ive read so i could be talking out my ass but that’s what i’ve got.

TL;DR: jane is fucking COOL, she just suffers from intentional fandom ignorance. and she’s also a canonically hot, fat, masc woman, so i don’t know what else you could possibly want.

[hey-its-jacob-lol]

JacobLOL and Kirb Presents: The Chaotic Route

*Our story begins in Equestria. Discord, The master and Lord of Chaos is up to his usual chaotic tricks annoying anyone and everyone all day long. He made the Apple family's orchard come to life and ran away from the farm. He made Twilight Sparkle's books fly around at such a fast speed that they all eventually knocked Rainbow Dash of the sky. He stuck Rarity's Mannequins onto the ceiling and he even covered Pinkie Pie's own home with a chocolate flood.

Anyway, eventually, the complaining eventually got so out of hand, or hoof, that Fluttershy had no other choice but to confront her friend.*

Fluttershy (rather annoyed): "Discccoord. What have you been up to?"

Discord: "Hoho! Why would you possibly want to know that Fluttershy? It's been pretty lacking, I must say."

Fluttershy: "Well, that's not what everypony else is saying. They're all coming up to me and complaining about the stuff you've done!"

Discord: *scoffs* "Like what?"

*Fluttershy then replied with all the antics that were mentioned earlier.*

Discord (awkwardly): "Ohhh right, that."

Fluttershy: "Yes. That."

Discord: "Oh, come on, Fluttershy! At least I didn't hurt anyone!"

Fluttershy: "No, you didn't directly. But you've could've cost both Rarity and Pinkie Pie their jobs! What would've happened then?"

Discord (muttering): "I wouldn't mind, I think I did worst to Applejack."

Fluttershy: "What was that?!"

Discord (realising): "Um, nothing!"

*Discord gave Fluttershy a big grin, and Fluttershy sighed.*

Fluttershy: "Look, Discord, I understand why you need to be chaotic. It's a part of your nature, and it keeps you alive."

Discord: "Why thank you for being so thoughtful, Flutter-"

Fluttershy: "HOWEVER... Surely, there's a better way for you to use your magic without getting on anyone's nerves."

Discord: "Hmpf! You think you know so much about being a Draconequus, don't you?"

Fluttershy: "I try my best, Discord. I try because I care about you and I know that you're now reformed, but don't forget, we do still have the Elements of Harmony, and even though it would give me a great amount of guilt, I'd have to seal you back into stone again if you were to ever go too far again."

*Fluttershy sighed as her eyes darted towards the ground. After a few awkward seconds, Discord eventually spoke up.*

Discord: "I think some ponies just need to accept that I'm still going to be somewhat chaotic."

Fluttershy: "That's not the point, Discord."

Discord (rather frustrated): "Then what is it then, Fluttershy?!!"

Fluttershy: "It's about me making sure you don't end up on the wrong side of things again, and it's also so you quit pestering my friends!"

Discord: "Oh, come on now, Fluttershy. You know they're used to it by now."

Fluttershy: "Well, maybe they are, but that doesn't make it any less annoying for them."

*Discord pouted.*

Discord: "You ponies are no fun sometimes."

Fluttershy: "It's not that we aren't fun, or that we don't enjoy your antics from time to time. It's just that there's a time and place for them. There's needs to be order at least at some points of the day. Y'know, like order."

Discord: "You mean the one thing I truly go against? You ponies really care about your harmony, don't you?"

Fluttershy: "I mean, it's been around our culture for so long, it's bound to."

Discord (muttering): "Right..."

*Discord lowered his head.*

Discord: "You do everything you can to fit in, and yet you still can't."

Fluttershy: "Discccoord. Don't be like that. I'm your friend and so is everyone else."

Discord: "But you don't know what it's like to be me and unless I actually turn you into a draconequus, which I don’t even know if that's possible, you'll never know."

*Discord then lifted he head, as he looked into sky.*

Discord: "That's why I enjoyed being around that jester, Jevil. He, too, was a creature of chaos. He understood me and my own struggles for freedom. Sadly, I haven't really heard much from them since I was kicked out of his little group while you and the others were fighting them."

Fluttershy: "Do you miss Jevil then?"

*Discord sighed.*

Discord: "Yes."

Fluttershy: "Well, why don't you try making up with Jevil? That could help make you feel better!"

Discord: "I suppose I could, if I really wanted to... Then again, the supposed 'Dark World' seems pretty fun too..."

*Suddenly, Discord gasped as a light bulb went off.*

Discord: "Sweet Celestia, that's it, Fluttershy!!! I know where I can go to continue being my chaotic self without interfering with the ponies duties! Oh, thank you, Fluttershy!"

*Discord hugged a rather confused Fluttershy.*

Fluttershy: "Umm... You're welcome?"

Discord: "Now, let us set forth for The Dark World!"

Fluttershy: "Wait, wha-"

*Discord, with Fluttershy in his arms, summoned a door that shun with a bright light onto the other side and with a now confident smile on his he jumped through the said, all while Fluttershy was tagging along with him.*

*Meanwhile, it was yet another day for Kris and her friends. That being a day of boring classes with Alphys and Berdly being annoying. Except for the fact that Berdly hasn't been seen at all for several days. Not that it bothered Susie or Kris, really. In fact, they couldn't really care less.*

*Anyway, everyone was pretty bored. There was nothing fun to do, and Kris, Noelle, and Susie could really only tolerate Sans for so long.* So, bored out of their minds, they decided to head to The Dark World, where our story truly begins... Once our teams switched outfits and found themselves in Castle Town, they were greeted by Lancer.*

Lancer: "Susie!"

*Lancer rode up to Susie and the others with a big smile on his face.*

@somedude111111

[doki-doki-imagines]

Hello! I came up with an idea for bi-han and Tomas. What would your reaction be like waking up naked next to your secret crush? As if they had a dinner with more friends the night before and they overindulged in alcohol, which led them to this situation. You don't have to do it if you don't want to ;)

bonus at the end!

Bi-Han: -Waking up with a headache pounding in your head is already terrible. -But also turning around and having your crush face at one inch of distance, nose already brushing against each other, is a heart attack inducing experience. -You don't scream, soul already left your body long ago, but you stop breathing, worried you may wake up the grumpy grandmaster. -You don't remember anything about the previous night, but you still have clothes on. -But these aren't yours. -This is gonna be remembered as the day you grew more than one lock of white hair. -You spot your clothes on a chair, so you lift up slowly as you can, trying to regain your clothes and possibly disappear without leaving any trace. Forever. -"What do you think you are doing?" It's a voice you recognize way too well. The clearness of it not matching the owner face, tho. Eyes half closed and hair perfect as a nest. His very cold hand grabbed your ankle, stopping you in your place. "Home? Under the ground? Disappear?" -Now he looks better at you, onyx eyes piercing your body, mouth slightly open trying to elaborate your words, like you just said the dumbest thing on the planet. -"Nothing happened yesterday night, go back to sleep." "Can you elaborate a bit more?" You politely ask, still not feeling same. -"Yesterday you got drunk like a some dumb teenager and never stopped clinging to me. I just helped you." He groans, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "Why am I wearing your clothes then?" "You poured your nth drink on yourself, and I didn't want your dirty and sticky clothes in my bed." "Oh." A few seconds of silence, his hand now pulling your ankle towards the bed, getting more forceful. -"So, you took care of me! You have a soft spot for me!" You shout in excitement, making Bi-Han groan again "Ohhh do you have a crush for me, Grandmaster?" His pillow hit you straight in the face. -There must still be alcohol running in your blood because you would never be so brave in daily life. -"Don't worry, it's the same for me!" And something clicks in Bi-Han's mind, you see it in his eyes, now awake, mouth slightly open; he almost looks awestruck. -"Go back. It's too early now." He grumbles back, eyes close again and head on his pillow, yours thrown somewhere in the room after hitting your face. -You plop next to him immediately. After all those trainings, you are sure he wouldn't mind if you use his biceps as a pillow.

Tomas Vrbada: -You wake up in his arms, trapped in his hold. Not because he is actually holding you, his arms are simply heavy, and you are too tired to move them. -You want to die, worm your way out of his bed, and pop away in a cloud of smoke. -Maybe your thoughts are too loud, and soon you hear a groan, greyish eyes now open, looking straight into yours. -"Oh! Eheh. Seems like we got closer again while sleeping." You gulp, your mouth still dry. "What happened yesterday?" -You sit up, and he follows you, trying to keep the same eye level. "It was an…intense night. Maybe it's better if we talk in the kitchen." You nod. "The? Coffee?" You tell him your choice, now you are standing up, noticing that you aren't wearing the clothes of yesterday night, but what it seems a layer of Tomas' usual suit. -"Yesterday you drank too much, and kept clinging on me." "…" "Then when I brang you to my house, you poured on your clothes the water I gave you." "Wow I was a fucking mess." "Well I can't say the opposite. That's why you are wearing a part of my suit." Tomas says, turning sideways. There a fat red hickey catches your attention. -"I must have ruined your fun." You say, chuckling with death in your heart. "What do you mean?" He replies, furrowing his eyebrows. You point at your neck, where his hickey should be. His eyes widened before looking down bashfully, making you feel even worse. -"This…you made this." -WHAT. It's the turn of your eyes to widen. "You were a bit touchy-feely yesterday." -You felt like barfing, and not for the alcohol. "This is terrible Tomas! I'm so sorry." You say, voice full of sorrow for your actions. "D-Don't worry. But you need to promise me this-" "I swear I'll never drink again, I'll never bother youo, I-" "No, please listen. I think we need a bit of distance between us." -Straight to your heart. Hit and sunk. -"Don't misunderstand. I-I have a crush on you." Tomas says holding your hand, but eyes still on the ground. "Yesterday hurt like nothing else. I wanted to kiss you back and love you. But I didn't want to take advantage of you. It just isn't right." Now his grey eyes look back into yours, expression serious. -"I don't want our friendship to be ruined because of my feelings-" "I like you back." Tomas' mouth hangs open. You don't give him the time to reply. "I have been for a long time. That must be why I kept clinging to you yesterday. Now, if you want distance because I did something wrong I agree with you. But if you want distance because your crush may not be reciprocated, I have to deny your request." Your head still hurts like crazy and you don't know with which strength you are able to talk with such determination in your voice. -Now both your hands holding. Heart beating in unison. -"N-No, I mean. It's the second case. Like…do you really have a crush on me?" Tomas's cheeks get more and more red each second going by. His voice a bit higher than usual. "I do." -He releases your hands, now covering his face. "I can't believe this. You really have a crush on me?" "If you ask again I may change my mind." "No! Okay, you have a crush on me." "I do. You too?" "Absolutely." -"So…don't I look cute?" You say twirling around, his suit fluttering when you twirl on your place. "Yes, you do." He finally looks at you, but looks at you for real. Your bedhair, makeup smudged and his suit makes you look absurdly cute. -"Don't you think cute things should be kissed?" He nods. "Tomas?" "Mh?" He replies, mind clearly elsewhere. "Kiss me." This time the message was delivered. -Thankfully you both forgot to have morning breath.

bonus under the read more!

