#enjoy the doe hunter crumbs >:]]

[rhonissancee]

𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍 [by the Smiths]

TW: it's not too intense (my art style won't allow it) but just in case!! Blood and injury.

Notes !

Bigmouth strikes again >> ugh I love this song with all of me, y'all should definitely give it a listen!! Ik I said I wouldn't give away major things (so I'll give easter eggs instead !! It's noticeable if you observe the drawing anyways heuehue. If you want to find it yourself then don't read the bullet points >:), if you noticed it at first glance HEAL YEAH)

Firstly the relevance of the lyrics. Idk it just matched them really HAHSHHAH. But if you noticed 'smash every tooth in your head' and compare the Bear trap in the beginning to the end, you'll notice that it's 'teeth' isn't as sharp and the cracks on it (also if it wasn't obvious the snare represents Hickory! The cracks can also be shown on his glasses at the last panel)

Secondly, why apples? I thought it was fitting because deers like them ! (also because— remember how sometimes cooked animals are served with an apple in their mouths? Yes. Erm) + Also because of the quote 'an apple a day keeps the doctor away' (just unfortunately for Atticus it doesn't work TT)

Thirdly, you'll notice that as the panels progress, Atticus loses their 'eye sparkle' thing and Hickory gains his own. I won't elaborate on it teehee.

I CANT POINT OUT THE REST BECAUSE THAT'LL GIVE ME AWAY HAHAHAH BUT THERE ARE MORE, Y'ALL ARE WELCOMED TO FIND THEM and send me an ask regarding them *I'll be waiting*+ you can try to piece the semblance of lore crumbs HDJSHDJS. I swear it'll all be (sort of) clarified when the masterlist drops (which might be never atp because I have no motivation whatsoever)

[freaktoru]

Hi, I'm actually a new follower I love your Igris bf head cannons, I'm not if you've done Manager Woo, 👉👈 I'm a sucker for this man.

✰ pairing: woo jinchul x reader ✰ summary: what woo jinchul would be like as your boyfriend! ✰ warnings: smut, fluff a/n: yk what...ur onto something with him. i hope i did a good job of characterizing him! sadly we get literal crumbs of him in the anime and manhwa but regardless enjoy <333 likes and reblogs always appreciated!

hes a go-getter, he knows what he wants and he will not stop at anything to get it.

in this case, it's you.

he'll be the one to ask you out and he'll take you on a date, somewhere really nice in the city.

super straight forward and bold, he will be the one to ask you to be his significant other

this man works like there's no tomorrow, he's always at the office, always in a meeting or even at home he's always WORKING.

it kinda pisses u off... but he gets that bank soooo you don't complain

likes expensive things

lives in a super modern penthouse apartment in the heart of seoul and drives a super expensive sleek black car

i mean being the right hand man of the chairman of the hunters association does have it's perks right?

spends his lunch breaks only with you <3

his coworkers want to have lunch? hell no. he's spending every spare minute he has with you.

lovessss when you visit him at work and bring him food or coffee to his office!!

a city man at heart.

really likes exploring coffee shops with you

and shopping omgggg he loves to buy you expensive jewelry and nice clothes.

his baby gotta look good next to him.

while he's straight forward and all his communication style can be kind of confusing. he comes off as super blunt and direct and unknowingly hurts your feelings sometimes

but don't worry, if he does, he'll apologize for it later by eating you out.

doesn't like to cook, he's a takeout kind of guy but if you cook him food? he'll be on his knees within minutes.

very very protective. always has a hand on your waist in public, or always touching you in some way to make sure no one can hurt you while he's not looking!

his love language is definitely gift giving and physical touch

buys you flowers AT LEAST once a week

and you know they're the most expensive ones too...

really likes showering together. it does not count as a good shower if he has to do it alone.

he's got really healthy habits and loves sticking to a routine.

morning run, workouts after work, healthy food, protein shakes you name it he probably incorporates it into his busy schedule somehow. tbh he's so inspirational.

likes when you practice these habits with him!! like going to the gym together :p and fucking in the locker room

hates deviating from his routine, i think he's kinda anal about how and when things are done.

just be consistent with the man that's all he asks

but despite his serious demeanor he is so lovey and sweet <3

very cuddly and loves spending his weekends cuddling up on the couch together to watch movies

likes having an arm wrapped around you when he sleeps.

feeling sad? he'll give you the best, most tender hugs.

super great at comfort. he's super direct but also great at knowing when you want solutions vs when you just want to rant (we need more men like him fr.)

onto the spice:

has insane stamina and a HIGH sex drive.

a bit of an exhibitionist

likes semi-public sex, hes just not patient enough to wait until you two get home

OFFICE SEX! fucks you rough on his desk late at night.

thigh riding. fucking loves having you ride his thigh like a needy puppy when he's working.

"keep it goin' baby you're doing well" his warm whisper hits the shell of your ear and sends light shivers of pleasure down your spine. you're desperately rubbing yourself against his thigh, needing more than just the friction from his nice, expensive dress pants. but he won't give it to you. no, he likes you all worked up and fucked out BEFORE he even thinks about putting his dick inside of you. "jinchul e-enough, just fuck me already" you whine between sobs, pushing and pounding your curled up fist on his chest. but he doesn't take well to whiny, needy brats like you. "i told you to be patient" he grabs hold of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. "do that again and i won't be so merciful" he whispers, his voice low and seductive, before turning back to his computer to work.

lmfao i'm down bad

anyways

he's lowkey a fucking freak. he appears to be so locked into his job and so serious all the time but that man needs to get that pent up stress and anger out somewhere.

you're his favorite outlet <3

huge fan of morning sex before work. he claims it gets him going for the day lol

even if you don't have to wake up as early as him he will wake you up with a cock in your warm, wet pussy and fuck you slow and good in missionary.

this is your favorite way to wake up.

also really likes car sex. after every date, any grocery run, honestly anytime you're in the car with him the two of you will fuck.

HUGE fan of blowjobs. SUCK THIS MAN OFF!!!

remember how i said he likes showering with you? well obviously that entails shower sex. he will fuck you so good against those expensive, marble, shower tiles of his.

[formulafics]

★ BABY, JUST SAY YES | LS2

Scenario: its no secret that logan sargent isn’t single, but one thing that no one can quite figure out - not even his co workers - is who the mystery girl is. logan doesn’t reveal who until she’s no longer his girlfriend, but his wife. (requested)

Pairing: logan sargeant x fem!popstar!reader

A/N: it’s taken me 4 days of writers block to get this one figured out, but she is finally here! i hope everyone enjoys! <3

logansargeant

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, and 233,567 others

logansargeant the flight is always worth it to be with her

view all 2,345 comments

sargeantformula another day, another soft launch from logan 😔 when does the pain end?

logansgirl HE LOOKS SO GOOD

formulogan so either logan plays guitar or his gf plays guitar 🧐

⤷ norizzlando i thought that i could figure out something by looking at the music sheets but it’s beatles songs, and i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney

⤷ alexalbonooo23 STOP IT FHIS COMMENT IS KILLING ME 😭 “i doubt logan is dating paul mccartney”

logansargeant

liked by oscarpiastri, alex_albon, maxverstappen1, and 356,789 others

logansargeant summer dump

view all 3,457 comments

alex_albon getting a little to close to using @/georgerussels tactics

rizzciardo logan pls just tell us who it is 😔 do it for your fans

⤷ norrisnation DO IT FOR AMERICA

formulaobssesed why is logan kinda…

⤷ sargeantformula YOURE JUST LEARNING THIS? HES BEEN FINE

sargeantnation THE FIRST PICTURE HELLO YOU LOOK SO GOOD

ls2sargeant okay, but WHO is in the second picture? 😭

logansargeant

in love

liked by alex_albon, lilymhe, oscarpiastri, and 124,678 others

logansargeant

view all 2,467 comments

formulanorris the location being “in love” is sickening

⤷ piastrizz no literally i want want what him and his gf have

williamillion ITS NOT FUNNY ANYMORE LOGAN

godblessls2 boy if you don’t just drop her @ rn

loscargirlie logan you wanna drop her @ sooooo bad rn

logansargeant and ynlnsargeant

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri, landonorris, and 467,892 others

logansargeant so glad my baby said yes. happy one year, my beautiful girl.

view all 5,678 comments

ynsworld LOGAN IN RHE MIDDLE OF YNA FUCK I G CONCERT???

oscarpiastri happy anniversary ❤️

⤷ rizzciardo loscar crumbs �� i love them

alex_albon happy anniversary! love you guys.

formulasargeant LOGAN WHAT????

piastrizz LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT I SWEAR TO GOD

ynfannacc the caption. not okay, young man.

⤷ godblessls2 LMAOO THIS COMMENT IS SO FUNNY FOR NO REASON

rizzciardo the mesh of logan and yn fans in the comments is so funny to me 😭

loscargirlie I KNOW I BEGGED YOU MULTIPLE TIMES TO DROP THE @ BUT COME ON LOGAN

ynlnsargeant

liked by logansargeant, lewishamilton, alex_albon, landonorris, and 789,367 others

ynlnsargeant what a night. thank you to everyone who came out tonight, i am so grateful for your support. on a side note, happy anniversary to my love, @/logansargeant. one year down, forever to go. 🫶🏻

view all 6,789 comments

logansargeant i love you so much baby.

⤷ ynlnsargeant i love you more. thanks for coming out tonight ❤️

ynsguitar the end of an era - she changed her username

⤷ ynloverforlife ITS SO CUTE 😭 she and logan are actually so cute together i can’t even be sad

ynsworld simultaneously extremely happy for you and feeling like my heart has been ripped out. ilysm </3

ynsnumberone i cannot believe i witnessed this kiss in real time

⤷ formulasargeant i have no idea how you survived because me personally? that would be the end

danielricciardo NO WAY. happy anniversary!

⤷ rizzciardo DANIEL WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE LMAO

⤷ sargeantformula apparently only oscar, lando, and alex knew about their relationship. oscar was the only one who went to the wedding 💔 (not to mention daniel has always liked yn’s music)

all feedback is appreciated! thank you for reading <3 - daelynn

general taglist | @renarots (special shoutout to her for always fueling the brainrot for these fics) @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @harrysdimple05 @illicitverstappen @lovstappen @minkyungseokie

[deepcoraldragon]

Ccs publicly supporting Tommy & Tubbo and/or against Dream: a condensed list

A few days ago, I started a masterlist compiling every content creator (and other notable figures in the community) that I could find who reacted to the Dream-calls-inniters-the-r-slur-and-subsequent-crashout incident.

But since I updated the list in real time as new people reacted, and since I tried to include at least one (1) screenshot per person, it got messy and very long to scroll through. So here’s the organized, clean, final-ish version

Note 1: Take the categories with a grain of salt because I had to sort A Lot of different reactions from different contexts in like… less than 10 boxes. Which I failed at, by the way, there's 12. The "against Dream" category in particular has a big spectrum from jokey to serious. To know what people specifically said, refer to the other list, it has screenshots for almost everyone, or message me.

