#can't wait for him to come back

[bap-ftw]

Questions&Answers: Private Yoo Youngjae Edition. 

[cutest-bunny-writings]

Has anyone seen the thing about Jin buying like 15 dishes at a time and sharing them with his unit members??? Precious😭

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 74

When a new black-haired blue-eyed person appeared in the manor, one could easily be forgiven for thinking that Bruce’s adoption problem had struck again. So color many a batkid surprised that no, this kid isn’t a new sibling, no he didn’t get grabbed from the street, and actually he’s here for Alfred. Apparently Alfred never found it important to mentioned that he has a husband- that the kid kind of implies isn’t human what with the casual way he says he himself is half human- and that this kid is apparently their child. For once it’s Bruce’s turn to come home to a surprise sibling. 

Danny on the other hand just learned that his Clockpa has a semi-mortal partner who has offered to take him in, (in another dimension even! And there’s aliens!!) while the ancient takes care of some stuff at home. And yeah it’s in a rich-manor but Sam has proved that not all rich people are evil, and based off of Mr Pennyworth’s stories the Waynes weren’t bad either. Though based off of the others’ reactions perhaps he should wait to mention that there wasn’t one new family member but three…

[stevebabey]

you thought it would be all sweetness??? nooo u got to have a little miscommunication angst before anyone gets any hickies. but they will. in time >:) part one. part two. this is a part three :)

Steve blames it all on the clock.

That stupid cuckoo clock on the wall of the Munson trailer. It's an absolute horror of interior design that would make Steve’s mom shiver if she ever laid eyes on it. It’s probably why Eddie loves it — and the god-awful cuckoo! noise it makes when it goes off.

Because the moment Eddie utters that delightful question, asking for a hickie, the nerve of him, Steve loves it — and Steve is more than ready to oblige him — the stupid clock goes off.

It gives them both a fright, Steve more than Eddie. He gives a whole-body twitch that shifts them both, his head snapping to the wall, a breath forced out of his lungs at the sight of the mustard-coloured bird. Shit. Stupid fuckin’ clock, Steve thinks.

But it seems to break the trance over the room. The sweet tension of their shared closeness is sucked out of the room in an instant. Steve is suddenly aware of the time the popping out bird is announcing. It’s late. Far later than Steve intended to stay over, especially considering work tomorrow.

Without meaning to, the prickle under Steve’s skin rolls through his body. It steals away the comfort that he usually feels with Eddie, tenseness filling his body. Steve hates it — hates how he can’t stop himself from tensing up beneath Eddie.

Eddie notices. He's quick to to retract himself from Steve, pushing up and back, giving Steve his space. He sits beside Steve on the couch, still close. Not close enough to touch.

It helps. The rigidness of Steve's body relaxes just a bit but Steve doesn’t want that. He wants Eddie back on him. Wants his hands gripping Steve’s side. His breath fanning over Steve’s face, cheeks cherry red and pupils blown wide. Steve doesn’t say any of that and he sure is shit isn't brave enough to ask for it.

Instead, he croaks, “It’s late.”

Steve reluctantly pushes himself up from his slumped position, eyes already searching for his scattered shoes. He misses the way Eddie’s face falls, the way he tries to tug his hair in front of his face to hide the hurt. It takes another second to school his expression.

Steve hears a cough and then Eddie agrees with a murmur. “Yeah, sure.”

The words ache. No part of Steve is relieved to have Eddie agree with him. He’s not sure what he wanted; for Eddie to egg him to stay just a little while longer? To prove that their kisses hadn’t been a heat of the moment impulsivity? There's nothing to prove they weren't.

No, it was Steve who said he had to go. It is late. But then again maybe, Eddie wanted him to leave. But, no— Eddie just asked for a hickie, he wouldn’t—

“Don’t you have work early tomorrow?” Steve’s spiral cuts short at Eddie’s voice, tinged with… irritation?

O-kay. Now Steve’s not sure what to think. What had been the source of immense joy because Steve had asked for a kiss and Eddie said yes is suddenly… tilted.

The beginnings of embarrassment begin to cling to Steve like a thick fog. He’s done it again. Been overly eager. Asked for too much, too soon— fuck, that had been Eddie’s first kiss too.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, standing and shoving his foot into the one shoe he can find. He spies the other one under the table and wiggles it out with his toe. He can’t find in it to look at Eddie, not just yet. “Yeah, uh, I should get going.”