I know that with "you" you meant the reader, not my opinion in waking up in such a scenario, so I'm gonna write down here what I would do LOL.

Bi-Han: I can't believe that I would sleep with him even if intoxicated. But if it happeend I'll just crawl away and hope to never see him again. If he notices me I'd say something along the "I thought you were Johnny Cage". At that point I'm sure that I would be able to exit his house, dead or alive. Probably dead.

Tomas: Oh-I forgot what happened, maybe we should remake what happened yesterday night *twirling hair*. Maybe once won't be enough? Let's go for twice. You know what? Three is the perfect number, are you ready. 1-2-3 go!

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 6 - J'ai Dansé Avec L'Amour

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: none, really… some kissing and some awkwardness

Word Count: 2.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl! Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. Well, this isn't the wedding yet, but it's them both dealing, rather awkwardly, with the idea of getting married as they grapple with their attraction to each other. The wedding will be the next chapter. Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Eloise whispers into the inky blackness.

“What other choice do I have?” you whisper back, unwilling to admit how weirdly calm you are about the scheme.

You are lying in the spare room of Solène’s sister, Marie and her husband Jérôme’s cottage. Sharing the compact double bed, shoulders touching as you converse quietly. It must be after 2am. Benedict chivalrously insisted on taking the sofa downstairs despite being stuck on yours in Paris for the last few days.

“I still say we should find some forgers,” Eloise opines; you can hear the shrug in her tone. “You shouldn’t have to go through with a marriage to my brother just to escape.”

“It’s fine,” you placate, waving your hand dismissively, although likely unseen.

“What about Stanley?”

“I’m sure he will understand when I can eventually get home,” you fib.

There is a brief lapse into silence, and outside somewhere, an owl hoots.

“You know we may have to bribe someone to do this regardless, don’t you?” 

“What are you talking about?” you frown, turning your head to face her.

“There are rules about residency for French civil marriages, and you’ll need identification neither of you have with you, like birth certificates,” Eloise points out.

“Ohhh…” you stutter, feeling sheepish you didn’t even know that.

“Although… Jérôme is the mayor of Montivilliers…” Eloise offers thoughtfully. “And he is sleeping just through that wall…”

“He can marry us?” You’re unable to hide the excitement in your voice.

“If he’s willing to overlook a few things… yes… he could marry you in the Town Hall.”

Internally, you are celebrating even as you try to temper your excitement.

“Then, for my sake, let’s hope he is,” you answer, attempting to sound gravely concerned.

Eloise hums sleepily in response, and it’s your last words before she drops off. You lay awake for what seems like hours, staring up at the beam of moonglow on the whitewashed ceiling. A myriad fluttering in your stomach—a cautious optimism that this could work, a strange excitement at the thought of marrying Benedict, and a vague dread that your family could still be upset if it all works out. 

—

A light, dewy mist lingers in the garden outside the kitchen window as you sip coffee the following morning. A moment of solitary contemplation that has you considering a telegram to your family but deciding against it. Until you know if you can get out of the country, it seems pointless to make them more concerned than they already are.

“Dress shopping?” Eloise asks over a yawn as she plops into the seat next to you at the rustic wooden table in the kitchen, breaking your reverie. “For the wedding…” she adds when you frown nonplussed.

Oh.

“I, umm, was just going to use one I already have, to be honest. That off-white silk tea dress?”

Eloise cocks her head to the side in thought. “Hmm, that might just work - that can be your something old. I have a little faux fur stole you can wear to dress it up - something borrowed. I know you have some powder blue underwear, so we only need something new!” 

“You believe in that stuff?” you frown, taking a sip. It seems so anachronistic for her. You also decide not to ask how she knows about your underwear.

“I know it's not…” she leans in, likely worried about prying ears, mouthing the word ‘real’, before continuing at her regular volume, “...but best not to tempt fate,” she raises a pointed eyebrow, silently reminding you of what is at stake.

“Good point,” you concede as she gets up to grab some fruit.

“Your humble sage at your service,” she jests, taking a comedic bow. 

“But we still have to ask Jérôme…”

“Ask me what?” a genial, heavily accented booming voice rings out from the doorway.

“This one and my brother have gone and fallen in love,” Eloise explains, rolling her eyes. “The soppy idiots want to get married in France as soon as possible. I don't suppose you could help, could you? It would be their dream come true and so very romantic, non?” 

She appears to be piling on the theatrics, but you see that winning smile, the one she deploys whenever she manipulates an unsuspecting man to get her way. Sometimes, you swear it is almost too easy to navigate the world as an attractive Bridgerton.

“Pour vous, ma petit chou-fleur, peut-être…” he responds, an avuncular glint in his eye. It is evident from this interaction and the previous evening when you arrived that Marie and Jérôme have spent time with Eloise, likely in Paris with Solène.

“Merci Jérôme!” she celebrates, kissing his cheek as he affectionately chuckles. “Demain?” she adds cheekily.

“Mon dieu Eloise,” he exclaims as he grabs a croissant, “C'est très bientôt!”

You try to listen in as they rapid-fire converse in French, but you only follow along with every few words, maybe something about paperwork, but really, you are not sure. It mostly seems fond exasperation on Jérôme’s part, so you sit hopeful, just as Benedict wanders in.

“Ah, the other love bird!” Eloise cuts away from their chat. “I know you want to get married so quickly, but please do not make out too much in front of Jérôme!” she titters pointedly at Benedict, her eyes cutting from him to you.

Benedict seems to cotton on very quickly, and you startle as he leans down and brushes a featherlight kiss onto your cheek.

“Bon matin, mon amour,” he rumbles, his minty breath warm, causing goosebumps to break out over your arms.

“Morning, my love,” you whisper back stutteringly, the words almost tacky on your tongue, your mouth suddenly so dry. Your eyes meet, and it's the closest you have ever been, captivated by the tiny flecks of colour in his iris. He doesn't look away, and you seem unable. 

“Oh oui, je le vois, l'amour vrai… ” Jérôme mutters quietly across the room. “I will see what I can do,” he offers in English as you finally tear your eyes away, him giving you a nod before he takes his leave.

“Well done!” Eloise enthuses quietly with a big thumbs-up gesture once Jérôme has left the room. “Really convincing!” she adds before twirling out of the room with an apple jammed in her mouth.

“Sorry about that…” Benedict offers, a little flustered.

“No, please…” you can't think of anything else to say, almost tongue-tied as you replay his kiss on your cheek like a looping projector reel, wanting to add ‘do it again’, a tingle still lingering on your skin. 

There are a few beats of awkward silence where he seems on the precipice of saying something, but you are almost afraid to hear it, as if worried he wants to conjure an excuse to back out.

“I…I need to buy my something new!” you exclaim, jumping up and scurrying out of the room, leaving Benedict mildly perplexed about what that might even mean.

—

After a successful trip into Le Havre, where you and Eloise found your ‘something new’ - a pair of ivory Mary Janes that will complete your outfit - the day ends with Jérôme and Marie taking you all to a local restaurant. A delicious meal of many courses with flowing carafes of wine under the bright red canopy outside. It turns into one of those late nights with convivial conversation and bonding with strangers.

A band strikes up in the cobbled square, and after a few numbers, Jérôme drags Marie up to dance as the three of you cheer.

“Les tourtereaux!!” Jérôme exclaims after the song ends, gesturing for you and Benedict to join them on their makeshift dance floor.

“Non..non!” you protest, gesturing a no with your arms and laughing, a languid feeling in your bones from good food, drink and conversation.

But it appears he won't take no for an answer, and as Marie giggles and applauds, Jérôme marches over and grabs you both by the elbow, hauling you to your feet.

“Danse!” he commands.

You and Benedict exchange slightly nervous looks but emboldened by wine; then you gasp as a strong arm wraps around your back, and your other hand slides into his.

“Just go with it,” he breathes into your hair, and suddenly, you are spinning, the stars above you twinkling, as he leads you expertly in a swing dance.

“Mr Bridgerton, you can dance!” you exclaim in blithe amusement, clinging to him as you move together in a balletic union.

“As can you, Mrs Bridgerton!” he peels carefree.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you lose your footing. Benedict has to grab hold and haul you back upright before you collapse onto the cobbles.

“Sorry…” he blusters, his arms still around you, “I…I wasn't thinking…”

“No, no. That will indeed be my name…” you stumble, almost as if that is only just occurring to you now. “I'm just getting used to it, that's all,” you lie, knowing that is not why you lost your footing. 

