#Spoiler alert: Cinnamon's not dead

[fluentmoviequoter]

Ailing at Lockland

A Victor Vale sickfic for @boozy-the-ghost! Thanks for sharing this amazing idea!!

Characters: Victor Vale, Eli Ever, Angie Knight (Lockland era, of course)

Summary: When Victor gets sick and tries to hide it, the people closest to him help him get better.

Warnings: sickfic, spoilers for Vicious, comfort, cats

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

This beautiful art is from Pinterest!!

The worst part about sleeping is that it involves your brain. The SCN and the thalamus keep you awake and alert; for someone whose brain doesn’t seem to quiet, however, sleep becomes practically impossible. As Victor lies awake, thumbing through a textbook he’s already read, he wonders what sleep is like for average people. Or to be normal in any other way. When his eyelids grow heavy, he pushes the book away before he falls asleep, without time to realize how unusual it is for him to fall asleep so early in the morning.

Three hours later, the sun has yet to rise over Lockland. Victor blinks his eyes open, and they feel heavier than just before he went to sleep. Victor quickly notices his scratchy throat and runny nose as he wakes. Usually, his lack of sleep provides what Eli calls his “sunny disposition." Today, his restless sleep and the beginnings of a cold work together to make Victor Vale miserable. He dresses slowly, grateful that his style requires little thought to create an outfit. His mind is racing, as usual, but the congestion in his head and pain in his throat distract him from any meaningful thought. Once he’s ready, Victor drags his feet as he exits his room.

Eli’s back is to Victor as he falls heavily into a chair. Victor hums as Eli slides a bowl of cereal before him. He doesn’t pick up the spoon as he fights to keep his eyes open and leans toward the table.

“I don’t understand how you eat that stuff,” Eli says from their small, shared kitchen. “It’s just carbs and sugar.”

When Victor doesn’t argue or even acknowledge Eli’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch Slander, Eli turns to look at Victor. He seems dead on his feet (or, seat), half asleep, like he’s about to collapse into his favored Cinnamon Toast Crunch that is absolutely soggy now.

“Vic, you alright?” Eli inquires.

“Yeah,” Victor answers quickly.

He sounds different - stuffy - but Eli decides not to ask any more questions. They may not always see eye-to-eye, but Eli feels bad for his roommate and friend. He makes coffee; the strong, bitter-smelling kind Victor prefers, and puts a full mug beside his cereal. Victor nods his thanks and pulls the hot mug closer, keeping his hands and face close to it between sips. 

After finishing his coffee, Victor tosses his cereal, though he wishes he had been able to eat it because it’s his favorite. He gathers his things and prepares to go to class but is stopped by Eli extending his hand, with a cereal box in it, to block the path to the door.

“You’re sick,” Eli points out.

Victor rolls his eyes and pushes the healthy, flavorless cereal back toward Eli. “I’m fine,” he lies. “Bye.”

Victor Vale is willing to do a lot of things, many of which are immoral, but missing class for a mild case of the sniffles that will probably pass by lunch is not something he will do. By the time he reaches his class across campus, his throat has begun to burn and is scratchy, like it needs to be cleared. Victor feels a sneeze rising and does everything he can to stop it: holding his breath until it passes, pushing his tongue to the back of his tongue, and simply covering his nose so he can’t. It will be a long day, Victor knows, but it's just the sniffles. He has to tell himself more than once before he believes it.

Someone taps Victor’s shoulder before extending a pack of tissues over his shoulder. He takes them quickly and without thanks. If the people sitting around him in the lecture can tell that he’s stifling sneezes, sniffing silently, and trying not to clear his throat every other second, then it is probably obvious that he’s coming down with something. Refusing to admit it and hiding the cold won’t help it pass, but Victor has more important things to do. So, he keeps the tissues close and thinks about what he could do for his thesis rather than the anatomical diagram he’s supposed to be studying.

Victor throws away the empty tissue package as he walks to Lockland’s obnoxiously large cafeteria for lunch. Eli already knows he isn’t feeling his best, but Victor refuses to let him see that he’s feeling worse now. 

“Hello, boys,” Angie greets as she walks behind them.

“Hey,” Victor answers.

“You’re sick.”

“I knew it,” Eli exclaims quietly. “Why didn’t you just stay home?”

“I’m not sick,” Victor argues.

“Your voice is distorted, you’re stuffy and stiff… How bad do you feel?”

Angie presses the back of her hand to Victor’s forehead. His blinks grow slow at her touch, and when she flips her hands to card her fingers through his pale hair, he leans toward her.

“I know you better than him,” she whispers, pointing to Eli. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Victor wants nothing more than to ask her to keep doing what she’s doing and to accept her fussing and care. He has an image to maintain, so he can’t let her see that he likes being cared for. Not that he’s used to it, of course, but based on the gentle touches and soft questions, he thinks he’d like it.

“C’mon, there’s a restaurant over here with the most amazing soup. We’ll meet you at the usual table Eli,” Angie says.

“Got it,” Eli answers.

Victor lets Angie wrap her hands around his arm and lead the way to one of the countless restaurants. He leans against her, just enough to let her know that he appreciates her but not enough that anyone else can see him vulnerable. Unfortunately, lunch passes too quickly, and Angie’s soup and care have an expiration date. She leaves first to make a lab across campus, and Victor walks beside Eli to their last lecture of the day. Eli doesn’t ask Victor anything about how he feels but glances over every few minutes and swears Victor looks sicker each time.

Less than halfway through the hour-long class, Eli leans toward Victor and takes his pen before he falls forward onto it and pokes his eye out. Victor blinks slowly before turning toward Eli.

“Go home,” Eli demands quietly. “I’ll take the best notes I’ve ever taken, but you’re not even paying attention.”

Victor stares at him for a moment before nodding. He picks up his bag but leaves his notebook and pen behind for Eli. Despite his jumbled thoughts and lack of clarity, Victor’s muscle memory gets him home. He changes into his most comfortable black outfit and makes himself comfortable curled in a bundle of blankets in the center of his bed. For once, Victor falls asleep without a problem and doesn’t worry about the notes Eli will take for him.

“Vic?” Eli asks.

He nudges the door closed and walks toward Victor’s closed bedroom door. There’s no sign of him in the common area, but as Eli opens the door, he sees Victor, or at least Victor’s face protruding from a nest of blankets. Victor’s nose and cheeks are pink, and he’s sleeping deeply. Eli blows out a concerned breath; Victor never sleeps in the middle of the day, and the symptoms he witnessed earlier, combined with the evidence he sees now, convince Eli that Victor is sick.

He sets the drugstore bags on Victor’s desk and lays a hand on Victor’s shoulder. Victor moves under the blankets but doesn’t wake until Eli says his name and shakes him gently.

“Eli?” Victor asks.

His throat is scratchier than it was earlier, and his voice sounds rough. He coughs to clear it but only succeeds in making himself sneeze. Eli moves the bags to Victor’s bed so he can reach them. He dumps the first bag out, and Victor takes the Kleenex while Eli rips the bag of cough drops open. 

Eli retrieves the small trash can from under Victor’s desk, and Victor sets it on his nightstand for easy access. The second bag draws his attention, and he reaches for it before glancing back at Eli.

“It’s all yours,” Eli says.

Victor looks down before pulling a bottle of apple juice and a box of crackers out of the bag. There are a few other snacks and an electrolyte drink, but since the only thing he’s consumed today is coffee and soup, the apple juice and crackers are the most appealing.

Victor holds the apple juice to his chest and looks up at Eli. He turns around quickly and returns to his nest of blankets. 

With his back toward Eli, Victor says, “Thank you,” before sneezing several times.

“No problem,” Eli replies. “Do you need anything else?”

Victor considers for a moment. He’s never had someone take care of him, let alone when he was sick. It makes him uncomfortable knowing that Eli is so close while he’s in such a state, but he’s also touched that Eli cares enough to take notes and buy him things to make him feel better.

“Actually, can I use your desk to copy the notes I took for you?” Eli asks.

Victor quickly agrees. He likes the idea of company and more attention but he’s also internally questioning why Eli is being so kind to him in his time of need. Eli turns on the television over Victor’s desk and switches to a cat documentary on Animal Planet.

Victor turns toward the screen and indulges in the apple juice and crackers while he watches. Eli looks up occasionally but remains focused on the notes rather than Victor. When he’s finished and Victor begins a sneezing fit, Eli exits the room suddenly. Victor watches the door until he returns.

“I got punished for being sick,” Eli says as he sits in Victor’s desk chair again. “So, I can understand not wanting to tell people you’re not at 100%, for whatever reason.”

“God wouldn’t have made you sick if you were good?” Victor guesses.

“Something like that.”

“I just got ignored. Learned to deal with it myself long before I should have.”

“If you need anything else, just let me know,” Eli offers.

“I will. Thanks, Eli.”

Eli sets a new box of Cinnamon Toast Crunch on the bed as he stands. “I ran out of my cereal, so I ate yours. Here’s a replacement.”

“It’s good isn’t it?” Victor asks before sneezing.

“I can feel my arteries closing,” Eli deadpans. "Diabetes will claim me soon."

Eli closes the door behind him, and Victor shifts into a more comfortable position to finish the documentary. He feels better already, and despite not being sure if he wants company or complete privacy to be sick in peace, he’s thankful that he’s not alone anymore. Even if it’s only until he heals.

[artcoffeecats]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Rules: Answer the questions as yourself or as an OC of your choice

Thank you for the tag @mariahwritesstuff!

My 15 NO PRESSURE tags are: @vicstmichael, @saphoblin, @vvitch-mist, @regalserpent, @alwaysastrophel, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @toribookworm22, @minutiaewriter, @aquil-writes, @islanded-in-a-stream-of-stars that's all I can come up with thanks feel free to do it even if I didn't tag you hehe

I'll answer as Micah Stillwater and Andrew Vidasche, MCs from THE HEARTWOOD TRILOGY.

1. Are you named after anyone?

Nope I don't think so! I'm not supposed to know but my name is an anglicized version of my original Japanese name Myoku

My middle name, Phalen, was my maternal grandfather's name.

2. When was the last time you cried?

I don't know, probably ten minutes ago, or a couple hours ago, or yesterday. What? My boyfriend says crying's manly.

I don't cry.

Andrew.

Fine. When we watched Marley & Me.

3. Do you have kids?

Not in the traditional sense, but we have a shapeshifting wolf that calls us Dads! hehe

What he said.

4. Do you use sarcasm?

Um, I'm not very good at it tbh

Fluently.

5. What's the first thing you notice about people?

I will stare deep into your eyes the moment we meet! And probably secondly boobs.

Whether or not you're in my way, most likely, otherwise probably nothing.

6. What's your eye color?

Ugh I don't want to talk about my eyes they're purple

Poop brown.

Ol poo eyes

Thanks love.

7. Scary movies or happy endings?

I'll watch scary movies if we can cuddle during them

What about...scary movies WITH happy endings? I don't know, I'll watch both EVIL DEAD or PRIDE & PREJUDICE, it all depends.

8. Any special talents?

Hehe. A few. I can grow plants at will, and heal people, and charm people. Oh, and I can talk to cats.

I mean, I'm alive. Isn't that enough?

He can also shoot a crossbow and swordfight and do like any European accent you ask him to but YOU KNOW

I guess...

9. Where were you born?

My mother's magical Redwood domain in Washington

Liverpool, unfortunately

10. What are your hobbies?

I like making bubble tea! And hanging out with cats! And playing PC games! And painting! And cooking with my dad but I'M BAD AT IT

I like computer programming, reading, history, and...I don't know, drinking whiskey?

11. Have you any pets?

I have a cat named Cinnamon and I'm going to go ahead and count Andrew's cat Arwen as mine too hehe

Ingrid would say that our shapeshifting wolf daughter is a pet...but otherwise just Arwen who IS NOT MICAH'S CAT

12. What sports do you play/have played?

Well in the Redwoods I did lots of skirmishing, and then I tried out for football in college and FAILED MISERABLY

Haha what's a sport

Andrew you did fencing

That hardly constitutes

Haha okay babe

13. How tall are you?

5'11 sadly

6'2 I think?

He's TALL

14. Favorite subject in school?

Haha uh...recess? Really I guess I liked my psychology classes all right, and English

History and Math

You're such a jack of all trades babe

Haha look who's talking.

15. Dream job?

Ummm I guess I got it when I managed the bubble tea shop but HAD TO GIVE IT ALL UP BECAUSE MAGIC

I would teach university history classes or write books on folklore

Spoiler alert: he's gonna do that

[sugar-rune-incorrect-quotes]

Cinnamon: Avenge my death.

Candy: You're not dying.

Cinnamon: AVENGE ME!

[yournameoneverypage]

Quiet Fears

Shawn Mendes x reader. Word Count: ~1.3k Notes: Comfort, a bit of sexiness (which was an honest accident, LOL), fluff. Warnings: An Outer Banks spoiler? Maybe slightly NSFW?

~ * ~

Dropping his keys with a clink in the dish on the console table just inside the door of his condo, the first sound Shawn heard was your sniffling and soft sobbing. His heart rate ratcheted and concern flooded through him. He rushed into the living room to find you curled up on the sofa, Tarzan close against you with his muzzle on your thigh, your nose buried in a few tissues.

He hurried to your side and dropped down onto the cushions, gently placing his hand on your back. “What’s wrong, Love? What happened?”

When you turned to him, he cupped your face in tender hands and wiped the tears from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs.

You gestured toward the television, where a scene from your most recent Netflix binge, Outer Banks, was stilled. “Sarah died.”

“Oh,” he exhaled with profound relief. “You worried me. I thought something had happened.”

You huffed. “Sarah died!”

Shawn tried not to chuckle. He could see that you weren’t finding this as amusing as he was. He only wanted to make things better when he reassured you, “She’s not dead.”

Your eyes grew wide, your mouth fell open. “Shawn!”

“Shit! You haven’t gotten there yet??”

“I paused when I heard you come in!” you reprimanded.

“Sorry, babe. Spoiler alert?” He smirked then, unable to hide his mirth.

You lightly thumped his chest. Suddenly your eyes narrowed at him. “And how do you already know that?? Did you watch ahead without me?!”

“Says the woman who, until a moment ago, thought she was watching ahead without me.”

He got you there. You pouted. He started giggling. You gently pushed him away, not only because he was laughing at you but because you had been caught. “It’s not funny!” you contended weakly, yet still allowed him to pull you closer and tuck you into his side.

“Admit it. It kind of is,” he grinned, dropping his lips to the crown of your head and kissing you, breathing in traces of pink grapefruit and cinnamon.

“Okay, maybe a little,” you whispered with a small chuckle. You wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his chest.

“What’s this really about?” he wondered. You had been more emotional than usual of late, and clingier. He felt there must be more going on in your mind and heart. “Why did a fictional character’s death hit you so hard?”

It shouldn’t have surprised you, how well he knew you, but somehow it always did. You met his eyes and confessed your quiet fear to him, which had seemingly come out of nowhere. “I started to think what would happen if I ever lost you.” Your tears threatened to spill over again.

“Oh bub,” he cooed. “Come here.” He pulled you into his lap, turning you to face him, encompassing you in strong, comforting arms. “You’re not going to lose me, I promise. I’ll always be right here.”

His hands slid up your back, under the oversized t-shirt you were wearing. Oversized on you because it was his. You had always liked to be wrapped in his scent, but lately it was more soothing than usual. Your skin was especially warm under his palms.

You took his face in your hands and kissed him, languorously. Once you separated to breathe, your hands encircled his neck and you tangled your fingers in the curls there. His hair was getting long again.

Shawn smiled lovingly, kissed your chin, and asked, “You wanna keep watching?” His hands had stroked further up your back and around your ribcage, the pads of his thumbs caressing the swells at the sides of your bare breasts.

“Later,” you breathed, hands bunching in the cotton of his shirt. You proceeded to pull his V-neck up and over his head. You lowered your lips to the curve of his jawline. “I need you,” you purred and nipped at his skin.

Your sexual appetite had increased over the past few weeks; it seemed you couldn’t get enough of him. Not that he was complaining. He noticed how your underlying scent, the scent that was only you, had begun to change. Your taste as well, he rapidly realized, thinking of the night before when he’d been tongue deep in your pussy. You were more sensitive to his touch, near excessively; you orgasmed more easily and much quicker.

Shawn’s heart began to thump faster and he felt the blood rush in his ears. He eased away and you whined. “I know, sweetheart,” he snickered, “you can have me, in just a minute.”

You writhed against him beneath you, humming, chasing that delicious friction. He groaned, his cock filling swiftly, his control wavering, and gripped your hips to try to calm you. “Baby?”

You had already started to slip into that sex haze. “Hm?” You met his eyes, your own a darkened hue, pupils dilating.

“I think... I mean, it’s just a suspicion, but... Could you be pregnant?”

His words fell upon you like a torrent from the sky. You abruptly stilled. “I- I don’t know,” you rasped. You thought back to your last period, or what you had thought was your last period. It had been lighter than usual, only a few days of spotting. You gasped with dawning comprehension. Maybe that little bug you had a couple of weeks ago wasn’t a bug after all.

You hadn’t been trying to conceive, but you also hadn’t been not trying.

You lifted Shawn’s shirt to bare your stomach, holding the cotton up to your breasts. Your eyes fell to your waist as you covered it with your other hand. When you brought your eyes up again, you found Shawn looking at your stomach in quiet awe. He gently replaced your hand with his and started caressing the soft skin across your middle, his other splayed against the small of your back.

He knew your body better than you did, with as much attention as he lavished upon it. The same could be said of you when it came to him. It wouldn’t surprise you if he had noticed before you had. Your stomach was almost unnoticeably distended and didn’t give quite as easily as it normally did. He began to tremble, and you knew.

“How- how would-” you stuttered, whispered, “how would that make you feel?”

His eyes leapt to yours, his gaze deep and soulful. He didn’t want to crush you with the excitement bubbling beneath his skin if you weren’t feeling the same. “Do you want this, Love? Would you be happy?”