It’s all wrong. Steve shouldn’t be leaving — not on these terms. Not when he can’t look at Eddie for fear of what he’ll find. Regret? Steve’s not sure if he could face Eddie again, not if there’s even a trace of it on his face. It would feel like Halloween all over again, a bludgeon on Steve’s too-soft heart. It’ll crumble, he just knows it.

Steve wants to stay. He really wants to. He wants to ask for another kiss, ask for a dozen more kisses. Wants to give the hickie Eddie asked so nicely for and receive one back; matching love bites, like a gentler version of their matching twisted scars adorning their sides.

But he’s always asking for more. Steve always needs more. It’s greedy. It’s embarrassing how much he wants it, how he’s already gotten patient touches from Eddie but it’s not enough. Eddie had sounded a pinch annoyed — even aggravated at Steve.

It doesn't cross his mind that it might be for any other reason. Really, Steve thinks he’s doing Eddie a favour.

“Um,” Steve clears his throat, takes the wobble out of his words. Nods to himself and chances a glimpse at Eddie. The older is staring down at his lap, locks of hair trapped between twitchy fingers. They should talk about it. Steve’s not brave enough to risk his heart tonight.

“Well, g’night.” He says quietly, letting himself out the trailer door. He closes it behind him gently, shoes tapping against the stairs on the way down. It feels wrong, it feels wrong — but it would be selfish to turn back.

He repeats the sentiment over and over, raspy whispers beneath his breath as he climbs into his car. It would be selfish. The engine turns over and he hesitates for just a moment, hoping to catch a silhouette in the kitchen window. It’s empty. Of course, it’s empty.

Of course, Eddie is not chancing for a glance at him on his way out because Steve just asked for more and more and more, and he took Eddie’s first kiss and then— He whispers it to himself again. It would be selfish to turn back.

When he thinks about it on the drive home, Steve’s sure it all comes back to that stupid fucking clock.

-

Eddie stares in the mirror.

He’s not sure why he was so convinced there would be some radical change in him upon popping his make-out cherry but… well, here he was. Staring in the mirror like he had this morning. Except 10 hours earlier, he had been unkissed.

Tonight, the difference shows. His lips are rosier than usual, a swell to them given by hasty sweet kisses. It’s the only evidence of his spit-sharing moment of passion with Steve on the couch. The rosy colour is already beginning to fade.

Eddie sinks his teeth in. He doesn’t want the only physical proof that he even got to kiss Steve to be gone so soon. Even if that fact seems terribly bitter now.

“What the shit did you do, Munson?” He murmurs to himself in the tiny bathroom mirror.

It’s got toothpaste specks splayed across it. Eddie stares past them. Stares into his own face, reading every change in his features as emotions inside him churn. It’s heading for a distraught expression, the upturn of his brows and quiver in his lips giving him away. He always was a crier. Eddie really wishes he wasn’t.

“Idiot!” He pairs the word with a bang on the wall beside the mirror, frustration leaking out. The toothbrush on the sink shudders in its cup with a clink.

Eddie hates the welling in his eyes. He hates that he ruined the first fuckin’ good thing to happen to him in this town. Loathes that he drives away the first person who actually knows him and still wants to kiss him.

Well, wanted to kiss him.

Eddie’s pretty sure Steve scampering out of the trailer is more than a big enough sign. It’s a blazingly bright neon sign — light up words that say ‘This was a mistake!’

Except, it hadn’t felt at all like a mistake to Eddie. It had felt wonderful, better than anything he had thought, the soft curve of Steve’s lips, the grip on his hands on Eddie’s face, the heat in his face, the— Eddie growls, wiping his hand down his face to shake the thoughts. Too good to be true was what it was.

It’s because of what he said. Of what he asked for. It had to be that. But— but Steve had looked eager and almost excited and then the stupid clock had gone off, scaring the shit out of them both. Maybe it was then that Eddie’s words had sunk in and Steve realised what he’d gotten into— and who he’d gotten into it with.

“You had to ask for more, huh?” Eddie scolds himself angrily, wiping his cheeks harshly when a tear streaks free. Another follows, just as fast. Eddie wipes roughly at his face to clear them. Doesn’t care about the streaks of red he leaves on his cheeks. Another trembling reprimand comes out. “You just had to push it, huh? You fuckin’ idiot.”

Eddie can’t stand his reflection anymore. He tears his gaze away as he spins and heads straight for his room.

