#Which could come back at any time ESPECIALLY IF I'M SLEEP DEPRIVED

[anyydidi]

WRITING THIS POST BECAUSE I'M SO SICK OF PEOPLE MISCHARACTERIZING FORD!!!!!!!!!

Before we begin, everyone is entitled to their opinion. If you really think Ford wouldn't truly care, you do you.

That being said, I feel like people who claim that Ford wouldn't do a single thing to bring Stan back if their places were switched do not understand his character at all.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that he would open the portal. At least not right away. The one thing I agree with is that Ford wouldn't put the life of his brother above the whole planet like Stan did. He realizes the threat of the portal and Bill too much to do that.

But have people forgotten that Ford also loves his brother? Yeah, he was angry, bitter and resentful, but he wouldn't have just let Stan die in the multiverse. Especially since that would be entirely his fault he got stuck there in the first place.

For people thinking, "But Ford was too blinded by rage! He didn't care for Stan until after Weirdmaggedon!", have you seen the show? Have you read the journal? Through everything that happened, Ford kept a photo (tattered and worn, obviously taken out a lot) of him and his brother in his left, inner breast pocket which is the one closest to the heart. If that wasn't enough, for those who haven't read the journal, Ford kept reminiscing about and mentioning his brother before the portal incident. Even though those lines were often crossed out, it was obvious that at least unconsiously he had Stan in mind a lot. And at the end of the journal, it is written that he worked day and night, to the point of passing out, to bring Stan's memories (and essencially Stan himself) back. (Oh and have we forgotten about the absolutely shattered expression he had when he erased Stan's memories? You don't look like that for a person you don't deeply care about).

Still not enough to believe that Ford cared about Stan before Stan's sacrifice?

Let's talk about the fact that when Ford was at his lowest, that being paranoid, sleep deprived, tortured by Bill, drowned in guilt, and completely alone, he reached out to Stan? He says it himself, "I needed help, someone I could trust." After everything, he still trusted Stan to an extent and believed him to be his last hope. You don't give trust like that to people you truly hate.

Ford was self-absorbed and egocentric, but also hurt and betrayed. That feeling came from a misconception, but that doesn't make it any less valid. It is understandable that he acted towards Stan the way he did, with venom and bitterness. But we can be angry at people we love and still care for their well-being.

How I said earlier, I don't think Ford would really open the portal. He wouldn't risk the entire world for Stanley. But I do think he would do anything in his power to be able to bring Stan back safely. You cannot be telling me that he'd be able to live with the guilt and not do anything about it if he could. After all, in his head, it would be his fault. He got tricked by Bill, he built the portal, he made Stan come to him and showed him the portal and he wasn't able to let go of the journal and fought Stan for it. I'm convinced he'd still throw some blame at Stan for some of the fight to make himself feel better at first, but after some time he would just blame himself completely (the same way I think Stan did with the science fair incident). The guilt for all of that would eat him alive.

Let's not forget, Stanley worked for 30 years, basically half his life to bring Stanford home and I believe Ford would be willing to do the same. He would just go about it differently. He would either try to get rid of the threat of Bill and then be willing to upgrade the portal and turn it on again, or maybe try to find a completely different way to get Stan back from the multiverse, or in the end something entirely different, I'm not fully sure.

What I am sure of is that Ford wouldn't just let Stan be stranded in the multiverse without doing absolutely nothing. Maybe he wouldn't succeed, maybe Stan would actually have to find his own way back home because Stanford wouldn't be able to find a solution without risking their entire universe. But Ford would at least try, give it his all, because despite everything, he still loves his brother. Differently than Stan loves him, because Ford is a different person than Stan, but he still does.

So I beg you, people. Stop taking Ford's complex character from him. He can be a selfish, self-centered asshole, but he's not heartless.

[witchthewriter]

𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐖𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐔𝐩 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐂𝐎𝐃 𝐌𝐚𝐧

⤷ gender neutral and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒆

・The only time you are ever awake before John, is the morning after he's come back from deployment.

・You let him sleep for as long as possible, as much as you want to wake him and be his complete centre of attention, you don't.

・He looks too peaceful

・And younger; the worry lines are erased from his face, the stress completely dissolved

・You want to kiss him, nibble his ear, nuzzle his neck. Which you do eventually do, however, you wait for him to rouse himself from sleep

・When he looks at the clock, his eyes go wide

"Why didn't you wake me love?"

"Because you needed the sleep!"

"Well, know that I'd rather be sleep-deprived and with you, then asleep. So next time, please wake me."

𝑺𝒊𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑹𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒚

・Much like his Captain, Simon is always awake before you. Even the morning of his deployment. He doesn't even sleep when he gets back home.

・Just sits on the back porch, mug of tea in his hands and Riley at his feet.

・But when he's been sick, that's when you get the jump on him (no babe not literally)

・He's grouchy and moody. Sure that he's fine and doesn't need help.

・But the downside of looking after him, is that he doesn't want you to catch whatever he has. So no kissing. No cuddling.

・Well, his rules hold up for an hour, before your puppy dog eyes wear him down.

"Fine. C'mere love."

𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏𝒏𝒚 𝑴𝒂𝒄𝑻𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒉

・Ooh this man loves sleeping him.

・You cannot get this man up before 8 AM when he's off deployment (which may seem still early to some but for a soldier - it is a HUGE sleep in)

・Mumbles in his sleep too, so you can just lay there and hear a random story from your unconscious boyfriend

"And then his mask was actually ... just his face," he said with enthusiasm. Eyes closed, than back to snoring.

・It freaked you out at first. But now it's absolutely entertaining. Sometimes you take videos of him and send them to Simon, who always loves receiving them.

・In the morning, you like to snuggle close to Johnny. Your nose touching his. Eyelashes fluttering against his naturally dark ones.

・You love staring at him. You could do it for hours...except, he's start to notice.

"Oi, ye know starin' is considered creepy-"

𝑲𝒚𝒍𝒆 𝑮𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒊𝒄𝒌

・Does love a good sleep in

・Especially with you in his arms, his face in the crook of your neck.

・When you feel a stir behind you, you're sure to grab the arm closest to you and secure it around you

・You hear a laugh behind you, but no resistance

"Thought you were asleep love."

"Hmm, thought you were too. Now scoot closer, you're letting the cold in."

・Luckily he can't see him rolling his eyes. Although, there is a small smirk on his lips

"Whatever you say, my darling."

"Watch your tone, Garrick."

𝑲𝒐̈𝒏𝒊𝒈

・Loves kisses, especially on his shoulders. It makes him giddy inside.

・Sometimes he'll just pretend to be asleep so you can wake him up with kisses

・Other times, he can't stay in bed. He needs to pee.

・And as much as he wants to be quiet, he cannot. Whenever he wakes up, ultimately you wake up as well.

・Your personal heater is gone and you feel the chill near instantly

"Oh, es tut mir leid, Schatz, geh wieder ins Bett" (Oh, I'm sorry honey, go back to bed)

"No, I'll just have a tea and sit on the lounge. Will you join me?"

𝑨𝒍𝒆𝒋𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒐 𝑽𝒂𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒔

・Surprisingly, he's one to always be awake before you.

・Giving you a kiss before going downstairs to start on breakfast for the two of you.

・It's annoying when you do want to wake up before him, to take on the chores that he usually does.

・You even set an alarm underneath your pillow so that you could wake up before him.

・But you slept through the first alarm and he was the one to turn it off.

・Yet, whenever you do wake up, you immediately throw back the blankets and run downstairs to jump in his arms.

"Mi amor, what are you doing up?"

"I wanted to be close to you! I missed you."

"Aw, Calientas mi corazon querida" (You warm my heart, darling)

𝑲𝒆𝒆𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝑹𝒖𝒔𝒔

・Likes sleeping in but can't unless you're with him

・So you usually just flip over and land on top of him, knowing he was in the process of waking up anyway

"You comfortable there, kid?"

・His voice groggy and deep, a hand snaking it's way around your waist to keep you still

"The most comfortable," you said, scrunching your nose and giving him a peck on the mouth

"You comfortable?" You said sweetly, making sure to keep all your weight directly upon him.

"Incredibly," he said with a slight wheeze. But he didn't move, nor made a thought to. He loved the feeling of you so close.

・Knowing that he made it home again. To you.

[honeygrahambitch]

(two weeks post-fall)

Will woke up from what many would not call "sleep". He was getting sick and the fever was not making it easy for him to rest. That was especially at night when he would wake up every two hours until the sun would rise and he would fully abandon sleep.

He was trying to hide that from Hannibal. They hardly had any medication and he didn't want to use their resources on himself. Not when Hannibal had been in a worse shape than him after the fall.

Besides, he was used to being feverish. He could handle it. He kept replaying those thoughts in his head as he pulled his blanket over his shoulders trying to ignore how cold he was feeling.

What drew his attention from that was a certain smell. Something he hadn't felt in what felt like ages.

He had a look at his phone. It was past midnight. Was he hallucinating the smell then? The unique flavor that any human being could recognize?

With the blanket on his shoulders, he left his bed and then his room. In the little kitchen of the cabin, Hannibal was pouring something liquid in a pan on the stove.

"You making pancakes?"

"Crepes."

Will nodded. Of course.

"I didn't mean to wake you up." Hannibal said as he flipped the crepe swiftly without any effort.

"I was awake." Will said as he sat down at the table and pulled the blanket tighter, which Hannibal didn't miss. It was not a cold night. "I didn't think of you to be the type to get midnight cravings."

"Only at times. I did debate whether I should use our few resources on a personal craving."

"Not so personal, I can never refuse panca- crepes." Will corrected himself. "You appetite coming back is a good sign."

"Yes but your fever is not."

"Fever? I'm fine." Will said as their eyes locked. "It's nothing."

"You are aware we do have aspirin, aren't you?" Hannibal asked as he placed a perfectly folded crepe on a plate in front of Will. It would have been amazing if he hadn't had to fill it with jelly. Store-bought jelly. But it was the least he could do with what they had. At least he was sure Will wouldn't mind it.

"I am, yes." He said as he lifted the crepe and put it back in the plate quickly, as soon as it burnt his fingers. "I just want to make sure you are fully recovered. Maybe you'll need it."

"It's enough for me as well. You should certainly not deprive yourself of medication at my cost."

"You didn't left your bed at all last week. Your state was critical, Hannibal. I just got a little fever."

"Thank you for your concern." He said as he realized contradicting Will was of no use. He flipped another crepe. "But you will be as useless as I was if your cold progresses. If we have to change our location again, your condition will only worsen."

He knew he had to approach the subject from an utilitarian perspective, since Will put more price on resourcefulness than on his affective concern.

"If I promise to take an aspirin, will you let me enjoy my crepe?" He asked defeated, even though he was trying to hide his own amusement.

"Yes. And I apologize for the jelly. It's less than adequate than what I normally use."

"It's perfect." Will said as he was devouring his crepe. "I promise to find you a house with a fully equipped kitchen. With a fully equipped fridge."

It was not much, but it was coming from Will.

A promise.

A promise to give Hannibal something he had been deprived of in the last few years in Chilton's hospital.