He seems to accept that with a nod, and after a beat, you begin to move again, tentatively, Until the wine takes over and you are once again both giggling and dancing, his arm a strong brace around your back as you move together for many minutes, a joy fizzing in your veins.

At one point, you glance over and see Eloise with an odd expression on her face before she orders a drink from the waiter, but Benedict whips you around, and you get lost in the dance and in him. The feel of him wrapped around you at once safe and exhilarating.

“Kiss!” comes the yell from Jérôme as the song ends.

“You know, he's not going to shut up until we do it,” you raise, a little breathless from the dancing.

Without you having to say anything else, Benedict’s hands grasp around your waist, and you are lifted off the ground, taller than him. Then he tilts his head up and captures your lips with his.

Time stops.

The feeling is like an explosion and a perfect calm silence all at once. His lips don't open, but they don't need to - even this gentle kiss is a soft, sensual plushness that obliterates all your thoughts. A lingering tang of wine on his slightly dampened lips that you want to lick off, a plunge of lust in your belly that has you fighting the urge to wrap your legs around his hips and open your mouth, demanding a real kiss.

His hands slide around your back in a gentle cage as he lowers you to your feet. What upends you is the breathtaking look in his eye when he finally pulls away, pupils blown, face soft and full of yearning. You could never tire of that look.

“Get a room!” Eloise yells, and there is an uncharitable tart edge to it that breaks the spell and makes you look over at her. She appears much more inebriated than she was before.

“Is she okay?” you ask, your hands still wrapped around Benedict’s biceps, warm through his shirt sleeves.

“I think she ordered absinthe, so maybe not,” he answers, and you feel a pang of sadness as he releases his hold and gestures gentlemanly for you to walk ahead, to return to the table, the moment lost.

Half an hour later, Benedict and Jérôme are on either side of Eloise, helping her back into the cottage, much worse for wear. They get her to the sofa, where she promptly passes out and begins to snore lightly. Marie covers her in a blanket, and you realise it's unlikely you will be able to move her tonight.

“Well, you two will have to share the bed. But do not worry, I shall not tell your families,” Jérôme winks. “I can’t say Marie and I were saints before our marriage,” he adds with a tap on his nose and an uproarious chuckle.

Your eyes dart to Benedict and his to you. Panic, excitement, and apprehension all bubbling up inside—a volcanic eruption in your gut. You trust him not to take advantage; it’s yourself you don't trust.

Jérôme wraps an arm around both of your shoulders, red wine heavy on his breath “Oui, I will marry you tomorrow, mes amis. I can overlook some rules for a true love like yours.”

With that, he takes his leave, with you and Benedict left looking uncomfortably at each other, unsure if you should celebrate. That feeling remains as he suggests you go up first and get ready for bed, and once you are nervously tucked under the covers as he enters from the bathroom, those broad shoulders framed with a white t-shirt and the same bottoms he wore in Paris when you watched him sleep.

“I really wish I'd packed a proper pyjama set,” he sighs ruefully as he approaches the other side of the bed and slips under the covers, seemingly arranging himself right at the far side.  “I'm also so sorry about Eloise landing us in this situation. I can't believe she was that irresponsible,” he adds with his back turned but an unmistakable tinge of irritation in his tone. 

Even then, it’s a small bed, and you can feel his body heat radiating under the covers.

“You don't have to cling to the edge,” you offer hesitantly, “we are to be married after all…”

The last words are a whisper that sounds almost wounded, and he twists over, a look of surprise crowding his features.

“I am merely being respectful...” he replies cautiously.

“I know…” it's barely audible, and you can’t look at him.

The overwhelming awkwardness makes your chest ache, your hands wringing together nervously under the covers. What feels like mere moments ago, you were swept into his arms, and he was kissing you as if your lives depended upon it. And now this… the juxtaposition of reality and the fairytale you both act so well draws a lump to your throat.

“This whole situation is so odd,” you confess quietly, unable to be anything but honest with him.

“I know… I'm so sorry it has come to this.” 

You have no idea if he means tonight, the marriage or even life in general, in a war that could come to your doorstep any day.

“I don’t regret anything,” you volunteer after a beat.

“Neither do I…” his earnest whisper makes something inside you crack open, your palm itching to squeeze his hand.

Instead, you exchange soft goodnights, and you lay stock still for a long time, backs towards each other, feeling at once too close and a million miles apart.

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

[magicalrocketships]

Maybe you’ve moved on but I gotta ask.

How is de aged Max doing today? What is him and Daniel up to?

I will never have moved on from tiny Max. Never! He has my full and entire heart. I have at least three versions of this entire universe running concurrently in my head at any one time. But today Daniel has to find some clothes and shoes and toys for a newly small Max, and Max still refuses to tell him what he would like to eat for breakfast.

There is a POSSIBILITY that this link shows the stuff I've already posted in chronological order. Will it work on both mobile and browser? Who knows. Anyway, this bit follows directly on from this part.

1100 words of de-aged Max:

The woman who comes to deliver Max's Go Small stuff is called Charlotte, she's dressed impeccably, and she obviously thinks she's extremely good with children. 

She has, however, met her match in Max, because Max maintains the same stubborn silence he's been giving Daniel all morning. He folds his arms and sits on the sofa in Daniel's hastily washed and dried old Go Small kit, and barely allows Charlotte to measure his feet for some shoes. He does not answer any of her questions, and buries his face in Daniel's side when she has to put his foot in the foot measuring thingy.

Max is not very good in the morning when he's normal sized, but when he's just a baby and he's scared and trying to hide it and he's been up in the middle of the night having adventures with washing machines and unexpected baths and too-big Daniel t-shirts, well. He'd barely consented to eat any breakfast, even after Daniel had gone all out (little bowls of the two different types of cereal he has, another piece of toast with a jam smiley face on it, and then a fuck-it bowl of sweets from his bag of M&S Percy Pigs from when he was in Milton Keynes last month, because Max won't be small for long and he has to eat something). Max had sat at Daniel's table, sleepy and quiet and stubborn and shy, had eaten two bites of toast (avoiding the jam), a handful of cheerios, and three of the sweets. He'd eaten the sweets without taking his eyes off of Daniel's face, which remained creepy. He is absolutely not up for meeting strangers in Daniel's living room who do strange things like deposit bags and boxes in the doorway and then ask to measure his feet. 

"What kind of shoes would you like, Max?" Charlotte asks, which seems like a stupid question to ask given that Max has given her exactly zero interactions since she arrived, and he very clearly does not want any shoes at all. "We have red ones, and green ones, and blue ones, and some with pictures on, if you don't want a colour. We have Spider-man, and Pikachu, and—" 

For the very first time all day, Max makes a voluntary noise. His gaze darts to Daniel, his eyes bright. 

Daniel purposefully softens his smile. "Something there you like the sound of, Maxy-Max? Was it the green ones?"

Max shakes his head no.

"Well, it must be the Spider-man ones, then." He turns to Charlotte, giving her the ghost of a wink. "I think—"

"No," Max says quickly. When he says "Pikachu please," he says it so quickly the words run together, all mixed up like they've just run into a wall and scattered letters everywhere. 

"Pikachu, hey?" Daniel says. "That's a very good choice, Maxy-Max."

"They're in the van," Charlotte says, getting to her feet. "I'll go and get them, and some socks to match, maybe? Then we can try them on, make sure they fit nicely."

As she leaves, Max stares wide-eyed up at Daniel. "Pikachu shoes?"

"Pikachu shoes," Daniel agrees. "Pikachu, that's the chicken, right? Cluck-cluck."

"No," Max frowns. "Pikachu is a mouse, Daniel." 

"Right," Daniel says, nodding. "The purple mouse, I forgot. Silly Daniel."

"He is yellow," Max says, still frowning. "Pikachu is yellow and he's a mouse and he's the best one. He has a tail that goes like this--" he shapes out a lightning bolt in the air, kind of, and Daniel puts on his best learning face. "He likes ketchup."

"Ohhh," Daniel says. "Like you like tomato soup." 

Max's eyes get really wide. He beams.

Daniel rests his chin on his palm. "Do you know anything else about Pokemon? I don't think I know anything. I thought Pikachu was a purple chicken."

Max tells Daniel at least fifteen things about Pokemon before Charlotte comes back brandishing a pair of Pikachu trainers in one hand, and a bag of things to up-sell Daniel in the other. Daniel doesn't bother reviewing them, since they're clearly Pokemon clothes and books and socks and toys, and he's not exactly poor. If Max gets big again today, they can all go to some other Pokemon-obsessed seven year old. He agrees to take them all, even as Max tells him all about Charmander — his tail is on fire, Daniel, but he doesn't set on fire, it is all right, it is just his tail — and Squirtle, who Daniel believes is a horse and Max has to explain is a turtle.

"Of course," Daniel says, as he finishes velcroing Max's Pikachu trainers closed. They're teamed with matching socks. Daniel does not choose to think about what he's just paid for either of them. "Silly me. The horse is the other one, right?"

Max blinks at him like Daniel is extremely stupid. It's the cutest fucking thing Daniel has ever seen in his entire fucking life. He's seen that expression on Max's face before, only more grown up-shaped and usually directed towards the journalist with the stupidest question in any given press session. Right now the full baby force of it is directed towards him. 

"Jigglypuff, right?" Daniel says. "The horse?"

"He is not a horse, Daniel," Max says finally. Daniel's stupidity is clearly weighing heavy on him, because when Daniel gets up to say thank you and good bye to Charlotte, he gets up too, complete with new shoes, and hides behind Daniel's hip, hands to Daniel's waistband. He does not say goodbye. Daniel doesn't ask him to, particularly as when he shakes Charlotte's hand, she whispers, got yourself a handful there, and nods towards baby Max. 

Daniel is glad that he's standing as a physical shield between her and Max, because right now he feels like he could evolve into some kind of huge fucking terrifying Pokemon if anyone on the planet said anything mean about the scared little boy clutching his t-shirt. "I've got pretty big hands," he says finally, and shuts the door on her. 