The button on his stereo is sticky and it takes a few forceful clicks to turn it on, but when he does, he cranks it. It’s loud enough he’ll surely wake some neighbours. Eddie can’t find it in him to care, not even when the neighbours dog starts off with its incessant barking. Anything to stop hearing himself cry.

-

“Something’s up with Eddie.” is the first thing Robin says when she comes in the front door.

Steve’s mid-yawn when she does, a result of a night of tossing and turning, and he somehow manages a strange choke at her words. In a haste to shut his mouth, he chomps on his fingers covering his mouth — then hisses, pulling it away from his face. He ignores Robin’s perplexed expression, shoving the hand deep in his pocket. His ears feel a tad hotter.

“What? Why? What makes you think that?” Steve asks the questions in rapid succession. Very chill, he chides himself. At this rate, Robin would have him all figured out 10 minutes into their shift.

And it’s not like— well, Robin’s advice is usually great. A bit cut-throat, sure. She doesn’t have a problem trodding on his feelings on her way to tell him the hard truth. Usually, it’s fine. Steve could probably do with a bit of ego-bruising.

Today, he’s… It’s different. That’s what Steve tells himself. This thing with Eddie, he wants to fix it himself. And with too much meddling from Robin’s advice, even if it was with the best intentions, might mix things up too much. It’s hard enough keeping his half-baked apology that’s been brewing since last night in proper order in his mind.

Thankfully, Robin doesn’t comment on his odd demeanor. She just bustles into the back room — there are a couple sounds of her dumping her stuff. When she comes back out the front, she’s fixing her Family Video vest. It looks perfectly straight to Steve.

He checks his own — it’s sitting askew, part of the collar flipped over. He hastily fixes it, running his hands down the front to smooth it a bit.

“Just,” Robin starts, talking as she sits in front of the computer, beginning to take a crack at the admin she managed. She likes doing things as she talks, Steve knows. Helps keep her from letting words run away from her.

Steve’s thankful for it now because she isn’t looking at him when she says, “I think he might have had a bad nightmare last night, or something of that sort. I don’t know. Maybe I’m way off — you know how I am with trying to read people, Steve. I’m not good at it! But when I saw him, he just seemed…”

Robin seems to take an extra moment to deliberate her word choice. Steve’s really glad she’s still facing the computer so she can’t see the myriad of emotions that show on his face.

“…Off.” is the word she decides on.

Which means bad. Steve feels like he’s swallowed a stone. It sinks deep into his stomach. It burns, sour and scorned, twisting up his gut. It means Eddie is bad — it means disappointment, means he regretted it. That Steve had been right; that he’d been too eager, too soon. Too much.

Right. Of course, this happens again. Really, Steve had brought it on himself by asking for so much. It had been one thing to ask for a hug — who actually has to do that? — and then to expect he might get Eddie to kiss him too? What a overstep. Christ, he's an idiot.

“That’s not…” He hears himself say, still lost in his thoughts. It's only when Robin turns on the stool, brows raised, that Steve realises he hasn’t finished his sentence. “Good. That’s not good. To hear.”

Steve turns and starts shuffling around the films on the returns cart, picking them up at random. He stares at a copy of ‘The Princess Bride’ in his hands, a new release, and forces out a causal question.

“What made you think that?” He asks, shoving the film into an empty slot, like he was arranging them. He’s relieved when Robin’s clicking on the keyboard resumes, along with a dramatic sigh.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can be trusted to read anyone’s emotions correctly at any given time, honestly. Remember that old lady? I thought she was being sweet that whole time and then you told me she was being rude! And I couldn’t even tell…”

Robin’s ramble is comforting and helpful to Steve in a way he didn’t know they could be. He presses the cart out, finally getting a move on with it, but delivers a quick nod to Robin when she’s looking to let her know he’s still tuned in. He listens to her get distracted by another topic and leaves Eddie’s name in the dust. It’s a silent relief.

It’s a task to multi-task, listening and devising a plan, but Steve has all shift to find the balance. It’s sometime between finishing re-stocking the action section and starting the romance that Steve decides he should apologise. He should go over today and apologise.

Eddie’s a big boy but Steve’s fairly certain now, if he regretted it, Eddie had probably felt obliged to kiss him back. Probably hadn’t minded the first kiss but- but— Something sticks in his brain; it was Eddie’s first kiss.