Note 2: this is wayyy more ccs than I could reasonably keep tabs on, so keep in mind people might've discussed the situation more than I was aware of, or generally could be in a different category. Also, reminder that this is only about what they said/did publicly from January 10th to 20th. Here goes

Directly and specifically discussed the situation

Tubbo (duh)

Sneegsnag

Ludwig

Robbo

AverageHarry

Purpled

Jack

In support of T&T and against Dream

MaxGGs

Aimsey

Bitzel

Dean Withers

Snifferish

Kara Corvus (I think)

Seapeekay

Jameskii

SophieTexas

ConnorEatsPants

Molly (melinks)

Yammy

Scott Smajor

Mysticat

CoyPiso

Pokimane

Kaceytron

Nan_dre

Pangi

ItsZoil

Raegan Revord, aka SettingSunset

Shayy

Jonnayy

In support of T&T

Philza

Shelby Shubble

RosannaPansino

James Marriott

WadZee

Étoiles

JojoSolos

Izethetic

Billzo

Roscumber (to aimsey)

MythicalSausage (to aimsey)

Daniel Howell

Phil Lester

BBNO$

Spoke against Dream (critics, jokes, etc.)

Ranboo

Kwite

Krinios

Its_blarg

Michael McChill

tapL

a6d

Mithzan

KyleEff

CG5

Martyn Inthelittlewood

Camman18

MunchingBrotato

BoomerNA

Valkyrae

Saltydkdan

Winner of the idgaf war

Quackity

Joked about the situation

Roier

Deadlox

CaptainPuffy

Possibly Crumb

Derivakat promoted her music does that count?

Ba Sing Se update

The rat bot

Santa decides

Reaction videos

Adam McIntyre

Louis McClung

Omni

PyroLIVE

Ludwig’s ex-roommates and co-podcasters

Neutral / unclear / staying out of it

Welsknight

xBCrafted

HannahRose

Vikkstar

Badboyhalo

Soupforeloise

Unfollowed Dream

Joel smallishbeans

Jimmy (solidaritygaming)

CubFan

Lizzie (LDShadowlady)

Editors & co.

Larry (talentlacking)

Yahiamice

Lettucesandwich

ArchieMcW

PepsB

Connor (ne0neclipse)

NoGoodDavis

Connie (luvconnies)

Hunter-hhhh

Alyssa

Animagician

Vinni2003

Lily (spxcelily)

Kit (reinfalllz)

VC-david (VCTF_)

Rudy (Rudylmaolive)

Lurkers

Antfrost

Freddy Badlinu

Guqqie

Aypierre

EvanMcGaming

Kristin

Niki Nihachu (probably)

Jonnay

Fundy

VelvetIsCake

Sapnap

Im a Squid Kid

Captainsparklez

Fitmc

Firebreathman

Lee_500

CaptainPuffy

Bekyamon

Crumb cuptoast

Oli TheOrionSound

Owengejuicetv

Ollie Highkeyhateme

Krowfang

Michela

YoItsGold

Spideyarmy

Apokuna

Prezoh

[and several more people]

Not ccs

Sarah Simons (Tommy’s mom)

Aby Manifold (Jack’s dad)

Andi (andivmg, Punz’s ex)

Hannah (25hamjam, Sneeg’s wife)

I know I made the list but Wow that is a lot of people

Hopefully I didn't misspell anyone's name but at this point... This already took way too long. Thanks again to the people who sent me tips and insider info!

Once again, full post is here, hope you enjoyed, bye!

[tarithenurse]

The thorn

Fandom: Spy X Family Pairing/starring: Yor x Loid Forger Word count: 727 Content: Spy work, murder (nothing detailed), suspicions. A/N: I’m not entirely sure what this is except...what if one of the Forgers found out about the other? Unbetaed as usual. Reblog if you want a part two.

The thorn

He knows she isn’t aware of him. How could she be? His disguise is flawless, his mannerisms changed in the most subtle of ways that nothing could even hint at his real identity.

But Yor...yes, she’s different but he would recognize that face everywhere. The silken hair. Even dressed as she is, though, it’s the confidence with which she carries herself that strikes him the most. Gone is the adorably awkward woman he has gotten to know and even – although he would never admit it to himself – love. The Yor at the other end of the ballroom is a force of nature.

Trying to refocus on the conversation of the dignitaries surrounding him, Loid does keep tabs on her, though. Witnessing as she crosses the floor and effortlessly engages in conversations with diplomats and millionaires.

But something is off.

It’s not the pang of annoyance when a young gentleman asks for and is granted a dance with Yor. Nor is it the fact that she floats effortlessly along to the music in that man’s arms. It takes embarrassingly long time for the spy known as Twilight to realize that the alarm bells in his mind are ringing because of Yor’s gaze as she regards the people in the room.

A hunter.

“Excuse me,” Loid mumbles, lips stiff from the prosthetic mask.

Leaving the company behind, he winds his way closer to the dance floor and smoothly cuts in as Yor and her dance partner comes twirling by.

It feels good to have her in his arms even if he can never admit it. But it feels better, when he notices the hunting gaze zones in on someone and he can turn them and identify who: a journalist. An Ostanians journalist who has been writing some dangerously pro-Westalian sentiments.

Curious what her mission is, Loid allows her to guide their steps closer and closer to the unsuspecting journalist. Loid – Twilight – could interfere...but the journalist is not his protege, not his mission...Yor is now.

It happens in slow motion and with his back to the journalist, Loid can’t be truly certain but he’d sensed the flick of her finger more than seen it. Instead he saw her gaze. Cold. Highly intelligent. And as they waltz away again, there’s the sound of a body hitting the floor and Loid doesn’t have to see to know what it means. His eyes are locked now with Yor’s.

That’s his mistake.

Even if she doesn’t know who he is, she recognizes that he knows what she just did.

To hell with it, he thinks as Yor begins to slip from his grasp.

“Yor,” he whispers.

She’s frozen for nothing more than a split second. Then she’s gone.

Loid would never swear and anyone seeing him now would certainly not believe the colourful explicits that are running through his mind now...but he is torn because as much as he would like to, he can’t abandon his current mission until his protege is safely on his way home. At the very least it might not be long as the party seems to be coming to a close with the sudden and inexplicable death of a journalist.

---

When Loid lets himself into the shared home of him, Yor, and Anya, he finds that the latter has been put to bed already by Franky who now is enjoying a cup of coffee with Yor. A plate of store-bought cookies stand on the low table and crumbs on Franky’s stomach speak of him at least having enjoyed some. Yor’s coffee is untouched.

It’s easy enough to get Franky to leave without causing suspicion. It’s harder to act normal around Yor as she chatters mindlessly about Anya’s day and her own work at the office and Loid has to admit that he’s impressed: he never would have guessed if it wasn’t for seeing Yor at the even tonight. Yor. If that even is her name.

A new thought strikes him: what if she knows of him? What if he is simply a step in a mission to gain intelligence on WISE?

He wants to confront her now, but he also knows after years in the service as a spy, that it will get him nowhere to initiate an interrogation now when he is lacking the vital pieces of information needed to come out on top.

So he waits.

[writeastormsblog]

Show Me My Silver Lining (TFTBL Rhys/Fiona Fanfiction) - Chapter 11

SUMMARY: A fan-written continuation of the lives of the Atlas CEO and Pandoran Vault Hunter. Canon-aligned with TFTBL, but not with game 3. What happened after the vault? How does the beloved duo continue growing together? Rhyiona ship including slow burn, fluff, and banter. Enjoy!

(art made by using Canva)

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

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Driftio Kart

A couple weeks after their rakk extermination, Fiona and Rhys met up again. This time around, it was by Fiona’s doing.

On a late Friday evening, Fiona occupied a comfy armchair in Rhys’s living room, her legs dangling off one side as her head leaned back on the other. She haphazardly kicked her shoes off on the floor, and her hat sat on the coffee table. A bag of Rhys's potato chips rested on her stomach, with one hand in the bag, and the other holding a book from his shelf. She crunched away as she thumbed through pages, waiting for whenever he’d get back to his apartment.

She smirked as she heard the jamming of keys in the doorknob, the thumps of his shoes from being taken off and set on the floor. The lights were off throughout the apartment except for the lamp dimly lit just behind Fiona so she could read. Rhys didn’t turn to notice it yet, so she reached into the bag, intentionally crinkling it, and popped a chip in her mouth with a loud crunch.

Rhys froze, then immediately dropped down into a crouch, pulling his stun baton out of his jacket. Fiona stifled chuckling as she could see his dark silhouette went behind the couch.

“You’re really hiding there, Rhys?” Fiona smirked. “You know I heard the door open, right?”

“Wh—“ Rhys stood up, now taking her in. Fiona laughed at his wide eyes, his arms hanging at his sides, totally stunned.

“Your taste in sci-fi is alright,” she casually concluded, shutting his book. “Not my personal go-to, but I think I can kinda see the appeal.”

Rhys scoffed, shaking his head. “How did you get in here?”

“I was a criminal, remember? I’ve got my ways.”

“You’re a criminal right now! You broke into my home.”

Fiona waved him off. “Doesn’t count. We’re friends. There, you got me saying it a third time.”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, flustered as he clearly didn’t expect company. “Getting even, right?" He chuckled. "Showing up, unannounced.”

Fiona grinned. “Now you’re catching on.”

“How do you even know where I live?”

“Asked Vaughn.”

“Right.” Rhys sighed, but smiled. He went to the kitchen. “I’d ask if you’d want anything, but I see you’ve helped yourself.” No doubt, he found the mug Fiona left at the keurig, the bottom rimmed with remnants of black coffee. She’d pulled the box of cookies from the cupboard and left it on the counter, and slapped a sticky note on it that said “thanks” with a middle finger on it. “You are ridiculous, you know that?”

Fiona rubbed at her face as she grinned. “I prefer ’funny,’ but ’ridiculous’ could work since I’m here with you.” 

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Did you only eat snacks or did you actually eat real food?”

“Snacks,” she said, stretching. “I’ve got money to eat out for life, but I’ve also got occasional laziness. Didn’t feel like grabbing real food on the way here.” She also didn't know when Rhys would get home. Honestly, she secretly wanted to wait to have dinner with him.

“You like lasagna?” Rhys started preheating the oven. “Meatlover’s, specifically?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Fiona stood, dusting crumbs off her and setting the book and chip bag aside. She glanced around his apartment again. Comfy, lived-in. Not elaborately fancy like the halls of Atlas. It felt like an actual home.

“You’ve got a nice place,” she said.

“Heh, yeah? How much of it have you seen?”

“Only the living room and kitchen. And the bathroom.” She quirked a brow. “You’ve got weird stuff to read in there. ‘Soo-doo-koo?’”

“Y’mean sudoku? Pronounced, ‘soo-dow-koo’?” He grinned, leaning on the counter.

“Yeah, that.” Fiona shrugged. “What’s that all about?”

“You don’t know how sudoku works?”

“Nope. I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s a number game. Though, you probably figured that much.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed you like math.” Fiona wrinkled her nose, gesturing at the bookshelf. “Saw so many books on math stuff.”