Then, he turns back around to Max, who's looking down in wonder at his yellow Pikachu trainers and matching socks, his hand still tangled in Daniel's shirt. 

"You like your new shoes, Maxy?"

"Yes," Max says, wiggling his toes. "Is she coming back?"

"No," Daniel says, as Max slips his hand into his. Daniel's heart expands about fifteen sizes. "Do you want to look at your new book about flags?"

"A book about flags?" Max asks, blinking. 

"Yeah," Daniel says, grabbing the package off the table. "You want to look?"

"Yes, please," Max says, and doesn't let go of Daniel's hand. 

[continues here]

[crimeronan]

i love all the comics coming out about luz explaining bisexuality to hunter theyre all so fucking funny and choice. i gotta join the headcanon train i've been thinking about how this would go down and CANNOT stop imagining, just. like. god

hunter already knows he finds any gender attractive. however hunter did NOT know that there's a word for this. he basically asks luz why there's a word for "water is wet" and luz is like oh boy. alright i'm not explaining homophobia to you. but hunter are you. are you aware that.... that not...... not everyone. is bisexual

hunter was not aware of this. hunter finds this entire concept both baffling and vexing. so he immediately starts in with a million threads of "but HOW. but WHY. but that MAKES NO SENSE" that just get increasingly autistic. while luz is like I DUNNO DUDE. SEXUALITY IS FLUID I CAN'T WRITE YOU A THESIS ON IT RN I AM FOURTEEN YEARS OLD I'M JUST ONLINE

hunter's like "but that's STUPID!!!" luz is like my man. my guy. my dude my pal. you have No Idea how many microaggressions you're committing right now. Ohhh My God

then in trying to explain it Again, luz is very patiently like "well i like a lot of different types of people! amity likes girls exclusively though. it's just how she is"

which causes hunter to get caught in another loop of "BUT WHY THOUGH. THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH BOYS THEY LOOK NICE"

"she's just never liked a boy like that!"

"BUT WHAT IF ONE DAY SHE MEETS A NEW BOY AND THEN-"

"oh my god. hunter. you had no way of knowing this so it's okay but 'maybe someday you'll meet the right person' is like, the WORST thing you can POSSIBLY say. don't do that. it really doesn't matter That Much. you don't have to get it. it's fine"

hunter's like well okay fair enough i don't care enough about it to tread on people's toes. but also i hate this. i hate that you have cursed me with this knowledge and that i'm going to lay awake haunted for at least a week trying to figure it all out. why doesn't everybody in the entire world just do things that make sense to me, someone who is completely normal and rational about everything all the time

luz is like. alright drama queen. we can find some books and articles and stuff about it. is that cool??

hunter agrees to this and immediately perks up upon being told that there's an entire field of study just dedicated to stuff like this. but then after a second, still sounding just as vexed as before, he goes "i feel like i must be missing something obvious. i don't even know what gender MEANS"

"okay. what if.... i tell you...... that there are words for that, too."

"NOOOOOOOOOO,"

and basically all of this deeply silly nonsense resolves with luz just being like. alright my bisexual genderqueer weirdo broski whom i love so much. PLEASE ask me for etiquette tips before you go out and meet Literally Any gay people at all in the human world, anywhere, ever. i am Fucking Begging You,

[wrathofrats]

Another extremely accurate post of me guessing your personality based on your fav ghoul, but I’m nicer this time!

Mountain: you bitches terrify me. Like I’m a good way. Mostly very chill people, just kinda wanting to get their work done and go, but when it comes to that tall ass piece of meat?? Holy fuck y’all go crazy. Insane. Feral. Y’all rival the Swiss people which is so funny to be considering how mountain is headcanoned to be. Also I think you’re a good baker idk why.

Rain: ahhh!! Y’all are very sweet. Sassy but usually very sweet. Calm, don’t have much to say until you have a burning desire to see a fish in a dress. But all you wanna do is dress up your pretty little ghoul and vibe. Very artistic people. Some of y’all have a weird sadism streak tho and I’m concerned for you!!! You remind me of like a 5 year old whispering to their parents in the middle of the night that they’re going to skin mom. But affectionately

Aether: the absolute sweetest people. Genuinely very kind and cares for others I love y’all so much. Just wants to see everyone be happy and tell stupid jokes. Your fav color is like yellow or purple I’m almost positive. Your love language is touch and words of affirmation. Y’all don’t have much to say but you’re such a ray of sunshine kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss kiss

Dew: babe ………. Babe. I love you. This is the most self destructive answer. I think we need to stop consuming caffeine and let’s instead maybe see a therapist. You’re so fun, and funny. You’re a little shit (affectionately) people love you a lot more than you think. How about we learn to accept compliments? And maybe how to sit down? But you’re very entertaining!!!

Swiss: alright you stupid cunt. Funniest fucking people ever. Also horniest people ever. Y’all are great leaders, usually have bold personalities. Life of the party. But also let’s learn how to be nice to others. Bullying those we love is not a valid love language but you’re very very funny so, give and take I guess. Also youre hot you must be I don’t make the rules. 

Cumulus: sweetest people also. Mom friend. I know you probably have a giant purse that you keep candy and ibuprofen in. Let’s maybe learn to put the air mask on ourselves before others? Usually fairly shy but it’s ok I love you. You look amazing in a sundress, and you’re like the least judge mental person ever. I’m feeding you a strawberry rn let me know if you receive it

Cirrus: god YOURE HOT. You’re so fucking confident. You are here to tell people what to do and get shit done, and every listens to you. You’re the plan maker. Here’s the itinerary and if you don’t like it figure something else out. You give good solid and very honest advice

Sunny: ohhh my sweet summer child. You’re a lot! I love you for it! You want to do everything all the time and know everything about everything, so so very curious. You ate glue as a child, affectionately. But it’s ok! You’re adorable and very yellow coded. Probably eats dessert before dinner, you absolutely have a sweet tooth.

Phantom: hey another dumbass, affectionately. Put down the fucking green hair dye. PUT IT DOWN. Y’all are golden retriever people, usually just very happy to be here. Puts on a badass face but very nice and usually kinda chill. Cargo shorts and pants are not the only fashion choices if you were not already aware, but it’s ok you’ll grow out of it!

Aurora: you’re so cute!! Probably a bit mean, very much a princess. Prissy and wants what they want when they want it. But you know being kind is cool and usually wanna sit and listen to other people.

[duckymcdoorknob]

𝓣𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓸𝓫𝓮𝓻 𝓭𝓪𝔂 8: 𝓣𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓱

NARUTO TIME NARUTO TIME

My lil dude whom I adore with my whole heart.

Oh look Naruto’s there too!

No I’m kidding I’d sell my soul to meet either of them.

GOD I AM SO BEHIND ON TICKLETOBER PIECES I HATE COLLEGE

Tags: @chrimsss @sleepysheepytea (I know you’re a Naruto fan, so I thought you might enjoy this!!) @tickletr-ash @ticklish-n-stuff @giggly-squiggily

—This do have tickles below the cut ngl—

As much as Naruto loved his friends, boy did they show up at the worst times. He WAS planning on spending his day off doing something incredibly important, mind you. Okay- fine, he was going to spend the day sleeping and eating, but that’s equally as important as anything else his friends have planned.

Though, the impromptu visits did make him feel loved. How far he’s come… younger him couldn’t even begin to fathom a life like this.

So, when he heard the ecstatic knocking at his door, a smile crept onto his features. He perked through the peephole and was delighted to see all of his friends.

“Hey, guys I was actually-“

“NARUTOOOOOOO!” Lee cheered, “We have come to see you on our day off! It is important to keep your youth healthy and abundant!”

The blonde ninja sighed. “My youth is perfectly abundant… I think?”

The group chuckled a bit. All of them removed their shoes and sprawled out on any and all furniture in the boy’s tiny apartment. Lee kicked his feet with a smile as he lay on his stomach to feed Akamaru little crackers, with Choji attempting to swipe them from him.

“Let’s play a game!” Kiba chirped.

“A game? What kind of game?” Neji inquired, eyes closed as Shikamaru carefully untangled his messy hair

“Oooh, how about truth or dare?” Choji asked with a Cheshire grin.

“What are we, twelve?” Shikamaru grumbled.

“Fine then, Shikamaru. We can-“

“Wait!”

All eyes turned to the blonde, causing him to blink rapidly a few times. “I-I want to play. I’ve never… uh.”

The boys looked upon him with confusion.

“You’ve never played truth or dare before?” Shino asked in disbelief.

Naruto stared back at them as if they were all morons, lifting his tee shirt to reveal the seal that adorned his stomach.

A collective “ohhh” filled the room.

“So yeah, I think I wanna play.”

“Sure, man!” Kiba cheered. “Everyone come sit in a circle!”

All of the shinobi obey and are soon sat criss-crossed in a circle. Eyes dart around the group as they try to decide who will ask first.

Shikamaru finally sighed and spoke up. “Choji, you asked to play. You first.”

“Alright! Hmmm…” the red-haired boy looked around. He locked eyes with… “Neji, truth or dare?”

“Mmm, truth,” the Hyuga replied.

“Booooring- okay, fine. Do you have a crush on any of the girls?”

He opened his mouth to answer, but quickly closed it with a scoff. “O-Of course not. That’s-“

“Why the stutter, pretty boy?” Kiba teased.

“Yeah, Neji. You lie like a rug,” Shikamaru quipped as he squeezed the latter’s shoulders.

“Alright fine!” he cleared his throat. “I will say that… erm… I find Tenten to be rather alluring.”

A chorus of “ohhhh!”s filled the tiny apartment as they all chuckled and teased the Byakugan user.

“Ooooh! I must tell Guy-Sensei, he would be-“

“One word out of you, and I will sew your lips shut!”