For now, eating crepes filled with jelly at midnight, in a wooden cabin would do.

[rainebelowzero]

kurt kunkle x amab!reader 

notes- hopefully this isn't too bad, I'm incredibly sleep deprived. If there are any spelling errors just message me. I don't use any specific pronouns, but I wrote this with a male reader in mind.

cws: overstimulation, choking, aftercare  

Kurt whined from underneath you. His hair was a mess, his eyes screwed shut and one of his hands held yours while the other gripped the bed sheets under him. You had a tight hold on his waist, pulling his hips to meet yours as you thrust into him roughly. 

He looked amazing. His stomach covered in cum from his previous two orgasms and his legs shaking each time your cock slammed into him. Kurt let out a loud, shaky moan. He had no idea what his sounds did to you, especially when he looked as ruined as he did now.

Soon, his moans turned into high pitched whines. He shuddered at how hard you were gripping his hips, hoping it was hard enough to leave bruises for him to see the next day. Kurt's legs closed tightly around your waist. You give him a slight look of confusion when he brings one of your hands up to his neck, but then it clicks. You wrap your hand around his neck gently, making him groan when you give it a quick squeeze. 

"Harder..p-please…" He looks up at you. You could never deny him, not with those beautiful pleading eyes of his, so you give him what he wants. Squeezing your hand tightly around his throat, you speed up the pace of your thrusts. Kurt's eyes roll back as he bites his bottom lip.

It's a sight that brings you closer to your own orgasm, using your other hand to tighten your hold on his waist, digging your nails into his skin. Kurt's hips rock against yours, and he chokes out a loud moan as he cums again. He chants your name, over and over and the way he clamps down on your dick sends you right over the edge with him. 

Your thrusts were slowing down and less coordinated as you filled him to the brim with your seed. After coming down from the high, you pull out gently, watching your cum slowly drip out of his used hole. 

Eventually, you bring yourself face to face with Kurt. 

"You okay?" You say. He opens his eyes halfway, smiling weakly and giving you a small nod. 

You lean forward, giving him a kiss on his lips before kissing all over his face, making him giggle. You try to get up, but Kurt's arms wrap around your neck, trying to pull you down. 

"Stay here." He says, his voice muffled by your shoulder which he was hiding his face on. You were only going to get a towel and maybe some water, but you decide to lay down next to him, wrapping your own arms around him. 

The two of you fall asleep in the comfort of each other.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 15: Emily's Last Meal

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: captivity, mind control, covert brainwashing, Emily POV

Emily spent the entire afternoon curled up in a ball on her cot, wishing there were anything she could do to take her mind off of her situation. She'd like to go to sleep, even though the lights were still on, but sleep wasn't coming.

Lily had taken Oliver again, which meant the next time she saw him he'd most likely be glassy eyed and spouting pro-vampire nonsense, robbing her of the only person in the place she could at least hold a conversation with. 

Even though he was a victim as much as she was, she wasn't especially inclined to feel charitable towards him right now. She had hardly slept a wink since she'd been dragged into these cells, and the sleep deprivation had been making her especially irritable, a raw nerve that kept being poked. And last night had been the worst night at all, because Oliver had spent the entire lights-out period chanting hypnotic mantras, loud enough for Emily to hear. There had been a steady drone of "obedience is pleasure" and "no desire to resist" the entire night with only brief respites. Not only was it disruptive, but Emily had actively fought sleep, not wanting to fall asleep with hypnotic chanting softening her mind.

The vampire guards who were so quick to crack down on unwanted noises did nothing about this, of course. Emily suspected that Lily had engineered this to take down both her and Oliver at once, a two-for-one special.

It wasn't Oliver's fault, and she knew that. Her annoyance should be directed towards Lily and their vampire captors, and it mostly was. But she still very much wasn't in the mood to speak to him when Oliver returned, completely unguarded, wearing a simple white kind of frock dress and looking quite serene.

"What are you wearing, Oliver?" 

"Miss Lily gave me these clothes and let me shower," he explained. He was standing in front of her cell and none of the vampires seemed to care.

A lost cause, she thought, and hated herself for thinking so.

"And she told me to tell you that she'll be inducing you very soon."

Emily felt her mouth go dry, a cold pit of fear in her stomach. Of course, she expected this. She'd known what was coming. That didn't make it any easier.

"I know you're scared of it, Emily, but it's really not that bad," said Oliver in a tone that was probably meant to be reassuring. "She didn't take my mind that much at all. I still feel like myself, I just don't have any desire to escape, and I want to obey whatever the vampires tell me to do. That's not that bad, right?"

Oh, Oliver was such a lost cause. And she was next in line.

"Are you listening to yourself? You think that wanting to obey the vampires, the vampires who kidnapped us and are holding us in prison to sell -- you think that's okay?"

Something briefly flashed in Oliver's eyes, a spark of life. "I think it's... I think it's our reality," he said. "And if we have to be here... is it so bad if they make us want to obey? It's easier, and will help us survive. That makes sense, right?"

"I don't really care what makes sense," she said. "I don't want to be a slave. I don't want a vampire erasing my free will. I don't want some monster feeding off of me -- or did they make you forget that they were going to do that, too?"

"I didn't," he said. "You're probably not going to believe me, but Miss Lily showed me a little of what it would be like, and it wasn't nearly as bad as I had imagined. I'm not sure how to explain it without sounding crazy, though."

"It sounds crazy because it is crazy. Because you're totally under their spell now. What about your bookshop? Your former life?"

Oliver's calm facade broke a bit as he looked down at his feet. "...I'm not getting those back, I don't think," he said. "I... um. Perhaps this is an awkward question, but how hypnotized am I, actually? I feel fine, but..."

"I think Lily's gotten so far in your head that you can't even tell how much any more. I'm sorry."

"...I suspected that might be the case."

"Do you want me to try and snap you out of it?"

"No. I have no desire to resist," he said, automatically.

Oh, this poor man.

She should save him. She should try to wake him up again. But she was exhausted, and knew how futile it would be. Even if she could make a dent in Lily's influence, she'd only just take him again. He was no doubt going to keep her up again all night with chanted mantras.

She felt selfish, heartless, but she'd been running her whole life. Running from her family, from her awful, alcohol soaked father, from abusive lovers, from poverty. And now it might actually be the end of the line, and she was so, so tired, and Oliver was so obviously a lost cause.

They both were. She was going to die down here in everything but the technical sense, giving her life for a vampire's pleasure. Few would miss her or even notice she was gone.

"They're bringing dinner now, Emily. I'd better get back in my cell," Oliver said. "And... I'm sorry that I can't help you. I really am."

"I'm sorry, too, Oliver."

Dinner arrived, and it was a heaping plate of roast turkey and gravy with mashed potatoes, peas, and a slice of apple pie, of all things. Imagine apple pie baked and served by vampires! It smelled heavenly and it was the largest meal they'd served yet. She couldn't help but be suspicious. 

She knew that no matter how suspicious she was, she'd cave and eat it in a few minutes at most. She'd been hungry enough in her life that she couldn't bear not to eat hot, fresh food when it was right in front of her face, especially since it hadn't been drugged or poisoned up until now. She hated herself for how eagerly she ate the vampires' prison food, cleaning her plate every time, and that it was the best fed she'd been in ages. 

This was no exception, the kind of meal she dreamed about on nights when she'd had to content herself with half a can of beans or a single mashed potato. At least if this was her last meal as herself, it was a decent one.

The lights snapped off, and she'd barely had enough time to brace herself before Oliver started up the mantras again. "Obedience is pleasure," he said, in a thick, drowsy voice. "No desire to resist. Too tired to resist. Hopeless to resist..."

Emily furrowed her brow. That seemed directly pointed at her. Lily was trying to wear her down, she just knew it. Whatever she did, she couldn't sleep tonight, couldn't let those thoughts be drilled into her brain.

She sat, and stared into the pitch black gloom, and tried to think of anything, anything at all. Old friends. New paints. A pint of cheap beer. Fall leaves. The view from the Oak Street Bridge. 

Too tired to resist...

She was never getting out of here, was she?

She was so sleep deprived, and her stomach was comfortably full, and the cells were always kept warm...

She didn't realize it when her head began to nod, her thoughts swirling into nightmares of a vampire pinning her down and drinking from her neck, draining her energy and life, all the while Oliver's voice droned on about obedience.

And she didn't, at first, realize it when Oliver's droning voice mixed with Lily's.

"Obedience is pleasure. You're too tired to resist, Emily, much too tired," said a calm and soothing voice close by.

Emily stirred. She wasn't in her bed. She was being... held? Carried. 

"Shhh, Emily, relax. Go back to sleep. You're so tired," said Lily. "And you're already under my spell. There's nothing to fight. Go back to sleep."

A nightmare? It had to be. "I'm not..." she protested, trying to wake up. Why was it so hard? She cracked her eyelids open. Lily was looking down at her while carrying her in her arms.

"Of course you are, dear. Even the most defiant human must sleep, and even the most defiant human mind is vulnerable while sleeping," she said, as though explaining to a child. "Sleep now, go back to sleep. You're too tired to resist."

This couldn't be happening. This couldn't be happening now. She felt herself slipping back into slumber against her will, clawing her consciousness back from the brink.

"You're not going to have me," she said, fighting the haze that threatened to swallow her.

"Oh, pet, I've subdued a hundred girls like you and I'll subdue a hundred more after," she said. "Now hush, and go back to sleep."

Part Fourteen >> Masterlist >> Part Sixteen

Thank you for reading this story about Emily.

Tag list - please note if you'd like to be added

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps

[quotidian-oblivion]

Wouldst THou be okay with questions???

What’s your favourite thing to do at 2am (follow up question, fic recs??????)

Love

'Course! I has puts blanket permission it on le pinned post.

Read/write fics. Unquestionably. And eat junk food (like ferrero rochers *cough cough*). If i was alone in the house at 2 am, i would probably be singing out as loud as i could.

But *sigh* I end up doing schoolwork half the time. The other half I'm laying in my bed, and sleep-deprived me takes over and magically produces a fic and its outline leaving daytime-me to write it out and expand on it.

Fic recs... hmmm... Lemme go visit my bookmarks and link the links here.

Okay, so Repletion by sardnoic-sprite is rlly good. Actually lol, im providing analyzations + some minor info and ideas on the 2.0 version of the fic to sprite rn. In this one, Uncle Edward does exist and is a certified asshole and abuser. He tries to control Tim and keep him away from the Bats and threatens to hurt Tim real bad if the Bats try to contact him.

Zugzwang by sardonic sprite is rlly good too! Very hurty. Much angst. Ra's captures the batfam and challenges Tim to a game of chess. Each move is dangerous. A small mistake puts any of the Bats at risk. And Tim has to predict which batfam member will get hurt depending on which chess piece he moves.

And the whole series of Celebrity Batwaynes by sardonic-sprite is rlly good too! It had me cracking up so much. But ofc there's angst there too, but mostly crack and i adore this series with my life. It's about the Gotham vigilantes, some rogues, and the Waynes doing internet challenges like Buzzfeed quizzes and other stuff too.