You nodded, earnestly, eyes glistening. He drew you even closer, one arm around your waist, the other across your upper back, until there was barely any space between you. Your hands moved to the back of his head, your thumbs resting at his temples, and your lips fell together again. You could feel his smile against your mouth and you giggled, which set him giggling as well.

Easing away from you, he murmured, “If you’re truly carrying our little bean, I would be even happier than I was the day we said, ‘I do’.” Indeed, he was shining more brightly than he had been on your wedding day.

You were overwhelmed with how much you loved him. “You’re ready to be a daddy?”

“I am,” he smiled dreamily. “I’m ready.” His voice held enough conviction for the both of you.

“And if I’m not...pregnant?” You cleared the emotion from your throat and breathed, “If there’s no bean?”

“Then I’m going to put one there,” he smirked. He stood abruptly, tightening his arms around you.

You shrieked, having to quickly wrap your legs securely around his hips and squeeze your arms around his neck. His laughter tickled against the skin beneath your ear, sending a shiver zipping along your spine.

His strength to lift you in his arms from sitting, and the way the muscles stretched and bulged across his broad back when he shifted his hands to hold you beneath your bottom, made you quiver, almost violently. When he bit down on the flesh at the crook of your neck, your libido rocketed.

You attached your lips to his again, deep and hungry, all teeth and tongue, while he carried you toward your bedroom.

~ * ~

@theregoesmyherojd @mendesblurb @benito-mi-vida @silverswallow @weedangel-x

[fanficimagery]

a field of daisies

Imagine running into a group of survivors that you decide to take a chance on and bring them home with you. Your decision ends up leading to a reunion no one saw coming, not even yourself.

Words: 7.1K Author's Note: TWD AU. This particular universe has a lot of characters and making sure everyone has a line or three is tough work, so I made up my mind to only keep a select few. This will take place after the prison has fallen, but before Terminus so the group is not as harsh because of what happened there. I get why everyone turned ruthless, but damn.. Rick got scary. Haha. Also, just so you know, Y/N is a powered individual (the gif of Wanda is just to show how your powers look/work). SPOILER ALERT! This piece of work is.. slow. There's nothing much to it- it's honestly just Y/N bringing the group into the fold. I've been having a rough few weeks and it really shows in my writing. I'm sorry this sucks, but I really needed to get something out.

It was pure dumb luck that Rick, Daryl, Michonne, Carl, Judith, Glenn, Maggie and Carol ended up together after the fall of the prison. Rick and Carl had fled together, Michonne followed the blood trail Rick had unknowingly left behind, and Daryl had later caught up to them because he was with a new group that was hunting Rick which he didn't know about until it was too late. Daryl, Rick and Michonne took care of things quickly, and it was a relief to Rick that Daryl still had his back.

Glenn and Maggie came a couple days later with Judith snuggled into a makeshift pack hanging off of Glenn's back, and the group stumbled upon Carol who kept them from entering the so-called sanctuary called Terminus. Apparently she had been keeping an eye on the place from afar, and after the horrors she witnessed Rick and the others were glad they just so happened to choose the entrance she was near so that she was able to stop them.

Hershel's death still weighed heavily on everyone's mind and Maggie was sad that she didn't know what had become of her sister Beth. Lots of people's fates were unknown, but the ones that left everyone the most downtrodden were those of the children that the prison had housed.

The group has taken momentary refuge in a barn, their spirits low and dwindling even more as the days pass. Food and water were scarce, and ammunition was pretty much nonexistent. Daryl had a handful of arrows left and everyone was left to depend on blades to protect themselves.

Judith's sudden cry pierces the quiet of the barn and everyone flinches. Rick readily gets to his feet, rushing towards his daughter and lifting her from the bed of hay they designated as her bed. "Shh. I got 'ya. I got 'ya, sweetheart."

Carl joins his father, frowning at his sister's reddening face. "She's hungry, isn't she?"

"We all are," Rick grumbles.

"There's got to be something out there," the young boy sighs. "A place we haven't come across or a house that's not been picked clean."

"Everyone's tired, Carl. We're all running on fumes." Rick continues to rock his baby girl, heart breaking when her wails only get louder and more desperate. "If we go searchin', we're likely to make a mistake and someone will lose their life."

"Well we can't let her starve."

Rick glances around his exhausted group, a look of determination in each of their features. He sighs and glances down at Judith in his arms. "Tomorrow. We'll go lookin' when the sun is up."

Carl nods and brushes his finger along Judith's brow before leaving his father to settle the baby down on his own.

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You'd been gone for a day and half now, intent on finding some things those in your community have asked for. Unfortunately everything close by had been picked clean which led you to driving further and further out, and right into an oncoming storm.

You tried to drive right on through it, but the rain just came down so hard to the point that you could not see through the windshield. And since it was nighttime, you knew there was a high chance you could wreck. So you pull off to the side, cut the engine and lean back in your seat to wait it out.

Thunder rumbles so loud it actually shakes the truck you're in and lightning strikes a tree not even a hundred yards away. "Oh screw this," you mumble to yourself. You turn the truck back on, carefully inching your way down the road and hope that you don't hit anything. But then lightning strikes again, you swerve on instinct, but are quick to slam on the breaks. "Shit."

There's a split second of reprieve from the rain- just long enough for you to see a building off in the distance. You know it's a dumb idea to even check it out, but you rather be in a barn struck by lightning than be in the truck. So after cutting the engine once more, you reach over to the passenger seat for your pack and beanie. Shoving the gray beanie down atop your head, you brace yourself before opening the door and hopping out.

Slamming the door behind you, you rush through the rain and towards the barn doors. Pushing on said doors, they open far too easily and you rush to close them behind you. Then with your back against the doors, you hold your hands aloft at your sides should you need to protect yourself from a dead skull or three. But surprisingly there are no dead in the barn, instead a group of the living around a small fire stare at you with wide eyes.

Immediately the people are on their feet with their weapons trained on you, a baby is passed off to a preteen, and the group of adults slowly advance on you.

"Whoa," you utter. "I did not know this place was occupied. I don't mean any harm. M'just tryin' to get out of the storm."

"Are you alone?" The man that had passed off the baby asks, a long barreled gun pointed at you.

His companions spread out- a guy with a crossbow hurrying to the wall to peek through the cracks. There's a Korean guy and a woman with hair just barely touching her shoulders standing side by side, blades in hand, and a black woman with a wicked looking katana held at the ready. The last woman with shortly cropped gray hair points a glock right at you without even blinking.

"Um, yeah."

"You don't sound so sure," he grunts.

"Well you're all pointing weapons at me," you say. "It's a little intimidating."

Crossbow guy returns to his friend's side, shaking his head and muttering something too low for your ears to catch. The main guy talking nods meeting your gaze once more. "Weapons?"

"None."

"Mind if we check?"

You shrug. "Have at it."

Spreading your arms out wider, you push off the barn doors and stand with your feet a little spread out as well. The woman standing next to the Korean guy steps forward and cautiously makes her way towards you. You meet her gaze, keeping your expression neutral, but give her a nod to let her know you were good with what was going on. Her hands land on your waist then, patting you down and checking for weapons.

Her hands slide up your sides and under your arms, and you press your lips tighter together when she hits your ticklish spot. A giggle ends up breaking free and you immediately apologize when she freezes. You think you see her faintly grin before she continues on down your legs and around your ankles.

"She's clean," the woman says as she stands back up and then steps back.

"What's in the bag?"

"My snacks," you muse. "I was looking for a few things and had to travel out further than normal. I've been driving for nearly two days now."

"You got a group?"

"I have a community." They seem to blink in surprise at that.

Crossbow guy looks at who you assume is their leader. "Explains the too clean clothes," he grunts. Then looking at you, he says, "But 'ya damn stupid to be out here with no weapons. It's a goddamn miracle 'ya survived this long."

"Mister, I am the weapon." That seems to make the tense all over again, frowning, and you sigh. "Look, I'm not normal. I don't need weapons because I am literally the ultimate weapon. Now if that makes you uncomfortable, I'll stay my butt over here and just wait out the storm. Then I'll be on my way and we never have to see each other again unless we run into each other in the future. That sound good?"

No one voices a complaint against you so you walk over to one of the wooden beams supporting the barn and take a seat on the ground. You get comfortable, stripping your pack off your back and setting it next to you. The group has no idea what to make of you so they continue to stare at you until the baby in the preteen's arms starts to fuss.

Minutes pass as the baby continues to wail, her cries only getting louder. The thunder doesn't seem as loud as before, so you know if there are any dead nearby they'll be drawn towards the barn because of the baby's cries.

"When was the last time she ate?" You ask when you see them shush and rock her in order to calm her. A few of them glance at you and it's then you actually take in their appearances. They're exhausted. They're hungry. They're desperate. "Actually when was the last time any of you ate?"

Crossbow guy grumbles, but it's the preteen boy who answers. "Days. A week or so maybe."

Frowning, you pull your pack into your lap and open it up. Rummaging around the inside, your hand wraps around a small mason jar with a spoon rubber banded around it and you grin triumphantly. "I, uh, I have this if you want it," you say as you hold the jar up. "Mrs. Stevens makes a mean cinnamon applesauce." Your grin slowly falls as you take in their stares. "Or not. I won't be offended."

"No." The gray haired woman steps forward. "We'll take it, but you need to eat a spoonful yourself first."

"Uh, yeah. Sure, but I don't know why.." Your brow furrows as you free the spoon from the rubber band and untwist the top, and then it hits you on why they want you to eat it first. You gasp as you stare up at them. "First off, rude! Do I really look like I'm capable of poisoning a baby?"

No one says a word at first and then, "Well you did say 'ya were different."

You roll your eyes at the crossbow wielding guy. "Not that kind of different." Sticking the spoon into the applesauce, you pull up a spoonful and shove it into your mouth. Swallowing, you place the spoon back in the jar and hold it up. "Happy? It's just cinnamon applesauce."

The leader rushes forward and grabs the applesauce from you, sniffing it as he walks back towards his group and taking a spoonful for himself. When he deems it okay, he then feeds it to the baby girl. Almost immediately, her cries turn to whimpers before ceasing all together.

"You guys are welcome to whatever's in my pack because, no offense, but you look like you need it more than I do."

The Korean guy is the first to crack, rushing towards your pack that you let him freely rummage through. "Is this- is this jerky?"

"Yep. Mr. Mills has a knack for drying out meat and smoking fish."

As he passes out the jerky, water, and a few MRE's, he then looks at you with an astonished expression. "I'm Glenn, by the way. And this is Maggie." The woman who had patted you down gives you a terse smile.

"Michonne," the katana wielding badass says.

"Carol."

The man feeding the baby glances at you. "I'm Rick. These are my kids Carl and Judith."

You look towards the crossbow guy, but he's shoveling an MRE into his mouth and not paying you a lick of attention. "Y/N," you then introduce yourself to them.

You watch them eat for a few seconds before you avert your attention, listening to the sounds outside the barn. The storm seems like it's finally dying down, but the moans and groans of the dead seem to be getting closer and closer now. You get up and walk towards the door, peeking through the cracks and quietly exhaling at the small herd heading straight for the barn.

"You guys have something to prop against the door? We've got incoming."

A scoff comes from crossbow guy. "Thought 'ya were the ultimate weapon?"

"Daryl!" Carol admonishes.

Your eyes narrow at Daryl who shrugs under the stares of his group and you sigh. "Fine. Whatever. All I ask is that whatever you see, you ask questions before you decide to attack."

"Why- why would you say that?" Glenn asks.

"Because like I said, I'm not normal."

With that you turn around, opening the barn doors and stepping back. Staring at the small herd that's coming in, your left arm lifts up and curls around the front of your face as your right arm lifts up underneath. The only difference is that your left hand starts to glow and you swing back briefly before thrusting your left arm out and sending off a red wave of energy that rushes through the heads of the dead ones and instantly drops them in their tracks. You walk forward then and shut the doors, only to turn around and have Daryl aiming his crossbow at you.

"Seriously?" Your arms hang limp at your sides.

"What the hell are 'ya?"

"Human, as far as I know," you say. You mentally sigh as everyone shifts nervously. "Just with a little extra oomph."

"That was some sci-fi bullshit 'ya just pulled there."

"Well whatever it is, it's come in handy since the world fell apart so I'm not complaining about it anymore."

Rick, having passed Judith off to Carl, steps forward. "This community of yours, are there any more people like you?"

You shake your head. "Nah. I'm the only one."

"How many people are you with?" Carol asks.

"Around twenty or so. Me and this little girl I came across a while back are the youngest. Everyone else is sixty-five or above." You huff. "Kid guilt tripped me into saving a few individuals from a retirement home we came across and gave me the idea of a place safe enough to almost be normal."

"Exactly how safe is this place of yours?" Maggie then wonders as she glances at Judith and Carl.

"There's a, uh, shield of sorts around this abandoned housing community. The dead bounce off the invisible walls and the living need permission to enter which I'm smart enough not to give."

"People try gettin' in before?" Daryl asks.

"A group of three about a couple months back. I would have given thought to letting them in, but my powers kind of misfired and I was able to read their minds," you sheepishly admit. "They- they were not good people. Not by a long shot."

"What happened to 'em?"

"I put them to sleep and had a talk with everyone inside the community." You shrug. "I didn't know what to do, so I asked for everyone's advice. It was either kill them or manipulate their memories and send them on their way."

"What did you do?" Carl asks. He's the only one who has a look of awe on his face.

"I kept them asleep and drove them out in a random direction. After about two days driving, I put them up in an abandoned house and let them wake up long after I had left."

"Why are you answering all our questions?" Michonne asks. "Someone like you, it seems like you'd keep your powers a secret."

"Honestly? You're the first kind group I've seen in a long while. You saw what I could do and yet you asked questions first rather than letting Daryl put an arrow in me."

"Would my arrow have even reached 'ya?"

You smile at Daryl's grumpy expression. "Not even close." There's a challenge in his eyes and his arm twitches, but Rick shakes his head at his friend. You quietly chuckle. "If you guys wanna sit and talk, I'll answer what I can. I don't mind so long as you don't plan on attempting to put a bullet in my brain or a blade to my neck."

Everyone looks to Rick and eventually he gives a terse nod. They hesitantly go back to their fire, huddling closer together and you slowly make you way over to sit across from them. The baby seems rather content now so Rick finally takes a moment to eat something himself.

Bending your knees, you pull them in towards your chest and drop your chin on your knee. "So what do you wanna know?"

Glenn immediately leans forward. "First of all, this is something straight out of a comic book." He grins and you can't help but smile in return. Maggie snorts and shakes her head, rather fondly, at him. "So what I wanna know is if you were born like this or if you had a bad visit with the doctors?"

"I was born like this," you say. "I think it started manifesting when I was about eleven or twelve. Mom and dad were obviously terrified, but I was still their daughter and they refused to just let the government have me. It took- it took months of research before they found a legit scientist who was running tests on people like me in order to help. So they met up with him and let him poke and prod to get the answers everyone was seeking."

"Did they find anything out?" Carol asks.

You shake your head. "No. There were no abnormalities in my or my parent's blood, and every other test was coming back completely average. My powers or magic or whatever you wanna call it honestly scared me, so the scientist had concocted some pills that suppressed it. I never got to learn how to control it and only really got to see what I was capable of when the world collapsed and I ran out of suppressors."

"So what, you're just this powerhouse walking around without a care in the world?" Michonne frowns.

"I have many cares," you say, head lifting to stare directly at the woman over the fire. "I have a little girl and a handful of old geezers counting on me back home. I'm just fortunate enough to be this powerhouse, as you say, so the others don't have to come out into this shit show that has become our norm."

Judith starts to fuss again and neither her brother or father can calm her. You can see just how exhausted everyone is, so you take the initiative to help them out when you see Rick cringe after smelling the baby's bottom. Grabbing your pack, you grab the notebook in there and yank out a sheet of paper. Then letting the paper rest in the palms of your hands, you concentrate on the red wisps of energy pooling in your hands and transfigure the sheet of paper into a diaper. More sheets of paper are ripped out and you quickly transfigure those into small rags.

"There's a bucket in the back of my truck," you say as you hold out the diaper and rags. "I'm sure it's full of water by now so you can dip the rags into the water to wipe the baby down."

Rick blinks at you in surprise, walking over to you and grabbing the items. He nods. "Thank you." You flash him a faint smile in return.

He looks at Daryl and he hands over his crossbow to Carol. Taking the rags from Rick, he motions for Glenn to follow him should he run into any trouble outside.

The two men return soon enough and Rick readily starts to make his daughter comfortable once more. As she struggles against him and wildly kicks out, you chuckle and decide to let a small orb of red energy pool in your palm. Then flicking your wrist, the small red orb shoots over to hover above Judith and bob up and down. It does it's job, distracting her so her father can easily change her.

"That must come in handy back at your community," Maggie muses.

"I don't really show off like this in front of them," you sheepishly admit. "Everyone knows what I'm capable of, but they don't really ask me to do anything other than to help keep them safe and keep their houses from deteriorating." There are hums and grunts, but everyone is more interested in filling their stomachs. "Well if I'm going to be on my way come sun up, I should get some rest."

No one objects, so you get up and walk back over to the opposite side of the barn. You sit down in a corner, trying to find a comfortable enough position so you can get a bit of shut eye.

When you wake up, the sun has not fully risen yet. It's a little lighter in the barn and you can see without the small fire throwing off light, so it's easy to spot Rick keeping watch by the barn doors. You sit up, stretch, and sleepily climb to feet in order to join him.

"You guys rotated watch?" You mumble. "You should have woken me."

Rick grins. "Nah. We had it under control."

"If you say so."

His grin subtly falters and then he quietly clears his throat before glancing between you and his group. "So before you go on your way, can I have a word?"

"Sure." You yawn. "Lets just go outside so we don't wake anyone." At Rick's nod, you open the barn doors and exit as quietly as you can. He follows you outside and you glance around for any dead before crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face Rick. "What's going on?"