It makes Steve feel worse. It doesn’t matter, really, Steve should say sorry for all of it. God, he’s such an idiot.

By the time he’s clocked out, it’s all set in place. He’s got a dozen different apologies running in a loop in his head, reciting the words in time with his anxious tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not a long drive out to Forest Hills Trailer Park. The drive is well-known now. Steve tries hard not to wallow in what he might be losing today. What he lost because he’d been too greedy with want.

The sight of a brown van parked roadside yanks him from his thoughts. Eddie’s van. Steve’s stomach turns, nerves gnawing faster. He slows, trying to catch eye of the other boy as he rolls to a stop behind the van. The sun is beginning to dip closer to the horizon, the temperature going with it.

At the same time, they see each other; Eddie’s head popping around the raised hood to see who had stopped, right as Steve pops his door. Eddie retreats in an instant. Steve's chest grows a bit tighter.

Gravel crunches underfoot as Steve takes a few wary steps closer. It doesn’t take more than a couple before Eddie calls out. He doesn’t bother poking his head out again.

“Go away, Steve.”

Steve swallows thickly. Yeah, okay, he deserves that. He deserves probably worse than that. But more importantly than that, Eddie deserves to hear this. And Steve... needs to not lose Eddie.

“Can I… can we talk?” Steve asks, taking a couple steps closer. A car whizzes by on the road, hidden from Steve's view behind the van. He still keeps his distance, hovering. His hands clench nervously at his sides. Steve shoves them deep in his jean pockets, wiping the sweat off them as he goes.

“What part of ‘Go away’ isn’t clear enough for you?” Eddie snarks back. He still doesn't stick his head out, still won’t look at Steve. It stings.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve starts, another instinctive step forward taken. “I-I just, I shouldn’t have left like I did last night. I wanted to apologise.”

There’s a clattering from behind the hood like Eddie’s dropped a tool. He swears. Steve wants to take another step, wants to see Eddie — wants to read every emotion and apologise for causing any of the ugly ones.

“Well, apology accepted,” Eddie responds. There’s a bite in his words. His next words are grumblier, quieter. “And message fuckin’ received.”

What? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That—” Finally, Eddie steps away from the van, rounding the hood to march up to Steve. His arms cross over his chest, a wrinkle set between his brows that pull his face into a glare. Robin was right; he is off. This isn’t normal Eddie. Fuck, Steve had fucked up bad.

“That means message received, Steve.” Eddie seethes. He uncrosses his arms to gesture wildly. Steve misses the wobble in his bottom lip. “Message received loud and clear! I get it!”

And all Steve wants to ask is: get what? He doesn’t ask that. He should know what. That would be an idiotic question, would make Eddie more irritated. Lord knows, Steve has been enough of a fool in the last day. So, he doesn’t ask.

“Look, I just…” Steve starts, words a bit weak. They die in his throat as he tries to recall a single apology he had practiced all day and comes up empty. “I’m just- I just wanted—look, I’m sorry I took your first kiss!”

It’s not exactly what he means to say, but Steve certainly is sorry for it. Eddie’s expression wavers, some anger slipping away. Confusion takes its place.

“What?” Eddie says with a tone of bafflement. “What are you talking about?”

“And I’m sorry I kept… kept asking for more.” Steve continues on, pulling on the thread inside him, connected to the terrible stone he swallowed earlier. He tugs it. Hopes pulling it will unravel the guilt sitting heavy in his stomach.

Steve scrunches his eyes shut and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I know, okay? I know that I can be a lot.” He sighs and drops his hands.

“But I didn’t mean to… shit,” He wrenches his eyes open. Eddie’s a bit wide-eyed now, brown eyes watching him intently. Steve doesn’t know what expression he’s wearing, can’t tell if it’s good or worse. He continues, soft words scraping out his throat.

“I didn’t mean to be like that with you.”

Eddie searches Steve’s face, eyes darting and wild. He licks his lips. His hands are in motion, fingers twisting rings, quick and fast. It’s a nervous action.

“What do you mean by ‘like that?’” Eddie asks, voice gentler. It's lost its snarl from before.

Steve blinks, a scrape of teeth worrying his bottom lip. He murmurs his admittance lowly, just one word, “Selfish.”

Eddie doesn’t try to hide his surprise; it ripples across his face in a wave. Confusion melts away into something closer to, Steve hopes desperately, relief. Steve can feel his own heart thudding hard inside his chest — can feel the beat it skips when Eddie steps closer.