My Mummy Has Tattoos by I_is_a_fangirl_yee is v v angsty. And yes, im being prejudiced rn but what im not being prejudiced abt is the fact that i screamed out loud in class while beta-ing this fic.

Now, The Dream Of Flight by A_Canceled_Stamp is an excellent fic I will never stop yakking about. The plot is literally just Tim falling off a building. But the writing? The emotions captured within the writing, the pure act of storytelling through actions described by text is something out-of-the-world.

I adore Instead Of All The Colors I Saw by SilverSkiesAtMidnight. It deals with Tim dealing with the aftermath of Titans Tower and his relationship with Jason and oof- the angsty dialogue is PEAK.

All of Vamillepudding's works. Well, at least the Batman ones, those are the only ones i've read. But they are all. Just. So. Good. The writing and oh- the ideas especially. Definitely some of the greatest Tim joins the batfam early fics to ever have existed.

Living Dead Boy by Terranphuem. *SCREAMS*. This fic. Let me tell you, this fic. It reached into my heart, grabbed it and teared it out then bandaged it and put it back in again. It's about Tim encountering Jason from when he just rose from the grave. And Jason's catatonic and everything and Tim helps him all by himself (with special help a little later) to make him "good enough" to return back to Bruce. SUCH A GOOD READ ISTG.

untitled titan's tower fic #89268439 by Ashynarr. It's, as the title says, a TT fic, but in this one, Jason finds Tim's old fanfiction account and tortures him by rereading some stuff from there to Tim XD Doesnt get the attention it deserves imo.

come back home please by PurpleHeartsOne. Gosh, the writing in this one... it is Up There with the Greats. I love how the emotions is captured so well here and also how smoothly the progression of chapters goes! The character development and- oh! The character reveal! Ahhhhh! Please do mind, it is still incomplete 8/10 chapters rn.

sipping the piping hot tea by BlueTee. In this one, Tim sips tea and destroys Jason instead of Titans Tower happening. Gosh, i loved the nonverbal reactions so much 😂

Conference Room 2B by motelyfam. It's part of a series, but it's so good, it deserves its own special appearance. Big bro Jason Todd! And theater kid Jason Todd! They're both in here!!

of crime lords and literature by adelfie. Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh! The writing! The fucking- *slams table* THE WRITING!! It's a TT AU where Tim asks help from Jason for English h.w. There's more obviously, but that's where the plot starts. It is. so good.

don't drop the baby (i'm the baby) by Ms_Trickster. I will never ever ever shut up about this. I read this twice and both times I teared up. Both times. This fic means a lot to me on a personal level. Basically, Tim accidentally time-travels and meets a baby version of himself.

Late Night encounters by paperxcrowns. Oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh oh gosh! I adore this fic! Not only is the writing especially good, but the story line, the slow and smooth and excellent progression of events and character! Ahhhh! It's about Tim meeting Jason accidentally at a cafe and him somehow accidentally helping Tim with his homework and becoming friends.

just be there by TaraLaurel is so so good. I wrote a fic inspired by it (it's Shiver btw, the title of the inspired fic). Heck, I love all the batfam fics written by them (I haven't read the other fandom fics). This one is touch-starved tim drake and who doesn't love touch-starved tim drake! But more particularly, the writing. The fucking- writing. I'm like, the person who reads fanfics, but the ones with good fucking writing become my favorite cuz then i can kinda read it again and learn from it yk? It's like, looking up to people. And I look up to this author. How they describe emotions through nonverbal actions and verbal actions and subtle actions but also the inner monologue as well. Love it all.

Lastly, I've been saving this for the end. Rebel Without A Clause by DangerBeckett. This fic covers topics like classism and has Deep Stuff in it which is so so fun to read! I started commenting from the third chapter. Then by the fifth chapter, my two-sentence comments turned to two-page comments. As did with so many other commenters. I love the author and their writing. It is truly top tier. I love the character development going on too and the retrospection of topics and events through fiction and fandom. Truly excellent. Honestly. I can go on and on. And I have! It's about Tim meeting the batfam through galas and slowly getting adopted by them. It's in-progress still.

Those were too many fics probably lol. But I kept going through my bookmarks like "Oh! I forgot about that one! It was so fun". Happy reading! Thanks for the ask! ^^

[delusioncorner]

Knock at the Window

(Spider-Man x Reader)(T)

Whilst studying for a big final exam, you hear a knock coming from your bedroom window...which is weird because you live on the 5th floor of an apartment building. Who on earth could that be?

(This is kind of long and maybe a bit shit but I wrote it because I lowkey miss school)

-

The words begin to blur for the seventh time since I've started the tedious- and albeit very stupid- task of pulling an all-nighter for the exam I have tomorrow morning at exactly 7:30 in the morning. Hard, heavy blinks start to plague my eyes and I thought very briefly that I was going to lose this battle that I was fighting with my sleep. I sigh and close my eyes tight, taking deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

When I open my eyes again I look towards the clock hanging on my wall and feel a sense of dread crawl up my spine. 3:45am. Another sigh escapes my lips and my heart begins to race. It's almost 4 in the morning, my exam- that my entire career depends on- is in 3 and a half hours, and I've barely read through half the notes I've taken in preparation for this goddamned test. My eyes start to well with tears and a sense of helplessness fills me rapidly. I've just been so busy the past couple of days with work, school, and my internship at Alchemex. Everything I do combines into one long event that starts at 6am and ends at about 9pm and the times I do have a small break I spend it with Peter. I know I should be focusing on my studies especially with the end of the year staring me right in the face and the promise of grad school welcoming me with its new and exciting embrace but I can't help it.

Peter Parker is in the Bio-Chemistry class I'm taking this semester- the class that I'm attempting to study for at the moment. He's one of the smartest people I've ever met and the depth in which he understands such complex theories will always astound me. I could have been studying with Peter and I honestly should have since he is quite the talented student but I can't focus on anything but him when he's around. It's quite the hopeless predicament I've found myself in. I'd like to think he shares the same feelings for me as I do him but every time I think something is about to happen between us he has to leave. It's happened too often for it to be a coincidence.

Today was a perfect example of that very thing happening. Peter and I were walking through the campus courtyard from our shared class, side-by-side, our hands brushing as we admired the cherry blossoms with their maroon-colored leaves. We talked aimlessly for what seemed like hours but were in reality only a few minutes before we reached the the grand fountain located in the middle of the school. We sat there and spoke, getting closer to one another as the minutes passed, until our hands overlapped. He said something that made me laugh and after I had settled our eyes locked and I felt my upper body leaning toward him like we were magnets, destined to connect. I looked at him through my lashes and tilted my head. I needed to feel his lips against mine. I needed us to feel one another. I needed him to need me just as much as I needed him. Just as our lips almost met...his phone went off and he was gone, running away frantically almost like he was awakened from a trance. I had no choice but to watch him leave.

I texted him before I started my slow descent into madness and I've still yet to receive a text back. I feel sick to my stomach. Recounting that memory combined with my sleep deprivation has turned my stomach in a way I hadn't been expecting. Standing, I carefully stretch and drink a bit of water because I am not about to throw up at- I glance over at the clock again- 4 in the morning.

Great. I managed to kill 15 minutes drooling over Peter. Could I get any more paths-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

I still. Was it my door? It couldn't be. My roommates are all sleeping. Walking over to my door, I open it anyway. Greeted with nothing, I turn to retreat into my room and before I get the chance to close my door I hear another sound.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

The tapping transitioned into harder, heavier knocks. They sound frantic. I know it's not my door this time so I turn to my window. My curtain-shrouded, no-fire-escape-having, 5th-story window.

"Dude, there's literally no way that knocking is coming from my window right now."

A gruff, strained, and slightly muffled voice comes from right outside the window. "Please. Please open the window." It's a man. I hesitate briefly but decide that if someone is truly outside my window right now, then it must be someone...interesting and I've always been a curious person. I close my door and saunter towards my window. Dread is filling me once again but I punch it down. I'll just take a small peek and if it's like the Green Goblin or some other nefarious ne'er-do-weller then I'll simply accept my fate and die.

...Yeah. Yeah, that's what my options are. I either die or...some other second option. Hopefully, option number two is better than death. So, which will it be?'

I reach the window and slightly move the curtain to reveal Spider-Man. The Spider-Man. Even though I couldn't see his entire body I saw enough. I saw his bright red and blue suit. I saw one of his gloved hands and I saw a sliver of his other hand clutching his side. His back was against the wall of my building, almost as if he were glued to it. Spider-Man is a good man. He helps the city and he totally fought some giant dude dressed as a rhinoceros last week who threatened to do something dastardly to the town so I think I would be okay if I let him in. Plus, it seems like he's injured and I'm not a monster. I glance at the clock once more- it reads 4:10- before I rip open my window.

As quickly as I open the window, Spider-Man is through it, and closing the window behind him with just as much speed, then he slunks against my wall in a boneless heap. His breaths are heavy and small helpless whines escape his mask-shrouded lips. I tell him that I'll be back and swiftly leave my room, closing the door behind me, and running down the hallway to the bathroom to grab the first aid kit. When I return, Spider-Man is away from the window and slumped over in my desk chair.

"Thanks for letting me in. Also sorry for getting blood on your rug maybe? I don't know actually, I didn't really pay attention." He's rambling. He's distracting himself from the pain, I can tell. He continues, "You really just went right to work, didn't you? No 'Hi' or 'Woah! Spider-Man? What a silly thing that's happening right now,' you just up and got a...first aid kit? Thanks but I'm okay. It's just a flesh wound."

"You're bleeding a lot. One could even use the word profusely. I don't know what kind of weird business you have going on but I can just...I don't know? Stitch you up? My mom was a nurse and she taught me a few basics on how to fix up small wounds." I open the first aid kit as I babble on. The room is beginning to smell like iron and I feel lightheaded. He begrudgingly agrees after I beg him to let me help and I thank him. He lets me gently lift the top of his suit and I get to it. I feel sick and as he hisses in pain as the needle digs into his skin, I can't help but also feel sorry for the pain I'm causing him.

He goes on to comfort me as I finish stitching him. He keeps up a nice banter with me, making jokes and asking me other questions about my hobbies, and soon enough I'm tying up the last stitch and taping a bandage over the wound. I take a deep breath and ask him if he's hurt anywhere else. He says no but I still do a quick check. I cannot be responsible for the demise of New York's favorite web-slinger all because I was reckless. I didn't realize it but I said that part out loud. He started to laugh. His low laugh turned into a loud booming fit of hysterics and I couldn't help the laugh that escaped my lips.

He seems so familiar but I can't pinpoint it. I'm so comfortable with this man that I've just met. I blame it on the fact that he's a well-known vigilante who helps others but the whole time we were talking, I couldn't help but compare him to Peter. Their mannerisms and humor are so similar that it seems like they could be the same people but that's such a far-fetched theory that I swept it from my mind as quickly as it entered.

More minutes passed and I accepted the fact that I'd probably fail this test. Maybe, if I play my cards right, I could convince my professor to let me take it again? Say I developed nasty stomach flu or maybe I'll say my mother is in the hospital. He doesn't know she's dead so no harm no foul. Spider-Man and I discuss everything from star signs to the best delis in the area. Our tones get softer and I feel a wave of calm wash over me for the first time in 3 days. A yawn escapes my lips and I accept defeat. I'll email my professor when I wake up. Hopefully, he's understanding.