“Eh, I only stay sharp on mathematics for hacking.” Rhys shrugged. “If I didn’t love the yearly hackathons I had growing up, I wouldn’t have collected those textbooks.”

“Pff. You nerd,” Fiona said, turning away with a soft smile. She didn't like math, but she found his commitment to learning it strangely endearing. He’s an absolute dork.

“What else have you uncovered about me?” Rhys asked as he unpacked frozen lasagna from the freezer. 

“Mm…” Fiona tilted her head. “The shelves were the most telling. Books, board games, cards. Saw books on ‘Bunkers and Badasses.’”

“Heh, I used to have more time to play that back in college. Can’t believe we got Athena to try it. That was terrifying.”

“She really got into it.” Fiona smiled. She looked at the devices set up near the TV. “Anyways, besides that, you’ve got weird tech lying around here.” She picked up a gaming console. “What’s this do? Some sort of weapon prototype?”

Rhys let out a surprised laugh. “What? No— okay, that right there, is what we’re gonna do while we wait for dinner.”

He went to the living room and started up the devices. Fiona sat back on the couch and snorted as his ugly socks came into view. They were neon yellow with hotdogs on them. “What are those things on your feet?”

“What, do you want me to take them off?” He raised a brow at her, smirking.

“I will actually set your place on fire if you do.”

“Heheh, oh you’re gonna want to save your trash talk for the game.”

She leaned forward, intrigued by the colors and music coming from the tv screen. “What is this?”

“This, right here, is Driftio Kart: My turf and your doom." He smirked as she raised a brow. "Don't worry, I’ll go easy on you at first. I gotta teach you how to play so when I win, it's a proper victory.”

Rhys shrugged off his jacket, sitting beside Fiona. He handed her a controller, and began to explain the character selection and buttons. Fiona listened, both amused and confused as Rhys rambled through instructions.

When it was the time they began to race, Fiona’s eyes went back and forth from her split screen to his. Her character slammed into the walls, making her frustrated, but laughing. “What even is this? The controls suck, Rhys!”

“It is not the controls, but the controller,” Rhys said in a jokingly philosophical tone. He smoothly steered his character around, then set his controller aside. “Okay, I’ll guide you as you play. Press this button.” His hand rested on hers, guiding her fingers on which button to press. Fiona felt that weird fluttering in her stomach, but aimed to focus on the game. “Okay, see those glowy boxes? You’re gonna wanna drive into those. They give you power ups,” he proceeded to explain.

Fiona started getting the hang of by the end of the second round. “And how do you drift, again?”

“Hold the R button while steering into a turn. See, there we go!” Rhys proudly grinned. “Drift away!”

Fiona shook her head, smiling. “This is incredibly bizarre. It's the most colorful death rally I’ve ever seen.”

“Except no one has to die!” Rhys enthusiastically clarified as he went to put the lasagna in the oven. He came back with glasses of water, placed one in front of her, then picked up his controller again. “Alright, hydrate yourself. We're gonna be here for a bit, doing some more practice races. Think you can handle it?”

“Not really, but yeah,” she chuckled. “Let’s do it.”

…

“Rhys, who are all these other players?” Fiona chortled. “They keep passing me! How long have they been playing?���

“Oh, they’re bots,” Rhys said as both of them leaned forward, subconsciously swaying at the curve of the race track.

“Like Loader Bots and Gortys’s?”

He laughed. “No, like in the system!”

“What?” She yelled next to him, unaware of how loud she was. 

“I said, like— hahah, hold on! Ah, you’re in eighth place!”

“Yeah, which is better than ninth!”

“Pff, I’m just a little distracted by your yelling is all!”

Rhys passed Fiona. “Hah! Who’s in ninth place, now?”

“No! No, enhance!” Fiona yelled, and Rhys couldn’t stop laughing. “Enhance!”

"'Enhance' won't save you!"

"Nah, it's got to!" Fiona snickered as she raised a hand to shield Rhys’s eyes. “Enhancing blindness!”

“Hey, no cheating!” Rhys ducked and batted her arm away, laughing.

They smiled so much that it hurt.

During the last round of the race, the two went back and forth being one ahead of the other.

“C’mon!” Rhys exclaimed, shaking his controller. “C’mon!”

Fiona held her breath as the finish line came into view for both of them.

“Hah, look at me! Ahead of you!” Rhys said, not realizing the power up Fiona had been saving. Just before he reached the finish line, Fiona red-shelled him. “What?! WHAT?!”

“YES!!! HAHAH!!!!” Fiona jumped up, victorious as she crossed the finish line while Rhys’s racer remained flipped over. “TOUCHGOAL!!!”

“I can’t— I can’t believe you!” Unable to stop laughing, Rhys fell back into the couch. He covered his face in the crook of his arm.

“I’m sorry, what was that? I don’t speak loser.” Fiona stuck her tongue out at him.

He lowered his arm, catching his breath, and mustered a playful pout as she excitedly flopped back down on the couch. Too bubbly to even care, she let her head lay on his shoulder, unable to suppress her giggling.

Rhys leaned his head against hers. Their faces blushed, so they both stayed looking forward. Rhys turned the tv volume down with the palm of his hand, then shut his eyes. “I actually had the most exhausting day at work,” he admitted. “And then you showed up...” 

The oven dinged, signaling the lasagna was done cooking, but the two sat where they were. Fiona felt her face getting warmer as she felt the rise and fall of his breathing.

“I’ve got my dream job,” Rhys continued. “But it’s still hard for me. I know you said I’ve earned it, but sometimes I still doubt it. I just grabbed the rights and ran, and now I’m getting hit with all the stress at once without having built my way up to it. I’m still passionate about what I’m doing. I still love all of what I do, but…” He sighed. “Sometimes, I want to just go home and shut down.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Fiona frowned. “To want rest.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t want rest, though. I feel like I’m supposed to want to constantly do what I do, since it’s fallen into my hands. I know so many people would kill to be in the position that I’m in. I hate that I can feel so restless.”

“Rhys, wanting and recognizing that you need rest is healthy.” Fiona let the controller slide off her lap as she patted his hand. “It’s okay to want to let go sometimes. Letting go sometimes doesn’t mean you’re letting go of everything. If anything, it helps you hang on. If you try to keep plowing through work without rest, you’ll end up surrendering everything you’ve worked for.” She sighed against his shoulder. “Trust me, I get it. Last week, I was doing some more exploring. Janey was okay with Athena joining me, so Athena and I went together. I should’ve rested since I’d sprained my ankle earlier in the day, but I pushed myself because I love what I do. I love being on my feet, and after having the crazy amount of money I still don’t even know what to do with, I told myself I should just keep going. I could’ve been a con artist still, one who didn’t catch a big break, one who couldn’t afford to do what I do. Long story short, I struggled to outrun more bandits than we expected, and Athena didn’t let me hear the end of it.”

“...I bet she was scary,” Rhys mumbled.

“Hah, yeah, she was. I knew she was right about my mistake, though. So it’s okay to rest, Rhys. It’s okay to not work all the time or not think about work all the time. I’m not saying slack and fall behind, and obviously preparing ahead of time has its pros, but there’s a balance… And I’m still figuring it out, too.”

She felt Rhys’s face turn slightly towards her head. “…Thank you, Fiona. For all of this. Being here, saying stuff to make me feel sane again. Breaking into my home so we could spend time together.” He smiled against her hair. 

 Fiona smiled, and strangely began to not mind the fluttering in her stomach. “Of course.”

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

writer's note: Finals week is around the corner, so ofc ya girl needs to destress. Do I play video games? Write fanfic? Nah. I write fanfic about our beloved characters playing video games together!! Because how frickin' cute?! I wanna write more characterization for Rhys. His mindset and hobbies, stuff like I've been covering for Fiona. When it comes to his mindset, I figured he'd still have workaholic tendencies after years of climbing the corporate ladder, and from time to time he'd struggle with imposter syndrome. And about the video gaming-- I saw a scene from the game where Vaughn didn't get paralyzed, and Vaughn and Rhys were playing a video game on Vaughn's watch screen. So nerdy and geeky, gotta love it!!

Anyways, I thought it'd be so cute to write Rhys and Fiona being able to enjoy each other's hobbies without them being out somewhere where they're almost dying every ten seconds :D

[inkyquince]

inky inky inky im begging for sum tiny bitty crumbs of your texan slasher oc. ive been too long far away from any country boys and i feel its affecting me mentally and physically. lots of love from someone trapped in a big city 🫶🏼

So I'm stuck between Matteo (Matty) or Elijah (Eli) cuz I like both names a lot. Anyway, his last name is Heron!

First time you meet him, you fully just believe he's a gentle himbo. Silly little guy, harmless, kinda dumb, worked his entire life on the family ranch. You KNOW things about him, like yeah, he's a part time butcher, helping his uncle bleed out animals to be cut up and sold for their meat, but it could never seem ominous to you for any reason. His smile is so sweet and you gently explained things like how you it's not advised to fill every socket on the extension chord since it could blow a fuse. Or that no... Pro Bono doesn't... Mean.... That. Dirty boy. Or that twenty first century doesn't mean 2100,

But actually, that's all a facade. Finds it so cute the way you talk to him when explaining things, and day dreams about the day he gets to grip your face and make you bite down on his knife as he finally gets to talk down to you.

When summer comes to his town, there is usually people coming to enjoy the summer, for people who enjoy camping and small town vibes. Heron picks out someone to start a "summer romance" with, play their doe eyed, dumb boyfriend whose great for a fuck, and to be dumped at the end of the season, maybe with the promise to keep in touch or something.

He gets to play mind games, either getting to play "stalker" or "hunter" depending if they came here alone. The local law enforcement really doesn't care about tourists, so he gets to have his fun. Either stalks his "summer love" or slowly pick off their friends and family. Its his true hobby, and its why summer is his favorite season ever.

Usually takes the victims back to the slaughterhouse, slice their throats, let them bleed out, then cut up and put the meat in the packages to be shipped out. Everything else goes to the pigs.

[mrcowboydeanwinchester]

🧡 The Past and Pending 🐎

jo & young claire fic - 4.7k - rating: G - canon compliant - read on ao3

Jo watches the family hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen. Jo supposes she once looked like that, too.

16th May, 2004. Nine years to the day since Jo's father's death, she is nineteen and working her usual shift in the Roadhouse bar. The Novak family stop by during a summer storm as they travel through the state, and Jo has the chance to bond with a seven year old Claire over horses, their love for their fathers, and leather jackets.

written for my 2024 jo's joyous birthday celebrations!! prompts were orange, horse girl, and leather jacket, which were fun to weave in. enjoy <3

read below the cut!

16th May 2004.

It’s been a slow day at the Roadhouse, the tepid May heat turning beers warm but the bouts of summer rain keeping Jo from her usual restless walks outside. The bar is gloomy and a little stifling and it’s nine years to the day since the death of her father. 