“Steve?” Eddie says, sounding unlike himself. Steve’s never heard his voice that small. He nods, wordlessly. Eddie searches his face once more — wide brown eyes scanning and devouring. Steve can’t help but do the same.

He drinks in the details of Eddie’s face; the soft scruff along his top lip, the darkness of his lashes and the way they kiss in the corner that Steve adores. The pink of his lips. The familiar ache to kiss Eddie surges up within him, still as violent and strong as it had been the night before.

Steve should really stop looking at Eddie’s lips. He’s supposed to be apologising. He drags his eyes up and meets Eddie’s gaze full-on, prepared for whatever he might say. Except, he’s not expecting him at all to say;

“Can I... try this again?” It comes out a ragged breath, Eddie's scared eyes conveying the weight behind his words.

And this time Steve doesn't even need to ask what because he knows. Because Eddie's hands are reaching up and holding either side of Steve's face so gently. Steve can't recall a time he's ever been held so softly. His own hands come up slowly, draping around Eddie's wrists to hold them, to keep them there.

Eddie's thumb traces. It draws a sweet line of that familiar fire beneath Steve's skin along til it's settled on Steve's bottom lip, resting. The blood under Eddie's thumb thrums, gloriously warm, aching with want. Yes. Steve thinks. Yes, yes, yes.

"Yes, please." Steve breathes, so sincere the words comes out as a kiss against Eddie's thumb.

So, Eddie kisses him.

now with a part four !

tags below! sry if i tagged u and u didn't want it just tagging everyone who replied <3 @they-reap-what-we-sow @impeachy @anaibis @resident-gay-bitch @ediewentmissing @newtstabber @original-cypher @invisibleflame812 @hunterbow04 @leather-and-freckles @dracoswifeandlokispet @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @lfaewrites @sundead @call-me-big-eyes @the-redthread @goblinmanifesto @etaka @bishopextractions @ketterfuck @persephone13 @beckkthewreck @maya-custodios-dionach @autumnal-dawn @yourstrulyjoko @gleefully-macabre @princess-eddie @savory-babby

[kaztheghost]

I do have to say I think it's a little funny how (in rp!!!) Bad went from being so beloved and trusted and someone you could rely on for anything at any time to being so hated and feared, that even when he tries to just speak people refuse and so now when he's fully embracing the name of the game people are forced to hide from even his presence--players like roier and etoiles, good players, crawling through dirt and stone because above ground is a monster they don't recognize and know will not show mercy, players like Cellbit and Philza who trusted in and thought highly of Bad now speaking of him with scorn and plotting for his downfall, one of his closest friends Baghera softening her tone to manipulate the beast and murmuring misinformation in hopes it'll keep their own alive for a bit longer, their homes safer for just a bit longer, from an island that shined light upon his image to an island that curses the very ground he walks on; and the idea his most active team members are all people who were strained in their relationships with him, people who spat his name previously now shouting kill orders and letting him loose, trusting him with their back in a fight, who trembled in fear now trying to supply any information and materials they can, who were constantly tricked and taunted now being uplifted as the driving force of their team !!!!!!! It's just so freaking good dude I love team soulfire so much

[natelia-aldelliz]

Ghost gifts a single tiny ear loop to Soap one day. Says he noticed Soap had pierced ears. That rings keep from handling a gun or a knife properly. He doesn't make eye contact, tries to hide his face, even as he's already wearing his balaclava.

Soap blinks. Ghost has already given him gifts and only behaved that way for the very first one. He doesn't understand. The earring is very simple, but seems to be made of expensive material and not only covered with a thin leaf of gold.

"Didnae it come with another one?" he says, jokingly.

But Ghost flushes, turns his head, and lifts his mask, only enough for Soap to see the glinting of the other earring on his ear. Suddenly he understands that it's not simply a gift. Ghost favoured practicality, but he wanted to give him a ring.

He grabs his hand as it falls back down.

"Simon, what is this?" he asks softly, not daring to be hopeful just yet.

With his other hand, he reaches out to gently turn Simon's head back towards him. His cheeks and his nose are flushed, it makes the warmth of his dark eyes, generally hidden behind a sneer or a bored expression, undeniable.

He looks nervous. Johnny's heart is beating faster. Could it really be...?