Spider-Man also seems to have reached his limits. He stands and stretches his arms over his head, groaning obnoxiously in the same way Peter does. Spider-Man thanks me for my help and for the conversation but mentions how he has something to do soon and should probably leave. I don't want him to leave. I find myself wanting to keep him. A courage that I am unfamiliar with strikes my body and suddenly I'm reaching for his mask. I rest my hands on his cheeks as a silent question. Can I? He nods slowly and suddenly there I am, in the middle of my bedroom at who-knows-when, peeling the bottom part of his mask up, stopping just below his nose. I sway forward and all at once, we're kissing.

It's brief, almost as if it was a thank you. A thank you to him for helping me relax in my state of study-induced panic and maybe a thank you from him for helping him? For showing him kindness? Whatever the thanks was for didn't matter, so long as I felt it. When we parted, he pulled his mask down and walked towards the window, opening it, and preparing to disappear into the night. I spoke up one last time.

" Why did you come to my window? Seems pretty random, no?"

He simply looks over his shoulder and says, "Because I knew you'd open the window." And just like that he's gone and I'm left to ponder.

He knew I'd open the window?

[scary-lasagna]

The Christmas Express of the Underrealm, Pt I.

The sun has long since set over the rooftop of the manor, and clocks throughout the resident's rooms eagerly ticked down to midnight, for when Santa would arrive and chuck presents lovingly under the giant tree set in the middle of the foyer.

Slender made sure to simmer the fireplace early, so it would be cool enough to travel down, yet still strategically hold a bit of toasty warmth in contrast to the bitter cold and snow Santa would be facing throughout the night. The tall man ushered everyone off to bed early, clearing out the most populated rooms, and even wagging a finger at Jane for attempting to hide in her designated reading nook with [Y/N].

It's been long since Splendor tucked Sally into bed, and answered most of the Santa-related questions he could. Most of which he pinned on asking Slender tomorrow morning when she opened presents.

The pink walls and frills of her room only stared back at her as she kept her eyes overly wide to struggle to stay awake. The princess canopy made this more difficult, willingly placed there to create a mock sense of snoozy comfort made for a princess. Butterflies and other whimsical insects littered the bare spots of the wall around posters and self-painted portraits of herself and those she claims as her family. Vintage and modern toys alike neatly lined her rather large windowsill, along with paintbrushes used for her lovely portraits, getting the best view of when Santa comes along with his reindeer.

The 8-year-old crossed her fingers together and rested her intertwined hands on her stomach as she patiently waited… She looked over at the window, her toys still keeping an eye out for her as she pretended to sleep.

And waited.

She hummed an old tune to herself, attempting to smartly keep her mind busy enough to stay awake.

…And waited.

Sally lay in her bed, being very careful to not rustle any sheets, while breathing slowly and quietly. After all, how else could she listen for the ringing bells of Santa's sleigh? It might only be a quarter after 10, long past her bedtime, especially on Christmas Eve, but if The Great Claus were to travel across the realm, his sleigh would have to be the size of an ocean liner, and a total of three days to do it. Things just weren't adding up this year. So Sally decided she'd stay up to face the truth, and wondered quite a lot why she was still hearing footsteps outside of her room.

Why were people up if it's almost midnight? They're supposed to be in bed! Everyone knows that, it's literally in the song. Someone grumbled something about a cabin. It sounded like [Y/N]. The footsteps faded down the stairs.

He knows when you're sleeping and when you're awake, so it's only implied that you have to be sleeping by the time he gets here, or you'll be placed on the naughty list last minute!

What silly rules those are. Maybe Sally wanted a glass of water at midnight, would Santa deprive a dehydrated child of water just to put presents under the tree?

Her thoughts ceased to a screeching halt as her door popped open, a pencil-thin light peering into her safe space.

Holy SHIT is that Santa?

Sally shot up like a rocket, quickly peering through the door crack. It widened, revealing a shape that was nowhere near the size of a big jolly fat man and eight reindeer. Well, nine, if you include the weird outcast with a red nose.

In fact, it was a much, much smaller frame. Probably the shortest adult she's ever encountered.

"Ben, what do you want from me? I'm trying to sleep here." Sally huffed and plopped her head back into her pillow in aggravation. There's nothing that could be more important than the arrival of Santa.

Nothing.

"I just had a feeling you were still up, is all." Ben leaned on the doorframe for a second, "Can I come in?"

"Yeah, why not? You already ruined it." Sally gripped her covers and turned over with a haste that was too overly dramatic to imply anything short of spoiled annoyance.

"Ruined what?" Ben took the invitation with ease, and sat on her bedside. "It's not even midnight yet." He glanced at the ticking clock on her bedside to make sure, and sure enough it was still counting down to 10:30.

"Well, you and everyone else are up, which means Santa isn't going to come!" Sally threatened the verge of tears now, with so much frustration in a tiny body like hers, the only way of release is through waterworks.

"Ooohh, so you don't know?"

Sally roughly turned her head toward Ben, yet her body lay still. "What?" She pouted.

"All of those myths are outdated. Santa's really with the times now," Ben shrugged smugly, "and it doesn't matter whether there are people awake or not, he knows how to find a way to sneak past them and place presents under the tree. They're invisible until morning, so even if a kid sneaks down to peek, they won't be there!"

Sally supposed that made sense. But she didn't admit it. After all, why would Splendor lie about having to stay in bed until morning?

"That doesn't mean you shouldn't be sleeping though." He gave her a pat on the shoulder, and attempted to leave, but Sally had one last thing to say.

"I'm not sleeping tonight. I'm listening for the bells on Santa's sleigh."

Ben smiled, and nodded knowingly at the door frame. "Wake me up when he gets here, then."

The door clicked shut, and Sally sank into her mattress with great comfort. She blamed her sleepiness on the canopy, and weakly shook a fist toward it with a sleepy groan.

Her eyelids held too much weight to keep prying open, and slipped, and fell into a cozy and warm darkness of slumber.

[singswan-springswan]

Behold: a little plot bunny that's been bouncing around my head. Another Kanera mermaid AU because I'm obsessed with mermaids and Kanera is love Kanera is life. Kanan's trying desperately not to blow his cover on land but gaslighting his human partner Hera is harder than he thought, especially when he can't help but save her from drowning on the occasion.

words: 1174

~

Hera knew Kanan was a skeptic—and in all fairness, she’d been one too. But before all that, he was supposed to trust her. That’d been the first thing to connect them. Her wild ideas, and his fascinated willingness to go along with them. Of course, Hera knew that he had boundaries, but they’d been difficult to find in the two years he’d been her best friend, and the fact that they existed in the first place was something of a vague notion. In any case, she never thought he’d draw the line here.

“This isn’t me being radical, Kanan.” Hera huffed, smacking the meter stick into her other hand. These days, it felt like a necessary thing to have him take her side, even if there was no solid opposition to take sides against, and even if the argument didn’t involve him. Hera just liked when he supported her, if she was honest. Which was silly. As if he didn’t support her by default as it was, here she stood now, demanding he agree with the one assertion that made him dig his heels in. 

But really, wasn’t he used to her crazy ideas by now? Surely he couldn’t be putting this past her. He should have seen it coming. She should have seen it coming too. Kriff, maybe she really was crazy, but could he at least agree with her?

Kanan propped a handsome cheekbone on his fist, elbow slanted lazily atop the messy table. Hera could stand to tidy things up in here; the galley of her beloved ship was something that should be clean on the regular. But she’d been down here all night with her murder board, and there hadn’t been time before Kanan wandered in for breakfast. He looked bored, having finished his bagel by now. There was a closed-off tolerance behind his eyes: a look so rare it made Hera frantic to have him understand.

She pointed the stick to the whiteboard on her right, where she’d pinned up photographs and newspaper clippings and a flaky array of sticky notes—all very neatly organized from her point of view, though a small voice in her head said that Kanan and perhaps a Hera who wasn’t sleep deprived would not see it the same way.

“This is me being logical. Look, I have it all thought out.”

Kanan—bless him—didn’t patronize her with a pointed sweep of the room. Hera really ought to clean up.

“There’s nothing logical about what happened.” He said in a blunt tone. At least he was focused on her, not indulging the rant with presence alone. 

“Exactly! There’s no logical explanation. Which can only mean my survival was supernatural. We both know I should have died that night—there was no chance for me to make it through the storm on my own, even with all my skill and experience—so whoever rescued me must have been specially gifted and enhanced individuals like that simply don’t exist within the human understanding of the world. Besides, I saw—”

“You imagined.” Kanan interrupted, frowning a little now, to Hera’s immense frustration. “You were half drowned by the time you made it back to shore, and that much more exhausted. On top of that, your imagination is one of the more impressive ones out there.”

Hera glared at him. “I saw,” She insisted. “Things that can’t be explained by a human understanding of the world. And you know me. I’m adaptable.”

Kanan sighed heavily and rubbed a hand against his brow. He was certainly being firm about this line, and not crossing it and such. And that was maddening to Hera. It didn’t fit his pattern of behavior to be so adamant about not believing her. Sure, this might be her craziest idea to date, but a few of her past conspiracy theories came pretty darn close and as she recalled, he’d jumped on board without a second thought. So why was this any different?

Outside, a boat motor rumbled past the marina, and the Ghost creaked pleasantly while it rocked on the wake coming in. Hera could hear the bustle of other mariners on the docks too, mingled with seagull chatter and clanging equipment. This late in the morning, the first round of fishermen were coming to port already. And she still hadn’t convinced Kanan.

“Okay,” He dropped the hands from his face and held them pressed together, fingers pointed her direction. “This is what we know.”

Hera narrowed her eyes, but she let him talk.

“You were stupid enough to take the Phantom out without me when you knew the forecast was bad, and you were caught on the open ocean when a storm rolled in. The dinghy capsized, probably on the seabed by now, with all your equipment—and you were lucky enough to wash up on shore before you drowned completely. Does that sound about right?”

Hera swung the meter stick down to smack a pile of papers in front of Kanan, eliciting a sharp noise and no reaction but an unimpressed raise of the eyebrow. “What I know,” She snapped. “Is that I should be dead. And I have one very specific person to thank for that. I was rescued, Kanan. Someone saved me: someone not human. Someone from the sea.” 

She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen it herself. And although the memories from that night were fuzzy around the edges, she distinctly recalled the moment on the beach, vomiting sea water in the pouring rain, tucked into a pair of strong arms. She remembered babbling in confusion, and she remembered her rescuer vanishing in a brilliant blur of green and gold, before she could properly register the feel of scales beneath her hand. These memories weren’t products of an exhausted brain or overstimulated imagination. She knew she sounded crazy otherwise, but she couldn’t betray herself. Maybe for that reason, she was so determined to convince Kanan. She didn’t want to be crazy and alone.

But he was unimpressed with her stubborn insistence. He wasn’t patronizing, or indulgent—which would have made his disbelief worse—so small miracles. At least he had the decency to be straight with her.