“Rude!”

“Don’t cross me, Lee!”

Amidst the chaos between the two teammates, the game continued. Kiba had to stand on his hands for a minute, Shino revealed a secret love for literature, Sai ate a spoonful of fridge jungle juice, aka whatever condiments they could find mixed with milk; and Shikamaru revealed a slight crush on Temari.

Finally it was Naruto’s turn.

“Alright, Naruto. Truth or dare?”

Oh man, tough choice…

“Mmm, truth! I pick truth!”

“Okay, uhh… let’s see.” A sudden flash of malice appeared in Shikamaru’s eyes. “Where are you most ticklish?”

Just like earlier, all eyes fell onto him. He shifted nervously as he tried to think of an answer.

“I- um… w-well, that’s- uh…”

“You can tell us. We won’t use it against you or anything,” the shadow user replied with a patient, but curious, smile.

“Well… I actually don’t… know?”

They stared at him, bug-eyed. Was he serious? There’s no way that he didn’t know… How could he not?

Realization appeared across the Nara’s features. “You’ve never been tickled before?”

“I-I didn’t say that-“

“But it’s true, isn’t it?”

“I- um…” A pink hue appeared on the boy’s ears. “I mean other than this one time that Pervy Sage did…”

“Alright, come here.” Shikamaru patted the spot in front of him. “Let’s find out.”

Was this guy serious?! Why so bold?? Should he just accept the-

“If you don’t come over, I’m gonna have to have Kiba take matters into his own hands, then we learn the hard way.”

Naruto’s eyes darted over to Kiba, who was already staring back at him with a menacing smile.

“Nopenopenopenope-“ The blonde ran from the circle, dodging around furniture, and eventually getting stuck in a corner.

“Come on, Naruto. Don’t make me do this the hard way. It’ll be easier for both of us if you just come to me.”

“Waaaaah! I want to but- NGH-“ In an instant the boy fell paralyzed, his arms holding themselves above his head. “Oh you bi- HYEAHA!”

Kiba smiled as he tweaked at the blonde’s hips. “Ohh, he’s ticklish alright!”

“Kihihibahaha! Wahahahait!” The jinchuriki whined.

“No wait! I’m curious! Let’s try here, I bet you’re ticklish here!” He mused as he skittered his fingers over Naruto’s stomach

“NYEAHAHA! KIHIHI-KIHIHIBAHAHA! HOHOHOHOLD OHOHOHON!”

“Hold on? But you’re so ticklish here! Is it because of your mark?” The brunette chirped.

“IHIHIHI THIHIHIHINK SOHOHOHO! BUHUHUT- AGH! KIHIHIBAHAHA!! NONONONOHOHOHOHO!!”

The fanged boy’s eyes lit up as he had just snuck his hand under the blonde’s shirt to squeeze at his stomach. “Ohoho! It is the mark! Awww! That’s so cute!”

“IHIHIHI CAHAHAHANT! KIHIHIBAHAHA!”

“Are you sure? Maaan some kind of endurance you have. What kind of ninja are you?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEASE!”

“We gotta tell master Jiraiya about this, maybe he can help you.”

The teasing and the tickles in his worst spot were far too much… “OKAHAHAHAY! OKAHAHAHAY! YOHOHOHOU MAHAHADE YOHOHOUR POHOHOHOINT! STAHAHAHAPPIHIHIT!”

The Inuzuka boy smiled as he moved to gently scratch under Naruto’s arms. “Oh man, that is like so freaking cool. I never knew that your mark could affect you so much!”

The blonde closed his eyes and laughed helplessly, feeling vulnerable in front of the group, while also feeling the safest that he has in a while. “Kihihibahaha, stahahap teheheasihihing.”

Neji, being as perceptive as he is, noticed a small detail… “Ah… I forgot you too can feel what he’s feeling.”

The Nara boy was standing completely still, limbs vibrating as he bit his lip. “N-Nothing wo-worth mENtionihihihing.”

“Oye, Kiba! Don’t move spots, looks like we found Shikamaru’s tickle spot too.” Choji chimed as he looked upon his teammate evilly.

Welp… someone had to make the sacrifice. It’s not like he wasn’t expecting retaliation from it.

Let’s just hope he has more stamina than Naruto did…

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[thiefbird]

E, n, u for the letters ask please! 🖖

E - Have you added anything cracky/hilarious to your fandom? If so, what?

Yes, but not recently! These were back in early early high school. I wrote a very short, very bad Draco Malfoy/Apple(as in the fruit) fic once. I hope to god it has been lost to time. I will not tell anyone what my fanfiction dot net username was. I also wrote a Doctor Who/Supernatural/Sherlock/X Files/Star Trek: The Original Series/Warehouse 13/The Yellow Submarine(not Beatles RPF because the only character was Jeremy Hillary Boob, PhD aka The Nowhere Man)/Invader Zim crackfic extravaganza in collab with @gabrielnovakgoestomyschool (there may have been another fandom that I forgot). I do not know if it has survived the passage of time. I almost hope it did. They were all in this incredibly Escher-esque grocery store trying to get milk. I guess recently I accidentally wrote "Loghain Mac Tit" instead of "Loghain Mac Tir" when starting a post, took one look at it, and just posted it without further elaboration. I don't know if anyone ELSE thought it was funny, but I definitely did.

N - Name three things you wish you saw more or in your main fandom (or a fandom of choice).

U - Three favorite characters from three different fandoms, and why they’re your favorites.

Anders - I love an underdog, I love a revolutionary, I love a pathetic tall man who looks like he hasn't slept in a month, I love a man who will make Those Sounds when he kisses me. Also he loves cats and complaining; same, Anders. More seriously, I think he's a deeply misunderstood character by both those around him in canon, by his writing team and Bioware as a whole, and by the general fandom(not any of my beloved mutuals, we are all in the Right About Anders club); despite this, I do think he is a cohesive character. I just don't necessarily think that he is a cohesive character on purpose. I love the implications of his bonding with Justice, and the avenues it opens up for writing. I fully believe that Anders believes that he corrupted Justice into Vengeance, and that Vengeance is a demon; I just don't believe it's true.

Stephen Maturin - Ohhh, Stephen, my beloved. Patrick O'Brian cooked you up in a lab specifically to make me insane (nevermind the fact that I was three years old when he died) - mine is a fated obsession, to the point that I actually had a crazy-dramatic, toxic relationship with an autistic Trinity College naturalist for four and a half years directly out of high school; my brain simply had not fully learned that Stephen Maturin existed (I'd seen the movie once or twice and listened to the soundtrack ad nauseum because of my mother but never payed much attention), and fixated on the next best thing. Here is my Stephen Maturin propaganda: He's a tiny, angry little man who calls animals and friends and his wife alike "honey" and "my dear" and "acushla/a chuisle" (I will never forget the "awwwwwwww" that came from my mouth the one time he called Tom Pullings honey). He calls his best friend "soul" and "joy", and his other best friend "honey-bun". He's an International Super Spy, one of the most effective in the British service, and refuses to be paid for it because he hates tyranny so much (he does not like English colonialism either, but he has decided that England is the best way to beat Napoleon). He's an Irish and Catalan revolutionary (I did say I love a revolutionary), who is somewhat in hiding in the first book because of his associations with The Society of United Irishmen, and therefore connections to the Irish Uprising of 1798. Despite this impressive resume, this man has never met a boat or ship he is not in danger of not falling out of - he has been at sea for the better part of twenty years by the end of the series, and he still must be Carefully Watched to make sure he does not drown, or get soaked through to the skin. He is an acclaimed surgeon, with a miraculous success rate. He is also a renowned natural philosopher who has discovered multiple species, including a giant tortoise. He is the least tidy or fastidious man in all of creation, and is constantly covered in blood and/or winestains and/or crumbs. He pours alcohol over surgical sites not because he knows of germ theory, but because he thinks it'll help with pain. The only non-familial friend he's had longer than Jack Aubrey(who lives longer than the first book. Sorry James, ily) is Adhemar de la Mothe, a known and flamboyantly queer Parisian. He regularly says that he does not see the harm in sodomy so long as no one is harassing the ship's boys, and that anything that adds more love to the world seems a good thing. He loses his mind over a woman, and the more awful she is to him the more he loses it.

Speaking of Diana Villiers - Oh, Diana. I am fully in understanding with Stephen over you. A beautiful, headstrong woman who can ride better than most men, stuck in the most boring atmosphere of Southern England with her aunt and cousins after the death of her husband and her father both made her leave India - I cannot blame her for many of her actions. Diana is a fascinating character, and to me she is proof of Patrick O'Brian's writing ability. Most authors of Men Go To War books don't really seem to know how to write women very well (C.S. Forester I am looking at you. I do not know who Maria is outside of her fawning over Hornblower), but Diana is a fully fledged person from the moment we meet her setting her horse over a gate, despite the fact that we never see any of the events of the twenty books through her eyes. Not only is she a fully realised character, but she is one that shows his understanding of the setting he writes in. Diana Villiers is coping with grief - not only grief for her husband and her father, but for her independence. Her life in India, keeping house for her father from her mid-teens, would have been almost as different as one can imagine from the life of a poor relation take in on charity by a widowed aunt. She feels stifled in the English countryside, forced to play second fiddle to her cousins in order to keep the peace and a roof over her head. I cannot blame her for toying with men's hearts as a source of entertainment. Going into keeping with Canning is Diana's attempt to regain at least some measure of independence, and it is successful, to some extent. She has money, she is back in a country she finds familiar and exciting - but she also has a jealous, suspicious lover who employs their servants as spies to watch her activities, and little company because she is herself a scandal. Stephen's proposal offers her a way out of her situation; it also, to her, seems like a loss of freedom, not only because Stephen loves her, but also because she loves him, and that terrifies her. So she instead runs away with Johnson to America. Johnson, of course, is worse than Canning, and she leaves him temporarily, but then her freedom in England is threatened, again, this time by suspicions of intelligence work (I always wonder just how she got tied up so tightly in Mrs Wogan's subterfuge; did Johnson have something to do with it?), and surprise! Johnson is there to whisk her away from the danger. But he's worse still, and Stephen manages to intervene(yay Stephen) and get her away and back to Europe. This just keeps happening. Diana wants something that is almost entirely impossible for a woman in the period she lives in: liberty. Anything that could interfere with her freedom and independence is avoided at any cost - even her own feelings for Stephen. Especially her feelings for Stephen. She also, to me as someone with BPD/cPTSD now pretty well in remission, reads as a very empathetic and accurate portrayal of someone with BPD/cPTSD. Personally I think Being A Woman In The Late 1700s is enough reason on its own to have it(and we don't know enough of Diana's life before the Peace of Amiens to speculate on other Sources Of Trauma other than the death of her husband and father), but a lot of her hot-and-cold feels so familiar to me. She can be so cruel, and mean it fully in the moment she's saying it, but almost immediately regret her cruelty while still doubling down because she feels she has no other options.