"I know", Simon starts then pauses, uncertain. "I know I'm probably not what you thought you'd have, when you were younger" Soap wants to interrupt, to scoff, to protest that Simon is way better than anyone he could have hoped for, but doesn't. He never wants to cut off his love when he's barely starting to open up.

"I know that I'm not easy to be with some days, that I'm not friendly and easy going like you, like someone you'd deserved to be with." he continues, unconsciously pushing his face more into Soap's hand. "But... I love you, more than I thought I could, and I'd like... I'd like to be with you, for as long as you'd have me..."

Johnny's heart is soaring. He has no idea how to react. He'd have to get all the giddiness out first, and the moment doesn't seem appropriate for jumping around and squealing.

"Officially," Simon continues, voice quieter, out of breath. "If you want to."

A gigantic grin splits Johnny's face. All of his limbs are buzzing, he needs to stand up, to run, to explode something. But he's terrified to spook Simon so instead he just squeezes the hand he's holding rhythmically and moves his feet back and forth.

"Baby, are ye asking me tae marry ye?" Johnny says. He's pretty sure his voice is wobbly, but can't really hear it himself as the blood in his ears is louder than the rest.

Simon's eyes do something, what is visible of his face looks like he has an expression on but Johnny can't analyze it now, doesn't dare to see the hope in his eyes, the pleading in his brows.

"I... Yes, I guess I am," the love of his life says finally. "If you want to. You don't have to."

Soap can't keep himself in check any longer. He's making a high pitched noise, jumping up and down where he's seating on the bed, and throws himself at Simon.

"Of course ah fooking want tae!!!"

Simon lets out an excited giggle, swept in Johnny's mood, and tightens his arms around his lover. No, his fiancé.

This is the best day of his life. He just has to deal with this mission tomorrow, and then they can start to plan everything.

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Tell me your decision already! Don't just stand here without a word! I told you, I'm not a mind reader. I can't magically know what you like or dislike.

[ikram1909]

His little laugh at the end he's so cute 😭😭😭😭😭

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Happy day one of Chatember, starting it off with strong with the Thunderclan (Jin) leader, Jin Guangshan (Lionstar)

(Name and AU credits to @clintbeefwoods!)

[uselessnbee]

what i wish people would also explore more when it comes to Percy is the other side of his feelings about his mom about family and his childhood but this fandom is too afraid to paint Sally even in the slightest bad light (even if it's not bad just acknowledging her flaws because she's a human being and not perfect) that no one will touch on that subject. like yes Sally is the best mom but she also isn't and that's the thing! She isn't perfect! but she tried her best but her best still got Percy hurt and it isn't her fault at all but that's the tragedy of it. i want Percy's feelings about this explored. how he grew up with a loving mom but an abusive step father. how his step father would humiliate him and call him stupid but then his mom soothed him and told him he's not the things Gabe calls him. how Gabe would hurt him and Sally would be there to make him happy and loved but at the same time she stayed with him. i want Percy's feelings explored about how he knows his mother loves him but her absence still hurt him. she would work so much to have money to raise him she did that for him but at the same time it meant Percy was left alone or with Gabe. Sally gave up so much for him, she sent him away to protect him but at the same time he was sent away from his mom. she's the only parent he has because his father is absent and Gabe is not actually a parental figure at all but she's also often absent in his life too and that must have left him with such mixed feelings because it's not all black and white! Sally's love protected him but also hurt him. Percy loves his mom so so so much but there's also this deep-seated bitterness and hurt and anger he never let himself feel and then the guilt for having those feelings because his mom loves him he knows that and she gave up so much for him and she married a monster that abused her to protect him, he knows that but it doesn't make it hurt any less. the mess his emotions are because he knows his mom suffered for him and did it from her love for him but he still desperately wishes she never married that monster that he wouldn't have to have the childhood he had with him that he wouldn't have to live with the trauma he was left with. this all is exactly what makes their relationship so fascinating and also heartbreaking.

or the idea of Percy having weird mixed feelings after Estelle is born because that's his little sister and he loves her with his whole heart and would do anything for her and wants only the best for her but there's also this little jealous monster deep down that wonders why she gets to have a loving mom and a loving dad and a happy normal life but he never got that. why does she deserve it but not him? why couldn't he have that too? doesn't he deserve that too? he was just a child too so why why why??? and then the guilt of feeling that way too it makes me want to scream. emotions are fucking messy and they can be really ugly and they can make you hate yourself and there's no way Percy's feelings aren't a mess when it comes to this and i want to see it explored so badly!