“Hera,” Kanan gave her a flat look. “You know mermaids aren’t real, right?”

There was no budging on that line of his. Hera wanted to pout, cross her arms, insist that no actually she didn’t know that, and neither did he really. But they’d been at this for hours already. She’d started her rant the moment he strolled in—hair still a beautiful mess from sleep—and she’d meticulously explained every node on her murder board with fine detail, so if that hadn’t convinced him even a smidge, then whining definitely wouldn’t.

Instead, Hera drew herself up and gave him her best calculating stare. “What would it take?” She asked slowly, carefully. “To make you believe?”

Kanan crossed his arms and leaned back: the foreign picture of closed off. His lips pinched. His eyes had a wall behind them. “You couldn’t convince me.” He said plainly. “Fairytales don’t exist.”

[thedo0zyslider]

I Love You (I'm Not Supposed Too) - Chapter Six: Secrets Kept No More - 4k Words

Fwhip finally finds out what Jimmy wanted to say all those months ago.

A03 Link

The next few days in the Ocean Empire were pretty routine. And boring. Every day is almost the same, save for a few moments when he and Jimmy would either sneak away together, or they got too tired of each other's presence and retreated to their chambers for a few hours. Other than that, they would wake up, and head to the Cod Empire to do whatever needed done. Helping a whole group of people properly establish themselves was a lot of work, work Fwhip hadn’t signed up for. But he helped anyways, because there was nothing else to do, not really.

The work was pretty standard, all things considered. They helped people get back on their feet, did boring government stuff Fwhip always zoned out on, like he did at home, built things, helped with the farms, and sometimes they were even put on babysitting duty. Though the half dragon wasn’t very trusted in that department for a few obvious reasons. Mainly the bigotry and his usual impulsiveness, but he didn’t mind. Fwhip was never a big fan of kids anyways. And then, at the end of the day, when the little tasks were done, they headed back to the Prisma Palace for dinner and whatever the Ocean Queen wanted them to do. If she wanted anything.

The half dragon is given a guest room, one with a giant, plush bed and a lot of decor on the wall. Merfolk liked to line their homes with shell and other such trinkets, as he’d come to notice, and the guest rooms were no exception. Just like the rest of the palace, his room was also very pink and blue and white. Fwhip thinks he could go his whole life without seeing this color palette ever again, and be perfectly content.

One morning, maybe a week or so into the trip, the future Count awakens earlier than normal. He doesn’t know why, but he does know the sun is streaming through his room’s window; meaning he should get out of bed pretty soon. He has a feeling the queen doesn’t take lightly to oversleepers, even if he had helped carry loads of stone and wood and whatnot around the swamp all yesterday and probably needed the extra rest. But whatever, her house, her rules, the ginger supposed.

He dresses in his normal attire, minus the black coat. He hates taking it off, but less layers means he won’t get as sweaty. Especially since he does manual labor most of the day, or a lot of walking. Fwhip was used to extreme heat in the forge, not the humidity of a swamp in the summertime. Also, it’s just less fabric to get all muddy and gross. His poor boots though will need to be deep cleaned when he’s home, all the shoes he brought with him will. It feels like there’s water permanently in the leather nowadays, even when there’s not.

But that’s not the focus right now. The focus is getting ready and then getting breakfast. Ocean cuisine was a little….unusual for his tastes, but he did like a few of the dishes. Disturbing meals including both salmon and cod aside. Thankfully those weren’t usually served at breakfast, so he could avoid them until dinner or lunch time most days. Usually .

Fwhip steps out of his door a few minutes later, right after he finishes his morning routine…..and realizes he doesn't have a clue where the dining hall would be in this gigantic place. He ate there for dinner the previous night, but this place is so huge compared to the Manor. He has no idea how to even get back there, despite having a small tour when he arrived. Also, it would feel very awkward walking in without Jimmy.

He mumbles something to himself, grumpy from another bad night of sleep. It was hard to get any rest with waves constantly roaring all night long. His sleep deprivation, which was worse than normal, was probably making the whole trip more unpleasant than it actually was. The Ocean and its Empire were quite pretty, one had to admit, and the half dragon was sure he’d enjoy it more if it would let him sleep .

The ginger walks down to Jimmy’s room as he grumbles, the only place in the Palace he’s somewhat sure of the location of. That and his guest room. Mostly because they are in close proximity to each other, likely done on purpose, and because they’re the two most important rooms he passes every evening. He thinks he’s figured out where the library (the above water one) is though. He thinks.

He finds the Prince’s room, with less struggle than he had a few days ago. Fwhip only turned the wrong corner a few times! Yesterday he’d done that like, six or seven, so, progress! And while he’s never really…..knocked on Jimmy’s door, he knows the other is awake around this time. The cod had woken him up from a restless sleep far too often, enough that was decently familiar with the others' general sleep shedulce. Visiting him real quick would be fine , especially if he got breakfast at the end of it.

Fwhip opens the door, and he really, really should've knocked. He opens the door to a shirtless Jimmy, presumably in the middle of changing, and it takes the half dragon a good minute of shocked staring to realize that a binder is covering his chest. Jimmy whips his head around to face him, some kind of fear clearly in his gaze. The future Count kinda wants to punch himself for being so stupid.

Once he has that realization, the half dragon feels himself start to fumble out of embarrassment. “Oh, shit , sorry —I didn’t know you were-" He stumbles over his words, feeling a blush start to creep up his face. He politely keeps his gaze on the floor, his hand searching for the doorknob once again. The young prince is not having any of this, and the half dragon can’t really blame him.

“Just leave, okay!?” The cod snaps at him, and Fwhip listens to this guy for what has to be one of the first times ever. He ducks his head back out as soon as he finds the knob again, closing the door behind him with a rather loud slam. Silently, he slides down against the nearest wall, and resists the urge to scream into his own hands. That had been mortifying for him, making that big of a mistake. He can’t even imagine how Jimmy must feel right now, being seen like that. Being seen in what has to be some kind of vulnerable moment, by someone he certainly doesn’t want to be vulnerable with.

He sits there, slumped against the wall for a few minutes; hands running over his face and through his now messy hair. The future Count isn't really sure what to do after…. that . Mainly there are just a lot of things going through Fwhip's head as he sits there. He's pretty flustered, not ever intending to do that, and is sure a fierce blush is currently coating his face. Part of him knows it might be better that he leaves, because Jimmy will very understandably be scared to next confront him. The other part doesn't feel right just leaving. He feels like he needs to apologize. No, Fwhip wants to apologize. He feels bad, which certainly is a new emotion around the young cod.

The castle is still quiet, and it seems their little encounter hadn't disturbed anyone, thank god. Fwhip didn't want their screaming to accidentally out Jimmy to anyone else, for he had already heard some terms the staff used towards the prince. No servants have even begun moving towards the hall yet, and no footsteps can be heard in the distance. The Ocean Empire has rather quiet mornings, as opposed to the Grimlands rather loud and explosive ones. Which is good right now, he supposes. A quiet castle gives you more time to regain your bearings.

There is some shuffling by the door, and the doorknob starts to turn once again. Fwhip, still pretty stricken by the whole ordeal despite his best efforts, looks up in surprise. His suitor doesn't emerge instantly, taking his time to fully leave his bedroom. But when he does, the sight only makes the half dragon feel even more guilty.

Jimmy slowly shuffles out, his bedroom door being shut quietly behind him. Probably not to disturb anyone else in any nearby rooms, if there are any. He's finished changing, now wearing a green tunic. Not a skintight one like merfolk usually wore, but one that was clearly meant for a bigger person. One clearly meant to hide things, Fwhip would now notice. He suspects it isn’t the first time Jimmy has denied his species traditional attire in front of him, and probably won't be the last. The cod's face is red, his eyes puffy, and a weak frown painting his face. Fwhip feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of Jimmy crying because of him and his dumb mistake.

"Are you okay?" He asks, meeting the others' gaze tentatively. The future Count has no idea if the other is angry at him and, for once, wouldn't blame him if he was.

"I'm fine." Jimmy says, and it is clearly a lie. He's shaking, and leaning on the wall for support. Like he'll collapse and break down if he doesn't do so. It's not hard to believe that he will, either.

"You're shaking, and your eyes are red." Fwhip points out, scanning over the blonde's face. He's been crying his eyes out, that much is clear. So much so that if Lizzie were to walk by, she'd probably punch the future Count on the spot.

"Why do you care?" The cod asks, slumping down next to him. He's even surprised Jimmy wants to sit next to him after that, but he lets it happen anyway. They sit a few inches apart, not enough to touch, but not far enough to feel fully awkward. It's just enough space for the time being.

"Because I'm not stupid. I know what I just did." Fwhip says, feeling a frown stretching onto his face the longer this conversation goes on. He doesn't like the tone the other has, whatever it is. It's upsetting.

Jimmy forces a smile, and lets out a broken sounding laugh. “Well, didn’t want you to see my boobs. But you were gonna one day I guess, since the mar-”

“Don’t.” Fwhip cuts him off, running a hand over his face again. “Please don’t joke about….any of that stuff, okay? Not a good time.” It will come to concern Fwhip slightly, the kind of self hating jokes Jimmy makes about the marriage and himself. Because he'll make more in the future, and the half dragon will have to knock the habit out of him he supposes. “Also, not really our thing.”

“Sorry. Sorry. I know, bad joke. I’m just…a little upset.” The cod mumbles, hanging his head a bit. Not in shame, just lingering embarrassment. Fwhip feels a wrong sort of feeling settling in his stomach, and frowns. “And yeah…that’s not our thing.”

“I know….you’re probably upset.” He says, wholly sincere with Jimmy. Probably for like, the second time ever if he’s being honest. Because he would hate himself if he was anything but sincere under today’s circumstances. They were far too serious for his usual attitude. "Sorry about walking in without knocking or anything…I won’t do it again."

Jimmy takes a moment to respond, the back of his head hitting the wall with a dull thunking sound. "It's fine, really. You were gonna find out eventually. Probably. I just wanted it to be under…different circumstances is all."

Fwhip hums, and wraps his tail around his legs. It had been awkwardly laying on the floor before now, and it was…..strangely comforting to wrap it around himself. Even though he wasn't the one who needed comfort right now. "Sorry about that too."

"Not the worst thing in the world." Jimmy hums, watching his movement. He seems like he's zoning out a little bit, his mind wandering elsewhere. To other things and other trains of thoughts, more troubling ones probably.

"I kinda already knew. Thought I should mention that." Fwhip hums, glancing away to stare at the wall. He doesn't want to see Jimmy’s face when he responds, whatever that response may be.

"Oh?" Is all the cod responds with. He sounds…curious, and only that. Thankfully. Fwhip didn't know if the other would've been angered by that or whatever.

He glances back at Jimmy when he explains it, and is met with a look of slight curiosity. Which is fair, to Jimmy’s credit, he passes very well. Fwhip is just very good at noticing details. “When they told us about the marriage, our parents called you a princess and stuff. And the staff have been too. I just didn't want to assume anything, y'know?"