Wow. This got really long. I hope everyone enjoys my Aubreyad Opinions Of The Day

[bestworstcase]

I find it interesting how much the RK Jaune basically now occupies the same position as Ironwood and Ozma in a narrative sense, the two people he's always held a notable critical eye and distrust for ever since the fall of Beacon, at least when you consider his situation with Alyx and Lewis.

He basically tried to do what they did; railroad others into the story that he thought it should be, even if out of the best of intentions, and in doing so basically ensured that Alyx wouldn't trust him.

As Salem's heroic foil, I wonder if this'll play a part in any relevations he and the others might have about dealing with Salem herself.

Because I don't think it's a coincidence.

Also think it's interesting how he considers ascension "death"...but given that he's the type of person who literally clings to and wears his trauma on him, maybe in his mind he views the "death" of his memories, the potential loss of his own past mistakes as being just as bad as dying.

OH. ohhh you know what this is, i bet?

“she cursed the world; she cursed the gods. she cursed everything—everything but herself.”

i’ve never believed the insinuation here that salem is incapable of self-reflection—salem herself is far too flexible and far too comfortable reversing course when something isn’t working for me to believe that she’s too arrogant to consider the possibility that she’s done wrong, and the reason she cursed the gods and not herself is that she genuinely did nothing wrong—BUT, that insinuation sure is an apt description of jaune’s reaction to the ever after, isn’t it? oh, he’s marinating in compulsive guilt and when he gets caught up in recounting the past he wonders aloud if it was his fault for not being able to make the story happen the right way, but those feelings are just that—compulsive, arising more from his festering guilt about penny than any actual sense of personal responsibility. something bad happened, and jaune blames the tree—or the cat—or the herbalist—or alyx herself, because she was selfish and cruel and must have sacrificed her brother to escape and then written him out of the story. it doesn’t matter what any of the afterans say, ascension is death and the cat is evil and the world is rotten and he knows the truth, he doesn’t need a guide, he’s got all the right answers and he’s sick and tired of the ever after’s bullshit.

meanwhile anyone with half a brain is now like, unreliable narrator much?

and like becoming jaded, making assumptions and accusations instead of asking questions… he’s salem’s heroic foil after the extinction, and he does what jinn (speaking from ozpin’s perspective!) accuses salem of having done—blaming everyone except himself, refusing to look inwards and question his own choices—and doing that transforms him into ozpin! we’re seeing the other side of the mirror now, demonstrating that the assessment of salem’s flaws provided in the lost fable was just ozpin projecting all along. which lol We Knew, but now it’s being overtly pointed out to us.

(isn’t it funny how ozma devoted lifetimes to destroying history and keeping secrets and lying to people for the sake of controlling the narrative, and now jaune’s old and jaded and flinging accusations around and refusing to listen to the answers he’s given, and curiosity has slunk away in despair? i think that’s funny. the sledgehammer of subtlety was not enough they needed a jackhammer)

the thing about ascension of course is that it is death—it’s reincarnation. the denizens don’t call it death because to them, “death” means specifically the ending of the reincarnation cycle, but for all intents and purposes ascension is just death and spiritual rebirth. what jaune’s not seeing is that this process is a natural and celebrated part of life in the ever after—it’s not something bad. what is bad is the spiritual death that occurs when a denizen is eaten by the jabberwalker and thus cut off from connection to the tree. jaune is taking his own feelings about how death works in his world and applying it incorrectly to a culture and a belief system that doesn’t work that way, and deciding that the whole belief system is evil on that basis. which is both understandable given what he’s been through and an attitude that makes any and all information he provides about the ever after functionally worthless, because he’s not able to see any of it clearly. he’s too deep in his own head, his own preconceived notions—again rather like another paranoid old man we know.

(i’m also finding it really interesting that jaune gives crescent rose back to ruby, in this context—he’s symbolically standing in ozpin’s shoes here as he hands her weapon back as a burden. i’m curious to see how this plays out in conjunction with 1. the cat having left them, and 2. That One Shot from the trailer, and 3. the blacksmith’s second scene.)

at this point and with only four episodes left i’m kinda… like before they get home, they need to 1. find out what really happened to lewis, and 2. either learn ✨something✨ about salem to take with them back to remnant or make the choice to commit to a new course of action (<- leaning toward the former still, because at this point i don’t think there’s ANY way these kids land on “we should try to reason with her” without something knocking them in that direction first, and because i still think “salem wrote it” is the explanation that makes the most sense as far as what the ever after…is.) and those to things are probably connected in some way? i would imagine? but jaune needs to lose his cynicism and the only way to do that is to find out the truth, i think.

i also have some latent thoughts about jaune seeing his younger self in the crossroad mirrors like—hm. hmm hm. jaune was the hatter and now he’s hatta and the rusted knight is also jaune’s reflection—there are some layers to this that i need to Ponder but in the spirit of deranged crwby-watched-my-favorite-musical?! posting i’d say jaune is overdue for a more literal meeting with his younger self in the indeterminate future and also i’ve changed my mind on they’re not gonna de-age him and i am now like. 50/50 jaune gets wound back but keeps his memories (<- that’s how the watch gets used to save the day in post-2011 iterations of musical) and 50/50 ruby uses the watch to give herself a second chance to solve a riddle (<- pre-2011 style). or maybe both i have no idea what is happening anymore i’m just experiencing some emotions for sure

[cloveroctobers]

STRAWBERRY CRUSH — STELLA KIDD [Spring Prompts]

A/N: alright, alright you caught me! I may or may not have a crush on Stella and thought it was only fair to write a little something since I am binge-watching after all—currently finishing up season six as I write this! In short: Yes we love Stellaride over here but this one specifically is for my wlw, you’re welcome!

PROMPTS ARE FROM HERE + I’m using: 6. “I am going to have a magical picnic and you can’t do anything to stop it!” “Yeah, but the bugs can.” + 16. “Your beauty outshines all the flowers.” “Are you sure? The flowers are really pretty this year.” 

WARNINGS: reader is a southern plant/earth lover, this is what it’s like to see Stella crushing but unsure, + written in MY version of HC’s/note form.

᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘

Strawberries require well drained soil, they must be placed on a gradual slope, and receive full sunlight in order to experience successful growth.

That’s something your grandfather first told you, once you were old enough to get into farming.

It’s never left your mind even with his passing and you always had the best eye when it came to picking produce.

Granted, picking that particular item in a mini mart in the city might not be the best choice but Stella made sure to put the red berry on the list.

She wanted the best snacks or else she would leave you hanging on this outing—just like she ditched her second date with the guy from 98–to be with you.

Stella can’t help but to catch a glimpse of you at the end of one aisle, you’re by the freezers now and you’re standing on your tippy toes, teal silk shirt raising above your fitted jeans and revealing tatted skin as you grab a beverage.

The height difference is something she has to get used to and often caught her mind thinking about whenever you were face to face and she would have to play it off as her being tired instead of daydreaming about what your lips would feel like.

“You ready, Stella star?” Your hip is bumping against hers before you carry on towards the registers.

It’s your own personal nickname for her and it has a cuteness to it with your contrast of a southern twang. However when each of you are out fighting fires, you on squad and her on her truck 81, she has to learn how not to miss it as much, as you go forth with using her last name like everyone else.

The man at the register jokes, “You ladies buying the whole store?”

You rack your red nails against the counter, “hm…you sell lottery tickets? My friend here is feeling lucky.”

“I mean, with a babe like you, who wouldn’t be?” He winks at you while Stella raises her brows with a cross of her arms.

He rings up two tickets before continuing with the rest of the items.

You and Stella are grabbing the bags before you say one last thing, “also it’s mango season so you may want to step it up with your mangoes since yours are rottin’ in the back, the last thing you want is for the insects to spread to the rest of the underwhelming products. Now, that’ll be all! You have a good one.”

Stella winks at the man for good measure who scowls at the both of you on your exit.

“His store is crappy anyway.” Stella sasses as the both of you load up her car some more, “There’s a way better one downtown, closer to lake shore.”

“Noted for next time.”

“Ohhh, look at you already thinking about spending more time with little ‘ol fabulous me?” Stella places a hand on her chest dramatically while she makes her way over to the driver’s side.

You smile as you open the passenger side, “what can I say? Maybe I just can’t get enough of you, Stella-Star.” Before climbing into the vehicle, leaving the dark haired woman to be impressed at your charm while also feeling her cheeks warm.

The drive to lake shore drive is full of Chicago’s vibrant buildings and singing along to the radio while you both smoothly move along with the traffic.

The ride felt shorter than it was, like time often felt between the two of you when you had the chance to have it.

Stella was definitely in her head about this, wondering if it was a date and knew chatting about it (unwillingly) with Otis and Joe was a lost cause so she chose to hit up your shared girl friends to see if you gave them any insight.