By the evening Jo is working the bar, in view of the entrance. Every time the door scrapes open and the creaky floorboard goes, she is hit with one of two alternating images. The first is her father, home from his hunt, leather jacket fitted on his solid body with a smile on his face. His arms are spread wide waiting for her hug. Each time it is not him, she is forced to remember how his leather jacket is hanging emptily from a hook behind the bar and that every time she pictures his face she gets it a little more wrong.

The second image is of Uncle Bobby, hunched and sad, his grief silhouetted in the doorway light as he brings the sorry news. Her dad’s leather jacket in his hands, all that was left of him. What news does he bring this time? How many dead? The first image fills her with sorrow, the second with fear, both memories rising to the surface on the anniversary like crumbs in beer.

Jo mindlessly wipes down the bar, any tears that land on the countertop instantly disappearing beneath the cloth. It’s just one of those days. Ellen is in the back, unpacking the delivery that came in the morning, also quieter than usual. At least they’re not screaming at each other. That’s something. 

The front door scrapes the floor as it swings open and Jo is called back to the present. She brushes her eyes once with the back of her hand, the one holding the rag, as if she’s only wiping sweat from her forehead. When she turns to face the new customers Jo knows no one will be able to tell she was crying. She’s good at things like that. 

“Heya, what can I get for you?” she calls over the bar, and then instantly sighs as she sees the newcomers. Neither of the images in her head have materialized, but a third, more frustrating one has: civilians. 

A man and a woman, married, but still fairly young, hover uncertainly in the doorway. The wife’s hair is that uninteresting midway between blonde and brunette, cut sensibly to her shoulders but clearly styled. The husband’s hair is much darker and would probably curl if not for his serious and slick side parting. The first thing Jo notices about them is their hair because this is the most immediately interesting thing about them; other than that, they look incredibly boring. Normal. 

Then, from behind the man’s legs, peers a young girl. A child with a sweet tangerine gingham dress and curious eyes, maybe seven or so. Jo watches the girl take in the Roadhouse, with its burly, surly hunters hunched uninvitingly over tables marked with the questionable stains from fights and alcohol which make every surface slightly sticky. 

The husband is shaking his head, gesturing round at the bar with a displeased hand. “We should go,” Jo catches him saying, “this isn’t our kind of establishment.”

Jo is too used to this happening to be offended. Besides, she always thinks why cater to civilians anyway, when they’re a hunter bar first and foremost?

But the wife stands her ground. “She needs to eat, Jimmy. We all need a break, we’ve been driving for so long. And the sooner we get home, the sooner we outrun that storm.” 

Jimmy sighs, then nods. The trio shuffle awkwardly towards the bar, the child nervous at her father’s heels. She’s very blonde, as blonde as Jo. 

“I know we look like it, but we don’t bite,” Jo says, mainly to the girl. She earns the trace of a smile for her troubles.

Jimmy has the decency to look a little regretful. “I’m sorry, it’s been a… long drive. We haven’t had to travel quite this far before.”

“Well, that’s what the Roadhouse is here for. What can I get you?”

The options are limited, so it doesn’t take long for the family to decide on burgers, fries, and juices all round. Jo manages to keep her face straight at the drinks order. Most of the Roadhouse clientele would drink the rainwater outside rather than order fruit juice. If it wasn’t obvious enough already, the glimmer of evening light making its way through the window catches on the cross pendant visible through the open top button of Jimmy’s collar, and confirms the family’s faith. 

They go and find a table, choosing one by the window, to sit and drink their juices at. Jo sets about sorting the rest of their order, pottering about between the kitchen and the bar to serve it all up. 

She’s halfway through plating the fries when movement catches the corner of her eye and she spins to see the young girl clambering up one of the high stools at the bar, the seat teetering a little under her weight.

“Hey,” Jo says, maybe a little meanly. Mostly caught by surprise. “What are you doing?”

The girl’s face falls into a round, guilty oh as she finally settles, kneeling, on the seat. “I just wanted to see what was behind.”

Jo nods, calming now that her initial panic at the girl’s movement has subsided. “That’s fine, just make sure you’re careful up there, alright? It’s a tall seat and you’re a—a small little body.”

“One day I’m going to be bigger and every seat in my house is going to be a tall seat,” the girl decides with a jut of her chin. 

The comment hits Jo at such an angle it cracks her, and she barks out a laugh. “Sounds like a plan, kiddo. What’s your name?”

“Claire,” she answers. Then, with the precision of a child who has had politeness strongly instilled in her, asks, “and what’s yours?”

“Jo.”

“I thought that was a boy’s name.”

“It is,” Jo says. She gets a familiar burst of pride with it, but it feels awkwardly shallow with Claire looking up at her, so she follows with, “but it’s a girl’s name too. My full name is Joanna-Beth.”

Claire breathes a little woah . “That’s such a pretty name.”

“Huh. Um, thanks,” Jo manages. She’s never liked it, the way her mom only uses it in anger, the way her dad never used it. Joanna-Beth is someone else. Joanna-Beth is a bad daughter. Claire, though, doesn’t know any of that. 

As Jo’s cheeks tinge pink, Claire’s mom comes hastening over, ready to lift Claire down from the bar stool and back to the table. 

“Is she distracting you? I’m so sorry. Claire, love, come on—”

“No, it’s fine, really,” Jo placates earnestly. “I really don’t mind it. I was enjoying our chat.”

Claire beams at her. “So was I, mommy.”

Claire’s mom looks between the two of them—Jo wonders what goes on in her head as she does, two such naive-looking girls set against the backdrop of the Roadhouse—and then nods. “Well, you just give me or Jimmy a shout if you need a hand.”

“Thanks. I’m not great with kids, so I might need to,” Jo answers with a smile. It’s the truth; she’s never had much practice.

The woman raises a doubtful eyebrow. “Well, you seem to be doing a good job so far.”

Jo nods, unsure what to do with the praise. 

“I’m Amelia, if you need me,” supplies Amelia instead.

“I’m Jo.”

“It’s short for Joanna-Beth,” Claire pipes up, the awe still palpable in her voice. 

Amelia laughs, nodding, and runs a hand through Claire’s sleek pigtails. “Pretty name,” she tells Jo, before heading back to her husband at the table. 

It’s the complement of the hour, it seems. Jo nods again, head bobbing unassuredly like one of the lame figures in Ash’s room, as she gets back to plating up the meals under Claire’s careful surveillance. 

“You’ve got horses on your butt,” Claire says after ten full seconds of silence. 

“What? Oh,” Jo laughs, turning in vain to glance at the horses embroidered over the back pockets of her jeans. She found them in the thrift store in town. They weren’t cheap, the horses stitched in mid-gallop over the pockets boosting the price considerably. But it’d felt wrong to leave the horses trapped in the sterile light of the thrift store. They deserve some warm lighting, Jo’d thought, where they can complete their run for freedom when no one is looking. The jeans are just a tad too small, so the plushy middle of her stomach bulges over them slightly, but she tries not to mind it. Anything for the horses.

“Do you like them?” she asks, wiggling her butt a little, much to Claire’s delight. 

Jo normally keeps her movements minimal, behind the bar, knowing how hunters’ eyes glue grossly to all the places she’d least like them look. She often feels like somewhat of a dancing monkey because of it, but here it’s an innocent movement with no repercussions other than Claire’s laughter.

“They’re so fun. I wish my dress had horses on like yours,” Claire says with a plaintive sigh which sounds amusingly beyond her years. 

“You like horses?” 

Claire nods eagerly. “For my next birthday mommy says I can have a riding lesson.”

“Woah! That’s so cool!” Jo says, and she’s genuinely quite excited at the idea. “I’m jealous, I wish I could ride. Then I could saddle up and go wherever I wanted all by myself.” California, she’d decided sometime long ago. Or maybe Arizona. Just somewhere west of this wasteland.

“I’ll come back and teach you once I know,” Claire answers, so earnestly Jo knows she fully believes it. 

Somehow, she can see it: Claire with her little arms crossed staring up at Jo perched precariously on a horse, calling instructions up to her. “I’d like that,” she says with a grin. “Where will you ride to, once you can ride absolutely anywhere?”

Claire considers the question deeply, the cogs whirring away visibly behind her eyes. “Well, I’d have to teach daddy and mommy how to ride too. I don’t want to go anywhere without them. But then I don’t mind.”

Jo hums. It’s a cute image, the three of them as one family riding off into the sunset. Not lost, because they’re together. It feels distant, familiar in the way the memories of a dream are; foreign. Whenever she has those fantasies of riding away now, she’s alone. She supposes that wasn’t always the case.  

“That sounds real lovely,” she finally gets out, staring down at the burger she has started stacking. She hadn’t really realized she was doing it, just running on automatic. Thinking of her father and running on automatic, the story of her life since she lost what Claire still has. 

But Claire’s concentration has dwindled and she wriggles in her seat. “Are you going to be done soon? I’m starving .” 

“Hey, you’re the one distracting me!” Jo rebuts, shaking her head clear with an exaggerated sigh for Claire’s benefit. “But tell you what, I have an idea to help you grow bigger so you can always sit on the tall seats.”

“What?” Claire asks, perking back up with excitement. 

Jo hunkers down to Claire’s level on the bar, resting her chin on her arms so they’re completely eye to eye. “If you help me carry the food to your table it’ll be like lifting weights and then you’ll get big and strong,” she says, voice low like she’s letting Claire in on a secret.

“You mean it’s ready?”

Jo pulls away with a roll of her eyes and fishes the basket of burger and fries from the countertop to present them on the bar. Impatiently, Claire reaches out to grab one, but Jo bats gently her hands away. 

“Hey, kiddo, gotta get down from the seat first.”

“I can do it myself!” Claire protests. 

But still, she doesn’t struggle as Jo comes around from behind the bar and helps lift her to the floor, Claire steadying herself against Jo’s arms. Once her feet have touched the floor, she prods at Jo’s toned tricep again with a podgy finger. 

“Your arm isn’t soft,” she points out, rather frankly. 

Jo gives her arm a squeeze in the same place Claire just did, to feel for herself. She always thinks she is too soft, too willowy; china doll in a bull farm. So although she trains as much as she can, shooting with her bow and arrow in the yard and sparring with the other hunters when they pass through, it never feels like enough. At least Claire thinks differently. 

“It’s because it’s all muscles,” she explains. She give the smooth, plushy skin of Claire’s arm a gentle poke in return. “See, you just haven’t got any yet.”

Claire frowns as she squints down at the difference between them. “I didn’t think girls could have muscles.”

Sometimes Jo looks at herself in the mirror and wishes she’d never trained at all. That she looked like all the other girls her age. Even like Claire. Here she is, jealous of a seven year old, yet knowing that this world of comparison is what Claire will inevitably grow into. Distantly and regrettably, she reminds herself of her mother.

“All girls can have muscle if they want to, and train enough,” she says, trying to keep her words on an even keel. It feels important. But she attempts to imagine little Claire in her gingham dress with muscly arms and fails. 

Claire giggles, gorgeously oblivious as she jabs at Jo’s arm again. “None of the girls at school or Sunday school are like you, Jo.”