"Yeah, my mom's probably the reason for that. I didn't take them for… that type of person." The blonde nods, taking the others' explanation into consideration for a moment. The ginger would pay so much money to know what's running through his head right now.

"No, they're not like that." Fwhip confirms, briefly thinking back on his parents. Despite whatever way they might have failed him and his sister before, they had always been nothing but supportive of their children's identities. One of the few good qualities they both shared, if they shared any at all. "I could mention it to them….?"

The offer is said tentatively, but Jimmy looks so incredibly relieved at hearing it. "Please." He says, and Fwhip nods. He cannot help but wonder what hell this boy has been living through for so long, to be so relieved when even the most basic decency is shown to him.

“Sorry about how we left things, when you were forgotten at the manor. By the way.” The half dragon adds, somehow remembering to say sorry for that. Take that , memory issues. “I was just….I was starting to guess and didn’t know how to ask you.”

“It’s okay..” Jimmy says, trying to crack a smile. It's weaker than he would probably like it to be, but it's a start. Fwhip grins back, and neither of them have anything more to say. Not immediately, at least.

“You don’t…have a problem with it do you?” Jimmy nearly whispers the question into the silence. They've been sitting in quiet for a few minutes, and Fwhip had grown content to stare at the Palace's prismarine walls until one of them decided to move again.

Fwhip tilts his head to the side curiously, a little scared of what the other is about to ask. “With what?”

“With me being….with me having girl stuff. And you having to marry that. ” Jimmy spits out some of the words with such venom, that Fwhip is shocked by it. He feels a surprising wave of pity wash over him, for this boy he hates so much, and it's the first time ever he has to stop himself from hugging the young cod.

“No, I don’t. Why the hell would I?” He says, like it is the easiest thing to say. Because it is. To the blonde it's something he never expected to hear.

“Oh…” Jimmy sounds…..so genuinely surprised at his answer. “It’s just…some people would. Some people do. ”

“Those people suck.” His answer is spit out in an instance, full of more passion than he thought was possible. Those people do suck. They suck a lot .

“Yeah.” Jimmy agrees meekly, hesitantly slumping down and resting his head on the half dragon's shoulder. Fwhip lets him do so, not caring that a merfolk is touching him right now. He needs it a lot right now, he figures.

They sit in the silence for a few seconds once more, in the white and blue hallway of the Prisma Palace. Two people who should, and do, hate each other, but aren't really acting like it. They haven't had the energy to act like it for a while, Fwhip thinks, with how shit everything is. How the world constantly throws terrible things at the both of them and expects the boys to just cope . That's what it feels like, anyways.

Maybe it'll be better when they're older.

"You do know you're not the only one of us who's like that, don't you?" Fwhip mumbles, his cheek now resting against the blonde's head. He doesn't know how long they've been in the hallway, but the palace hasn't started its normal routine yet. So he guesses it can't have been too long. Maybe one of the maids or cooks will find them, and ask why in the bloody hell two royals are sitting in a dirty hallway, cuddling.

Jimmy gets a little excited, as told by his tail smacking the wall a few times before he realizes it's moving. "No…?"

"Well, Xornorth’s nonbinary, and Sausage is pretty gender nonconforming.” Fwhip says, trying to remember everyone who's come out so far. He doesn't know all their labels, if some people have any, but he tries his best to get them right. “And Shrub isn't entirely a girl."

"Oh…I didn't know that." Jimmy hums, sounding happier than he had before. The half dragon briefly wonders if, when the thirteen of them are together again, that a labels debrief would make some people feel more included.

"None of us are straight either, I don’t think." Fwhip might’ve not been up to date on all the labels, but he was pretty sure of that fact. That their whole group were all horribly not straight in some way, some more obviously than others.

Jimmy lets out an amused snort at that. "Of course." That's the right phrase for it really, of course . Of course all the royal children are queer as hell. Of course most of their parents suck too. How else would it be with their little group?

"Why're you being so nice to me over this?" The cod adds on after a moment, cautious, and has every right to be so.

Fwhip resists the urge to roll his eyes, and spits out the honest truth. He really wonders if Jimmy thought that lowly of him before, say, maybe twenty to thirty minutes ago. The half dragon wouldn’t be surprised if he did, not after everything. "I don't like you and I think you're annoying as hell, but I'm not cruel ."

"Thanks for that, I guess." Jimmy mumbles, sounding shocked and surprised again. Fwhip hears that tone, he’s heard it too many times today, and truly starts to wish the world would be kinder to this poor fishboy. Sans himself and his very justified hatred, of course.

"Don't thank me for treating you like a human being." The half dragon snorts, and fixes Jimmy with a look . He’s pretty sure the meaning of it goes right over the blonde’s head, too. The utter idiot “And we have that truce, remember? No being assholes ‘till we’re hitched?”

“Yeah…the truce. Almost forgot about that.” Jimmy mumbles, sounding a little thoughtful once again. Maybe he’s been full of thoughts this whole time, and Fwhip’s just shit at noticing. Or he’s running out of words to describe the cod, because they have never interacted like this before. He has a very limited vocabulary when it comes to describing Jimmy. Today he is running out of words he hasn’t used, and also adding new ones. “We’re not good at following it, are we?” Jimmy keeps talking, and Fwhip barely hears him, lost in his own thoughts it seems. He hated how easy that was to do.

(Adding new ones like sad , and mistreated , and stressed , and traumatized and a whole bunch of other words he has no more room for in the half dragon’s never ending whirlwind of a mind.)

“No, but I like to think we’ve gotten better.” He mumbles out a response, taking a few precious seconds to clear his head. They’ve certainly gotten better, or at least more tolerable of each other’s presence, because Fwhip isn’t pinning Jimmy into a wall and holding him hard enough to bruise anymore. They had to have gotten better, because his mental health hasn’t. Both of their have probably gotten worse over the years, actually.

“We have to be. Because they’re all buying it. Every single one of them.” Jimmy says, and it’s the most confident he’s sounded in a while, and will sound all day. He also sounds more than a little scared, and Fwhip can’t help but share the sentiment a bit.

“Good. Good.” He mumbles, and doesn’t want to admit that he feels some of the same fear. They are going along with this whole thing out of fear, it’s the whole reason why they’re even sitting here in the first place. Fear of judgment, of failure of duty, of disappointment. Of what their parents would say. Even if they don’t really talk about it, both of them know that’s what’s happening. Body language always says a lot more than both the boys wish it would.

Jimmy changes the topic back to their earlier, less daunting one. It seems a lot still weighs on his mind, which is to be expected with a situation and life like this. "I want to get…the surgery for it, but, ah.…my mum won't let me.."

"Well, maybe you can get it before the wedding….?" Fwhip threw out the suggestion lightly, and gave a small shrug of his shoulders. Before the wedding was a vague timeframe. Realistically, that could be as soon as they’re both legal adults, or within the next five years. But it was a time frame that they could aim for, and that was better than nothing. And if Jimmy's mom wouldn’t let him get that surgery, than Fwhip would be the one throwing him in front of the healers instead, shitty parents be damned.

He’d really had enough of shitty parents recently.

"Hmph, maybe…" Jimmy mumbles. He hopes the sound in the other’s voice is hope, faux or real. They need some positive emotions right now, he’s already feeling emotionally drained from the guilt and the shame and whatnot. It’s not even seven in the morning, either.

“The truce extends to that too, by the way.” Fwhip adds, nudging the others shoulder with his own. He feels a grin start to bloom on his face. One of his shit-eating ones that always makes Gem groan and Sausage mirror it.

The cod gives him a confused look, his face scrunching up with the feeling. He’s not despondent anymore, so that’s a win for Team Fwhip! Sadly the only win today, but he might get some more as the hours wear on, especially if he keeps this attitude up. “Whaddya mean?”

“That means if someone’s being a transphobe, I get to deck them in the face. Even when we're married.” Fwhip explains, his grin getting larger. He does one of his normal hand gestures as he speaks, like he does with all his other explanations. Jimmy, well accustomed to the half dragon’s quirks, pays it no mind.

“Even my mum?” Jimmy asks, and sounds a little stupid when he does.

Fwhip nods, and feels tension unknot itself and leave the cod’s body from where they’re still pressed together. “Even your mom.”

“Heh, thanks.” Jimmy giggles, eventually having to muffle the laughter with his hand after a few minutes. Aannddd that’s two wins for team Fwhip, all within a minute or so of the last one. He better savor these — and this rare companionship with Jimmy — while the moment allows and before their normal bickering starts up once again.

“Again, don’t thank me.” Fwhip shrugs again, his tail finally uncurling from around himself. He doesn’t need any comforting measures, not immediately anyways. The tense and upset mood from earlier is long gone, now replaced with something lighter, even if both the royal’s hearts are still heavy with a lot of things.

“Force of habit, being polite is.” The cod says, his own tail swishing dully against the floor. It’s good to see he’s cheered up, and not crying anymore. And also not having to think about all the terrible treatment he receives. It’s good.

“So I’ve noticed.” Fwhip snorts, watching as the other starts to stand up. Jimmy gives all his limbs a stretch, since they’re still probably stiff from the night’s rest, and then holds a hand down to the other boy. The half dragon takes it without any complaint, or grumbles under his breath about having to touch a fish. Jimmy just helps him up, and it's probably the most simple yet complex interaction they’ve ever had. To date, anyways.

The Prince then starts to move down the hallway, past his door to where Fwhip thinks the dining hall is. The dining hall and a million other passageways and rooms he can’t remember. Dumb castles and their dumb, beautiful architecture. “Let’s go get breakfast, or something.”

“And where are we going after that?” The ginger follows behind, already mentally preparing himself for another six or more hours of helping the dumb cod people out. Him and Jimmy might be cool for today, but that doesn’t mean he suddenly likes all that mud and grime the swamp carries. Jimmy hums, sounding a little cheeky, and like he has his own shit-eating grin now smeared across his face. “Well, mom never said we had to be in the Cod Empire today. I was just scheduled there for three days this week…”

“So we’re getting a free day?” Fwhip thinks everything about him visibly lights up, from his voice to his demeanor. The mere thought of a free day, of finally being able to hide in his guest room, or the castle’s library, or wherever this dumb kingdom invented stuff, was enough to make his tail wag slightly. Anything, literally anything , but the horrible swamps and gross water again was going to make him beam.

“Basically, yeah.” Jimmy confirms, turning a corner without even thinking. Fwhip envy's everyone who has the dumb Palace mapped out already, and doesn’t struggle getting around. So he basically envies everyone who lives there.

“Finally, time away from you.” The ginger huffs, gloved hands being shoved in his coat pockets. He tries to commit the winding corridors to memory again, and hopes it goes a little better this time.

“Finally.” Jimmy agrees, right as they reach the dining hall for breakfast. Either they walked really fast for some reason, or Fwhip’s memory of the place truly is horrible. He never thought it was that close to the bedrooms. But hey, they’re not serving fried salmon for breakfast again today, so as long as that keeps happening, he won’t complain about the proximity to food. Especially if a free day follows after it. He rarely ever gets free days, here or at home There’s always something, some project or dumb responsibility thing, to do. But now he’s finally getting one after what has to be months , maybe even years.