Gabby and Sylvie were 1000% sure it was a date—although they claim you didn’t say or gave much away when you causally brought it up. Stella even went as far to pick Cap and Tony’s brain before Severide could get a whiff and tease her about how awkward she was being.

Kelly was actually the first one to pinpoint that Stella was “drooling” over you and kept pushing for Stella to just go for it.

He would hint at things and then act like he wasn’t and that left Stella thinking maybe he was trying to set her up! to make a fool outta herself but she believed Kelly wouldn’t trick her like that, especially if this had the potential to be serious.

He had her back and she had his…they were good friends like that.

So when you approached after an extremely long shift with this idea, Stella almost collapsed to her knees.

The both of you rarely had alone time together, it was always in group settings but when you did share conversations privately—Stella felt something shift between you two recently and she was still trying to pinpoint when exactly that happened.

See…there she was being too much in her head about it!

“We should have brought some bikes out here,” Stella comments as she carries her portion of bags, glancing at the chicagoans who flew by on the biking path.

You shrug, “here’s the thing…I never could get that down.”

“What?!”” Stella is shocked, “aren’t you from the south? Don’t tell me you ran or walked everywhere with those roads? Or wait…rode horses?”

You snorted, “I never was much of a horse girl either since my ass and thighs always ended up hurting afterwards AND i watched one kick the jelly out of my Grammy! Call me traumatized from that point on. I left those things to my gramps and brothers to deal with while I spent time with the chickens and cows.”

“And the yams and green beans.” Stella jokes while you walk side by side, scoping out a good spot of greenery.

Pointing up ahead at a hill like portion that had a great view of the water and also the buildings behind you, ending up being the winner as the both of you headed towards the incline.

“I have you know that my family has won competitions for the best veggies! And if my Grammy was here, she’d show off her mountain of photos to you.” You’re stretching out some blankets, one of them being a incredibly soft birthday gift from Brett who claimed that she purchased it from a Portuguese woman who handmade it at the market.

“I’m not arguing with ya there,” Stella raises her hands in surrender, “you country folk are built different…can’t exactly say better but different!”

You scoff with a shake of your head, “you city slickers.”

Stella laughs to herself as you make yourself comfortable, sitting crossed legged before pulling a full on woven basket from behind you.

“Where the heck did you hide that?”

“Can’t reveal all my secrets can I?” You grin, happy that you could surprise her, “I am going to have a magical picnic and you can’t do anything to stop it!”

A picnic on lake shore was not entirely what Stella was expecting…honestly she had no clue what this day entailed besides the fact that all she needed was good snacks to be all in.

She’s getting ready to sit across from you but not without saying, “yeah, but the bugs can.”

“Don’t tell me thee Stella-Star is an afraid of a little green friend.”

“That ain’t no friend of mine,” Stella’s face is scrunched up as she watched the grasshopper get comfy on her portion of the blanket, “…can you uh—get it?”

You laugh, “really?” As you lean forward, holding out a bottle of water so the insect can crawl onto before you lead it elsewhere, “there. Nobody was harmed and everyone is safe.”

“You’re lucky I like you, otherwise I would have stomped its ass out,” Stella huffs as she plops down now staring at the bottle you used, “also that one is yours.”

“Understood,” you laugh once more before opening up the basket to reveal it contents, leaving Stella further impressed as she peeks inside.

It’s such a good day in Chicago, little birds chirping along, the spin on the bike wheels in the distance could still be heard up on the slope, while the wind brushes by from the lake and the sunlight still shined bright although the city’s buildings were as tall as they could be.

There’s a brief silence as you dive into the snacks and take turns from the jug that contained a berry lemonade you actually made, before falling into natural chatter.

It felt right being here with each other and it’s something you already knew that you would want to do again.

You never doubted that.

The sunlight was behind Stella whereas it shined over you. The both of you found that each of you were a beautiful sight to witness and Stella was just glad she chose to wear her hair back into a ponytail since the spring wind picked up every so often.

Soon you’re laying side by side now, just a inch of space in between your heads but close enough to feel the warmth from each other and for you to smell the amber, Tonka, and plum that radiates from her frame.

“You smell good, girl.” You comment, pulling yourself from zoning out while making Stella pry open her eyes.

The way you’re peering up at her, almost makes her choke on her own air. “Thanks,” she manages to wheeze out, “I picked it out myself!”

Stella knows she sounds silly but you find amusement in her pride nonetheless.

So she attempts to clean up, arm cradling the back of her head as a smirk appears on her lips at her next best idea with the compliment flying out of her lips, “Your beauty outshines all the flowers.”

There’s barely a daisy embedded in the grass somewhere up ahead but it’s the first thing that comes out of her pretty pouty lips.

You squint up at her as you question, “Are you sure? The flowers are really pretty this year.” 

You would know better than her with what’s in season and what not but something tells Stella, just by the way you break your stare that you may have some flaws you’re not too proud to speak about and that alone makes Stella frown a bit.

Before she can register what she’s doing, her fingers are reaching for your jaw, pulling your attention back to her’s, “are you kidding?! I’m damn sure and as corny as this is going to sound: you’d be my first flower I’d pick out of any garden. Anybody would and that’s because I said so! My word means a lot ya know?”

Your eyes shine like water but you don’t hold back a snort, “is does huh? Well I guess I have no choice but to believe you then.”

Stella’s chewing on her bottom lip now because there’s something in the air that’s telling her to just plant one on you.

“Stop me at any time,” she starts with a deep inhale, catching your eyes briefly on her mouth.

The corner’s of your mouth lift as you whisper, “do your worst, Stella-star.”

And with her lips on yours, you exhale as Stella breathes you in. Both hands are cupping your face as your lips move together in perfect unison and your hands shift from grasping her shoulder then down to her waist.

She’s watching your face in complete bliss when she decides to pull away but not fully, “was that okay?” She says against your lips.

“More than okay,” you nod at her with a beam before moving forward with another, “and I don’t think I said i was finished.”

Which leads into a full makeout session, and that’s something Stella is usually down for—especially if she’s had some drinks in her system but without the alcohol—she wouldn’t mind being drunk on you.

She’s on top of you now, and it quickly becomes a challenge of who gets to hold that position for the longest, erupting laughter between you two and Stella decides to cave once you both knock forehead’s.

You’re both panting now but there’s still laughter in your lungs and Stella is staring up at you adoringly, rubbing her head, while you caress the shape of her mouth, “what?” You quiz.

“You taste sweeter than I imagined.”

You smile, “so you thought about me in that way? I guess that means you really like me.”

“I couldn’t tell if you liked me!” Stella ran one hand over the top of her hair, clearly frustrated.

You snicker, “I thought I was pretty open with my flirtations but…I really like you too.”

And that’s all that matters to Stella as she’s pulling your face right back to hers.

Strawberries require well drained soil, they must be placed on a gradual slope, and receive full sunlight in order to experience successful growth.

᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘ 𓅪 ⚘𖥧᠂ 𖡼᠃ ˖𓍢ִ໋ ᠃ 𖡼᠂ 𖥧⚘

Continue with my spring anthology prompts here.

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Ohhh please do 37. Do you think they could have loved me? Extra points if you make it sad but sweet/give it a positive ending ✨ I love ur writing btw!

Thank you so much for the prompt and for your kind words! I'm sorry for taking so long, but I hope the positive ending makes up for the wait!

Steve doesn't talk about his parents often. Scratch that, he doesn't talk about them at all, but that doesn't mean their presence doesn't loom over him, casting prolonged shadows over everything he does, everything he is. He knows they are disappointed in his failures, his choices, only suffering his presence in their home because they know they would be judged. Public opinion matters to them more than their only son.

And Steve seems to believe everything they say about him, just takes it when they call once every few months and berate him for not utilizing his talents, not securing a sports scholarship ("we paid for your hobbies, Steven, all the equipment, and there is zero return. We really hoped you'd amount to something"), not doing what he's supposed to be good at. If someone calls him a failure, a washed-out ex-jock who peaked in high school, he just shrugs and never tries to refute it. Eddie sometimes wants to grab him by the shoulders, shake him, yell at him to believe in himself more. And if that isn't ridiculous, the master of self-deprecation lecturing the former king on self-esteem. But that's what friends do and Eddie wants to be a good friend to Steve. Maybe more, but that's not on the menu and Eddie will gladly accept any Steve-shaped dish he's offered.

So when the letter comes one week before his twentieth birthday, Steve isn't surprised. He skims over the precise, thin lines, his lips moving as he reads that he's on his own. His parents are starting over somewhere else and graciously left him the house (or what's left of it after the earthquake, even though Steve and all his friends did their best to fix it up). They say they'll gladly hear from him if he gets his life back on track, but until then he should think hard and long about what he wants and what he sacrifices by the company he keeps, the dead end jobs, his unsatisfactory choices. Eddie doesn't read the letter directly but sees Steve's expression, reads his lips, and even when Steve offers a small smile, saying that it had been long time coming, Eddie can't help but notice his trembling fingers and glassiness of his eyes. He wishes he could say something to make Steve feel better, but there is nothing, no hollow reassurances to make the hurt go away. He just offers to share a joint and lets Steve sag against him, lost in thoughts.

Eddie suspects that Steve must have fallen asleep, but then he hears that sentence and his heart skips a beat.

"Do you think they could have loved me?" Steve whispers against Eddie's shoulder.

He swallows, breath catching in his throat. "What...what do you mean, Steve?"

Maybe it's just his imagination, but doesn't his t-shirt feel a bit wet? "It's just...I wonder if I could have done something differently. I'm not smart, but I could have tried more. Maybe start in dad's company, prove him wrong. I've always thought they don't want to be around because I failed them, but...I wonder. I wonder if I tried more, if they'd still be around. If they could have loved me if I was who they wanted as a son."