Her throat gets a little dry. “Is that a bad thing?”

“Just a thing,” Claire notes absently, before taking the basket of greasy food from Jo’s distracted hand and sauntering over to her family with it clutched tightly in her fists. She hands it straight to her dad, who runs an affectionate hand over his daughter’s head.

“Thank you, sweetheart, this looks very lovely,” he says patiently, as she scrambles over him and onto her own seat. “Have you been kind to the nice lady?”

Jo doesn’t like that word but doesn’t have time to deal with that, recovering as she is from Claire’s rapid-fire insights. She follows the kid to the table and slides Amelia and Claire their portions, receiving grateful smiles from both Amelia and Jimmy. 

“Thank you,” the family chorus, their voices naturally falling in a pleasant harmony. 

Jo’s voice is lonely in comparison as she asks if she can get them more drinks. They turn down the offer and thank her again, Claire’s eyes glued to her food now that it’s properly in front of her. Slowly, Jo returns to her spot behind the bar, unabashedly gazing at the family from across the room.

She watches them hold hands over her shitty bar food and close their eyes in grace, in prayer. Even when they’re all hungry, when Claire has confessed dramatically to starvation, they take the moment to thank their god for their meal. Jo doesn’t think any food prepared by her hands is really worth it, but the prayer comes out in a low and sincere murmur from Jimmy’s mouth. Claire looks like a little blonde angel as she mouths along to her father’s amen . Jo supposes she once looked like that, too. 

**

The next half hour passes with little incident, aside from a repeat round of whiskey for Shawn, Jake and Caleb in the far corner. Jo mainly watches Claire and her family eat their blessed dinner and chat, the flow easy between them. They don’t talk like most people in the Roadhouse do. They sound posher, somehow, their sentences free from apostrophes and curses. Jimmy eats his burger with a knife and fork. 

Another shower of summer rain falls, the noise heavy on the Roadhouse roof. Jo expects it to pass, but instead the weather settles like that, a consistent rumble over the bar. The storm she heard Amelia mention earlier must have caught up with them, despite their desire to outrun it. 

Jimmy and Amela must notice this too. They peer out of the window by their table into the ever-murkier evening, resignation growing on their faces.

“We need to make a move,” Jimmy says. “Get ahead of this before we get stuck.”

As if to emphasize the point, a crack of thunder echoes out around the Roadhouse. The sound travels potently over the flat Nebraska plains and the din of the first clap gives even the hunters in the corner a start. Claire lets out a small yelp and buries herself into her father’s side. 

“It’s just thunder, sweetie,” Jimmy pacifies.

Claire mumbles something into his middle in return, but Jo can’t make it out. 

“You guys finishing up?” she asks, walking over and clearing the baskets. “I’d head out before it gets worse.”

“Yes, we’d like to,” Amelia agrees, “but someone here is a little bit scared of the thunder.”

“I’m not scared,” Claire grouches, lifting a protesting head from her dad’s chest. Jo knows a liar when she sees one, knows it as she knows herself. “I just don’t want to get wet.”

Jo choses bravado and Claire choses nonchalance, but it looks like they both bury their fear. She remembers the performances she used to put on for her father to show she was capable enough to keep up with him, how loved it made her feel when he believed in her. An idea, easily shattered, starts growing in her mind, and she surges forward with it before it can break. 

“So we gotta get you out to the car without getting wet, hmm?” Jo poses quizzically. Claire looks at her suspiciously, but nods along. “I have an idea,” Jo draws out, hands on hips. “We’ll have to go behind the bar to make it work…”

Claire leaps up from her seat, curiosity winning out over anything else. Jo hasn’t even got to ask Amelia and Jimmy’s permission, their looks of gratitude are already enough. They start gathering their jackets as Jo leads Claire around, to the tantalizing world behind the bar.

“Cool,” Claire whispers. It’s the closest thing to slang she’s said all day.

Jo smiles despite herself, then readies to go through with her idea. She’s sharing the one thing of her father’s which is truly hers. If it were anyone but Claire, she wouldn’t be doing it, but something about Claire makes it feel different—makes sharing feel more like a gift which grows rather than diminishes. 

“This,” Jo says, gently lifting the supple material from where it hangs dutifully on its hook, “is my daddy’s leather jacket.”

She takes a deep breath and kneels beside Claire, offering the leather up to her for her little hands to touch. Despite the warmth of the day, the leather is still cool, and Claire’s smile grows as she slides her chestnut-sized palms along the smooth material. 

The leather is brown and worn, but still in pretty pristine condition for a jacket now going on thirty years old. Jo doubts Claire even notices the small set of hand stitches around the collar from when she stupidly tore it and needed to fix it up. It had taken her a whole afternoon tucked away in her bedroom to stitch it back together, but she’d played her dad’s vinyls the whole while and the time had spun away quickly. Even her mom was impressed by Jo’s handiwork, in the end. This jacket is the one thing of her dad that Ellen lets Jo keep, and Jo keeps it well. 

Claire’s blue eyes are wide and wondrous in her head. “It’s very nice,” she says shyly.

Jo smiles. “I know. And it’s really special to me, because my daddy isn’t around any more, so we’re going to take good care of it together.”

“Why isn’t your daddy around?” Claire asks, her forehead wrinkling with the question. She’s a kid clearly trained in courtesy, but the constant frankness to her questions give her a harder edge. If the questions didn’t sting so much, Jo would love it about her. Claire continues, “my daddy loves me so much I think he’ll be around forever.”

“Well,” Jo says carefully, slowly, stringing her words along the tightrope of her taut throat. “Sometimes it’s not a choice. My daddy died nine years ago.” She swallows the ‘today’ she could add onto the end of that sentence, feeling that detail might be a little too much for both of them in this conversation. “Here’s something I find very important to remember: just because someone leaves, doesn’t mean they stop loving you. And it doesn’t mean you stop loving them.”

Claire looks as if she might start chuckling, but then catches onto the sincerity in Jo’s tone. Her mouth falls open slightly and her plump fingers squeeze tighter at the leather jacket. “I don’t want my daddy to leave me.”

“I bet he won’t,” Jo says, placing her hands over Claire’s. They’re so small beneath her own. Warm too, like holding a little heart between her hands. 

Jo looks up at Claire, at her sandy blonde hair tied neatly into pigtails and the pretty orange gingham of her summer dress. Seven years old and so sure her daddy will never leave her. It is only the crystal blue of Claire’s irises that differ from the umber of her own, but even then, Jo supposes that they both have their father’s eyes. 

“I think we’ve got the best daddys in the world,” Jo whispers. “They love us all the time. When they’re out at the shops, when they’re away with work, when they’re up in heaven. They love us right now.” 

She swallows, hard, blinking away the tears that are refracting rainbows in her eyes. There’s a burning in her throat but she’s glad she managed to say those words, to finally get them out into the precious ears of a young girl. She smiles. Her vision is still slightly watery but clearing when she realizes Claire is giggling, a sweet blush on her cheeks. Her laughter is light and bubbly, like a stream tumbling over rocks in the sun. Like if Jo bathed in it, she would feel clean.

“Come on, we can use my daddy’s leather jacket as an umbrella to run out to the car,” she says, the idea finally coming to fruition as she stands back up again and dusts the Roadhouse floor muck from her knees. “I’ll hold it over your head so you don’t get wet.”

Claire rolls her eyes, something Jo wasn’t sure seven year olds knew enough to do, but apparently so. “But then you’re going to get wet!”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m big and strong! I can take some rain.” Jo makes a performance of flexing her arms, the odd proportions of her wide-muscled shoulders and lean frame suddenly a cause for celebration rather than insecurity when looked at through Claire’s eyes. 

“Hmm.” Claire ponders hard at Jo’s words, those cogs visibly turning again in her brain. “Okay. But you’ll have to be fast to keep up with me!” 

The kid makes a dash for the door and is surprisingly speedy on her little legs, her gingham dress swishing behind her. Jo starts after her, pitching both arms upwards so the jacket hangs from them like a tent over Claire’s head. They dash out the front door and into the delicious rain, giggling all the way until it turns into full belly laughter. The lights of the car flash when Jimmy unlocks it, and Claire kicks up water as she runs to fling open the backseat door. Jo’s jeans are splattered with it, but the rain is coming down in sheets so her whole body is soon soaked through anyway. 

Another roar of thunder booms across the open space but Claire doesn’t even notice, too busy sheltering under Jo’s jacket as she scrambles up into the car. Jo slides the leather jacket on to free up her hands and help Claire wriggle into the backseat. The girl is a step ahead of her, and clicks her seatbelt into place with a smug little grin at Jo.

“See, I am faster than you!” 

Jo laughs, feeling rainwater pool in the corners of her mouth as she does so. “Okay, you win. But I did help keep you safe from all the horrible rain and thunder.”

“Yes, you did,” Claire concedes graciously. She clearly has a self-righteous streak. Smiling, she opens her arms wide for Jo to hug her, but Jo backs away.

“I’m very wet still, I don’t want to make you damp after all this.”

“Oh, okay,” Claire says, looking crestfallen. “But I want to hug you anyway.”

Jo pauses. “You sure?”

“Of course!” Claire says, the words come on, silly, evident in her tone. 

Jo grins, and wraps her drenched, leathery arms around Claire. Squeezes her tight. With her face buried in Claire’s hair, she inhales the strong and familiar scent of strawberry shampoo, the kind she used to use when she was small. She’s got a young girl’s warm body in her arms, and the scent of her dad’s leather and her childhood shampoo mix in the May evening air. 

“I want to be just like you when I grow up,” Claire’s voice whispers in her ear. 

Jo wants to sob, but doesn’t. She instead gives Claire one last, big, humongous squeeze and untangles herself, her arms leaving damp patches across Claire’s dress. Claire doesn’t seem to mind, she’s only seven. 

“I was just like you when I was small,” Jo manages to reply. She doesn’t know if that’s a good or bad thing anymore, or if it’s just—as Claire said—a thing. Some small part of her feels like she’s damning Claire as she says this, to a life like her’s. But then again—maybe it’s just a thing, and her life is neutral. There does not have to be a curse to pass on. She smiles. “It’s been really nice to meet you, Claire.”

“And it was nice to meet you too, Jo!”

They do a final high-five (Claire’s hands only spanning Jo’s palm) before Jo steps back into the rain proper, closing the car door in front of her with a wet thunk. 

The driver’s door opens and shuts beside her, Jimmy having climbed behind the wheel. Amelia’s footsteps splash around to the far side of the concrete and then the whole family is sheltered in the car, safely stowed together behind the windows.

In the low lighting of the Roadhouse sign, for a moment Jo looks into Claire’s window and only sees herself, rain pouring down her face and shoulders wide enough to fill her father’s jacket. Then the driver’s window rolls down and Jo steps to meet it. 

“Thank you,” Jimmy says. He has dark hair and a face she will meet again. “You were very good with her. Your parents should be proud.”

Jo goes to shake her head but then allows herself the nod, to tentatively agree. Her wet hair is plastered to her scalp, but the rain isn’t cold; it’s just right. 