Maybe his stay in the Ocean won’t be so bad after all.

[angst-king]

This is love pt 1

(So i've recently fallen in love with a new ship which is Aizawa n Keigo, for now, I'm going to call them 'NightFlight'. I wanna play around with them, so here's a lil short story. Yes it's actually fluff, I'm not here to torture ya'll with this one. Its only a lil sad but. I hope you all like it) Shota often forgot what love felt like especially when it came to falling in love. He was too busy grading essays, putting in grades, coming up with lesson plans, and nightly patrol to remember. Shota often forgot he was even a human being and not just some machine who’s only fuel was coffee and snuggles from his cat. That was until Keigo had come in to help with internships and would often sit in on lesson plans. Shota didn’t remember when Keigo basically became his 4-times-a-month in-class teacher’s assistant. First, it just started out with Keigo casually refilling his coffee for him, then when he would spend nights at the teacher’s apartment he would help with grading multiple-choice tests, and now he was helping out some of the other students with their classwork. Keigo never even went to a normal school growing up, how the hell was he doing this?! Then again Shota was never one to assign horrendous amounts of work, and he would sometimes have to teach Keigo things that he was teaching and always broke it down into simple matters.

Shota knew from the start he loved Keigo, once he got his feelings sorted out at least, and Keigo loved him. He didn’t know you could fall in love with the same person over and over again! This week had been rough for Shota, as this was the upcoming anniversary of the day he lost one of his best friends. Usually, Shota could pull through it or at least he thought he was. He would always force away an impending doom that always loomed over him around this time. This feeling would make him anxious and keep him up at night. He would have nightmares of the event of that day, and would then have nightmares of the same things or something similar happening to his students. He was already sleep-deprived as is and night terrors on top of it weren’t something that made functioning easy.

Today was the day and he was okay! Well during the first half he was, all he had to do was hand out a test and make sure no one cheated. Easy enough but the exhaustion was going to pounce on him sooner rather than later and Keigo could see it a mile away. He saw how Shota struggled to keep his eyes open or keep a straight conversation when explaining something to a student. How he just barely caught himself tripping over his own feet.

So what did Keigo do? Wait till Shota finally passed out at his desk, put his headphones on the older man to block out any noise and looked over his lesson plans.

Shota didn’t even remember falling asleep, but he woke up with his head on his desk and to silence…Silence?! Was class over? He sat up and saw his students still seated and taking notes, but he wasn’t teaching. Why was there no sound? Then he noticed the headphones and slipped them off and was hit by the sound of Keigo reading off a book. He was teaching them from his lesson plans. For some reason seeing him standing up at the front of the classroom room confidently explaining hero history made his heart melt. A part of him wanted to get up and take over but the other half of him was too tired to care and pulled him back into his dreams. This time they weren’t so bad, nothing that would make him scream, yelp, or thrash.

When he woke up again he realized he had slept through his classes but damn did he need it. He was still tired but it had gotten better! Now was the hard part, going to Oboro’s grave. Even though the body had been decimated, he was still given a grave. Going to his grave was always hard but he could never bring himself to skip out on it, thinking of it as a sign of disrespect for his old friend who he knew would come to his grave no matter what.

Keigo went along with him for support, something Shota often pushed away, but today he let himself have it. He let himself lean into Keigo’s shoulder and even cried when looking at the tombstone became too much. He let himself ball like a bitch till he couldn’t any longer. And Keigo held him. Shota was never one for kissing but being hugged was enough. He needed that warm loving embrace again. It reminded him he was still a human being, a human being who was loved. Keigo would rub soft circles into his back encouraging him to cry. He would promise him that his friend was happy that he had came, and would be proud of how far he had come as a person.

Shota couldn’t help but feel his heart do summersaults every time Keigo gently told him ‘i’m proud of you’ or ‘I love you’. It was the same feeling he felt whenever Keigo took him out to get his favorite dinner to take home. It was the same feeling he had when Keigo would cuddle up to him while watching a movie he enjoyed. This was love!

[yurinaa-world]

I'm feeling pretty down like crying,having toxic thoughts,sleep deprivation and school stress

Can I have a dialogue with Vash and wolfwood (separate) where they talk with their s/o but then gets angry at them because they aren't listening so they raise their voice but then the reader pass out,later it founds out that they aren't take care well if themselves, overworking,sleep deprivation, and like Vash and wolfwood when their s/o pass out they're super worried and freaked out because they think it's their fault?

In the end they talk it out and with some fluff? Thanks in advance

Characters: Vash and Nicholas x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: where they talk with their s/o but then find out that they aren't taking care of themselves

Warnings: fluff

𝒱𝒶𝓈𝒽 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝓊𝓂𝒶𝓃𝑜𝒾𝒹 𝒯𝓎𝓅𝒽𝑜𝑜𝓃"

You and Vash were staying in a motel room together. You felt your head drop down in drowsiness as Vash talked, but your brain muffled his voice, and for some reason his voice irritated you. "Is something wrong, (name)?" Vash looked at you with concern and replied, "I'm fine."You huffed at everything that irritated you, especially the painful ache, which was making your mood worse.

"Are you sure?"

"I said I'm fine!" You retorted in a harsh tone without realizing it because your tired and aching mind made you see Vash's worried face: "You look like you're not getting enough sleep." Vash's expression softened. "I'm fine, Vash, just could you leave me alone?" You sighed, rubbing at your temples, trying to get rid of the headache that was still throbbing painfully.

Vash nodded slowly. "Just don't hesitate to talk if you need anything." He left you with your thoughts, closing the door softly behind him and leaving you alone with your thoughts. You groaned, frustrated, and let go of your headache, letting it pound on your skull.

you laid down on the mattress, your body started to ache, and tiredness took over your whole body, and you didn't have the energy to fight back against your pain. Closing your eyes, you tried to ignore how everything hurt as you drifted off to sleep.

Vash had come back into the room after 10 minutes, and seeing you already asleep, he quietly sat on the edge of the bed. He could see how overworked your body was and started lashing out; he doesn’t blame you either. He thought you deserved the rest, and so did he; he wasn’t going to complain about this at all "I wish I can be there for you (Name)." he murmured.

He placed a small kiss on your forehead and said, "Please don't overwork yourself (name)."

𝒩𝒾𝒸𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒶𝓈 𝒟 𝒲𝑜𝓁𝒻𝓌𝑜𝑜𝒹 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒫𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓈𝒽𝑒𝓇"

While Nicholas talked, his words went through one ear and out the other. You were very tired; you haven’t been getting sleep for the past couple of days; it’s been hard for you to concentrate on things; your body feels like you're going to fall over and pass out from exhaustion at any minute; and your mind is fuzzy around the edges.

"Hey, are you listening?" Nicholas grumbled, shaking your shoulders slightly, when you didn't answer right away. "You alright there?" He asked, "Are you even hearing me?" He asked again, louder this time, but still got no response. Your head was spinning with fatigue, so much so that you could barely focus on his words.

You might fall asleep at this point,  you thought hazily. "I'm fine," you replied faintly; you could feel your voice wavering slightly, "just tired." You added, You feel everything go dark before the body falls over but before it can say (name)!" Nicholas bleated before he grabbed you by the waist and yanked you upright.

You opened your eyes slowly, as if trying to figure out what happened. Your thoughts were foggy, and you were trying to clear the haze from your head. Nicholas was sitting next to you, looking calm, but you weren't fatigued anymore; you had fallen asleep.

Nicholas noticed how dazed you were and sighed. "You scared me; if you were really tired, you should have told me," Nicholas huffed quietly, sorry, I didn't mean to." You smiled softly, feeling guilty for worrying him, saying, "It's fine, at least you're okay; just don't do it again without telling me." Nicholas spoke firmly.

"I promise"

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[practically-an-x-man]

bound, desire, failure, ghost, hate, mask for Gia and Ophelia please

Oooh thank you!!

Not-So-Nice OC Asks

bound: Has your OC ever been imprisoned or captured? What happened? How did they get out? Did the experience leave any scars?

Gia: Well, there's obviously her imprisonment by HYDRA, which was her first and only imprisonment. It was presented to her as a study into the hereditary links to childhood cancer, and she was "accepted" into the study because her sister had leukemia. Really, it was a study in extracting and linking peoples' life forces to objects outside their body, and she was the only recorded survivor. She got out when that branch of HYDRA was discovered and shut down, and though SHIELD offered her a new identity and other support she decided she didn't want to be chained to another institution and went off on her own instead. The experience left many mental and physical scars.

Ophelia: A few times, though all of them were fairly run-of-the-mill supervillain captures. Someone manages to get the jump on her, she's locked up somewhere for a few hours, maybe a day, and then she either busts out or Peter manages to find her. Some of them have left physical scars, but she doesn't usually let them faze her mentally.

desire: What's one thing your OC wants more than anything in the world? Are they open with that desire? Why or why not? What would they do to fulfill it?

Gia: That's a tough one... she kind of set aside any really big life goals after she left HYDRA. She tells herself that she's just keeping her expectations realistic, but really it's more that she's become chronically terrified of life and doesn't want to leave her comfort zone. Inwardly, she probably wants to get back to the life she had before HYDRA, without all that anxiety, but she's not aware of how badly she wants that.

Ophelia: More than anything, she wants the people she lost back in her life. But since this is pretty much impossible, her second desire is to honor their memory and do things that would make them proud of her. Sometimes she pushes this too far, into self-destruction, but it's also driven her into her best work.

failure: What's your OC's greatest failure? Have they been able to move past it? Does anyone else know about it?

Gia: She continues to blame herself for ending up in HYDRA - she should have known it was a fake ad, she should have backed out the moment things looked a little fishy, she should have been more aware of what was going on. Really, it wasn't anything she could have done, but she still considers it to be her mistake that caused, in her opinion, the destruction of her entire life. She doesn't admit the depths of that guilt openly, but Kate catches glimpses at they get close.

Ophelia: Her original death - she knew she should have been more careful about the fuel, and should have gone home instead of pushing herself through the storm and the sleep deprivation, and if it weren't for the multiverse it would have been a permanently lethal mistake for her. She's open about it now, though, as a reminder to herself and others not to make the same mistake.

ghost: Who or what haunts your OC? What happened? How do they live with their ghosts?

Gia: Her younger sister Yadzia - as I've said before, she passed away from leukemia as a child, and that tragedy is really what spurred Gia into HYDRA. She was so haunted by her sister's death and everything that surrounded it, she'd do anything to keep that from happening to other families... and instead she tumbled straight into HYDRA.

Ophelia: Everyone she's lost, but especially her mother, Harry, and Lyla since they didn't come back. She lost them all in various superhero-adjacent events, which is part of why she pushes herself so hard as Argonaut in the present.

hate: What does your OC hate? Why? How do they act towards the object of their hatred?

Gia: I'm not sure there's anything she genuinely hates except HYDRA. She's uncomfortable with a lot of things, annoyed by a lot of things, but she's not a person who hates very easily.