He stares at you, clearly trying to figure out how to voice his thoughts. It takes him a moment to gather himself and then finally he says, "I know we just met each other last night, but is there any chance- any chance you might be willin' to give us a chance? I'm supposed to be this group's leader, but I am runnin' on fumes here. We all are. We're desperate." Your heart goes out to him and you can't help but frown. You understand desperation very well and you figure it must be worse on him because of the two young children he has. "This world, as vulnerable as it is, it's not a place I want to raise my kids."

"Rick, I-" You pause, sigh and then start over. "Of course I'd be willing to give you guys a chance."

"But?" He pushes, seeing the flash of hesitance in your expression.

"No, no buts." You shake your head. "You just- if you guys want to be a part of this community, you have to actually want to be a part of the community. No drama or violence is permitted within the walls. My sole focus is making sure these people live as long as possible and I won't have anyone jeopardizing that."

Rick nods. "We're all for playing fair. All we're askin' for is a chance. A real chance at survivin'."

"Well then I guess today's your lucky day." You hold out a hand for him to shake. He holds your gaze before glancing down at your hand and hesitantly reaching forward to grasp it. "So do you want to tell them the good news or..?"

Rick huffs a laugh of disbelief as he retakes his hand. "Are- are 'ya serious?"

"Yeah. Why not." You shrug. "The community could use a good shake up, so come on. Lets go wake your people up."

You and Rick re-enter the barn, but you let him wake his family and friends on his own. You gather your pack, tossing the trash and rearranging what's left. Rick tells them the good news and you smile when you see them sag in relief. They have no belongings whatsoever, so they pick up what weapons they have and make to exit the barn.

"Um, Carl and one other person can sit up front with me. Three others can squeeze into the backseat with Judith and two can ride in the very back." There are nods of agreement all around before Daryl and Glenn climb into the bed of the truck. Meeting Daryl's gaze, you say, "You and Glenn keep watch. If you see anyone, pound on the roof. I don't want anyone following us."

He gives you a terse nod. "Got it."

"Or if you and Glenn want to switch out with someone from the inside, pound on the roof. I'm gonna drive as long as I can, but if anyone wants to stop during the night we will."

Everyone seems to agree, letting you decide whether or not you drive through the night. You'll make that decision when the time comes, so as everyone else climbs into the cab of the truck you open the driver's side door and get behind the wheel. You bite back a smirk as you grip the steering wheel in hand, red wisps of energy wrapping around the wheel before disappearing into the guts under the hood.

"So that's why we didn't hear the rumble of an engine," Rick muses. "It's runnin' on magic."

"Beats having to find and siphon gas," you say. Everyone chuckles and after making sure Daryl and Glenn are steady, you drive off.

Not even five seconds in and you hear, "What the hell kind of truck is this?"

Daryl's gruff question makes everyone inside the cab laugh, but no one bothers to fill him in.

          - - - - - - - - - - 

You drive well into the afternoon, only stopping when Glenn and Daryl grow too hot under the sun and switch out with Rick and Michonne. The bit of food you had left in your pack was divided up among the others again and then when the sun set you had stopped to instruct those in the bed of the truck that they could sit or lay down since they wouldn't be able to see anything come nightfall anyway.

Your constant yawning had Maggie concerned, but you assured her you'd done a drive like this numerous times. All you asked was that they talk to you, so to keep things light they told you all about their accomplishments since the world had ended. Carl mentioned being reunited with his dad after being told he was dead, Maggie mentioned finding love with Glenn on her father's farm, and Daryl mentioned finding a prison that they stayed in after clearing it out as much as they could.

You didn't bother asking what had happened to the farm or the prison because you knew full well what happened to places left out in the open. Sooner or later they got taken over, whether it be by the dead or living. So when they ran out of happy tales, you filled them in on your own. You told them all about coming across the retirement home- about how you and Daisy (the young girl you had saved) were allowed to stay with them for a bit while you went out everyday to find a more suitable living situation. You had still been experimenting with your powers, so it was a miracle you managed to fix up an entire housing community and erect walls around it.

Only about half of those in the retirement home chose to go with you and Daisy, and that was even after finding out what you were capable of. The others were grateful for the invite, but they had families they wanted to look for or were too old and didn't want to be a burden on anyone. No amount of pleading from Daisy could sway their decisions.

A new day dawns and the environment around you starts to become familiar. You perk up in your seat and drive just a little faster because after being out for so long all you want is your bed and a shower.

Only you can see the entrance to the community and you know the others can only see what everyone else without permission to enter sees- a run down housing community that was way passed being livable. So stopping right before the barrier, you gesture for everyone to get off with you after letting the truck cut off.

"What's going on?" Rick asks as he hops out of the bed. Michonne follows him.

Facing the group, you grin. "The community is just behind me," you say while gesturing over your shoulder. You see them glance behind you, frowns marring their faces. "You're just seeing what I want everyone who passes by to see- a place not worth investigating. So with your consent," you hold a hand out just at shoulder height, letting a red glow envelop it, "I just need to push a little energy through you so you can see what I see."

Everyone is caught off guard and wary now, but surprisingly it's Carl who says something. "Will it hurt?"

You glance down at him and smile. "Not at all. I promise. Everyone inside has admitted to it feeling like a cold chill running through them and then nothing. Absolutely no pain."

As you guessed, everyone looks to Rick. He takes a moment to think about it before saying, "Do it. But if there's any pain at all-"

"There's not."

"Good." He nods. "So what do we do?"

"Just stand there. I'm the one who has to do all the work." Letting your arms hang down by your sides, you shake yourself out before concentrating on letting your power pool into your hands once more. Then when it feels like you have enough energy to pass through all eight individuals, you face your palms towards them and push out. The energy leaves you and passes through them, and only a couple of them stumble back a step or gasp in surprise. When they finally take notice of what's actually behind you and their jaws drop, you chuckle. "Welcome to your new home."

"How- it looks untouched." Carol mumbles in awe.

"Well it wasn't," you say. "It took me a few days to fix up several blocks of houses. Then about a week to get the solar panels set in with the help of our retired electrician. We were just lucky a water tower was placed close by and the new water lines were set in before the world ended. It's easy to keep the tower operational and our houses supplied with running water."

"This is insane," Glenn mutters in awe. Maggie nods along with his assessment.

"When you reach the barrier, you're going to feel a little resistance. That's normal." you then explain to them. "All you have to do is keep walking through and you'll come out on the other side."

"And if we wanna leave?" Daryl asks. Everyone looks at him as if he's crazy for already thinking about leaving, but he merely huffs and explains further. "To hunt or make runs, not find shelter elsewhere."

You shrug. "Then you leave. You'll feel the resistance again, but that's just so you remember where the barrier is. Now that you've been given permission, you can come and go as you please. But please remember, once you're behind the barrier, anyone who hasn't been given permission to enter will just see you vanish into thin air. So make sure you're never followed or if you are make a beeline for the barrier and come get me. I'll get them outta here." Everyone seems to be in agreement and you smile. "Well come on. Let's go find you a house or two."

Turning around, you readily walk towards the neighborhood. The resistance of entering doesn't faze you as it once did, so you hurriedly turn around to see everyone's reactions. You see when they hesitate and you laugh as they continue on through and seem to all breathe a sigh of relief. Then once they have their wits about them, you gesture for them to follow you.

A few people are sitting out on their porches, some surprised and others (looking at you Gladys) are ecstatic.

A wolf whistle pierces the air and everyone glances in the direction it came from. "'Bout time you brought in some good lookin' fellas! I was getting tired of looking at Tom's ugly mug."

Michonne and Carol snort as Maggie and Carl giggle, and you shake your head at the white haired, seventy-eight year old woman. "Gladys, stop teasin' the men. They literally just got here!" You holler back.

"Any of them single?"

"Oh my god. Go take a cold shower, you cougar!" Gladys cackles and you groan quietly before looking over your shoulder. "Sorry about that. I should have warned you about Gladys and her tendency to hit on any man that isn't her neighbor."

"S'alright." Rick chuckles. "It'll be nice to have some normalcy back in our lives."

"What's with the bars on the doors?" Michonne then wonders.

You look at one house in particular, it's front door having another door of bars attached in front of it as well. "The houses with bars on their doors were requested by those living in the house. These people are at the age where they can easily pass away in their sleep without warning, and after an incident back at their retirement home they requested bars on the doors as a precaution. They lock in a couple of places from the inside."

They seem to agree that that was a good idea as you nod at everyone else coming out to see what Gladys was yelling about. When you spot Mary Alice, a sixty-seven year old ex-nurse, you start to walk towards her house. "Hey Mary Alice, have you seen Daisy around? I want to introduce her to some new people."

Mary Alice stands up and walks over to the top stair of her porch. "Oh. Hello." She beams. "It's nice to see some capable, new faces around here."

"Ma'am," Rick drawls.

You can practically see Mary Alice swoon and you mumble, "You're going to give every goddamn old lady heart palpitations in here," under your breath. Rick chuckles and you clap your hands to garner Mary Alice's attention once more. "Mary! Where's Daisy?"

"Oh, um." She pauses as she fluffs her hair. "Last I saw her, Dave had asked her to help him pick some fruit from the garden."

"Okay. Thanks." Turning around to face the group, you smile sheepishly. "Maybe I'll just show you to your house first. Daisy might be busy for a bit longer." You're about to motion for them to follow you when you see Daisy appear from between two houses, munching on an apple and looking as carefree as a child her age should be. She meets your gaze from across the street, but before you can draw any attention to her you notice her steps falter as the most heartbreaking expression takes over her features when she sees who's with you. For a second you think this group might not be as innocent as they seemed, but then-

"Momma?"

Time seems to slow as Carol, of all people, freezes and then turns around. She stumbles back, hand going to her mouth in shock as she chokes on a sob. "S-Sophia?"

Your eyes widen at what's unfolding before you- Daisy (apparently Sophia) dropping her apple core before sprinting across the street. Carol meets her halfway, the two colliding with one another as their cries pierce the air. The rest of Carol's group looks on in awe before they join in on the reunion and you laugh as your vision suddenly blurs with unshed tears.

You startle when an arm settles across your shoulders and you glance over at Mary Alice smiling as she watches the reunion as well. "Did you know?"

"Not a clue," you say. "This is just an insane coincidence."

As everyone else takes a turn reuniting with the young girl and introducing her to the new faces, Carol glances up at you and starts to make her way over. You smile as she nears. "My Sophia was the kid you mentioned, wasn't she? The girl you saved before you came across the retirement home."

"Yeah. I just didn't know her name was Sophia." You chuckle. "She said something about her name making her sad because it reminded her of her mom, so she chose a new one."

"Why Daisy?"

You shrug. "Because we were walking through a field of daisies and she liked the sound of it."

Carol wetly chuckles and you give a surprised oh when she yanks you into a hug. "Thank you. Thank you for keeping my baby girl safe."

"No thanks needed, Carol. Whether your daughter knows it not, Daisy- er, Sophia- saved me as well. I'm just glad I could reunite the two of you."

The two of you pull out of the hug just to see the rest of the group making their way towards you, and Sophia hurries to wrap her arms around your waist. "Thank you. Thank you for finding my family."

"Don't even mention it, kid." You ruffle her hair, chuckling. "I'm just glad you found each other again." As you look up to meet everyone's house, you say, "So about your house.."

The group chuckle and you finally lead them to a couple empty houses just down the block you currently reside on. You inform them that every house in the neighborhood was built with four bedrooms and two bathrooms. Rick tells you they'll take just the one house for now until they're acquainted with their surroundings and you let him know that that was fine, but in a few days you were taking a group out to pick out furniture and appliances for two houses.

Daryl scoffs. "Where exactly does one go shoppin' in the goddamn apocalypse?"

"In the store Y/N hid with her magic. Duh!" Sophia muses. Daryl glances down at the young girl before a smirk pulls at the corner of his lips. She beams at him and he playfully reaches out to ruffle her hair.

"So, uh, yeah," you muse. "You guys can go ahead and wait here while I go round up a few sleeping bags that we can transform into mattresses," you tell them. "The water should be working, but you might want to run the faucets and showers for a minute or so to make sure all the air is out of the pipes." You start to back away down the sidewalk, heading towards your house. "I'll even knock on a few doors and see if there are any shirts and pants anyone is willing to let go of so you guys can shower. You can change into clean clothes while washing those you have on right now."

Before anything can be said, you turn around and make your way towards your house. You're not sure why all of sudden you became nervous- there is nothing to be nervous about- but you felt yourself suddenly getting anxious under all their gazes.

It doesn't take you long to find a few sleeping bags in your garage, so you take those with you while stopping by next door. You ask your neighbors for any sleeping bags or air mattresses, as well as a change of clothes, and they're all too happy to accommodate the newest residents of your sleepy little community. So by the time you make it back to the house where you had left the group, arms laden with bags that are threatening to cut off the circulation in your arms, you aren't surprised to see some of them already holding dishes of food.

"These old ladies sure do work fast." You laugh. Rick and Glenn are quick to pass off the dishes in their hands in favor of helping you bring in the stuff for them. They take the sleeping bags from you, leaving you with large shopping bags full of clothing. "So do you guys want everything set up downstairs or you do want to sleep in separate rooms already?"

"Downstairs is fine," Rick says. "At least for now."

In the living room, the sleeping bags are all rolled out and the air mattress is blown up. Rick settles Judith down on the mattress and Carl is quick to crawl on next to her. You've only enlarged one sleeping bag- the one Glenn and Maggie seemed to have gravitated to- when Rick stops you, telling you that you've done more than for him and his family. You ask him if he's sure and he nods, but you can't help just one last wiggle of your fingers to give the sleeping bags a little extra cushion.

"So I guess I'll leave you to it," you say. "In the bag with the clothes, there are plates and utensils. Everyone's offered up their laundry rooms for you to use, but if you're uncomfortable encroaching in on their houses then just get Sophia to show you to mine."

There's a round of thank yous as you leave so you wave and let them settle in. As you're walking out the front door, before you can shut it behind you, someone's gripping it and opening it wider. You're surprised to see Daryl follow you out.

"Everything good?" You ask.

"Yeah." He nods, hands finding their way into his jean's pockets. He shuffles rather sheepishly and you can't help but grin. "Yeah. All good here." You nod and turn to head down the stairs, only for his gruff voice to stop you in your tracks and make you turn back around once more. "Thanks. You didn't have to bring us in or trust us with your secret, but 'ya did. You gave my group a fightin' chance- 'ya gave those kinds in the house a fightin' chance. So thanks."

You smile at him. "You're welcome." He meets your gaze for a moment, eyes hidden behind a curtain of hair and you chuckle. "Go grab a plate of food and a shower, Daryl. You guys are safe here so relax. All of you look like you can sleep for days."

He shakes his head. "We still got people out there."

"And that sucks, I'm sure, but you need to look after yourself first," you say. "You won't be doing anyone any good if you're falling over your own two feet because you're beyond exhausted." Daryl shifts on his feet, his expression turning rather displeased. "Rest up and I promise that when you and a couple others are ready, I'll be right there with you to find your people."

Daryl holds your gaze before he relaxes a bit and he gives you a terse nod. "Fine. Until then, 'ya gotta learn not to rely on 'ya powers or whatever. Gotta keep that a secret until the last second."

Your nose wrinkles and then you sigh. "And here I thought I was done with physical education."

[beevean]

“oooh barok is racist!! i’ll kill him with my bare hands!! white people should be banned from playing dgs because they stan a racist!!”

Did you know that there’s a high chance that Edgeworth has blood on his hands?

Think about it. He had a perfect career for 4 years - for 4 years, people that he prosecuted were found guilty. It’s all but confirmed he used illegal means to win. We see his dirty tactics in 1-2 and to a lesser extent 3-4, such as manipulating the witnesses - sure, the updated autopsy report is a meme, but what if that was a real forgery like Phoenix suspected? (I won’t count 1-5 confirming Edgeworth never forged anything of his own will because it was written posthumously and that was a copout, but even if we accept that as canon he does not limit himself to forgery)

How many innocent people were sentenced to death, or to die in jail, because of Edgeworth? We don’t know, but it’s likely that number is higher than zero.

And, as I’ve said other times, Edgeworth was ready to shift focus and try to find Phoenix guilty when Redd White took charge of the case. He knew it was unlikely that Phoenix killed Mia, but he didn’t give a shit - Phoenix was his new accused, Edgeworth’s warped world view was “better to condemn 100 innocent people than to let one criminal flee”, he would do his best to find his old friend guilty.

Hadn’t Mia literally come back from the dead to prove she was the only one with a braincell in the courtroom give Phoenix the last decisive piece of evidence, he would have ended up to rot in jail for a crime he never committed.

Or being sentenced to death, depending on the criteria for such a punishment in the AAverse.

And Edgeworth had no pity for his childhood friend.

Also there was also that lovely moment when he threatened to reveal to the court the disorder of a mentally ill, possibly suicidial witness, even stating “If you kill yourself, that is no concern of mine”. And this happened after his heel-face turn, in JFA. What a cinnamon roll <3

So, why is Edgeworth so beloved and so shipped with the man he once tried to unjustly send to the gallows, while Barok is so loathed for the sole sin of being raised as a nobleman in Victorian England?

“B-but Edgeworth reedemed himself!”

Yeah, exactly. We can forgive a corrupt attorney for ruining innocent lives due to his trauma because he realized the error of his ways after 4 years, but not being progressive enough for 19th century England is way to cruel of a sin even after the realization that irrationally hating people is not a good coping mechanism (yeah spoiler alert, Barok gradually becomes a better person). Nevermind that Barok is absolutely spotless as a prosecutor compared to good ol’ Edgyboy - how dare he not being the only Londoner in 1900 openly supportive of a random “Oriental” boy who randomly showed up in the Old Bailey trying to defend an obvious criminal. (I won’t spoil it for people who haven’t played the game, but Barok had a horrible first impression of Ryunosuke, which didn’t help matters)

I love Edgeworth, by the way. He’s my favorite AA character, I think he’s really a great guy, and his character development is outstanding and I’m proud of him. I don’t think he’s evil or unforgivable, far from it. Just pointing out the double standard - Barok is in no way morally worse than fan-favorite Edgeworth when he started out. Being racist is obviously bad (no shit moment) and it should be condemned and you’re clearly not meant to like him at first, but maybe unjustly sending people to jail for 4 years is slightly worse, yet we all collectively accepted Edgeworth as a good guy after AA.