and with Sally too! her feelings about Percy because she did so much and tried her best but sometimes unfortunately your best isn't good enough and it still got her beloved son hurt and she hates it and feels so guilty but she just has to live with that but she can't help to wish it was different. that their lives would be different. better. normal. she can't help but to wish she didn't have to do the things she's done, didn't have to suffer so much just to protect her child. can't help to wish she didn't have to worry so much, didn't have to be so scared about Percy, didn't have to be terrified that one day he won't come back home to her, that she won't be able to hold her son anymore because he will be gone, she just wishes he didn't have to suffer so much, she just wishes and wishes and wishes

and i just wish people weren't so afraid to explore this because it's so heartwrenching and yes if you want something do it yourself but unfortunately i cannot write nor am i able to handle this topic in a way it deserves so i am left only with rambling about it on here thank you

[factorialsotherfandoms]

The eggs are asleep, and finally Philza and Missa can catch a moment to themselves. Unfortunately, catching that moment means admitting to the injuries they have been hiding from their children - fussing over scratches while having arrowheads lodged next to your spine is the duty of a parent on Quesadilla Island, but an exhausting one.

Missa's quick fingers manage to pull said arrowhead from Philza's back, the momentary flash of pain causing him to nearly drop the iodine solution. He doesn't, though, just a little stain on the floorboards, and so he continues applying it to the wound in Missa's leg.

He barely notices the scratch of a needle against his back, but Missa cannot help but whine as the gauze is pressed against his wound.

"I hate it here," Missa manages, thankfully in English as Philza is in no position to twist and see his translator. "Why is everything trying to kill us?"

"The island fucking hates us, is why," Philza grouches, reaching over for a bandage. He's managed to get Missa's leg to stop bleeding, but it should still be covered. "Enjoy the island my ass."

Missa giggles a bit, even as he tapes a dressing in place over the arrow wound. He says something in Spanish which is definitely too fast for Philza to parse; he tries to turn and look, only to be gently pressed back into position.

"It's nothing," Missa assures him. "But the skeletons! Why are they so bad?"

"The skeletons aren't even the worst of it," Philza groans back. "If you ever see glowing eyes and nothing else? Run."

There's a long pause, and Philza hopes that Missa understands the severity of his warning - a Nightmare Stalker is exactly that, and Philza knows Missa is not nearly equipped to handle one. If he struggles as he does, he doesn't want to think about how his partner would suffer in his stead.

"It's okay," Missa pats his shoulder a few times, leaning around his wings to do so. "I'm good at running. It's my special talent!"

"You're good at a lot of things," Philza promises.

Missa doesn't reply; this time when Philza turns, he is allowed to. His entire body aching he sits himself up and twists himself around, taking Missa's face him his hands.

"You are so good," he promises. "So, so good. There's nobody else I would want to raise my eggs with."

There's more on the tip of his tongue; Philza quashes it as Missa closes his eyes, rest of his expression hidden by his mask.

Philza can see Missa struggle with his words for a bit - he's always amazed how someone can make themselves understood in two languages - before eventually receiving, "you are the best egg father."

"We have the best egg child," he retorts.

"We do!" Missa's entire body language perks up. "Chayanne is the best egg child, and he is ours. We are so lucky."

"We really are."

Philza isn't sure when it happens, but eventually he realises that he has leant forward, his forehead resting against Missa's mask. He closes his eyes and savours it, feeling as Missa loosely places his arms across his bare back - Philza needs his for support, one either side of Missa's hips and taking his weight, but otherwise he would do much the same.

The two of them stay in silence for a while, savouring each other's presence. The pain is still there, from protecting their children, and yet... In a simple house of oak and glass, for a moment it is all peace.

"Run away with me."

This is not how Philza had ever meant to bring it up, but the words slip out of their own accord.

Missa startles, eyes wide and spine straight as he blinks himself out of the peaceful haze, "qué?!"

"Run away with me," he shifts so he can see all of Missa's face, taking both of his partner's hands in his own. "Take the children, and run away. Find a way off this island, and to another world - one where the skeletons are the /only/ thing to worry about. I'll build you another house and we'll make it a home. Any colour you like, with a fence and walls and real bedrooms and a kitchen for Chayanne and gardens for Tallulah... You can have your own music room and kick Wilbur out for trying to steal your guitar, and we can sit on the roof in the moonlight and you can sing and I'll dance with the children asleep beneath us and no risk of zombie horsemen on our tail."