Ophelia: She hates being underestimated or undervalued - it's happened all through her life for being a woman, for being queer, for being Jewish, for whatever else. It used to hit her hard, since she has to work three times as hard just to get the same attention as the white men in her profession, but she's learned to channel that into determination and drive instead.

mask: Does your OC wear a mask, literally or figuratively? What goes on beneath it? Is there anyone in their life who gets to see who they are under the mask?

Gia: I wouldn't say it's a mask exactly... she's genuine in who she is, she just doesn't show herself off very often.

Ophelia: Her entire persona as Argonaut is a mask - more confident, more daring and decisive, sharp and witty and without all the grief that follows Ophelia around. Any time she's wearing her actuators, she's got that mask up... and sometimes it stays up even when she puts the vest away.

[wearingaberetinparis]

18 and 19 would be nice!!❣️

Thank you very much, anon! 18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Oh, I find this such a difficult question, becaus I'm so critical of my own writing and I rarely ever feel fully satisfied. I also always feel like there's a million better writers in the world. Honestly, I'm quite insecure, even though I try not to show it too often. So, I will say that I really liked this line in Love Is A Lie (And Other Sh*t My Friends Say To Help Me Get By), but won't put any pressure on it by saying it's my favourite:

“I’m just –” he was a little bashful here, “– I’m going to need a daily reminder for a while, I guess. My heart is still bruised and battered, recovering from its return from the battlefield.”

Actually, I'll also include a sillier passage that I like for James' obliviousness from (Didn't I?) (Didn't I?) Didn't I See You Crying? (Even if my fingers do itch to edit this, reading it again, to be honest.)

“I suppose what Moony here is trying to say,” Sirius pointed his thumb at their other friend here, “is that Lily is very, very, very pretty.” His eyes widened, his heart suddenly in his throat as he let out a strangled: “What?” Sirius did not seem sympathetic to his obvious distress. “I’m just saying, you spend lots of hours with her down in the Head’s Common Room and I’m sure that you’ve only been working so far, but –” he shrugged here. As if what he was suggesting wasn’t a big deal, as if it didn’t turn James' entire world upside down. “– why not take advantage of all that alone time?” He gaped at his friend, his eyes flying to Remus, expecting to see him look equally appalled. That wasn’t at all the look that Remus was giving him, however. Strangely enough, he seemed to be watching James closely, as if he were cataloguing ever single emotion that crossed his face. “You’re suggesting that Evans and I –” He couldn’t even finish the thought. It did weird things to him, made his heart flutter in a way that was not within his comfort zone at all. Sure, Evans was pretty. It certainly wasn’t that. He could definitely see the appeal. Come to think of it, he might actually feel the appeal too sometimes. Especially in Potions. For some reason, she looked particularly good when she was truly in her element. He remembered one class the year before – he couldn’t remember exactly which potion they had been working on, it was either Felix Felicis or Amortentia – when he had felt particularly pulled to her. He could still see himself getting up from his seat, his eyes glued to the back of her head, ready to do Merlin knows what when Severus Snape had blocked his path and dumped a vial of Acromantula venom on his hands, which – luckily – only stung for a second, but had had Professor Slughorn up in arms until he had said that he would compensate him for the lost vial. Never mind that Severus Snape was the one to dump it on him, James knew Snape never would (and possibly also never could) replace the ingredient for his Professor. So, yes, he knew she was pretty. Gorgeous even, but she was also Mary Macdonald’s best friend who so clearly – and for a time perhaps deservedly – disliked him that the mere suggestion Sirius was making, and that Remus appeared to be supporting, was utterly ridiculous.

19. Give us a small teaser from one of your WIPs.

This is a snippet from my WIP To All The Kudos I've Left Before:

The dreaded message showed up yet again: You have already left kudos here. :) “No shit, Sherlock,” she muttered under her breath, her sleep-deprived brain – it was 2:34 in the morning and she did have to get up in approximately four hours, after all – always causing her to become far more foul-mouthed than she was on a regular day. “If I wanted you to judge me for bestowing an author with the love they deserve, at least do not have the audacity to include the smiley.”

[iviarellereads]

Wheel of Time full series spoiler thoughts on EOTW 29-38

A probably semi-regular weekly bonus to my reread blog, since sometimes you realize things on reread that just make you need to yell in a full spoiler space.

It's really fun to look back at the stedding as, oh, this is literally a little piece of another dimension. It might've grown the local seeds and supported the local animals, but it is obviously disconnected from the local reality, to block the One Power and all.

So many references to Hawkwing sending armies across the sea, and yet nobody really believes it, or expects the Return.

The farmer gave Rand the dark, plain scarf… and then Rand wears it around his mouth… almost like a… black veil on this Aielman… OK that's a bit too much ellipsis for me to keep going but I had to squint and see if the words really meant what I thought they did.

In Play For Your Supper, one of the songs Rand names is "Coming Home From Tarwin's Gap", now how would a name like that have made it as far as the 2 Rivs?

Rand starts having little thoughts on the road that he can't quite track the source of. "Too late now." in Four Kings, for example. LTT starting to slip in. Or the taint madness, if you prefer that explanation for the hallucinations. Either way.

Ishy treating oblivion as a reward. Cute.

I feel kinda sneaky putting Mili Skane's name down in ch 33. It's kind of a spoiler, we're not told it, but I like tagging the characters that appear, for future searchability. If she ALSO appears later in the series, well, I wasn't lying about the Companion entry.

Almen Bunt reminded me that Elayne's kids could have a stronger claim to the throne than she did, because of the bloodliney shit Andoran nobles use to measure their kin-distance from the first queen, but only if everyone involved admitted Rand's lineage publicly. And, only because it was Rand's body that she conceived with.

Which gets me on to how weird and icky the Moridin body swap is, because besides everything else, we don't talk enough about how the Dark One resurrected Ishy as Moridin into somebody else's corpse, that body's original soul had his own family and life, and first the DO took it to punish Ishy with continued existence, and THEN Moridin and Rand swapped balefires and then bodies so Rand's in some completely random dude's face and genes.

(I only had about 5.5 hours of sleep last night as I write this, can you tell?)

At any rate, EOTW 34 cracks things wide open for any show-firstie who looks at the X-Ray feature or the episode credits. Episode 1x07 lists Tigraine Mantear instead of Shaiel, so when the first season was finished, seeing so many people go back and start reading the books and be like, well hold on now… That was precious and priceless to witness.

“The Queen is wed to the land,” Thom said as brightly colored balls danced in a circle, “but the Dragon . . . the Dragon is one with the land, and the land is one with the Dragon.” For this to appear here, with Almen Bunt, when his next appearance is just after Zen Rand emerges and the Dragon is one enough with the land to offer a bounty of apples from the orchard on Bunt's sister's farm… Same chapter, same day, still sleep deprived, and I need a moment to just sit in this feeling of beautiful symmetry.

No doubt I'll come back to it when the quote comes up, but: Thom was twice Morgase's age when they were together. Given the dates we have as long as the Fandom.wiki is properly sourced because I don't want to go doing extra digging in the Companion and stuff, that means that 14 years ago, Morgase was 27 and Thom somewhere in the 50-60 range, 55 being a solid guess, putting her at 41 and him at 68 around the start of the series. I'm still very, very glad the show agreed with me that there was no need of him being so old, especially when his love interests skew so young, Mo being the exception but she still looks young.

So much of chapter 36 is just "yep, setup." I daren't even start listing or we'll be here all day and this post will be much longer than I try to keep them, even for two-weekers when the first week's not quite long enough to justify a post. But the one that gets me is Rand finding it funny, the idea of him wanting to be a king, when he will end up the de facto ruler of a decent chunk of the Westlands.

37 and 38 do little in the way of setup but to continue setting up just how much Byar's gonna nurse that grudge for the next 12 books or two years. Well, that and finally showing Perrin's golden eyes. Mo asks if this was foretold, and well, we know it was… just not in a prophecy she'd have seen. Verin has, though.

I will say, I prefer how Egg and Perrin rescued themselves in the show, even if the wolf stuff maybe could have been moved forward into season 1 to make it make a little more sense to show-onlys.

And, do we think Mo was Warder-compelling Lan not to go after Nyn? Or just reminding him that it's out of character and out of keeping with his guiding principles? I'd like to think Mo treats Lan better, BUT she does hand off his bond to Myrelle without telling him later soooo…

[cats-of-eden-valley]

Bat anon is back with more weird, niche questions! Since I've hit a bit of a roadblock with my own writing, I was curious, how did you decide what non-feline traits to give to the prides? They're really amazing designs and wonderful worldbuilding, so it caught my eye!

Anyway, on today's episode of "Bat anon's sleep-deprived-brain questions", can the prides make any form of pottery/that kinda stuff? Considering there seems to be plenty of rivers in the Valley, it could be plausible.

Okay last question, I promise, do the prides make alcohol of any kind? Like, I know their society is primitive, but things like fermented fruit juices or mead are surprisingly easy to make if you have the things you need. Or like, imagine the outsiders have some form of alcohol and when Lotus joins the prides, they bring not only societal change, but also booze. It's a funny idea that's been I'm my head all day lmao.

What prompted this question, you ask? I fell down a rabbit hole of easy-to-make alcohol while researching for my own xenomoggy (yes, I am giving my children alcohol. they deserve it after all I've put them through lmao)

Also, I'm glad my questions didn't come off as obnoxious! And don't worry, you'll see me around plenty! I'm like a fae - you invited me into your home, and you'll not be rid of me any time soon! (/j)

Once again, no pressure to answer if you don't wanna! Feel free to tell me if my questions start to get annoying, I don't want to come off as pushy or rude.

Hope you have a beautiful rest of your day/night, and I pray the writing gods bless you with plenty of motivation!

-🦇

The non-feline traits are hard ngl (especially when I realize I. Have to draw them.) but mostly came from the thought of, okay, what would look cool AND theoretically aid their survival and support their niche within the valley

So you get Goldspring, who (used to) work together to get bigger, more dangerous prey. Armoured scaling, epsecially across the chest, not only adds weight (stronger cats, and heavier bodies to escape from) but protection as well

Coldbank are p obvious, they can fully swim with their tails and they are Quite Fast

Bogden hunt on the dark side of the Valley, where the cliff casts a shadow and makes it colder and darker, so i threw some owl in there (and weasel, when i get back to drawing them)

Windswept I went round and round on. I'd originally thought kangaroos but in the end I decided it departed too much from the Cat Body Plan, so I changed it to hare, with a sprinkling of vulture

Lotus and Petra took a bit to settle on as well, but i very much am happy with the feathers. I'll have to have a think about where a lineage like that came from

and then any other outsiders I have more freedom to just wing it, though I do know about some of the small populations that live outside of Eden, like the mountain cats

--

Yes to pottery, big yes! Pottery is seen in Bogden and Coldbank, less so in Goldspring (who prefer weaving) but they still trade for it. Windswept like being able to pick up and go, so you almost never see pottery there

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ALCOHOL i mean!! man I haven't thought about it (I've thought more about plants that they might smoke, which granted isn't much either fjfj)

Honestly I'd have to do research but if there was justifiable means and desire/usage/purpose I'd def incorporate it at least somewhere

Maybe...Maybe mountain cat booze...