“Have a safe journey,” she calls. Then repeats herself as the man revs the engine so Claire, winding the window down too, can still hear her. “Have a safe journey!” 

To where, Jo realizes she isn’t quite sure. 

Both her and Claire wave like wild things as the car turns back out onto the road, Jo chasing the car for a few meters, to Claire’s growing grin. As the car pulls away Claire’s blonde pigtails are the last thing Jo can make out of her.

She stands there, in the parking lot outside the Roadhouse where the dust is being beaten into the road by the summer rain. The taillights of the car rumble out of view and Jo still stands, waving, unsure if she’s just met the past or future, until her mother comes and beckons her inside. 

[green-tea-in-absinthe-bottle]

THE NIGHT BELONGS TO YOU CHAPTER 3

Blade x fem reader fanfic

MASTERLIST

Summary of part 3 - Reader lives among stellaron hunters, makes genuine connections and slowly becomes one of them

Chapter 3 – Tangled up like branches in a flood 

Between playing games with Silver Wolf at which Y/n sucked, ( but enjoyed them, so who cares) and conversations with Elio (she was told by Destiny’s Slave himself to refer to him as such after short time) weeks passed quickly and happily with Stellaron Hunters. 

 Y/n couldn’t say that she wasn’t treated well, her room was spacious and comfortable one with king sized bed and huge bookshelf full of grimoires, they even put up a little herb garden in her room. She had supplies for her numerous hobbies, yarn for crochet and knitting, painting tools, even her favourite instrument to practice with to Kafka’s delight as she always craved some company while honing her violin skills.  

She was quickly introduced to her share of housework which wasn’t a terrible one, she got to do things she didn’t really mind doing especially those that others didn’t like, overall it wasn’t overwhelming. If anything she was too proud to admit but it seemed life together was much easier, at least no more triggering her sensory issues with washing dishes. With time her attachment to Stellaron Hunters grew.  

They behaved towards each other like a found family and there was nothing Arkonian missed more than her own one. Maybe that’s why she loved how Blade and Silver Wolf’s friendship looked like? Each time she noticed them joke around together and spend quality time regardless if it was work-related, going out in disguise to enjoy festivals or parallel play when Wolf gamed  and Blade slept with his eyes open next to her -  y/n thought about her father and how they used to do that too, minus the whole incognito thing.  

She wasn’t the part of their dynamic, yet it still brought her comfort. Even when she spent time with Silver Wolf Blade almost never spoke to her, despite his gaze always finding her and observing her every move.  

 - Y/n, would you like to play Tekken with me? Blade hurt his hand again, he can’t hold the controller properly. - Wolfie casually suggested, giving him a piece of bubble gum. He took it gently into his bandaged hand. Fresh blood was visible on white material. 

 - Sure, why not. Tekken 7 or 8? I main Kazumi or Jun. 

 - You like Mishimas’s girls? - teen teased her.  

 - What can I say, they have great taste in women, I mean... Have you seen Jun’s leg cutter move? So hot. - y/n didn’t even try to pretend she was normal about those characters. - By the way, what happened to our friend?  

 He winced at the word she chose to describe him with but didn’t oppose when y/n sat on the floor between his and Wolfie’s legs. She didn’t want to get the chips crumbs scrambled here and there on the couch stuck on her black pants.  

 - During the mission some glass shards from broken window cut his hand. Don’t worry, he heals much faster than average person, his curse does come with a few blessings. - Wolfie answered instead of the man, who looked like he wanted to say a few bitter words about such unwanted “blessings” that only delay his eternal rest. Unbothered by his grumpiness girl continued. - Here is your controller, we play the new Tekken. Blade just bought it for me today.  

 - That’s very kind of him. - y/n admitted. She only earned unamused glance from the man.  

 - He is way nicer than he seems to be at first, you will understand.  

Out of 7 matches they played y/n won only two, but claimed to be good at Tekken. Just, you know, trying new techniques for fun and gawking at Jun’s design. Wolfie turned out to be Yoshimitsu main but tried Hwoarang once. Blade didn’t utter a word through the whole game but passed them snacks from nearby table. Perhaps those spicy shrimp chips were enough for y/n to forget how annoying he could be sometimes. Did she imagine this or did he really gave up last few chips from his bowl so she could have them? 

*** 

Later, when Silver Wolf and Y/N were alone the former reassured her.  

 - Don’t worry about Blade, he isn’t in the best place mentally. He usually avoids outsiders like a plague. You are new here and we don’t know yet for how long will you be willing to stay with us or if we can trust you. It’s already a miracle he sits next to you out of his own will, I think he doesn’t dislike you. - girl grinned.  

 - I don’t know about that. - y/n laughed in response – Your gloomy friend constantly  stares at me like he wants to see all my previous lifetimes.  

Hacker cackled wildly at that.  

 - Oh come on, he’s not that bad. He is just... A bit intense. But trust me, he doesn’t hate you. You would know if he would. You haven’t seen him like that yet, he’s like some fallen angel of revenge. 

 - Sounds like I really don’t want to get on his bad side. - medium scrunched her nose. 

Even more often she marveled at Blade’s friendship with Firefly, the girl that craved life but hers was meant to be cut short, while he craved nothing more than for his immortal suffering to come to end, he could find some hope for peace only in death, just like one of Y/N’s relatives back then on Arkona... Yet Firefly and Blade deeply respected each other, understood each other in a way nobody else ever did and took care of each other in subtle way. It was so sweet.  

In general, y/n considered the way everybody here accommodated disabled people of the group without infantilising them or making them seem like a burden. For example – Blade let girls play on his phone, but when he needed them to type a message to somebody which was hard for him to do because of constant stiffness of his hands – he didn’t need to ask them twice even in the middle of unstoppable game. Perhaps the pain in his hands is the reason  why he barely used his phone in general. He always spoke to the girls with respect, never let them feel inferior despite age difference, y/n chose to believe that the day he got his ass kicked by Sam was not the only reason why. 

Firefly’s entropy loss syndrome wasn’t a tabu, nobody tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but it was not a secret that time spent together was precious to them due to her shortened lifespan. She was always the closest with Blade, yet y/n suspected the one who cherished her the most was Kafka herself. The problem is even if Kafka tried her best at being there for Firefly  it only seemed to create more distance.   

Y/n believed in Kafka’s good intentions towards her crewmates. She always checked on their wellbeing, listened to Silver Wolf’s ideas when nobody else took them seriously  and she was the one covering for them in front of the boss when they ignored the script on missions. The way in which girls asked her if they can bend the rules a bit each time made y/n remember how she used to ask her auntie to calm her mother down later if she wanted to misbehave. Despite that, y/n believed that Kafka, so known for being completely fearless, tried to shield herself from others to avoid getting too close. 

It came to her mind one day while she was cleaning and organizing Kafka’s collection of coats alongside it’s owner. 

 - This one might need to be repaired before it gets back into the closet. - y/n suggested. 

 - What is it dear? - woman furrowed her brow, taking a look at damaged sleeve Arkonian held in front of her. - Is that blood? I really liked this one...- she sighed. - Don’t worry cutie, the blood definitely isn’t mine. 

 While that woman was always charming, polite and elegant – she was also a mysterious one, doing her best to not pick up any  personal topics. She clearly wanted company, valued people around her and in some way, y/n was sure she needed them. Yet, she never truly let go of her defences.  She seemed to be honest with you, telling you things without sugarcoating, but at the end of the day you didn’t really knew who she was. She didn’t lie but she never opened up either. 

At one point this enigmatic woman put down the last one of her coats and looked up at the painting hanging on the wall. Artificial light enhanced her facial features, emphasized her subtle expression. Kafka had that kind of sadness in her eyes y/n only saw in people who lost somebody who meant world to them, full of regret as if her soul could burst out of the seams under the weight of words unsaid, unconfessed feelings. Quickly, she concealed those emotions and closed the closet door. Y/n didn’t ask about it. 

 She didn’t want to pry, sometimes we need to let people keep their secrets, it’s a form of dignity too, like clothing that covers your body. Y/n knew better than anyone else – it's not a good thing to show your open wounds to people. After all Arkona left a hole in her heart that will never heal. 

Still, she tried to fill it, went out to run whenever she could, hiked the mountains to feel the blood rush through her body. To feel alive. Usually Firefly joined her during those activities, when you know you don’t have much time left you try to make every day meaningful. More often than not she had to take on SAM form during those to not overwhelm her body. To Firefly having a chance to see the beauty of nature, of world around herself – that was everything, and she couldn’t bear the thought of losing it one day. 

 During one of those hikes Y/n sat down next to younger girl on a boulder and passed her a thermos full of hot chocolate. They looked up at the setting sun, while two out of three moons this particular planet they chose to roam had slowly showed on the sky as pale crescents. Memories flood y/n’s mind. She turned her head towards her friend, only to see Firefly observing her with understanding in her eyes.  

 - Can I tell you something I haven’t told anybody else?- Y/n whispered with trembling voice.  

 - Of course, did something happen? - girl seemed to be concerned. 

 - Back then, on my home planet I used to live next to the mountain,  it used to be known in common language as Saintcross, our original name would sound too strange to you. You know what kind of reputation Arkonian language has. Whenever harsh winds and storms destroyed roofs of the houses in nearby villages my mother used to pray to Saintcross so it keeps us safe... She used to say it’s like a natural shield against those. I didn’t always believe that, cause in the area around them harsh winds were not uncommon but our home stood safe through it so I guess her prayers were listened to. Till the abominations came and split my mountains apart. - Arkonian’s face was wet with all the tears and she trembled so hard Firefly noticed it despite thick winter jacket covering y/n’s body .– Then there was nothing to protect us anymore. Nothing to pray to. Smoke covered sky so no stars shone above us at night and no sun was to be seen at day. 

Firefly didn’t knew what to do when people cried so she just held y/n till she calmed down. Then she spoke as well. 

 - My kind was meant to live fast and die in the flames of battle. In my lifetime I saw my comrades die again and again, I’m was used to losing those around me, that at some point I truly, foolishly believed that I can’t feel grief. We were made to fight Swarm but we lived like a hivemind ourselves. Only our purpose mattered, not who we were. To some extend we were made to believe we were all the same, like army of clones. - she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Arkonian’s arms around her tightened. - One thing I really need to do before enthropy takes me away from this world is to learn who I am. Only I myself can give sense to my life. I was made to burn, so in this fire I will forge myself in any shape I desire. - ambition shone in her eyes with intensity of the sun itself.  

 - I am sure you will reach your goal, maybe even to some extent it’s already done. - y/n gently smiled. 

 - Why would you say that? - girl livened up a bit. 

 - I never saw anybody burn as bright as you do. Take in everything like you do. Embrace life in all it’s colors. All stars shine in the sky but my people always looked up to the brightest ones. You remind me so much of myself from my younger days in that aspect, I used to beg my family to take me up the mountain as often as possible, just so I could feel closer to divinity of sun,  clouds and constellations. It made me feel so alive I wanted to scream from mountaintop. - y/n sighed. - Not to mention, growing up I had both a sweet tooth and tendency to try unconventional meals, I bet we would eat Oak Cake Rolls together if we knew each other back then. You need to try my favourite Anyżki cookies as well. 