[bunnimew]

If Jack Frost is a Twinkie can we have an indepth character analysis of the rest of the cast of Twinkies and Hope through the lens of which Hostess cakes they best align with?

First of all, @mrsketchy, we love you.

Second, if you don’t know the fic Sketchy is referencing, you can check it out here.

Third,

Kam, 30 minutes later: “I’ve never regretted cake so hard.”

OKAY so we had to cheat a little bit because Publix didn’t have every hostess cake in history and Target didn’t either and we drew the line at Walmart. So some of these aren't Hostess. Also we had a coupon for entenmann’s so.

Disclaimer: We don’t recommend eating any of this food tbh. We bought all of this Friday night and by Saturday night had already given two boxes away because they are Too Much for us but we did eat at least one of everything so

HERE

WE

GO!!!!

Jack - Twinkie Kamui’s reasoning: Jack is the twinkie. Outside, he’s a sponge: taking in everything around him. But it’s inside where all the good stuff is. Fuuma’s reasoning: He’s a twink who survived the apocalypse, sorta.

Pitch - Coffee Cakes Kamui’s reasoning: Pitch is the coffee cakes, mostly sweet a little spicy, kinda rough around the edges and desperately needs to be paired with coffee. Fuuma’s reasoning: Coffee. No more needs to be said.

Tooth - Zinger Kamui’s reasoning: Tooth is the zinger because they’re like twinkies with style. Still soft and sweet, but a little more complex. Fuuma’s reasoning: Zing!

Baby - Birthday Cupcake Kamui’s reasoning: Baby is the birthday cupcake. She’s fun, colorful, makes you happy just to see her. Fuuma’s reasoning: SPRINKLES!

Sandy - Cinnamon Roll Kamui’s reasoning: Sandy is the cinnamon roll because he’s familiar, warm, comforting, and a little spicy. Fuuma’s reasoning: C’mon. Cinnamon roll.

Aster - Ding Dong Kamui’s reasoning: Aster is the ding dong. Hard on the outside, but soft and gooey in the center. Fuuma’s reasoning: Laughing in the distance

North - Classic Cupcake Kamui’s reasoning: North is the classic cupcake, looks like he has a hard exterior, but soft all around with a jolly center. Additionally, high nostalgia value. Fuuma’s reasoning: Even for a shitty snack cake, it’s hard to hate, like North.

Jamie - Zebra Cakes Kamui’s reasoning: Jamie is zebra cakes, which have style over substance and Jamie will absolutely get into crazy shit just to look cool (especially around Jack). Fuuma’s reasoning: (Spoiler Alert) Jamie : Zebra Cakes :: Dead Inside : Flavorless

Seraphina - Cosmic Brownie Kamui’s reasoning: Sera is the cosmic brownie, rich with personality, dense with backstory, surprising pops of color with a bit of a snap, and she feels like she’s a galaxy away. Fuuma’s reasoning: TheFatRat’s Mayday begins to play.

Thank you so much for the ask! This was so much fun minus the chemical taste still stuck to our tongues XD

We promise we’re working on the next chapter, but hopefully this will make the wait a little easier on all.

@mrsketchy You’re the best!!

[poepoe-thebunny]

Rudy/Tony and Fam during Quarantine

Cause this is where my life is at, apparently. I thought I escaped the “quarantine fever writing” that everyone else got. Apparently I was wrong. 

After another visit to the castle, the Thompson’s end up there in quarantine once miss rona hits the world. Thank god for WI-FI and working remotely, even if his parents look vaguely like zombies due to time zone differences. Tony can’t talk, his online schooling schedule is all sorts of weird and he’s pretty sure his teacher just wants to sleep until the whole thing is over. Honestly Tony can’t say he blames her. 

The Sackville-bagg clan, as it turns out, is a surprisingly overprotective bunch when they need to be, especially now that they have accepted their humans into the fold. Even with catching up on modern medicine and germ theory, they won’t allow anything to happen to their precious humans. 

(AU/headcanons incoming??

Rudy/Tony: 

- Think Rudy was protective before? Think again. 

- Rudy is over 300 years old, he’s old by human standards and he has met people who are old by vampire standards. He’s seen Things(TM) ok?

- He has been through more than one plague in his life. He has seen what it can do to the sick and the poor. He knows it’s a different now, that life-saving machines exist, that they’re working on a vaccine, that soap is widely available. 

- But he also knows it’s not. 

- Tony? Not going anywhere as far as he is concerned. Say hello to your prince, Rapunzel, cause Rudy is keeping Tony up in that tower if it kills him (again). 

- He knows where all of Tony’s masks are, and where he puts the extras. 

- He’ even shops online for masks with Tony, finding cool hand-sewn, gothic looking ones for Rudy himself to wear. He’s not sure if Corona even effects vampires, but Tony likes finding stuff to match his “aesthetic’ and it keeps his mortal happy. 

- He waits on his mortal hand and foot in between videogames and watching Netflix. (Tony likes How to Train Your Dragon and Paranorman, Rudy likes The Little Prince and Kubo and the Two Strings.). 

- Rudy’s first introduction to Tumblr is through Tony, and at one point they reach the Plague Doctor Aesthetics. While Rudy hasn’t spent much time in Italy, he doesn’t think they’re very accurate, and complains as such to his mortal. 

- Rudy is surprisingly easily offended about historically inaccurate things, and it sends Tony into laughing fits. 

- Rudy is Bad At Memes. Like, just in general he doesn’t always get them, and when Corona Memes become a thing he’s just constantly confused. Poor Rudy honestly. 

- Tries to learn to cook healthy human food, except he hasn’t had any major kitchen experience in 200-odd years and it comes out as a disaster the first few times he tries it. 

- It turns into a teaching session between him and the other adult humans, turns out the old couple who owns the castle like to feed people. Rudy walks into Tony’s room with a tray piled so high Tony can’t see his head. 

-Always offering to fly around the castle to get things for Tony, even if he isn’t sick. 

- TikTok dances. Tony shows him, then teaches him. Rudy is shockingly good at them, but Gregory thinks he’s cringy. 

Gregory: 

(Not me flexing my love of the good big brother trope, absolutely not, nope)

- Surprisingly rather take charge about the whole thing, he’s come around to the Thompson’s and the old couple. 

- While his parents help when they can, they sort of take a step back, and let the three siblings explain what’s happening in the world to the clan (if they are there). Being the oldest, Gregory sort of defaults to being the leader. 

-Checks in with the Thompson’s, as well as Otto and Emma (The old couple who run the place.) Asks if they need anything while they work/are in school etc. 

- Warns the clan to be very careful when visiting, not just for the Thompson’s, but also because Otto and Emma are getting on in years and could become sick very easily. Always asks for a heads up before a family visit. 

- Won’t tell anyone but, late at night if he’s not busy, he’ll do things around the castle for the humans, especially upkeep for Otto and Emma, while they sleep. 

- Dusting hard to reach spots like chandeliers, organizing books in the old castle library, moving heavy furniture and stuff since he can fly. 

-Low key drags Rudy and Anna into helping him clean 

(”But Gregory, this is our home now too! I’m sure they don’t mind.” 

“Humans are fragile, and they’re letting us stay here out of kindness, so don’t be rude. Clean up after yourself little brother.” 

“He’s right you know.” 

“Of course I am. And don’t think you’re getting out of cleaning the rafters Anna, and stop leaving your books everywhere for them to pick up.” 

 ‘hmph.” )

- Of the vampires he’s lowkey the best at cooking human food. Tony, Rudy, and Anna just walk into the kitchen at night and Fredrick is just watching his eldest, genuinely amused, as he dances around the kitchen in a “Kill the Cook (Too late, I’m already dead)” apron, blasting out dad rock from the stereo. 

-Bonds with the Thompsons over cooking human food, especially Tony’s dad after he teaches Gregory what an “air guitar” move is. 

-Gregory discovers pinterest food aesthetics, and is a machine of baking, mixing, and decorating sweet candies/cakes/brownies. He wants his food to look pretty dang it. 

- Anna and Rudy just watch, silently judging him. 

Anna: 

- She’s just thriving tbh. 

- She has internet access now, and her brothers have never been more terrified. 

-If Gregory is the vampire equivalent of a pinterest mommy, Anna is the vampire equivalent of creepy diy aesthetic tiktokers. 

-Not like, bloody horror diy, but like, the subtly creepy but still sweet kind, like the Addams family or Coraline. 

- She learned needle arts with her mom, so she’s out here sewing Coraline dolls, or patchwork dresses a la Nightmare Before Christmas cause she CAN. 

-Makes her own handbag with those felt cartoonish vampire faces and big fake bat ears on the side. 

-Learns more modern patterns and stuff, but will make masks for the humans as gifts, cause she doesn’t want them to get sick. 

- After watching Coraline together, she made “Other Me” dolls of her brothers, button eyes included, and stuck them in their coffins. She would make them “move’ by flying them around to different rooms when her brothers weren’t looking, just to freak them out. 

- Spoiler alert: it worked. They ran to Tony for help and she laughed over it for days. 

- Anna loves adventure books to Rudy’s poetry and Gregory’s fables/folk tales. She hates being excluded from her brothers “adventures”. 

-Tony introduces her to comics and video games and she just lives her best life. 

-One of her favorite comic book character is Cassandra Cain/Blackbat/The Orphan.

- She loves books like Matilda, The Chronicles of Narnia, and The Giver, as well as games like the Lara Croft/Tomb Raider series. 

-VICIOUS at video games, this girl has no mercy, she will blue shell you so hard. 

The Adults: 

-Life is Hard(TM) right now, but the Thompson’s try to make the best of it. They’re very grateful to Otto and Emma for letting them stay. 

-They’re both working remotely, so they’re a little messed up sleep schedule wise. But that’s ok, their vampire friends don’t seem to mind. 

- Freda teaches Dottie how to make proper tea, cause she likes it and Dottie is sort of addicted to caffeine. Dottie teaches Freda how to make mochas and smoothies, Dottie likes mango-pineapple smoothies and Freda likes hot white chocolate mochas with cinnamon. 

-Surprisingly, Frederick and Bob become pretty good friends. Frederick understands the stress of having to care for your family in very uncertain times, and the two men bond over unsure parental decisions. 

-Bob is also surprisingly good at making Frederick loosen up, much to Freda and Dottie’s amusement. While initially awkward, they have a surprisingly snarky and sarcastic sort of friendship. Frederick deadpans insults at him and Bob cheerfully annoys him into Being Nice For Once while being completely aware of the fact that he’s annoying Frederick. 

-Meals where Bob cooks often consists of him singing oldies into his spatula, making bad impression of certain singers, including Elvis and Cher. He is occasionally joined by Tony and Gregory, making the entire family laugh. 

- Anna’s bones may be old, but she can hand sew like a goddess, and has occasionally taken to fixing up the kids’ torn clothes, as Dottie can barely keep straight lines and Freda prefers knitting. 

- Someone (read: Freda) mentions that Frederick can play the cello, and after a rousing performance, it turns out that Otto can play an accordion, and of course Bob can play the guitar. A jam session occurs as the kids just stare in utter bewilderment.

- Tony’s grandparents were kinda hippies, so Bob and Dottie know a lot of oldies and folk songs, which while different than from what they normally hear, Otto and Anna connect too. They swap songs back and forth, and it turns out Dottie can do a mean Loretta lynn impression. 

- Dottie likes the Beach Boys, and teaches the others how to Twist. As in, the dance, and Freda actually likes it quite a bit. 

[malewifehenrycooldown]

🍒, ❤️, and 💙 with any f/o?

I shall talk about Henry Cooldown because like- I don’t really discuss much about them and like that’s something that needs to be corrected-

Self Ship Ask Things Because I’m Bored Ask Meme Here

🍒 - What are some headcanons you have about your f/o?

Henry is a veteran Assassin, like they’ve been doing this for the majority of their life. It’s the only life Henry really knows about tbh.

Henry is not the most emotional person. They’re not a robot... it’s just that they were taught to keep their emotions together. But obviously when it’s too much Henry just... breaks down.

Henry gives off the vibes that they are the kind of Assassin who’s married to the job- to which is actually false rather Henry’s role as an assassin is pretty flexible especially because they carry out their services well but also that being a high ranking assassin comes with it’s benefits.

Okay so hear me out on this one: HENRY GIVES A CRAP ABOUT BEING A PARENT.

Yes you heard that right. Henry dearly cares about their daughter Jeane a lot and makes actual efforts to be a good parental figure in her life. Even if it’s doing small things like picking them up from daycare/giving them gifts - Henry wants to ensure that Jeane at least gets to see them.

Henry definitely has custody of Jeane after the first game fight me on this

if you even touch a hair on Jeane - Henry WILL HUNT YOU DOWN. THEY WON’T STOP TILL YOU’RE DEAD.

Suave on the outside - but is an absolute dork with too much confidence on the inside-

Despite the Irish heritage, Henry prefers Wine. I mean they don’t hate beer but wine is more or less preferred.

Henry is touch starved and values physical intimacy. That’s it, that’s the headcanon.

Has FULL Fourth Wall Awareness like their siblings Travis and Jeane (the half sister, trust me there's like three characters called Jeane in this series), albeit more subtle. It feels a little weird that canon has ignored this fact, because this Fourth Wall Awareness quirk is obviously a Touchdown Family inherited trait

The thing about being a Professional Assassin? Once you know the rules, you get to break them :) including sparing the life of the assassin who would become your future lover

Henry is and will ALWAYS be the little spoon.

there’s probably more but i can’t think of anything

❤️ - How affectionate is your f/o?

In public, Henry is not the most affectionate. Not a big fan of PDA but doesn’t mind hand-holding, but that’s about as far as they would go in public tbh. That said Henry is a snark and will do anything to fluster Shallow, just for the sake of amusement.

As for in private? Henry values any form of physical intimacy. This is all kinda based around the fact I think Henry’s past relationship with Sylvia is kinda messed up but also that she never really gave them affection or genuine love. (Honestly the whole marriage was out of convenience but it was always doomed tbh).

So you can imagine the moment in which Henry receives genuine physical affection by a romantic partner  - it’s like... so precious... and Henry absolutely like craves that because it’s just something that they’ve never had the chance to experience. So it’s like a feeling Henry absolutely craves and wants it to last longer because they have never experienced any form of genuine love before.

💙 - What trope does your self ship fall under?

The ship trope is between them is Enemies to (Accidental) Friends to Lovers. (I mean kinda?? Shallow tried to kill Henry but she failed miserably but Henry spared her- LOOK IT’S A LONG STORY).

The other trope is Bastard Troll Assassin dates Adorable Cinnamon Roll Artist. I wonder what could possibly go wrong? (Spoiler Alert: Everything).

[fangyymusic]

Some things I could imagine happening between my boyfriend and I’s fursonas and OCs:

1. Fang has his two friends over- Boris and K9- and they’re all playing a dumb game of Truth or Dare. Because K9 “Isn’t a wuss”, he picks dare. Fang clears his throat and asks for a pizza. Already realizing how he shouldn’t have said dare, K9 reluctantly pulls up his phone.

“What do you want?”

“Get us a medium pizza. Split it in half. One side just plain cheese and the other sausage. For Sirus.”

K9 sighs.

“Is that all?”

“Cheese sticks.” Sirus hisses while he stares K9 down and K9 proceeds to hate himself more as he puts that in.

“Are you going to at least share?” K9 asks the two boyfriends, whom are cuddling on the couch.

“No, you owe me.”

And, as usual, Fang was right. That dipshit always owes Fang money.

2. Sirus literally tying into Fang and playing Rocket League while they both wait. Fang has no idea how to feel about this.

3. Sirus tends to fall asleep in a variety of places around the house. Fang finds him napping in the corner of the couch curled up, under surfaces, and sometimes lodged in weird spaces like behind the couch or on the floor, plopped down right where that perfect, single ray of sunlight hits.

4. Fang makes breakfast for Sirus before he leaves to work. He likes to leave sticky notes for him too.

5. Something tells me Sirus’s diet is 5% spaghetti and the other 95% is Fang’s boy syrup (hAh boy syrup).

6. Sirus catches Fang listening to one of his songs. He’s humiliated, super flustered, and flattered at most. Then Fang proceeds to ask him if he’d like to make a song with them. Sirus melts, as per usual.

7. Sirus gets lonely super quickly when Fang isn’t around. Fang works most weekdays, so Sirus is usually home by himself. I feel like to cope with his loneliness, he’d call his friend Styrix over to hang out.

But he’s still lonely.

So he whips out his phone and begins to call Fang. When Fang answers, Sirus whines.

“Fang, honey, I miss you... I’m lonely and it’s been foreverrrr...”

Right in front of Styrix. Poor guy is a third wheel.

8. Fang has flowers in the front yard. Something tells me Sirus waters them if Fang forgets. Something about that is super cute.

9. Fang definitely squish’s Sirus’s cheeks.

10. Sirus blushing when Fang and Styrix begin showing off how impressive their maws are. He just has this dumb obsession with how big Fang’s teeth are.

11. They probably both have a height difference fetish to be honest.

12. Sirus REFUSES to let go of Fang’s tail and probably has gotten lost in it several times. He sleeps with it and is just obsessed.

13. Fang makes a self-deprecating joke and Sirus stops him and makes him eat his words. Sirus makes a self-deprecating joke and suddenly he’s showered with gifts, a fancy dinner is planned and probably some one-on-one sexy time. Nice.

14. Them. Freaking out over Monstercat artists. Essentially my boyfriend and I on that field.

15. I feel like Fang pays Styrix to cash in on his weird shenanigans.

16. If Styrix ever met Boris and K9 and got along with them, they’d all be the chaotic, stupid boy group to constantly annoy Fang and Sirus. Not that they don’t already, just the floor may be coated in soap one afternoon.