Steve's voice is weak, defeated, and Eddie burns with rage, tightening his fingers into a fist. There were so many things he wants to do to those assholes and he marvels at the image of his rings tearing Harrington senior's stern face into shreds. He reaches behind Steve and squeezes his shoulders, pulls him into a clumsy hug. "I don't think they could have loved anyone, Steve," he mutters against Steve's hair. "No one but themselves."

And Steve seems to accept that, his breathing becomes more even and when they eventually say good night, he's smiling again. As Eddie climbs into his van and drives back to the tiny house government kindly provided for him and Wayne, he starts thinking. The next morning, he makes several calls.

Twenty years from the day Steve was born, Robin throws Steve a huge birthday party - in his own Frankenhouse, she had Dustin drag Steve away for the whole day and the excuses the young man comes up with are absurd, but Steve follows him, not questioning anything. He just enjoys Dustin's company. Dustin rambles about finding a perfect gift for Suzie for their anniversary (and when Steve points out that their anniversary was three months ago, Dustin scrambles up an excuse that it's actually for their half anniversary and he wants to customize the gift a bit, plus Steve is the only one he trusts with dating advice, so really he can't ditch him before they find the perfect thing, maybe they can stop for a lunch in the meantime, and does Steve want to be invited for a coffee or something for his birthday? Steve's eyes tear up a little at that because Dustin remembered what day it was and if that didn't make the younger man swear to all gods that the party had to be the best thing Steve ever experienced.

In the meantime, Robin, Eddie, Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle and the whole party minus the distraction do their best to make that prayer come true. They decorate the house, build an improvised pyramid of presents and bake a cake - there might have been a small fight over how to decorate and El wins by suggesting they should shape seven small figures representing them and a spiked bat from marzipan. The results are...questionable, but recognizable.

Eddie might have pushed them to go a bit overboard, gathered a crew of teenage boys to paint Steve's living room since its owner always complained about the peeling paint and impersonal taste of his parents. They create a surprisingly seamless gradient of yellow and orange, brightening the room and splashing the ugly couch in the process. When Mike sees the drops, he remembers that Steve really disliked this piece of furniture ("it's like sitting in a hospital", he used to say) and promptly writes FUCK THIS COUCH, YOU DESERVE A BETTER ONE, STEVE on the uncomfortable surface.

When they radio Dustin that it's safe to come back, Dustin basically shoves Steve inside and there is shared concern when Steve freezes as he takes in the new wall, the presents, the cake and a handmade banner saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO OUR FAVORITE BABYSITTER/DINGUS. Then, to the surprise of everyone, he lets out a huge sob and collapses against the door. Eddie and Robin rush to him, removing his hands from his face, but he's beaming at them through the tears, pulling them into a clumsy hug. In the end, Argyle yells for a hug pile and Steve is suddenly squished by seven kids and five adults. He can't even bring himself to scold them for disregarding their safety.

As they pull him up and slowly disperse to bring over plates and drinks, Eddie adjusts Steve's hair to its usual perfection. "Now, you asked me something a few days back, Steve," he says quietly so only Steve can hear. "And I didn't have a good answer. But I have one now. Because those jerks not loving you has nothing to do with you, they're just damaged sorry excuses for human beings. So no, they couldn't have loved you no matter how hard you tried and for that they suck, so fucking much. But all of us," he gestures towards the people who gathered in his house for him, for Steve Harrington, "happen to agree they have a single redeeming quality. They gave us the most selfless and metal guy we've ever had the pleasure to know."

"Eddie-!" Steve gasps and he looks as if he's about to cry again, and well, screw respectful distance. Eddie touches his face and wipes the residual tears away, taking care of the new ones too in the process.

"Shh, big boy," he soothes him and grabs his hand, leading him into the kitchen, the living room still smelling too much like paint to spend the whole evening there.

Steve looks around and watches his friends, his loved ones. He sees Erica bringing disconcertingly large knives to cut up the cake, El floating confetti with her powers and Mike and Will quickly scribbling an additional gift for Steve - a promise from Will to paint Steve a mural of his choice on the new wall, Mike joining in to mix paint and provide snacks. He sees Argyle and Jonathan blowing up party baloons and playing with static electricity, making their hair stick up in the weirdest ways possible, Robin and Nancy giggling at them and betting who can get the wildest hairstyle. He sees Max and Lucas arguing in hushed voices about which present Steve's going to like the best. And of course he sees Dustin who sneaks past Eddie, steals his lighter and starts lighting the candles on his cake.

They all gather around him, smiling, even Max has a grin on her usually stoic face. The metalhead beams at Steve and theatrically grabs a glass and a spoon, ringing them for attention. When everyone goes quiet, he climbs on top of a chair and clears his throat. "I will keep this short, we're all tired and your cake looks delicious, sue me. Ahem. From all of us who happen to love you, Steve Harrington, with all your pretty much non-existent flaws except for outshining all of our hair and not caring enough about the best tabletop game in the world - happy birthday. We're all fucking glad you were born."

As everyone claps and cheers, Eddie jumps down and pushes Steve into the circle of his friends, towards the cake.

Robin hugs him and tells him to blow the candles. "Wish for something, dingus."

Steve snorts, leans over the cake and thinks hard, as his parents told him, thinks about what he wants. His eyes still linger on his friends. "I can't think of a single thing," he admits with a huff.

"Aww, isn't he cute," teases Eddie, nudging Dustin's side.

Steve's eyes stay on Eddie for long, stretching seconds. "Well, maybe one thing." As he blows out the candles, he maintains eye contact with Eddie and well, doesn't the dungeon master have the prettiest blush he's ever seen.

And maybe it's birthday magic, maybe it's the universe trying to restore some balance into Steve's shitty life, but in this particular case wishes do come true. They come true on the same evening when Steve sneaks out with Eddie to share a cigarette, it involves a rogue drop of cake cream on Eddie's lips and who are they to waste such a great dessert?

Steve's parents could have never loved him, it's a simple fact. But for the first time in his life, he doesn't care a single bit.

(also, Steve does keep the couch, refusing to get it cleaned no matter what. He considers it a staple piece in his living room and Mike feels ridiculously proud whenever he sees it)

[lexsnotdead]

Sometimes i forget that Delilah/Breanna aren't 100% canon to everyone bc of "ambiguous relationship" part and some people not wanting to see them as bi & lesbian

And it drives me insane

Everytime i see fic where Delilah or Breanna call each other friends while being alone (or in their own thoughts) I want to bite 😭😭 Something or someone

I sit here and think "Breanna sacrificing 10+ years or her life to save Delilah from her death AND falling on her knees for her is so friendly fr"

I'm okay with people who think that they're way too toxic or something/"Delilah can't love" but Breanna is a walking fruit basket. She radiates "gay".

~~~~~~~~

Sorry for whole essay about Bree and Del but my anonymous ass trusts that you'd understand me at least to some degree bc you ship them

Hope ur doing well, sending best wishes for the week lol

HI ANON YOU CANNOT IMAGINE THE AMOUNT OF SEARCHING I DID FOR THIS. anyway. okay... deep breath... yeah, i know, it drives me insane as well. although i haven't come across a Hot Take like that in ages, most likely because i was blocking on sight for this. "not 100% canon to everyone" have we played the same game? maybe it's easy for me to say because i myself am a wlw and i KNOW yuri when i see one. it is really hard for me to imagine how can one look at the way breanna and delilah talk to each other and fail to spot the profound pinning.

• delilah saying "murderer! you can't understand what she meant to me", when you kill breanna in front of her.

• delilah saying "you're the only one i trust".

• delilah swinging her sword at you with "this is for what you did to breanna", in the last mission.

• a with in the royal conservatory saying "breanna was with delilah when you were sucking on your mother's tit. it's not a joke to them"

• breanna's surprise when she spots corvo "a man? here?!" is truly a Peak Lesbian Moment. - i could go on and on.

OHHH AND THE LETTER. THE LETTER!! it makes me lose my mind every time i read it!! whatever breanna had going on in there is more lesbian than eating pussy.

"When we can't talk, I write. There are things only you will understand. (...) If we were together, I could say more! It is as if I can see beyond the air, into another time or place. (...) Oh, Delilah, strange and beautiful whispers are carried on the breeze. I am forever grateful of being your instrument." >>> i'm madly in love with you.

how can you read this and go hmm yeah they were definitely besties! MUST EVERYTHING BE DIRECT FOR YOU PEOPLE?? sorry to disappoint, but that's not how sapphics express attraction. learn to read between the lines. because this, too, is yuri.

and the wiki page is to blame for the "ambiguous" part. BECAUSE HARVEY SMITH DIDN'T SAY "AMBIGUOUS". HE DID NOT. harvey confirmed their relationship some time back in 2016, but since then he deleted all of his tweets and we were left with no elaboration. and as for now it is almost impossible to find sources. "almost". he-he. wink. i saved that from a tumblr post god knows how long ago and couldn't find the op. if anyone knows who to credit for this, i'd be grateful.

does "i totally assumed that" equal uncertainty? maybe my non-native ass is missing something, but it all seems very clear to me.

which makes "some people not wanting to see them as bi & lesbian" part even more frustrating. they are both indisputably queer! and that being stated by the dev and not in the game itself is not an excuse to deny their sexuality and ship breanna with men.

harvey's tweet and in-game lines combined should be enough evidence to prove that delilah and breanna were, in fact, lovers, and if anyone says otherwise, it's a conscious choice to deny/ignore it for whatever reasons, not because there isn't enough evidence for their relationship. believe me, anon, i share every drop of irritation you have in double.

and "delilah can't love" is another very big topic where i could talk for hours and i would rather not make this reply any longer than it has to be. i already ranted quite a lot here haha. anyway, ty for the ask! :] i'm always happy to write mini-essays about delilah and breanna. i hope you have a great day as well!!