 - Oh, do you know how to make them? I can use SAM's heating ability to help you bake them. - Firefly flexed a bit with a tiny smirk. 

 - Ummm...I need to refresh my memory, but as soon as I put my hands on that recipe we get to work bestie. 

Firefly took of her helmet and put her head on y/n's shoulder with pleased expression on her face. They watched as the third moon became visible, distant howling of wolves filled the atmosphere. Arkonian felt like in trance, tranquil after the storm of her emotions drained her energy. She sobered up once the first moon begun to set. 

- Maybe we should go. It’s getting late and I overheard Elio talk to Blade about something to do early in the morning tomorrow if everything goes well. - y/n’s voice interrupted peaceful moment they shared.  

Firefly got up and they walked back in complete silence, no words were needed. 

 Y/n didn’t know if her friend told anybody about what happened, but after she came down to the kitchen that night to get some pills for her insomnia, she met Kafka who silently gave her a cup of hot milk with honey with reassuring smile on her face.  

When she returned to her bedroom she found burning lavender incense placed on her bedside table, next to the small bouquet of red flowers identical to those Blade always had with himself. She didn’t recall putting any of those there, but was to tired to worry about that. Lavender managed to put her at ease, out of nowhere quiet violin music as hypnotizing as Kafka’s voice reached her ears and put her to sleep. For the first time since the fall of Arkona – she had no nightmares.  

*** 

Humming to herself y/n cheerfully went to Elio’s office. She felt so much better after that night, her first one of good sleep in years. Right before she reached for door handle her mind was engulfed with vision of way too bright light that caused her pain and out of it stepped Terminus holding a star in his hand, complicated sigil  drawn on it’s surface. Y/n felt her legs give up, she expected her body to hit the floor but then she felt the embrace of two strong arms, smell of fresh blood and Red Spider Lily flowers. Red, observant eyes of darkhaired male attentively checked for the shadow of discomfort in her eyes as he picked her up. She felt her cheeks blush under his gaze. 

 - Are you alright? - he asked.  

She wondered why a man with such an attractive, manly voice speaks so rarely. Yet when he did usually it was a witty response or a sharp remark. Out of all Stellaron Hunters he was the hardest to connect to, even Kafka allowed her closer than he ever did. Always so fixated on his pain and deathwish, he avoided anything that could get him attached back to his life, with exception of other Stellaron Hunters. Y/n hoped one day this privilege will also be hers to enjoy. She snapped out of her thoughts as Blade got concerned with her silence.  

 - I just had a vision. I need to go to Elio’s office, he should hear about this. 

 - No way I will let you go there on your own, you barely stand. - Blade sighed. - Let me carry you there if that really can’t wait.  

 *** 

Elio raised his tail up in excitement while he looked at the sigil’s sketch in front of him. 

 - So that’s what Terminus meant by those words last week. If I understand correctly this thing over here might be a special charm, when it’s put on a proper mechanism it allows to extract energy from stellarons, this might be a true revolution. Can you imagine? If we could use all those stellarons we sealed through the years to our advantage, one of the biggest threats against humanity working in it’s favour. Do you remember prototype we build in hopes of achieving such thing? 

 - Yes, I made sure craftsman working on it were the absolute best I could find. - claimed confidently Blade. - I took part of planning it’s design by myself, nothing had a chance to go wrong under my watch even if I couldn’t work on it with my hands. Yet, we failed. Do you suggest infusion could help the machine work in a more stable way? 

 - That’s what I believe Terminus tried to tell me. There is no time to waste, we need to act without hesitation. Y/n, are you ready for your first mission for Stellaron Hunters? - Elio asked tho he already knew the answer.  

 - Of course. - Y/n hurriedly assured him. - I am ready. 

 - Good – he purred in response – There is a stellaron in hands of IPC nearby that we can try your sigil and Blade’s machine on. Grab it from the workshop and you are ready to go. According to my visions everything should go smoothly. I will give you coordinates of the object, you must attempt to seal it within machine and bring it here. Blade already knows this particular base, he and Kafka had a mission there last week. It should be easy for you guys to not get caught redhanded. I don’t expect many guards in your way. Two of you will set off without delay.  

 *** 

Blade threw microwave-sized machine at the backseat of the red, old-fashioned car and closed the door. He sat at the drivers place. Y/n noticed how he checked in a discreet way if her seatbelt is fixed. She didn’t want to disturb him while he was driving so she concentrated on the highway in front of her. Not even ten minutes have passed when he initiated a conversation to her surprise. 

 - Aren’t you shocked that I know how to drive? People usually ask me about it. Not very unexpected concern if you take my narcolepsy, suicidal tendencies and constant mara attacks into consideration. - his eyes didn’t leave the road the whole time but she noticed a slight crooked grin on his face.  

 - Not very much, Silver Wolf told me you used to be a blacksmith on Xianzhou Zhuming, Furnace Master even. I worked there, infusing their weapons with charms, so I know just how much effort and talent it takes to achieve something like this in such place, full of geniuses. I am aware you created many complicated machines during your previous lifetime, so naturally I thought you would be into all things related to such things. - she tried so hard to not say anything stupid but butterflies she felt in her stomach betrayed her time and time again.  

 - So you two gossip about me in your free time? I could convince Kafka to give you both some more responsibilities around the house. Separately. - he threatened but badly hidden smile on his face showed he wasn’t really upset. - How are things on Xianzhou? I bet those self-centered, arrogant idiots haven’t changed a bit since I last saw them. Always so proud, on their Xianzhou ships, yet completely delusional in their pursuits. They condemned me but their sins are way heavier than mine. - Blade laughed in a bitter way. Since when was he so talkative? He never spoke much, but when she was around the most you could get out of him was maybe a short sentence despite the way he looked at her constantly. 

 - To be fair the only reason it still stands is general Jing Yuan. - y/n dared to criticize Xianzhou as she still felt betrayed by them after people she trusted almost handed her to IPC – He seems to be the only person there that uses their brain for something, so he is used by them day and night, he barely sleeps. 

 - It must be hard on him, I don’t remember much from my previous life including some habits of my former friends,  but from what I’ve heard his sleepiness is legendary. 

 - He is even called the slumbering general. - y/n admitted with a giggle. She hoped it wasn’t too enthusiastic. The thought of Blade somehow discovering her crush on Jing Yuan when she had a bit of a crush on him as well just didn’t sit with her right. Could you blame her? Almost every girl on Xianzhou Xianzhou was enchanted by talented general.  

 - Did they treat you well? - Blade looked at her this time, she knew she couldn’t lie under his penetrating gaze. He would figure her out in seconds.  

 - Yes, they did. I found many good colleagues in the forgery, but I never really became friends with anybody. I mostly kept to myself. The closest to a friend I had was Master Zhang.  

 - I don’t recall such name. - Blade slightly frowned.  

 - He was the one that warned me about IPC trying to get me, without him they would catch me without problem.- she mentioned Zhang with gratitude in her heart.  - Everybody else had no issue with turning me in, at least from what I’ve heard. I guess current Furnace Master didn’t plan to stay silent when he saw what my enchanted weapon could do if he could get on the good side of IPC at the tiny cost of one of his employees.  

Blade chuckled darkly.  

 - They turned their back on me as well. - his gaze went numb, he seemed to recall past grudges. Through gritted teeth he murmured – Out of five....three must pay the price. 

His grip on the driving wheel tightened. Y/n wondered if he was about to get mara struck and how should she behave if that happens, when a bullet broke the car glass in front of them and flew right by her left ear. 

[corrupteddoodles]

hi here’s my opinion on snow white 2025

let’s start with the positive! the visuals of the dwarves in the mines is really pretty. the light of the gems lighting up is beautiful but i can’t say i enjoy the dwarves design themselves. i also like how the home of the dwarves are super bright with warm and rustic colors while the kingdom and scenes where the guards are a threat have more muted colors and the kingdom itself is full with whites and blues

yea that’s where my praise ends. i don’t like how quickly the relationship between snow white and jonathan was. they knew eachother for One Single Day and they fell in love??? the evil queen sucks as well. she doesn’t come across as intimidating, and her voice doesn’t give me the vibes of a powerful and evil woman. the songs also drag on MUCH too long and i hate HATE HATE the change of the evil queens death being crushed by a boulder. they made her crumble??? due to a presumably magic crossbow?? she also shatters the magic mirror because it said she wasn’t the fairest of all and her crumbs are sucked into the mirror so that’s cool i guess. jonathan feels like an accessory who’s entire character enters around being a hunter and being snow whites love interest and i don’t see much of snow whites nature of being genuinely caring except for when she talks to dopey and when she frees jonathan at the start. also the scene where the huntsman is about to kill snow white, the acting is…eh? she does tear up but she shows little emotion at all. also the heart box thing kind of. is wrecked. in the remake the huntsman puts an apple in there? in the original movie the huntsman puts a pigs heart in there. did the queen not think to open the box to make sure the huntsman actually did the job? she only checks when the mirror says snow white is alive. wtf is she stupid????

i’m also not a fan of the epilogue. it of COURSE ends with a massive dance sequence but i don’t like the colors. everything from the architecture to the decorations to the clothes the characters wear are all white, and given the difference the kingdom has from the rule of the evil queen compared to the rule of snow white, it makes sense to assume quite some time as passed, but snowy white looks the exact same.

it’s mediocre at best and absolute trash at worst. it has a half baked love plot and multiple plot holes. not worth the hype. also boooo because lifeless cash grab disney remake. i do truly wish the entire movie could have been as charming as the heigh-ho scene with the dwarves working in the mines was. sadly, nearly everything is poor love delivery and poor plots. i like the og show white so seeing this one be butchered kinda hurts.