17. Boris and K9 are British so that means they don’t exist.

18. Fang and Sirus have like no friends and chronic crippling depression.

19. Sirus definitely likes to get Fang “excited” before important work meetings just for his own enjoyment.

20. Sirus definitely squeezes into weird spaces for no reason. He gets stuck often and needs his heroic boyfriend to get him out.

21. FANG. AND SIRUS. SINGING TOGETHER. ABOUT. THEIR. LOVE. Or just in general, that’s cool too.

22. Fang and Sirus dressing edgy together.

23. Fang is having a breakdown so he dabs on some glittery eyeshadow and sticks on some bizarre long lashes and Sirus walks in and casually asks to be done too. Just to accompany Fang.

24. If Fang is too anxious to check out in a store, Sirus will do it. And vice versa.

25. Fang sitting on the couch and Sirus is curled up around him, napping and purring.

26. Fang’s constant expression is simply just flat out exhausted and angry. His brows are always furrowed and you can visibly see how little sleep he got. Same with Sirus; his face is usually void to most emotion. Suddenly they see eachother and smiles explode on their faces and they become a hugging, kissing mess.

27. They hold hands in public.

28. Fang playing guitar and singing to Sirus during a hill picnic. He’s a hopeless romantic like that.

29. Sirus watching Fang furiously and precisely brush his precious teeth.

30. If any sort of mention of “parent” is brought up, I feel like Sirus would deck somebody on the spot if Fang’s around.

31. Although I do, Fang doesn’t make jokes about his dead parents. Please don’t. His feelings will be very hurt.

32. Fang makes weird fox noises at Sirus, probably.

33. Since Sirus is short, he can probably sit on Fang’s shoulders and purr,,

34. Sirus likes to go get his hair cut and every time Fang freaks out over it and insists taking a few pictures to keep for himself.

35. Neither of them would ever ask for the other’s passwords to anything. Privacy means everything to them.

36. Sirus cheering on Fang deepthroating whole eggs.

37. “E.” “Agreed.”

38. Don’t touch either of them. They don’t like being touched. Funny because nobody wants to be around them anyways.

39. Fang LOVES cooking for Sirus. He will cook anything Sirus wants and do it out of the blue. I can imagine Sirus minding his business playing Xbox with his friends and suddenly Fang walks in with a plate. It has a sandwich on it. He cut the crust off and cut it into triangles. On the side, some cinnamon applesauce. As he sets the food and a can of soda for him down he says,

“Here, sweetie. I made you something to gnaw on. If you need absolutely anything else, let me know, okay?” And he goes and kisses Sirus on the forehead and Sirus is all blushy and everything. Sirus tells him he loves him and briefly explains to his friends his boyfriend’s odd, caring nature.

40. In case I haven’t mentioned before, Fang is super motherly toward his boyfriend and just in general. He cleans and cooks idly like some sort of NPC.

41. Fang, Sirus, Styrix, Boris and K9 all on the floor playing DnD.

“Can I roll to fuck the dragon?”

“No.” - Probably Fang.

42. Fang using a laser pointer to play with Sirus.

43. If alcohol is mentioned you will be bashed in the head by your mom, Fang.

44. Fang casually walking up to Sirus with a broom and several other things in his other hand asking for help making a cover art for a song.

45. Fang humming Sirus to sleep.

46. If Fang doesn’t hear from Sirus in ten minutes tops (nice) he will probably sob in a pillow hoping he didn’t do anything wrong.

47. Spoiler alert, Fang and Sirus never fight and always come to eachother maturely if something is up. It’s usually fixed in seconds but Fang is an anxious mess and wants his precious boyfriend to be happy all the time.

48. Fang hates his birthday and the day it’s on. Sirus goes out of his way to make it enjoyable for him.

49. Styrix texting and calling Sirus at like 6 AM to the point Sirus wakes up and just questions his existence.

50. “I have this pretty bad stomach ache... I don’t know from what though.”

“Mm... Could it have something to do with the fact we cooperatively ate two large pizzas together?”

“Couldn’t be.”

51. Fang is hemophobic. Not so much if he himself bleeds, but if Sirus bleeds as much as a paper cut he will literally pass out.

52. They definitely sing in the car together.

🎶“When you say I’m the only one I must admit it!” 🎶

53. Fang sucks ass at games, but Sirus doesn’t mind at all when it comes to him. When it comes to anyone else, however...

54. Fang’s room is freezing cold so they kind of have to snuggle.

55. Homemade dinner is common from Fang. If you go over to have dinner you’re in for something special.

56. Sirus loves Fang’s food. I’d imagine Fang cooks steak one night and Sirus is hesitant until he tries it. He then concludes he only likes Fang’s steak. (Nice.)

57. Pet names galore. They love gushing over eachother like weirdos and never ever leave eachother alone. They’re so dumbly in love.

58. Fang and Sirus making out on Styrix’s couch and Styrix is just like “This is fine.”

59. Fang and Sirus have Styrix over and say something relatively dirty. Styrix is an innocent, good-looking dumbass and just furrows his eyebrows and questions what’s going on. This is hard for everybody.

60. K9 and Fang are talking. K9 briefly mentions his daughter and Sirus just “Wait, how old are you?”

61. Fang is really closeted. Yet is cool with usual PDA and won’t hesitate to stand up for his homosexuality.

62. Soda.

63. Sirus, a 5’3 petite Canadian Lynx absolutely tops and dominates his 6’1 fox boyfriend.

64. Both of them are covered in questionable marks and scars. They both try to hide it.

65. “You’re adorable!” “No! You are!” And then they make out to make a point.

66. Them eating ice-cream together,,,

67. Their relationship is 40% wholesomeness and 50% other kinky dirty shit.

68. Fang’s closet is just full of questionable things he’d rather only Sirus see.

69. They definitely do this.

70. Making out but, like, all the time.

71. Sirus getting a body pillow that smells like Fang in order to cope with his separation anxiety. Chances are he fucks the pillow- So- That must be interesting.

72. Fang comes home and the first thing Sirus does is ask to be fucked. He sighs.

73. You mention something remotely dirty and Sirus gets a boner somehow.

74. Styrix sitting on their couch and doing something on his phone. He just looks up at Sirus and asks, “What’s a ‘handjob’ and why are they so expensive?” And Fang and Sirus just. Die.

75. Styrix just walks in on Sirus getting beat off from Fang and he doesn’t get why they screamed.

76. K9 getting “kicked out” of his house (he lives with his siblings). Fang and Sirus are snuggling in bed late at night and K9 just. Knocks on Fang’s window and scares the hell out of him. And he just begs to stay the night. He sleeps on the couch in the living room but fails to sleep due to questionable noises. He then begs Fang for breakfast because he likes his food. I for some reason feel like he’d bother the fuck out of Sirus because he’s like that and Sirus just chills in Fang’s room, probably snuggling his body pillow and being horny and just trying to ignore the fact someone is using his Xbox. I mean, not that he cares... or does he?

77. Sirus expressing his dislike toward Amy to Fang while Fang tiredly makes himself coffee. Sirus is ranting while eating his spaghetti and Fang chimes in to wipe the bit of marinara sauce on his chin.

78. Fang and Sirus casually listening to music and suddenly Monochrome Romance plays and Fang just “WAIT” and Sirus just morphs into a tomato.

79. “My aunt wants to come over.”

“Does she know you’re gay?”

“Good question.”

“Should we be worried?”

“Maybe if we take her out to dinner she’ll be too focused on the food to care if I’m being pegged.”

80. Sirus’s gallery is just full of pictures he took of Fang without him knowing.

81. I feel, for some reason, Fang and Sirus have each other’s nudes on their phones so they hesitate giving their phones to other people.

82. Styrix calling Sirus and Fang picks up.

“He can’t talk right now-“ All while he’s breathing uneasily.

“What? Why not? Are you okay? Your voice is all shaky.”

Then he just hears the phone drop and Fang “Sirus!” In the background followed by other concerning sounds. Two minutes later Sirus picks up his phone.

“Can we talk later?”

“Why?? I need to talk now-“

Then he just hangs up and Styrix proceeds to annoy him in every way possible,,

83. What even IS Styrix’s size?

84. (Again with the K9 staying over concept) Sirus walks into the dark kitchen to see Fang making something and he’s all like

“Baby, you left bed. What are you doing?”

“I’m making hot chocolate with rainbow marshmallows for K9.”

Sirus squints.

“Isn’t he our age...?”

Fang just looks over at him with bags under his eyes.

“Yes.”

85. K9 is riding in Fang’s car and Sirus is in the passenger seat. K9 leans in toward Fang through the back seat and he just whines, “Faaang, can we pleaaaase get McDonald’s? I’m hungry...”

Fang thinks about it and flicks his eyes over to his boyfriend. He knows Sirus likes fries. He also likes fries.

“Well, that means I don’t have to cook; but you’re paying.”

“That’s fine! Just don’t get something super expensive!”

It was easy to tell K9 was super excited. As they waited in the drive-thru Fang’s fingers curl within Sirus’s. He somewhat shyly looks up at him.

“What do you want?”

K9 at this point knew Fang only pulled into McDonald’s to feed Sirus but who cares when you have McNuggets.

86. “You underestimate my love for steak.” “Fang, I literally didn’t say anything.” “My original statement still stands.”

87. Fang and Sirus run into K9 in public with his daughter. Fang goes up to K9′s daughter and introduces his boyfriend to her.

“Hey, Maple! How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know.” She fumbles around and crosses her arms. “School... Yourself?” She eyes Sirus next to him.

“I’m fine! Have you met my boyfriend? I don’t think you have. This is Sirus. Sirus, this is K9′s daughter. Her name is Mapleleaf.”

He gives Sirus a hearty smooch on the cheek, Maple giving off a funny smile.

“I had no idea you were gay, uncle Fang.”

“Well, neither did I half of high school.”

88. K9 is on an important Zoom call but Fang and Sirus just begin violently fucking behind him and he just picks up his camera and says “Right, I’m moving out of this room.”

89. K9 playing on the Xbox Fang keeps in the living room while Fang sweeps in front of him.

“Could you get out the way? I’m trying to play Skyrim. This is like, the eighth time you cleaned today.”

Fang stares at him with tired, angry eyes.

“Does it matter? You can’t play Skyrim worth shit.”

“... Is that a no, then?”

“I swear there’s this one speck of dust I just can’t get.”

90. Fang and Sirus are lying awake in bed. Sirus is recording the whole ordeal on his phone and it’s easy to see Fang is very annoyed at the fact his friend K9 invited his brother and a friend over- very late at night.

You can clearly hear them talking and laughing loudly and Sirus can’t help but snicker at Fang’s temper very slowly leaving him. Fang finally gets up and starts putting some clothes on.

Sirus turns his head over to the doorway and watches Fang leave. This is the conversation he hears them yelling.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Sirus hears in a deep, stern tone that could have the potential to turn him on probably.

There’s a silence until K9 speaks up.

“Oh, I just invited Boris and Amy over...-“

“Do you have any idea of what time it is?”

There’s another silence.

“It is three. In the FUCKING. MORNING. I wake up at five every fucking morning for work. Did I mention it’s Monday? Do you know how long it takes for my fur to dry? An hour. I work hard every fucking week. I work overtime whenever I can to squeeze in every little penny possible. I cook for you, offered you a place to stay because you have the weirdest FUCKING relationship with your siblings, I give you money that- oh yeah, YOU NEED TO PAY BACK. You owe me about one thousand... ten? Dollars now and I expect it. All of it, every penny of it. I do all this for you and you don’t even let me sleep so I can work tomorrow? This ISN’T your house. This is me and my boyfriend’s house. OUR house. You’re just staying in it. I’d personally appreciate if you could let me fucking sleep so I can wake back up, shower, wait an hour just to dry my fucking fur, put on my suit, make breakfast, and whatever the fuck so I can afford a ring and support Sirus and I’s dreams. The LEAST you could do. Is ASK to invite someone over. The LEAST.”

Sirus has his eyes wide in bed and he’s staring at the doorway. He could hear the living room be dead silent for a hot minute, then an unfamiliar female voice shyly rose.

“Do... do you want me to leave?”

“Whatever. Whatever. Make youself at home, Amy, Boris. At three in the morning. Uninvited. Without me or Sirus’s permission.”

Fang walks back into the bedroom, closing the door. He begins to button his shirt back off and his eyebrows immediately soften.

“Are you okay darling...?”

Sirus snorted and laughed into his pillow.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“You- you just... grew soft so fast... I’ve never heard you be so mad...”

“Mm...” Fang slid back into bed next to Sirus, Sirus quickly returns to his place on Fang’s chest. As soon as Sirus considered stopping the recording, K9 walks into their room. Ah, this is gonna be good...

K9 clears his throat.

“Look, sorry for not asking either of you for permisson, but please... come on Fang, even you usually have some decency when it comes to this stuff-“

“This isn’t your house.”

“I’m not finished!”

“I wouldn’t care if it kept me from getting sleep!”

“Oh! So you care about getting sleep, huh?? Well it sure is hard to tell when I lay on your couch every night to... to hear you and Sirus just FUCKING!! Fucking every fucking night! How do you expect ME to sleep when all I can hear is ‘Aahh! Sirus! Deeper, please!’?! If anything, this is payback!”

Fang quietly lipped at Sirus, “Are... are we that loud?”

“I tend not to pay attention.” Sirus said and shrugged, laughing internally at the two’s arguing.

“Oh, so you do it on purpose? Wow! But you come in and scream at me like you’re my mom that you can’t sleep-“

“I work tomorrow. Get the fuck out our room.”

K9 turns and stubbornly slams their door. Fang completely slides himself free of all his clothes and holds Sirus real close.

Sirus began to purr... “A ring...? You’re saving up to marry me?”

Fang put a finger to the lynx’s lips. “Rest love... rest...”

91. Fang eats ice-cream religiously and his freezer is full of nothing else.

92. Fang wearing a variety of gay looking outfits.

93. Wouldn’t it be cute if Fang owned Monstercat merch?

94. It’s canon Fang’s laptop is covered in Monstercat artist stickers.

95. Sirus is blogging through his phone and walking throughout the house just talking. He walks across the living room to a coat closet next to the front door.

“Uhh, yeah. This is our coat closet, and-“ He opens the door to reveal it’s Fang’s storage for his weird, expensive emo boots, chains, belts and whatever else. He steps inside just to circle around.

“I don’t know what the hell he’s doing... I don’t think I’m interested in knowing how much money went into this but some of these I’ve just never seen him wear... look, we have coats, but they’re...” He pushes other clothes like jackets a little farther up the clothes rack to show that the coats here are old and clearly have been forgotten about. “We only have like, two coats in our coat closet. The rest is just shoes and stuff.”

He stops touching things and starts moving out the door.

“So... anyways, he wants to fix this door, because, for some reason? The doorknob is really weird,”

He closes the door to the closet and shows off the doorknob that looks perfectly fine.

“I told him it’s been bothering me because this doorknob looks different from every other doorknob in this house... I don’t know what we’re gonna do about it because neither of us are very ‘handy’...” He turns the camera toward him while he’s running his fingers through his hair. “I think that’s a gay thing. I don’t know. I haven’t met a single homosexual who can fix stuff...”

96. Fang screaming, “Sirus! Sirus! Sirus! Sirus!!!! Look at me!! Look!!” And Sirus tiredly looks up at him to see him holding a roll of toilet paper. He puts it on top of his head.

“I’m Marshmello.”

97. A picture of Fang holding Sirus by the scruff captioned “Capped me one of those Canadian Lynx bfs”

98. Sirus gets the slightest upset with Fang and Fang is on his knees trying to make it up to his tiny boyfriend.

99. Sirus is showing Fang a song in process. Fang hums.

“Ooh, oh wow! That sounds amazing! And when you add the vocals it’ll be even more amazing! Just one thing though... that reverb is way too wet on the master. Why do you even have reverb on the master?”

Sirus looks really confused, and he furrows his eyebrows at Fang.

“... You... can have too much reverb?”

“Way too much. Turn that reverb down and maybe even consider taking it off the master.”

“I need... it on the master...”

“No, you don’t. It sounds way too wet throughout the entire song. That’s not what you want.”

“I like wet.”

Fang sighs.

100. Why is the thought of Sirus having a potentially thick Canadian accent so hot?

101. I’m pretty sure Styrix doesn’t even know his own sexuality. He’s too busy looking in a mirror to care about that.

102. If Sirus did have a Canadian accent, Fang would beg him to just keep talking.

103. (Again with the accent) Sirus is talking on the phone to Styrix. Fang is next to him, doing work on his laptop.

Sirus looks over at Fang.

“Fang, Styrix is wondering if he can come over to our house?”

Fang pauses for a minute. He slowly smiles and looks at Sirus with loving eyes. He begins to to repeat him.

“‘House’ huh?” Fang said, mimicking Sirus’s accent.

“Oh my god, not this again. House.”

“‘House’.~”

“... House!”

“‘House’.”

“Can he come over or not?!”

“Sure thing, cutie.”

Now Sirus is angy.

104. Neither of them have self-control. I know for a fact Fang won’t hesitate to suddenly and randomly hug Sirus just so he could start feeling around his body. Best thing? Sirus won’t be able to do anything about it. Fang’s got a tight grip on him and now he can play with Sirus’s body as much as he wants.

... Same with Sirus. Sirus may be small but he can still make dirty remarks and fondle with Fang’s crotch- sitting on it, taking off his shirt, any of that.

To be fair just Sirus talking turns Fang on, so. Nice.

105. Fang is snuggling Sirus in bed. He starts to feel him a little bit, Sirus whining.

“Is that poke I feel you?” Fang chuckles, sliding his hand down Sirus’s pants.

“Shame.~”

106. Sirus fake moans just for shits and giggles. In response, Fang pins him down and dares him to do it again.

107. Fang threatens to beat Sirus up for jokes. He takes off his belt and immediately Sirus starts blushing when he’s trying to escape getting hit.