"But how-" a small whine catches in Missa's throat. "How do we get away? They said we cannot leave."

"There's always a way to leave," Philza says. "We just have to find it."

There's hands in his wings, and Philza startles.

"Your wings are so big... If they healed, you could fly away," Missa says, something wishful in his tone. "Up and up and far, far away, so far they could never catch you."

"And leave you behind?" he asks.

"You'd come back for Chayanne. And I... I could follow you then?"

"Even if something happens to Chayanne, I'd come back for you," Philza promises. "I won't leave you here, not in this hell."

"You wouldn't leave anyone here, if you could help it."

"Probably," Philza admits. "But I wouldn't come back for them, not if I didn't know I could escape again - I'd come back for you."

"I'll wait for you," Missa seems almost to melt in Philza's touch, whimpering as he curls in on him. Philza isn't even sure what he said wrong, just that his egg partner is clinging to him, whimpering.

"We might not always be together," he tries to reassure. "But I will always come back for you - I'll always find you. There's no point in running away if we don't run away together; if some day I /can/ fly away, I'd only do it to come back with help."

The whimpering turns to sobbing, and Philza adjusts his position to hold Missa properly. The hands in his feathers dig deep - one finger catches on some tape holding one of the litany of dressings in place - but Philza just holds Missa and worries.

Why this reaction? Was it something he said?

He stops talking just in case; Missa clearly wants a hug, so he just holds him, understanding only odd words of the broken fragments of Spanish between the sobs.

Eventually the tears slow; Missa pulls away, still sniffling.

"And... Spreen can come?"

"He can live next door, if he wants," Philza promises; it'll be a little hard to negotiate with Fit, but interpersonal drama is just a part of life. "A whole new town for /everyone/ - all of the islanders, and all of our friends. Maybe if we let his ex in Forever will even stop hitting on me."

That earns a laugh, if a bit of a wet one.

"I want to dance with you," Missa says.

"With no zombie riders," Philza promises. "Maybe tomorrow we could dance a bit at the Favela? But, one day, we'll do it somewhere safe."

"On the roof, under the moon?"

"I'll make a roof specially designed for it."

The tears slow some more, and Missa drops to actually lie on the bed.

"Do you really think we'll escape?" Missa turns to Philza and asks. "We broke the Wall, and the Federation-"

Philza moves to lie beside him - on his front while Missa is on his back - and takes a hand. "We will. I promise."

"But-"

"Someone cleverer than us will work it out," he smiles to Missa. "We've just got to survive while they do."

"And if they don't?"

"Then I'll burn the Federation to the ground."

[pumpkinrootbeer]

just so you know I'll never recover from the ending of magi like yeah in general it left me devistated but Jafar's final appearance being him back in the sindria robes still with this just steadfast never ending belief in a man who he devoted his life to and who then in return betrayed him on such a fundamental level. like im gutted.

[twpsyn-who]

I love the idea of Marco having lots of siblings. Him talking about them to Jean, getting letters from them with all the silly things they have been doing in his absence ; just him being a big brother you know? And Jean always being a little jealous of those letters because he only has his mom and her letters are nothing short of embarrassing.

And and Marco mentioning Jean so often in his letters that at some point they began writing to him too.

And and you know them still writing to Jean even after Marco's death. The Bodt siblings slowly loosing contact with Jean, as he's too busy with the consequences of finding about the outside world.

...

Jean showing up at the Bodt residence once everything is over. All the siblings getting excited over seeing Jean, happy to see him after so long. Them talking over each other while trying to get Jean's attention. Jean looking at them with a soft, tired smile on his face and thinking of Marco.

[moonchild-in-blue]

ii and iii wore what?

ii and iii did WHAT??

VESSEL?? DID WHAT???

TF IS UP CHICAGO, DID THE BEAN™ BLESS THE AIR OR SMTH??

[raayllum]

I will say one of the funniest things ever is that I was figuring Callum to be less devotional than canon has actually made him in arc 2, purely because I always figured that if Rayla kept pulling her self sacrificial bullshit (see numerous instances in s4) Callum would eventually be like "I can't do/love you like this anymore" and leave out of self preservation, and then 4x09's "I know" came along and said no, he would never actually leave her over this, and that's fucking insane to me but I love that for him

[ikram1909]

Gavi's recovery is going well 😭😭🎉🎉🎉🎉