108. Sirus wakes up early to feel a tender, warm rubbing at his crotch along with something a little heavy resting on his leg.

“Sleep well, little lynx?” Fang whispers in a bass-y tone, kissing his cheek. Sirus mumbles.

“What time is it?... What are you doing?...”

“Just thought I’d help you wake up a little bit, kitty.”

“... Why are you so horny...” Sirus squeaks, moving around a little bit.

“Mmh... woke up this way... like the way that feels, sugarplum?~”

Sirus sighed longingly. “Ghh... yeah...”

109. Fang is groping at Sirus’s ass softly on the couch, holding him tight.

“Hey kitty... you’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“Mhm...” Sirus groans, his face snuggled into the fox’s chest.

“All mine... nobody else’s... my lynx... right?~”

“Yes, darlin’... I am... ghh...”

He spanks Sirus softly and listens to him hiss in pain. He rubs the spot gently. Sirus moans.

“I-I am all yours, daddy! I am!”

110. Sirus looking rabid with a chicken leg in his mouth.

111. “Imagine having dead parents, couldn’t be me.” Fang says as Sirus stares at him and watches his eyes tear up.

112. Sirus is being pouty.

“I’m not cute!”

Fang pushes him right up against the wall and smooshes their lips together, making out with him passionately. He pulls back to Sirus blushing and says,

“Yes you are.”

113. Fang is snuggling with Sirus.

“Are you purring?” Fang leans into the lynx, listening to his body and feeling the vibrations.

“... Y... Yes...?”

Fang melts and covers him in kisses. He absolutely LOVES it when his baby purrs.

114. Fang is wearing a blue polo with small, colorful geometric shapes on it. You know, casual clothing.

Sirus squints at him.

“What is your obsession with looking like a bus seat?”

115. Fang fucking Sirus so raw that Sirus can’t move for like, a week.

[imbellarosa]

1989 things that keep me up at night

Or, that one Taylor Swift album that I ADORE while it confuses the fuck out of me. I’m doing the thing that I listen to the album as I write this, because I have so much to say and want to get it all right. This isn’t a cold read, I’ve heard it before, and I love it, but I did want to do a deeper analysis. If you want to read the last one that I did, it’s here. It’s about an accidental love song and it was tons of fun to do. The rest of this analysis is under the cut, because it might be the longest one yet. I’m a big fan of hers. 

As always, I’m going to go back to posting more political content in the morning, but I am very happy that all four officers in the murder of George Floyd have been charged with murder, and that Derek Chauvin in particular is being charged with second degree murder. If you’re looking for next steps: consider participating in activism on Breonna Taylor’s birthday (June 5th) or donating to Tony McDade’s memorial fund. 

So, on to the album! There are a few stand out songs, for me, in the album, including “I Wish You Would”, “Clean”, “This Love”, “Out of the Woods”, and “You Are In Love”. I don’t know if any of these were singles - the album is older at this point and I could go check but, eh. I don’t really think it matters anymore? I think if I stretch my memory to 2014, it was “Bad Blood”, “Blank Space”, “Style”, “Out of the Woods”, and “Shake it Off” that were singles. I don’t know if there were more, but I do remember those. Something that I find interesting is that the only crossover between the singles (that I remember) and my favorites is “Out of the Woods”, but that’s a phenomenal song. 

I think the first question I have to address is why this album confuses me. And the more I think of it, the more I realize that this album more sounds like two albums, telling two stories. The first story is that of a whirlwind romance in the public eye, filled with late night hook ups, seeing other people (publicly), and a superficial connection that will invariably go down in flames. This story features dramatic fall outs with contemporary artists, wild parties, and whispering voices. The second story is about a harder love, and a deeper one: it’s a story of fighting and fixing things, and letting go and coming together. It’s sweet, and beautiful, and tragic, and worth it. And these stories are fundamentally incompatible, at first glance. Your relationship is not simultaneously ephemeral and ethereal, and if you think it is, it’s time to reevaluate how honest you are being with yourself and what you want in your partner. (Spoiler alert: the song “Style” isn’t it. And neither is “Wildest Dreams”. No offense to either song or the people they were written about.)

The more I thought about it, the more this bugged me - until I dug deeper into her discography, and I noticed something interesting: Taylor Swift is a storyteller. She primarily tells her own stories, especially in Lover and Reputation, but that wasn’t always the case: “Mary’s Song” is sung in first person, and is about her neighbors’ love story. “Starlight” was written about someone in the Kennedy family's relationship with her husband Bobby (Bobby’s name is in the song). It is also sung in first person. “Ronan” is a song she wrote for charity, about a little boy who lost his battle to cancer, from the perspective of his mother. I always cry when I hear it, but it is, also, written in first person. I think those are enough for now, but I definitely can keep going.

Anyways, my point is this - I realized very quickly there were two ways I could read the album. The first is completely autobiographically: she is publicly one person and privately another. Her public persona is (at the time of 1989′s release) someone who parties, dates many people on and off, and fights with artists loudly. The private story she is offering is of someone who is deeply in love with one person, who wants to be successful, who wants to be themselves and safe with themselves and their partner, and is afraid of showing this side of themselves to the industry and the world. “Out of the Woods” highlights that anxiety well, as does “I Know Places”, and so does the line “you two are in a snow globe spinning round and round” (in “You Are In Love”), but that’s because I always imagine a snow globe like a sort of transparent show that is being obscured by the flurries, you know? Like everyone is watching, but if you move, the truth gets harder to see. 

The second way to read this - and I think the way I’m leaning - is that these are two different stories. The first one is still about that media image, and she’s playing off of her media image - one that has been proven to be demonstrably false at this point, and that she has admitted was almost forced on her at a really young age (and we’re gonna have a whole ass conversation about how the media treats children one of these days, you just watch). And the second story is still a love story: it’s just not hers. To me, this makes the most sense because of her switch between first and second person pronouns in these softer, gentler songs, as she gently steps in and out of the role of narrator. The other thing is that I don’t know a whole lot of her dating history? I never really cared. But I don’t remember her being in a really serious long term relationship at this point. I remember a lot of stories of short relationships with famous people, but nothing concrete or long lasting, in the way the song “I Wish You Would” or “This Love” or “You’re In Love” suggests. 

This perspective is fortified by “I Know Places”, in which she is literally talking about a secret relationship. She’s describing something that is hiding in plain sight, but can’t be honest, because “something happens when everybody finds out/ love’s a fragile little flame/it can burn out...”. So they (the people involved) go hide in these secret places (look, let’s be real. every celebrity has a secret place). What I think is interesting is that this isn’t the first time in the album that she talks about sneaking around and hiding. The first time this comes up is in “Style”, where she mentions that the dude comes searching for her with “no headlights”. She is clearly referencing herself in that song, as she describes her “red lips” and her “good girl thing/in a tight little skirt”. But the context is super different. She describes “Style” as a song that calls out trends - how people never get tired of listening about this kind of relationship. It’s always in style, so to speak. When she talks about “I Know Places”, she says its “about...everybody’s like trying to get in to it and ruin a love or whatever and it’s like...whatever. You know....” and then she goes on to keep talking about what she wants it to sound like. I got this from her voice memo in the preliminary conversation with her producer. 

She also describes I know places as “dark”, and she wanted that to carry over into the bridge, and it definitely does. However, I can definitively tell you that this story (and relationship) is different than the one in “Style”, because of the end. By the end of the song, she says: “They take their shots, but we're bulletproof (I know places)/And you know for me, it's always you (I know places)/In the dead of night, your eyes so green (I know places)/And I know for you, it's always me (I know places)”.  (Look I usually remove the hyperlinks for the lyrics but I really need y’all to click that because it freaked me out when I saw it. Very uncomfy). In Style, her bridge says “Take me home”, or some variation of that, and she doesn’t have an outro for the song, she repeats her chorus again, which reads: “Oh, you got that James Dean daydream look in your eye/And I got that red lip classic thing that you like/And when we go crashing down (And when we go)/We come back every time/'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style”. So rather than being something private, this is something that everyone will be talking about for a while. 

SIDE NOTE: If you like “Style”, I think you’d really like the song “Sun Queen” by Gerry Cinnamon . It’s also about the expectation of the industry and how the art affects the artist. The difference in this song is that the relationship is the real part of his life, and his art is what he feels is fake. 

ANYWAYS. I think she did a really clever thing by playing on her image. She kind of “became” the person they wanted her to be, while making it very clear that there was something else she wanted: the kind of love - the kind of life - she’s singing about. My favorite song on the album is “I Wish You Would”, which is about “remembering what we’re fighting for” in a relationship, and it���s also a song which she mentions is written about “two people”, and not herself (voice memo, delux album). I think that’s probably true. I think it is probably the case that she was not in the middle of a Great Love Story at this point in her life, and so she was borrowing material. The same thing happens in “You are in Love” - there, she can’t be any clearer - that it’s about someone that is not her. (It’s actually about her co-producer and writer Jack Antonoff’s relationship. Btw, he is a brilliant lyricist in his own right and his music is *chef’s kiss*).

The song that I think happens to be the crossover song between the real story and the carefully presented narrative is “Out Of The Woods”. She’s said that this song was about a relationship she had where the primary feeling was anxiety, and it makes sense (at least with the lyrics)! But at the end of the song, the relationship is stronger than ever: “...I walked out, I said, ‘I’m setting you free’/ But the monsters turned out to be just trees/ And when the sun came up/ You were looking at me”. And then she repeats her chorus again, where she seems to be relieved to finally be “out of the woods”. 

So here’s where I get stuck: I stand by my theory that her gentle love songs on this album aren’t about her own romances. But I don’t think she’s lying. I think this song is about something that was anxiety inducing to her. However, I don’t think that this means that she is the narrator of the song. And I know that the question then is: what is her role in the situation? I don’t know. A close friendship with someone who’s going through it, maybe? That can be really rough, and I know that I’ve gotten sucked into people’s drama. But I think that it’s someone else’s perspective, especially because this fits into the “hard, worth fighting for, intense and long term” category, rather than something like “Blank Space”, in which she literally does not know who she is talking about ( “I’ve got a blank space/ And I’ll write your name”). 

And there is SO MUCH MORE I can say, but that was really my main point: I think she’s telling two different stories, and that it creates an environment that you don’t really know what’s going on or where to turn to understand the story. I listened to the full album a bunch of times before I came up with this read of it. Do I know who the other people I think she’s talking about are? Nope. And I don’t super think it matters. The songs and words are hers, and they’re gorgeous. Do I know what people think this album is about? Yup. Does it change my read of it? Not at all. I think my analysis stands, even - and especially - in context. 

So I still love this album. And I’m beyond thrilled that she has the kind of love she’s always been singing about. And I really hope that the other people she was hanging out with/dating/writing about are all doing amazing as well, particularly the human(s) in “I Know Places” and “I Wish You Would”.  I hope that they are still fighting for each other, and that they still feel like it’s “Always You” (/Always me but that sounds more narcissistic haha). If they are different relationships (like, if rather than her just focusing on one couple, she’s talking about many), I hope that they are all happy, successful, and in love. I hope that they don’t hang out in “Wonderland” anymore (although I think that song’s about a fake relationship, I’m just saying). I hope that they have long nights with fairy lights and soft songs. I hope she does, too. 

[hopeless-island]

Dying Dream Cast Directory

A helpful guide to remind you about the main crew of the Hopeless Pirates and their basic info stuffs. Keep in mind, names are done the Japanese way. So, Last name/middle initial/ first name

Also, there are spoilers in here for all people who are not caught up with the story. Read at your own risk.

Captain: 

Gol D. Maven 

Nickname/known as: Maven/ Usurper Maven/ “Momma Maven”/ Big Sis Maven

Age: 20 (at the beginning of Canon)

Disease: Usurper’s Syndrome. A terminal illness that is continual, and progressively aggressive, muscle degradation. Combats this disease by building muscle faster than it can degrade, leading to painfully slow increase in strength and low muscle mass on her body.

Appearance: Like a gender-swapped Ace essentially. Small chest, much wider waist than typical for OP characters. Clearly defined abs, lithe but defined muscles on arms and legs. She is not thickly built, her disease keeping her from being “bulky” and making her body remain rather lanky despite the strength on it. About 6′1″, long wavy black hair that goes down to her butt and is extremely wild and untamed. Freckles on her face that add a slight childish appearance to her face, and sleepy looking gray eyes. Always carries Stormfall, a large battle axe/halberd with a purple metal butterfly-winged blade. Stormfall is over six and a half feet tall, so the blade is always poking above Maven’s head a bit. 

First Mate:

 Nymph Katylan

Nickname/Known as: Katie/ Dark Nymph Katylan

Age: two years younger than Maven. 

Disease: Unnamed terminal immunodeficiency, alluded to being like AIDS. 

Appearance: Stereotypical blond rich-girl appearance. Classic OP-girl physique, with large bust and small waist. Straight gold-blond hair that falls a few inches past her shoulders, and large sapphire-blue eyes. Commonly wears light colored sundresses with exercise shorts underneath just incase she fights, so there is never an indecent moment. She is also the Helmsman and Archer for the crew, and uses an ivory-white recurve bow made by Kilik.The center of the bow can change lengths, controlling the strength and range of the bow. Average female height of about 5′7″

Navigator (Original):

Linral

Nickname/Known as: Rabid Linral/ Lin

Age: 18 at death

Disease: Unnamed cancer, alluded to being more than just one type as it is “everywhere.” 

Appearance: Short tomboy, but with classic OP-girl body. She had short silver-white hair cut in a boyish pixie cut, and bright emerald-green eyes that she took pride in. Her body was littered with small scars, though not so many as to keep guys from blatantly trying to flirt with her. As stated earlier, she was very short-- just barely over five feet tall. Primarily a brawler, she had slightly more defined muscles than even Maven, considering Lin’s own disease didn't effect her muscle mass. Usually wore boy’s sports shorts and a grey or black tank top.

Weaponsmith (Original):

Kilik

Nickname/Known as: Kilik/ (I couldn’t remember/find his pirate name, so I made a new one up) Killing Steel Kilik

Age: 21 at death

Disease: Due to being unwillingly experimented on, his body developed the ability to produce its own organic poison straight into his own bloodstream. It never stopped his production, and production sped up over time. Too high of a concentration, and it would be fatal. 

Appearance: About 5′10″, with fluffy cinnamon-brown hair that is on the long side, almost brushing his shoulders, and chocolate brown eyes. He is somewhat lanky, not muscular but with his own brand of lithe strength. Overall boyish, with most of his muscle mass being centered in his arms without being bulky, because of his occupation as a blacksmith. Also a swordsman. Known for creating a bunch of really wacky, weirdly-designed “swords” and other weapons in an attempt to find his own unique sword style. He finally did, after making round “swords” in the shape of clocks. Usually wore a simple black or mustard-yellow t-shirt and dark jeans with brown or denim overalls. 

Doctor: 

Razdall 

Nickname/Known as: Raz/ Misery’s Herbalist Razdall

Age: 24 at the start of Canon

Disease: Unnamed heart condition, makes him extremely susceptible to spikes in blood pressure and heart rate. Weak heart. 

Appearance: About 6′0, with short but messy purple hair. Gray eyes the same shade as Maven’s, but instead of having narrow eyes like she does his just look perpetually bored. His body is pretty lanky, and since he isn’t a fighter he doesn’t have much muscle mass at all. he has a slight, perpetual slouch and usually wears a black or dark purple turtleneck with black, slightly baggy pants and a lab coat with the Hopeless Pirate jolly roger on the back.  Never seen without a utility belt laden with different pouches, orbs, and syringes full of his battle-ready herbal concoctions.

Seamstress:

Yalla

Nickname/Known as: Yalla/ Pretty Ninja Yalla (at least I think that’s what I went with as her pirate name... I can’t remember/ find it >.<) 

Age: 15 at the start of Canon

Disease: Assassin’s syndrome. Similar to Usurper’s, but instead of muscle it is a constant degradation of organs in the body. 

Appearance: A cutsey girly-girl, she has bubblegum-pink hair and bright golden yellow eyes. Originally she wore her hair up in constant long pigtails, but she started to wear it down after Kilik’s death. It reaches her knees when left down. She usually wears a frilly pink, gold, and black kimono that is cropped around the knee with sunflower-yellow boy shorts underneath incase any incidents occur. The kimono has three-quarter sleeves instead of the traditional long sleeves. She pairs it with flip-flops or goes barefoot. Still growing, she is relatively short at about 5′4″. She ate the Ribbon-Ribbon fruit and grew up as an acrobat in a circus, so she is not only very nimble and usually fights aerially, but she can turn her body into ribbons. 

Shipwright:

Gino

Nickname/Known as: Gino/ Black Thorn Gino

Age: mid-thirties by Canon

Disease: Akui Hanahaki. Like the Hanahaki in other stories, this disease grows flowers in and off of the victim’s lungs, causing them to hack up flowers and leaves from it as the disease progresses. Unlike the normal mythical disease, this one is caused by hatred from a loved one rather than unrequited love. The only cure is being forgiven, but the person whose hatred caused Gino’ s illness is dead so it is officially terminal for him. He coughs up black roses. 

Appearance: A large tiger-shark fishman, he clocks in at about 7′7″ and has greyish-blue skin with subtle grey stripes down his back and the back of his bald head, and partially over his shoulders and the back of his upper arms. Usually wears a black or dark grey tank top and black cargo pants or cargo shorts. He fights with spiked iron knuckles, and (spoiler alert) gets them upgraded to Seastone spiked knuckles after the Magician arc. He is very bulky, unlike the majority of the crew. Classic body of a thug/body builder type, with bulging biceps, very well-muscled chest/torso, and several tattoos. 

Dancer: 

Synalla

Nickname/Known as: Synalla/ “Crew Grandma”/ Slice-Dancer Synalla 

Age: Late twenties by Canon. About 28 or 29..?

Disease: Unnamed lung disease. Fashioned a bit after Cystic Fibrosis, but obviously made into a fantasy terminal illness. 

Appearance: She is a Snakeneck, and from her feet to the top of her head she is about 11′4″, with her neck by itself taking up almost half of that. Her body, like with most Snakenecks, is naturally lithe and lanky. Her hair is jet black, and goes down the entirety of her over-four-foot neck in sharp zig-zags that for some reason never lose shape. She dresses like a tango dancer almost constantly, in long brightly colored Mexican-styled dresses that end at her ankle and matching flats. She fights with tessen, or bladed war fans. She dances with them, too. She is naturally maternal and tends to mother hen, earning herself the nickname ���Granny” or “Grandma” within the crew. 

Scout/ Navigator (new): 

Cala

Nickname/Known as: Cala/ Lynx Cala 

Age: about 26 by the start of Canon

Disease: Nature’s wrath syndrome, another disease similar to Usurper’s and Assassin’s syndrome. This version is constant degradation of the bones and severe calcium deficiency/the body burns through calcium at a really fast rate.

Appearance: Is it even a surprise by now? Cala is lanky, as apparently most of the rest of the crew omfg where is my originality at? But to the point of being almost bony. He has very short-cropped blue hair, buzzed but not shaved. He ate the cat-cat model: Lynx fruit, and can change into a lynx. He is incredibly frail because of his disease and tends to stay out of fights unless absolutely necessary (I have bones of glass, and paper skin...) But he makes an excellent scout and spy with his enhanced senses from his Zoan fruit. He, uh. honestly I haven’t put much thought into his wardobe. He’s a bony cat dude. Probably wears long blue basketball shorts and goes shirtless half the time honestly, idk. 

Crew Hypnotist..? I honestly don't know this guy’s role, I think he’s just a combatant/ bums out on the Dream honestly. 

Dyan

Nickname/Known as: Dyan/ King Dyan/  Deranged Prince Dyan (Pirate nickname)

Age: idk if I put a solid age for him, but he’d be about 40 by the start of Canon

Disease: Similar to Kilik, Dyan’s blood itself is mutating and becoming toxic to itself. There is no known cure. 

Appearance: He ate the child-child fruit, so he looks to be about 10 years old instead of his true age. He has spiky dark green hair, and is about 4′3″. He has a child’s body, so no real visible muscle mass or anything. He did used to be the King of the Ceres kingdom though, so he is constantly dressed in high quality clothes and somehow always looks like a stereotypical child prince/ rich brat. His devil fruit hypnotizes people along with making him stay in a child’s body, but you can read more about his devil fruit in the story itself. 

Magician

Azalea

Nickname/Known as: Azalea/ Scarlet Magician Azalea

Age: I don’t remember if I gave her an exact age, but we’ll say 23 by Canon

Disease: Cancer (sound familiar? (;)  Cured by Trafalgar Law. 

Appearance: about 5′9″, with bright, vibrant red hair in an asymmetrical pixie cut that she is just now beginning to grow out. Classic OP-girl body, but with muscular legs that most people seem to not notice. She is a magician, and as such is always wearing a maroon suit jacket, black slacks, and a bowtie. She has a flair for the dramatic. whatever she wears, she is always stylish. She does, in fact, have a magic wand that she uses occasionally. sporty-cute-girl. OH yeah, she has the feel-feel fruit and can sense everyone’s emotions and shit

I think that’s it for the Dying Dream crew. Whoo that took a while. There ya go!

[imastrangeone98]

Lost and Found - Chapter 16: One Last Obstacle

(A/N: the ultimate showdown is beginning to make an appearance! I'm pretty excited, wby non-existent fans??)

Here's some bad nice little filler before the main event. Also wow spoiler alert: I made Gabriel a super creep and it made my skin crawl just writing it

Also wow this is the longest chapter by far I think. Beware XD

WARNING: this chapter may contain sensitive discussion on god and religion. If you're someone easily sensitive to this, then plz do not read

The trio landed on the marble floor, quickly examining their surroundings in shock.

"What the hell happened?" Lady asked, gripping tightly at the Kalina Ann.

"Is it me, or is everyone dead?" Dante chimed in, kicking at a nearby corpse.

Faith closed her eyes, and felt around her surroundings, searching for any emotion from the fallen angels- fear, pain, despair, anything- only to find absolutely nothing. "It seems that with God's purification, the angels somehow lost the source of their power, and the loss of it must have been too much for them to handle."

"Honestly, if you... purified it- Him... shouldn't they get stronger?" Her friend scratched her head in confusion. Lady always hated when something couldn't quite click in her head.

"Perhaps... the angels were never as angelic as the Bible made them out to be. And God was not the holy being that everyone believed Him to be."

The half-demon hummed. "I mean, look at His insides. That shit was black as sin."

"Yes-"

RAGEHATREDHOPEGRIEFMOURNINGLOSTFAMILYLOSTFATHERLOSTELIZABETHELIZABETHELIZABETH-

She flinched. "Dante. Lady. You need to leave now."

"What? Why?" He turned to her, reeking confusion. "They're all dead; we can go home."

"No," the nephilim corrected. Panic began to settle in her bones. "There's one left."

"How? Who?"

"The strongest of all. Gabriel." Fear made her stomach churn. She frantically pushed them towards the exit high above. "Dante, I want you to fly Lady back."

There was a soft beat of wings somewhere in the cavern.

He approaches.

"What?! No! What about you?" Lady stubbornly planted her feet on the floor. "We're not leaving without you."

"Ditto." Dante placed his hands of Faith's shoulders; they were shaking. "I'm not losing anyone else."

He's scared, she realized. He was terrified; he had lost his mother and his brother- he refused to lose any more that he cared for... Like me.

"Dante..." she tried to reassure him, holding his trembling hand. "I'll be okay-"

His hand suddenly squeezed hers painfully. "We need to go. Now."

ELIZABETH!

Faith's head ached. "Go!" She pushed at her friends, urging them to hurry. "Go!"

"Faith!"

Time stood still. The overwhelming grief that suddenly filled her was physically staggering. Images flew through her mind- images of a beautiful young woman in a flowing white dress, of her smiling at someone, of her taking a walk in a blooming meadow with a small bundle in her arms-

Of her face twisted in agony as her wings were ripped out of her shoulder blades.

Faith collapsed to the ground. Her entire body trembled. Tears spilled out of her eyes, and she squeezed them shut.

Why? Why did that hurt her so much? She didn't even know that woman, yet she could feel the pain. Her shoulders burned, as if it were her wings that were being ripped off.

"Faith!" Someone called to her. Who...? "What's wrong? Come on, we need to go!" Warm hands cradled her, and she was suddenly lifted into the air. "Hey, asshole! Leave us alone!"

A voice boomed, "GIVE HER TO ME!" It was so strong, it felt like her bones were shaking.

"FUCK YOU!" a high-pitched voice screamed.

LOSSMOURNINGGIVEHERBACKTOME!!!

Her body felt heavy, a useless weight in someone's arms. She would only slow them down.

And that was exactly the archangel's plan.

Pain rippled throughout her entire being. More images of the mysterious woman flashed behind her eyelids.

"Let me go," she croaked out. "Run."

"No!" Oh, so it was Dante. His cinnamon fragrance was familiar. How had she not recognized it earlier? "We can make it!"

"It's me he's after," she said, looking up at her companion. It hit her- this could be the last time she would see him. No doubt Gabriel had something horrendous planned for her. With some effort, she stroked his cheek. "I'll hold him off. Go home."

Something wet fell on her cheek. And she was shocked to see him cry. "I won't leave you."

He would fight. She knew this. If it meant that she'd go with them, he'd do anything. And she refused to see him die trying to do so.

"I'll be okay," she whispered, patting his arm. "Trust me."

Lady rushed to their side, tears streaming down her cheeks- no doubt it was Gabriel's handiwork. "We can't hold him off! What do we do?"

Dante was silent for a few precious seconds. Then, slowly- painfully- he set Faith on her feet.

"Dante...?" Oh, no- she suspected something.

"We need to go." His voice was brittle; the fear and heartbreak that radiated from him was almost enough to break Faith completely. Almost.

Lady stared at him, the suspicion gleaming in her eyes. "What's going-"

Instantly Triggering, he grabbed his friend's arms, hoisting her up. "No time. It's ride or die."

"Bye, Lady." Faith brushed her fingers over her cheek, one last time, embedding it to memory. "I'll see you soon."

"Wait, what-?!" She never got to finish her sentence, as she immediately started screaming when the half-demon took off, zooming through the exit above them.

They took her heart with them.

But of course, there was no time to mourn. Gabriel was upon her. And she would have to face him, whether she was ready or not.

And she turned, finding herself face to face with the archangel himself.

And archangel he was indeed. His entire form radiated power: he stood tall above her, sunlight eyes ablaze with some emotion even Faith couldn't quite explain, hair as fine as corn-silk delicately framing his face, his body rippling with pulsing energy that nearly sent her reeling.

Yet she remained standing. Her violin- pieced back together and lined with new gold- manifested in her hands. "I know who you are," she managed to say, swallowing down her fear and growing sense of deja vu. "And I'm not afraid of you."

"Nor should you be," he replied, brushing a stray hair out of her face. A gentle smile traced his face. "You have her eyes."

"Whose eyes?" she asked, beginning to wonder if talking with him any further was a good idea. Despite his smile, something sinister lurked underneath.

Something... unclean.

"Elizabeth." His eyes turned soft, like marigolds swaying in a breeze. "Your mother. I see the resemblance." A finger lovingly stroked her cheek. "You never knew her. I always regretted that."

She shuddered, the gesture leaving goosebumps on her skin. "I don't know what it is you speak of. But I know you're looking for a fight. So I'll give you one."

"Now, now. Violence is not necessary here." He circled her, occasionally poking at her sides, or tugging her hair, or taking note of her many scars. "She was very beautiful. And you are so..." He paused, a slight grimace taking over his features. "...Not."

Why was his voice so... wrong? Why did it send shivers down her spine?

"How strange, don't you think?" he mused, resting a hand on her head, ignoring the way she flinched under his touch. "Human blood taints everything it touches. So much war, so much hatred, so much death. Conflicts arise from the slightest wound of pride, divisions built over meager physical differences. It could have all been stopped, had your human weakness not gotten in the way."

"Weakness?" She gazed at her scars, traced the marks on her neck and shoulder. "Or strength?"

"Strength?" he cackled. "What strength do you have? Everyone you loved, and everyone who loved you, now exist only in your memory."

"Not everyone." Dante. Lady.

"Humanity is a weakness, my dear. All we wanted to do was save it." He stroked her neck with a brush of his hand, and she could just feel the wonder he had- the shared dream of a new heaven and a new earth, a gold-and-crystal kingdom and shining gates of pearl, all of His people equal in His eyes, filled with unabashed joy-

Nothing but joy, united under one shared mind. No memories, no talents, no blessedly unique moments shared between one another.

A white canvas. An empty note.

"You'd turn them into dolls," she realized with horror. "You'd take away everything from them. Everything that makes them who they are."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Delicately smoothing down her hair, he continued, "There would be no more pain. No more suffering. You and your friends," he eyed her scars, "would be free."

"Just not from you. And besides..." She gazed at her scars, thought of Lady's eyes, of Dante's sharp teeth. "Differences make us unique."

Gabriel released a heaving sigh. "And here I was hoping we could still... cooperate." He slid away from her, much to her relief. His hands were much too cold. "Your blood may be tainted, but it still holds power. Why use it to protect those who are only destined to die?"

"I don't know. Why did God make us so vulnerable?"

His eyes hardened. "Do not insult Father."

"He's dead," she retorted. "And the way I see it, He's always done better when He was silent."

"You insolent-" He stopped himself and sucked in a deep breath. "You're just like your mother."

Faith froze. "What?"

"Before she died, she said the exact same thing." Rage simmered within him, just barely held back by an almost impossible amount of patience. "What a pity that you will die just the same."

With a swipe of his hand, a paintbrush manifested in his grip, and he sent a flash of gold and hatred flying towards her.

On instinct, she summoned her violin and eased a soothing note through the air. When they clashed, it was like the world itself exploded. Bodies and chunks of marble flew everywhere.

The scar on Faith's heart ached. Before she could stop it, blood leaked out of her chest, coalescing into the all too familiar form of her father.

Gabriel sneered. "So. He's decided to make an appearance. Well then..." With a few strokes of his brush, a form of a woman began to emerge- with luscious hair that tumbled off her shoulders, piercing honey eyes, and beautiful wings that shimmered with a thousand colors.

She radiated power, much like Gabriel- no, they were practically equals. And even worse...

She seemed so... familiar. Had she seen this angel before?

Whoever she was, her father seemed to know her. They seemed to be watching each other, and they radiated so many emotions it nearly sent Faith reeling- betrayal, hope, longing, love?

"아빠?" she called out quietly. "괜찮아?"

Slowly, the ghost nodded. A violin took form in his hands, and he raised it to his chin.

"A touching family reunion?" Gabriel cackled. "I suppose it's a good thing you'll join them."

She huffed; the faces of her beloved friends floated just behind her eyelids. "Well, I suppose you'll have to kill me first." As she began to play, Bach's Parita No. 2 flowing through the air, she announced, "And if you want to kill me, pray that I don't Fade you first."

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

A/N: it's always the filler that's kinda boring, that's kinda the shitty part about writing stories and I'm not good at writing filler like this

But then again I'm not all that great at writing action either, especially the weird action that's gonna happen in the next chapter so

Whatever it's fine XD no one reads this anyway!

아빠? - dad?   괜찮아? - are you okay?

Edit: read chapter 17! :D

[swissmissficrecs]

Johnlock Advent Calendar, Part 2

Back in 2014, I posted a Johnlock Advent Calendar of 24 fic recs related to Christmas. There have been a lot of good ones posted since then, so it’s time for part 2! 1. a good old-fashioned happy ending (32731 words) by darcylindbergh Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: And Sherlock stands there, in the middle of a Christmas market as John hums along to Silent Night, John’s hand warm in his with fingertips a little gritty from the cinnamon-sugar doused churros they’d shared, and thinks, oh, that’s–that’s an idea, isn’t it? For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves.

2. A Party on Christmas Eve (15729 words) by PoppyAlexander Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A collection of ficlets for December, prompted by MissDavis in her 2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge. John and Sherlock first meet when John moves into 221C Baker Street. Will romance bloom before a party on Christmas eve? (spoiler alert: Yes, it will. Of course it will.) I'm going to try to cram in all our favourite holiday fic tropes here, too. Enjoy!

3. a vein of frost (58023 words) by Zingiber Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, John Watson/Original Female Character(s) Summary: As winter falls over London, Sherlock finds himself struggling to cope with a five-year-old goddaughter, a bizarre series of holiday-themed murders, and a new woman in John's life. Written for the Sherlock December Ficlet Challenge.

4. Another Auld Lang Syne (30234 words) by DiscordantWords Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Rosamund Mary "Rosie" Watson, Mrs. Hudson (Sherlock Holmes), Molly Hooper, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade Additional Tags: Christmas, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining Sherlock, Pining John, Post-Season/Series 04, First Kiss, Holidays, Winter, Advent Calendar, Past Drug Use, Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Ficlet Collection, Drinking, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss Summary: There had been years of missed chances.

5. Breaking Christmas (18606 words) by MissDavis Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Join me in some established relationship Johnlock as I attempt to make Sherlock and John participate in some Seasonal Fucking Cheer. Chapter 18: John's New Year's Eve Appointment: In which John finally comes around to Sherlock's point of view that the pleasure derived from a bit of body piercing far outweighs any risks involved.

6. Christmas Time After Time (41543 words) by PlaidAdder Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mary Morstan/John Watson, Clara/Harry Watson Summary: John's not really big on Christmas; and this year, the first after Mary's death, he's not feeling it. Everyone's away, Sherlock's on a case--alone--and Rosie's asleep. But that's all right. He's fine. He'll just have a quiet Christmas Eve by himself, drinking in front of the telly.  Only out there in time and space, there's another Doctor who thinks that sounds like the saddest thing ever. And she's going to do something about it. Thirteen takes John on a whirlwind tour of Christmases past and future. The more he learns about this time travel thing, the more John starts to wonder how his current timeline became...what it is. Might these alternatives hold the key to a less miserable present, and maybe a brighter future?

7. Christmas With You (23081 words) by MissDavis Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Watch Sherlock, John and Rosie over the years as they celebrate the season as only they can.

8. Elementary, Actually (26526 words) by blueink3 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Just back from the war, 26-year-old John Watson is looking for a job. Luckily, his old buddy Mike Stamford has one in mind: “Mike, you did not tell me this was a porno.” “What? It’s not!” “No? Then why the hell am I being asked to eventually take my kit off and mount some kid who barely looks like he’s out of secondary!” He expects Mike to be angry or indignant on his behalf, but what he does not expect is for the man to burst out laughing on the other end of the phone. “Mike!” “Sorry, sorry. Are you serious? Frankie told me it was an art house/independent type but I thought he meant Little Miss Sunshine, not Eyes Wide Shut!”  “Oh my God, Mike, I’m going to kill you.” Or, what happens when the author watches Love Actually with Johnlock in mind.

9. Five Christmases that went wrong and one that didn't (11685 words) by love_in_mind_palace Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John isn’t sure about most of the things in his life. Except for the fact that he loves Sherlock, Sherlock loves him back and that after years of bad luck, he is getting the Christmas he always deserved.

10. Ghost Stories (22256 words) by SwissMiss Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

11. Ghosts (14752 words) by orphan_account Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: A dead man is haunted by ghosts at Christmastime and, together, they help bring him back to life

12. Home for Christmas (19499 words) by SilentAuror Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: It's been eleven months since Eurus Holmes happened, and just one since John and Rosie moved back into Baker Street at last. With Christmas just around the corner, both Sherlock and John are slightly baffled when Mrs Hudson decides to give them a slow cooker as a "house-warming present"...

13. I Just Want You for My Own (166706 words) by cwb Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Sherlock and John head home from their respective schools for the winter break.

14. In Bed (46922 words) by Ellipsical Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: The sequel to Guilty Secrets. How do the sons of silent, bitter houses love? Like this.

15.  Johnlock Advent 2018 (47773 words) by sussexbound Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: Some of you may remember the 2017 Johnlock Advent. It was a collaboration between @honeybeelullaby, @chained-to-the-mirror, and myself. @honeybeelullaby provided the wonderful prompts, @chained-to-the-mirror drew pictures based on those, and I wrote a ficlet for each one. It was a real blessing for all three of us then, so… IT’S BACK!!

16. Let Nothing You Dismay (13326 words) by OpalJade Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: For lack of a better Christmas gift idea, John makes a booklet of redeemable coupons for Sherlock. 17. Merlot (14844 words) by Itsallfine Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: “Because you’ve been through enough. The both of you have been through so much, and it’s time to just be happy, okay?” she continued, rather more gently. “It’s time. You asked for my help, and I’m giving it. Let yourself be happy, Sherlock Holmes.” Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays. Written for the 25 Days of Fic-Mas 2015 challenge on tumblr. Chapter 16 is the only explicit one and can be easily skipped. The rest of the fic is rated T.

18. Oh, my friends, it's been a long hard year (11914 words) by splix Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mr. Chatterjee/Mrs. Hudson, Sherlock Holmes' Father/Mummy (Sherlock) Summary: Christmas is rubbish this year.

19. Points (53791 words) by lifeonmars Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: The little things are infinitely the most important. -- "A Case of Identity," Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. What if His Last Vow never happened? This fic picks up a few months after John and Mary's wedding, in an alternate universe where Magnussen doesn't exist, but Mary is still pregnant. Life continues -- just in a different direction. And slowly, Sherlock and John find their way to each other.

20. Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing Christmas Spirit (15002 words) by SilentAuror Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: John hates Christmas. So does Sherlock, but he suggests that they do Christmas "properly" this year to see if they can't track down its elusive magic and discover for themselves what Christmas is supposed to be about.

21. The Adventure of the Crossed Streams (23239 words) by mydwynter Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: I scowled, annoyed as usual by Holmes's intrusion on my privacy. I was afraid that some day he might read something more telling, something more dangerous, and that in uncovering the truth he would ruin our intimate friendship for good. "I’m not exactly feeling up to scratch this morning, Holmes." "And yet your eyebrows continue their semaphore." Christmas Eve day. Come mid-morning, Holmes and Watson find themselves with three gifts, two cases, and one mild hangover. If they're lucky, they won't be additionally burdened with a partridge in a pear tree—though with the direction everything is heading, Watson wouldn't bet against it.

22. To the Gold of Frankincense through Myrrh (10031 words) by sideris Rating: Explicit Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson Summary: After Sherlock's imprisonment for the murder of Charles Augustus Magnussen, he's released on licence into Mycroft's care. It's December and when Mycroft asks him what he'd like for Christmas, there's only one answer. "John."

23. The Holiday Cycle (115450 words) by flawedamythyst Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherrinford Holmes/Molly Hooper Summary: “If we vote to allow you to be an exception to the law, you will celebrate every holiday,” said Father Christmas. “With as much enthusiasm as you can." John and Sherlock made a deal so that Sherlock could come home. Now it's time for them to uphold it.

24. The Key (11689 words) by 221b_careful_what_you_wish_for Rating: Mature Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, James Sholto/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/Victor Trevor Summary: Six months after the tarmac scene, John gives his key to 221B Baker Street back to Sherlock, deciding he needs a clean start -- but there's too much left unresolved for that to easily happen. (I wrote this purely for the feels, wondering what would happen if John walked away after all the trauma of S3... You know they can't stay apart, but what might happen in between?)

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 15

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,”

 Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Word Count: 1.9k

They finally reached his room and Hayden lowered Nathan to rest on his bed, he was embarrassed by having to need help to his room, she had left and then returned holding a small bottle in her hands. She popped it open and held a couple of pills in her hand before handing Nathan the glass of water next to his bed and two pills.

“Take these for the pain, they should kick in within an hour, but you should still try to rest. You’ll heal a lot faster when your body is focusing its attention on the injury,”

“Thanks,” he grumbled before swallowing the pills down with the water. She nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

He moved his head back and closed his eyes slowly, breathing out and concentrating on relaxing, he had no idea how tired he actually was until that moment and sleep took over him instantly.

                                                            * * *

 “I didn’t think your computer would be very accurate but it actually works very well,” Hayden said as she read through the results on the papers.

“We have many impressive things in X Mansion, only problem is computer cannot design suit to your personal preferences, only give materials we need to create it. So I will help in creating design with you,” said Colossus, she raised an eyebrow at him. “I am decent at drawing.” He shrugged.

“He’s being modest, he’s crazy good,” Ellie spoke up and then she took the papers from Hayden and riffled through them, “Colossus you should start working on the design, I’ll search for where we can get the materials.”

The metal man nodded and guided Hayden out the room, following behind her.

                                                          * * *

  Three Hours Later

Nathan opened his eyes and sat up groggily, he’d been asleep for nearly two hours, the pills had done their job and the throbbing pain from earlier had ceased for now.

He swung his legs over the bed to the floor and stood up slowly, he wasn’t fully awake yet but he wanted to see what was happening with the others. He washed his face and quickly dabbed it with a towel before heading downstairs feeling a little more awake.

It took him fifteen minutes to finally find them, he heard Hayden laughing and peaked around the frame to see her sitting next to Colossus who had a sketchpad in front of him and was sketching, he felt a twinge of jealousy pop into his mind as her hand touched Colossus lightly on his broad metallic shoulder and he shook his head ignoring his inner thoughts.

  “Hey, you’re up!” her smile grew as she noticed Nathan standing at the door; he walked in and came nearer to the table they were seated around.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” he looked around at the scattered crumpled papers, pencil shavings and for some reason, crayons.

He was surprised that Colossus had not tidied the mess up until he realised most of the chaos surrounded Wade who had seated himself happily on top of the table like a naughty child, his legs crossed with a sketchpad rested on his lap as he drew in silence.

“We’re designing my suit,” she said with a note of eagerness.

“I’m helping!” Wade said like an excited little boy, Hayden shook her head and mouthed ‘He’s not’ which made Nathan smirk. “See, I’m already done, Colossus is so slow. Take a look, its awesome right?” he asked.

She took the sketchbook Wade had drawn in and looked over the picture, her smile turned to a frown quickly and she threw the sketchbook at Wade, he barely dodged it and it landed open on the drawing he’d done onto the table in front of Colossus.

  “Wade, you’re disgusting. And also what universe are you from where you think you of all people would see me wearing that of all things?” she crossed her arms.

Nathan glanced down and saw a childlike drawing of a sexy female form wearing what looked like the skimpiest lingerie possible.

“You’re a pig Wade,” Nathan scrunched his nose.

“Da,” Colossus agreed after seeing the sketch and covering his eyes.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Wade sighed and grabbed the sketchbook, “I won’t sit here and take this any longer!” he awkwardly stumbled from his position on the table and then stood up dramatically.

“Where are you going?” Hayden asked.

“I’m going to have a meeting with Cinnamon about how rude you all are,” Wade said and Nathan rolled his eyes.

“Translation: You’re off to masturbate.”

“It’s sad that you know me that well,” Wade shook his head, “Oh well, you’re stuck with me, forever.” He whispered the last part.

                                “I’m still waiting for the day where I can convince myself that saving his ass was a good idea,” Nathan sighed.

“That would be an eternity, and then some,” she nodded her head sideways.

“It is ready.” Colossus suddenly spoke; he moved his sketchbook in front of Hayden.

“Wow, Colossus it’s great. Thank you,” she gave him a side hug, Nathan felt his eye twitch involuntarily. “I’m going to show Ellie so that we can get the right colours for the materials,” she bounced off her seat with the sketchbook in hand and bounded out the door.

Nathan’s voice went deeper than usual as he spoke, “Why are you always so nice to her, huh?”

“I’m sorry?” he asked feeling genuinely confused, “I am nice to everyone.”

“Well stop being so nice to her, or we’re going to have a problem,” he warned before leaving the room.

“Bozhe moy. What did I do wrong?” Colossus asked himself.

                                                           * * *

  Back in the Rec Room

“I’m glad we’ve sorted all that out, thanks for this Ellie.” She smiled and the girl simply nodded, “Um, I’m not sure where Colossus disappeared to, but could you thank him for me?”

She nodded, “Sure,”

“HAYDES, we have a situation so drop whatever the fuck you’re doing this is more important-” Wade came running inside, panting heavily.

“What is it now Wade?” she turned to him.

“I fucked up big time,”

“Um, don’t you always?”

“Wow, just rub salt in the wound it’s fine I have regenerative healing, right? But seriously just-” he stopped speaking when he noticed Ellie.

“I’m leaving Douchepool, whatever you broke now is not my problem,” she rolled her eyes and left the room.

Wade looked around the room and pulled Hayden closer to him, “Cable’s going to kill me.”

  “You actually messed around with it when I told you it was a bad idea?” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “God Wade, do you only have two brain cells? I swear if you do, one bounces around idly in there while the other masturbates in a dark corner with a unicorn.”

“Pretty much yeah,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, “I can’t help myself.”

She slapped the back of his head, “You’re an idiot.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Save my sorry ass? Please?” Wade asked trying to give the biggest sad eyes he could muster.

“Fine, where is it?” she sighed.

“Has anybody seen my gun, Hades, Dickhead?” Nathan asked suddenly appearing from around the corner.

“Shit fuck,” Wade then whispered, “He knows.”

She spoke quietly to him, “Wade, would you relax?” she turned back to Nathan, “Nope, we haven’t seen your gun Cable, you sure you didn’t leave it back in the weaponry when you were cleaning it the other day?” she asked in a convincing innocence.

  “Yeah I guess so, I’ll check again,” he rubbed his head and frowned thinking it over in his head; Wade took the opportunity to run out the door leading to the nearby woods outside.

“SHIT FUCK, SHIT FUCK, SHIT FUCK, SHIT FUCK,”

“What’s the tool’s problem now?” Nathan frowned.

“I think the only two brain cells he had left just killed themselves,” she shook her head, Nathan chuckled.

“I’ll see you around,” he nodded before he left the room.

  She ran out in the direction that Wade had gone to, debris from destroyed trees lay all around the area, in the centre of it all he was crouching on the ground with pieces of Nathan’s gun in panic as he picked up one not knowing how he was going to fix it.

“God, what took you so long?”

“I would have been with you sooner had you not run off like a complete shithead, I had to explain your weirdness because he was asking, I didn’t want him to get suspicious.”

“Okay, fine. Now help me put this fucking shit back together before Cable-”

                         “Before Cable what?” his rough voice came from nearby.

“Fuck me,” Wade said in a shrill voice.

“He just might. And what are you so worried for anyways? You’ve got regenerative healing moron,”

“That just means Cable can fuck me over as many times as he likes,”

“I did tell you not to play with it,” she said in a matter of fact tone.

“What in the actual fuck?” Nathan stopped just a few feet before the scene. “Not only did you lie, but you also broke my gun?” he clenched his jaw, his cyborg eye began to glow.

“Cable, please don’t hurt me,” he choked out.

“Oh I’m way passed hurting you,” he cracked his knuckles on both hands and twisted his head to let his neck click. “I made that gun myself and you played with it like it was some toy? You’re fucking dead.”

  “Haydes? Can I get a little help, please?” Wade nervously gulped and looked over his shoulder; she paid him no attention as she crouched on the ground.

“Reap what you sow bitch,” she commented as she raked through the leaves and put some smaller pieces of the gun together.

“Oh this is going to be very fun,” Nathan pounded his fist into his other hand and a wicked smile spread across his face.

“Spoiler alert: no faces will be pounded on today,” Hayden spoke up and Nathan turned to look at her in confusion. She stood up and handed him his gun fully intact.

“How did you?” he faltered, staring at the gun in his hands.

“Go ahead and fire it, I made it better than it was before it was broken,” she said confidently.

  Nathan lifted the gun and aimed it at Wade, it was set on a lower setting and he fired the blast, it sent Wade flying backwards into a faraway tree.

“Ow, my ass!” Wade yelled and Hayden giggled.

“It’s even better than before, how did you-” he looked at the gun, “How did you manage to ease the recoil so much?”

She shrugged, “It wasn’t that difficult, it’s a fairly basic weapon that you made with what you could get your hands on. So now you can’t pound Wade into the ground, otherwise I’ll come for you myself, I think breaking his ass on that tree is punishment enough.” She nodded to Wade.

Nathan stared at her in awe as she made her way over to Wade and helped him up, he said something to her that made her eyes roll and then she scooped him up bridal style, he nuzzled his face under her chin. She walked passed Nathan and Wade wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Love you sis,”

“Yeah whatever idiot,” she sighed as she carried Wade towards the mansion.

________________________________________________________________

>> Chapter 16 <<

[my-last-words07]

The Storm

If y’all know me, you know that I work at a summer camp, and this year I came back early because of a huge storm that shut down my camp. I’ve tried and tried to write about it, but understandably, It’s hard to recover from something of that magnitude. Y’all may understand more if I ever manage to write it. But here’s a try.

July 19, 2019, it was the night of the closing campfire. We were in the Dining Hall, thank God, because we knew a storm was coming. About halfway through some skits, the power went out. A few minutes later, part of the roof broke and let in some water. No big deal, in the grand scheme of things.

After skits and stories, we learned about a small extent of the damage, through whispers and messages. An office staff stood up in front of everyone and said, “We’re still checking the damage, so everyone will be here a little bit longer.”

True heroes of the night were my friend Stark, who told a story for almost an hour, to keep everyone distracted. All of the staff that passed out cups and carried water pitchers so everyone could be hydrated. The office staff, that were responsible for keeping everyone safe and calm inside the hall. The staff that stood up and lead songs to keep campers entertained.

An hour later, the camp director stood up, and that’s how you know shit is real. He said, “I need everyone’s attention. Because of the damage, we’ve decided that everyone is going to spend the night in the Dining Hall. It’s too dangerous to leave now.”

Some people, like myself, were a little more anxious at that news. True hero was the camp director, that led me and a friend to the office to stay alone and calm down.

Once he got us to the office, he leveled with us. He said, “Everyone is safe, and that’s the important part. The way I see it, there’ll be a few work days, and then... Everyone will be sent home. We can’t open camp like this.”

That was the straw that broke my back. Camp is where most of my friends are. If we’re not at camp, I live several states away from most of them. So the news that I’d be leaving them... After you hear everyone is safe, it’s okay to be upset about the selfish things.

So me and another close friend were in the office, arms around each other, holding hands, crying at the news, trying to calm ourselves down, trying to feel any semblance of okay. Spoiler alert, we didn’t succeed.

There was a quick meeting for the director to fill us all in, and he asked for volunteers to stay up all night to watch the Scouts. I remember the pride I felt, and the pride our director showed, when every single hand went up to volunteer to help, in any way that they could. The real heroes were the staff that were willing to give up sleep, in the middle of this disaster, to watch over the campers and keep them safe.

Myself and a few other friends fell asleep in the office. One person prepped his drone, because he’d volunteered to use it to take pictures, and assess the damage.

We woke up four hours after we’d fallen asleep, at 5:30 am, and started to do whatever we could. Some of us went down to the firebowl, where we saw the boat coming from the camp on the other side of the lake. They pulled up, the boat half full of lake water, and said, “Can we get a bucket line going? We’re out of running water.”

Some staff hauled and ferried water all morning, without even stopping for breakfast. 

Myself and two other people, Stark and Skylar served breakfast. We didn’t know just how much food we had, or if there’d be enough of it, but we knew we needed to feed these kids. So, for 45 minutes we sat in line, serving cinnamon rolls, bagels, and milk to 200+ people, some of which wanted answers that we didn’t have. 

Partway through serving, a staff member comes up behind us. “Spread the word, the showerhouse is closed. We’re out of running water.”

Imagine, if you will, standing in line, trying to feed hundreds of people. You’re dead tired, you’re trying to look happy but failing, and everyone knows that this is an emergency situation.

Then it gets worse. You have 200+ people, and no more water. And you can’t do anything except keep serving your burnt cinnamon rolls and frozen bagels. Imagine the terror. I don’t have to imagine it, I was there. We all kept serving, and kept calm. True heroes are the ones that worked twice as hard so no one else had to work or worry.

I found out later that a few younger staff had been helping run the ferry, getting people to the other side of the lake so that they could drive out. Fourteen and fifteen year olds had been so quick to volunteer that not many others had realized. They worked tirelessly for hours, and when the ferry stopped for the day, they walked a mile back to main camp and worked some more. They’re the real heroes.

I played almost 3 hours of Mau with some friends to keep campers entertained. Mau is the worst card game in the universe, if you didn’t know. Quite a few of us, on a few hours of sleep, elected to stay awake longer to make sure campers had fun. You already know what I’ll say about that.

That night we got all of the campers out of camp, and some roads started to clear. We couldn’t do anything else, except wait. Pack up camp. People worked tirelessly wherever they were needed to make sure camp got properly packed up. No one sat idle. That very night, someone drove up with cases upon cases of water for us. People heard about our plight and, without a second thought, packed their cars and asked to help. Disaster really brings out the best in people.

And then on Monday, after a few days of the worst possible things happening, we went home.

All of us went home. Just one week ago, I said goodbye to my home that had been destroyed, and my friends that I so sorely needed during this time... And I drove back to Michigan. While this was the worst experience I’ve ever had in my life, let’s concentrate on the people that I’ve been pointing out through this whole post.

The true heroes. Stark, who distracted people with her story for almost an hour, to keep everyone calm. The staff members that led songs, and played games. Nate, who lent his drone to the cause. The office staff that had to deal with keeping everyone safe. All of the people that volunteered to stay up all night, everyone that stayed out all day with chainsaws, clearing our trails. The people that served food, and brought us water and ran the ferry, and kept everyone safe and calm.

This was the worst experience of my life, but that’s not what I can concentrate on. I have to concentrate on the heroes that shone through, and did everything in their power to keep people safe and calm, and get us out safely and quickly. That’s what you have to pay attention to in these trying times.