[niriaveil]

okay, i think i've finally had enough time to sort and process through my feelings re: veilguard so. under the cut are those

it's a good game.

it's not a perfect game, i think it almost qualifies as amazing - but it's good. it's not bad, it's not miserable to play. it's fun! i thoroughly enjoyed myself and loved throwing myself back into thedas, the lore, and all the characters. i truly loved every second i was playing that game.

but it's a good game, not a perfect one.

i know i've seen some people say, "it's not a GOOD dragon age game," which i can see but kind of argue against because like. each dragon age game is going to add in something different - it's like saying dragon age 2 isn't a good dragon age game because it doesn't deal with stuff like origins did; or how inquisition isn't a good dragon age game because it didn't do things like 2 did. it's the same step and dance.

i loved the characters and the companions, though i feel as if i didn't truly get to really know them - surface level, or maybe a little bit into their depths was all i got, which is fine. i don't mind headcanoning or creating my own stuff as i go, but it definitely felt a bit weird and one-dimensional at times. they live up to their titles, i think. which means that they're just really informed about what they do, but i don't really care much about their jobs - i wanted to know who they were.

yes, lucanis is an assassin who enjoys coffee; but he enjoys cooking for people and feeding them, he has a fascination with wyverns. he hates parties and enjoys spending time alone. what else does he do? why not be able to talk about what he COULD enjoy now with his freedom?

yes, taash is a dragon hunter; but what else do they do? they feed birds on the beach, talk to karash, and bicker with their mom. but what about for fun? why is it all tied up in lords of fortune? surely they've got more friends besides isabela.

it's sort of like that. neve is the detective; but i don't know what she likes doing beyond that - she skips rocks and only thinks about her job. bellara loves tinkering with elven artifacts and cooking; but i don't know her beyond that. davrin loves monster hunting and taking care of assan; but i don't know him beyond that. do you understand? it's very one-dimensional.

again, not a terrible thing. at least give me crumbs for understanding them. the one-off mention of lucanis enjoying wyverns and dragons was cute, but that was really all i got.

i also know the writing was a huge complaint but i just... didn't really have any lines that stood out to me as bad or awkward to listen to. could the writing have been better? oh, absolutely. but i believe that for every game. there's never a game where the writing is perfect and everyone is happy with it.

i enjoyed taash's crisis with their gender, i enjoyed them figuring out who they were. that felt good. i liked being able to subtly help people get together when i wasn't romancing them (taash and harding for my playthrough, it was lucanis and neve for my brother's) or even just being told that hey, emmrich and strife are dating now and it's good! i wish i just could've like... seen it? even as a mini-quest. don't even put me in rook's shoes, let me just meander as the other characters.

(emmrich quest where you send manfred to infilitrate the mansion. I SHOULD'VE BEEN PLAYING MANFRED I COULD'VE DONE IT─)

i think the main thing that like... mmm, bothers me, is the lack of nuance in the factions. at the end of the world (again), you take whatever allies you can get. but i wish we could've heard gossip about the horror stories of the crows always watching in treviso, i wish we could've seen rivain and how their people think of the lords of fortune who plunder and pillage ruins, i would've loved to see more gossip about the shadow dragons and their work in minrathous. maybe even reference a few quests i did?

i love the crows dearly, but they're also an incredibly dark and fucked up organization and the sanitation of that feels weird. did things change in the 20 years since zevran left? i'm not sure! it doesn't sound like it! i just don't get to find out for myself, which is a little frustrating. not enough for it to ruin things for me, but i'm like. man zevran what would you think of them now.

i also wish we had different cameos. seeing Isabela was cool, seeing Dorian and Maevaris in Minrathous working with the Shadow Dragons? so good. but I wish we could've seen like (sorry, this is Shadow Dragon biased because that was Inés's backstory) Fenris. what is my Hawke's husband doing? He was killing slavers and Venatori, wouldn't we at least KNOW of him? Merrill got a mention (Meribela W) by Isabela, but it wasn't enough for me :(

but also. I'm glad we didn't get more cameos. The Inquisitor felt almost shoe-horned in and the ending sequence just felt... weird for me. The secret ending without a Lavellan romancing Solas just felt... stiff? Like, Relihn pleading to Solas to choose a different path - but it just feels so flat. The difference between Velyna and Relihn's conversation to Solas is so staggering I just wish I had Velyna for my main playthrough because it would've hit harder than Relihn "puppy dog eyes" Trevelyan-Pavus being like 'hey. don't.'

(but I did love Dorian moaning about how much he misses his husband. great detail, 12/10. and then him worrying over Relihn at the end. 12/10. thank you. everything i needed).

They also can't just drop, "Yeah, Southern Thedas fell. Ferelden's basically gone, we haven't heard from Orzammar; Orlais is barely holding together. And the Free Marches pretty much only have Starkhaven left." And then not show me any of that. I'd take a fucking cutscene of the devastion over anything. When Relihn told that to Rook, I was like oh shit. But then again in the letters hearing about how bad it was while in Northern Thedas, we were just vibing - it was an odd dissonance. Not enough for me to be unhappy about the game, but I was like man. sucks to be in Southern Thedas rn.

I also - this is probably the luke-warm take from me - don't mind about my savegames not being imported. Would I have liked to hear about Alistair ruling Ferelden and leading it through a 2nd blight? Oh yeah. What about my Hawke helping in Kirkwall with the help of her Grey Warden brother? Would've been cool, but also I was like. Meh, it's fine. I prefer thinking of my own ways to deal with that.

If they tried to bring back like major characters as a little cameo, I would've just rolled my eyes. I didn't want it to be like Avengers: Endgame where everyone is there, just idk. tell me they're eating food and getting sunlight.

I was a little sad about how slow the romances progress but also, it's whatever. I'm kind of used to it from Inquisition? Dorian and Relihn also didn't get a lot of scenes, so this was something I was quite used to with Rook and Lucanis, but I did enjoy that it gave me enough of a starting point to get writing with.

And I'm disappointed that we're not getting any DLC because I do believe we have such good set-up with all the eluvians and the Crossroads. I know the Executors are being set up for DA5, but I wouldn't have minded something in between. (Damn you ME5 for bringing back Shepard and demanding the teams attention *shaking fist*).

Anyway, those are my thoughts. It's a good game, it's fun. I loved the characters. I loved being able to explore. The maps were big enough but not overbearing like in DA:I. The banter was funny too. I loved the Lighthouse and being able to listen in on conversation.

Probably an 8/10 for me. I still have my complaints and gripes, but I don't care enough to be constantly critical of it. It was fun, I'm not gonna bitch about what I wanted and how they fucked up at x/y/z.

[lt-doberman]

📱a report. Uhhhhhh (￣^￣)ゞ

📱from a hunters standpoint: John is classified as a Rank A 'Devil' Magician. His weaknesses come from overconfidence, extreme drug and alcohol abuse, as well minor things like slow reaction time. I distinctly remember his chest being a weak point, but I don’t remember how or where that tidbit is from. Maybe it was sensitive or something???

📱uh

📱but you want to know for relationships. Mhhhfjdjf

📱he really liked sweets. Actually. And he eats like a slob, would get crumbs n stuff in his stubble.

📱enjoys sleeping with stuff. M sure he likes stuff animals.

📱and he really enjoyed proving himself with uh puzzle or something. Idk. Likes to brag. And he likes to fight. Anything he can win. When he doesn’t win he gets cruel.

📱I’m pretty sure he likes tight clothing, not in a . Weird let’s fuck sorta way either, he said he likes seeing the person underneath. But maybe he was lying, he does that.

📱when it comes to gifts. I think something small works best. A friend of mine once told me he used a lighter rather than magic because doing something normal grounded him. Little things like that will get his attention, so yeah.

📱also hes probably weak to holy water. I think. I didn’t get to test that.

📱was this helpful???

☏

♣

"HELL-OH! If you are receiving this message we have flagged YOU as a potential shapeshifter! Obviously if you ARE a real shapeshifter you won’t respond, so call back if you don’t want to be flagged on our next extermination run! You have 12 hours. This is Lieutenant Doberman, call me back!"

(Vague Voicemail.)

———

(5:32 PM) (Daire Woods.)

📱I GOT THE CASE REPORT YOU WANTED BOSS.

📲 (Daire Woods. Sent over a file.)

[The file was titled 'Krueal Family Report', while it was password locked you could see the abstract from the text.]

📱go get him tiger ٩( 'ω' )و

(6:03 PM) (Daire Woods.)

📱OH MY GODS

📱sorry claude, that wasn’t meant for you.

📱please ignore it Σ（・□・；）

📱 howdo I delete a message

(Wrong number.)

[llamagoddessofficial]

Hello! Me again! *waves enthusiastically* your page is legit a rabbit hole, I’ve read just about everything on your AO3, and I just found your ghost hunter AU.. do you have anymore head cannons for it? Like.. a crumb I’m so desperate to see if there’s anymore Info 🥹🥹

ohohohohoho...... headcanons for the ghost hunter au? why, of course,,,

People who genuinely have some kind of paranormal Sight don’t actually tend to pick up anything directly from the guys, because they’re so good and well-practised at disguising their powers and bad vibes. Ironically, the more powerful a demon is, the better they can cover their power. Someone would, however, get weird bad vibes from Mc; they’ve all put possessive marks on her. Despite her smiles and enthusiasm, her demon guard dogs have made her reek of demonic energy. 

The little Youtube account Mc has made to document her ghost exploration has made Red and Sans something of a devoted following. They like Sans’ humour, and they think Red is hot. This is, ironically, the equivalent of a small snack for them- groups of people unknowingly devoting thoughts and energy to active archdemons.

Skull face reveal at 1M followers!!!

We all know ghosts will flee the demon trio. Sometimes it gets Mc down, when she goes into a location famous for hauntings, all her gear ready and her spirits high (pun intended)... and she gets absolutely no activity. Seeing her down makes the guys feel bad, especially since Red and Sans are playing the parts of snarky sceptics. Behind her back, they goad or bully ghosts into making appearances just to get her excited again.

(Their method of bullying the ghosts is by threatening to feed them to Skull. It’s a very effective threat because they absolutely will go ahead with it if a brave/stupid soul doesn’t comply.)

Even better if there’s another demon there, because there’s few things Red enjoys more than picking on lesser demons

The guys are capable of using their energy to disrupt electrical equipment. Sans is particularly adept at this, precise and deliberate, he can disrupt very specific parts of machines or video feeds to his liking. Red only does it if he’s annoyed and fluctuations in power from a cranky Skull can break all kinds of equipment.

Luckily for Mc, Skull has never broken any of her important ghost hunting equipment, because he never gets angry when she’s ghost hunting. She’s just too cute, overexcited and starry-eyed, it’s like following around a hyperactive kitten. How could he ever be even CLOSE to upset?

... He has, however, accidentally busted a few TVs. 

If Sans thinks one of her ghost encounters is getting too good, ie; she’s about to successfully film a full-body apparition, he’ll use his abilities to disrupt the feed and remove the footage. Blame it on the ghosts.

Red has bullied at least one demon into abandoning a very popular demonically haunted area. He hopes to increase that number.

[tequiilasunriise]

Alright, so I just made a Wenclair post but imma make another one right now because oh my LORD I just saw the fandom breaking reviews, so sit down and grab a snack because it’s rambling time.

I see that many of you are discouraged from the prospect of Wenclair not being canon, this is understandable as I myself am really invested in these two. Hopefully this goes without saying, but NO ONE should hate on the show, the actors, etc etc. I refuse to let such toxicity run through this fandom. Like, this is just reviews for the first season. Please, I really, really don’t want a repeat of the Voltron fandom and cries of queerbaiting (and I wasn’t even remotely near being part of the Voltron fandom! It just got THAT bad that even I knew of its notorious reputation). Again, the show isn’t even out yet. Who’s to say Hunter going ‘fighting for Wenclair’ didn’t mean the course of their relationship in future seasons? We only have information on a first season that isn’t even out yet, so please, calm down on any hate and queerbaiting accusations.

That being said- y’all telling me you’re not buckled down for a slow burn? Wednesday is a character who needs a LOT of time and effort to build trust with on a romantic relationship level, so getting Wenclair all in one season would have been cool or whatever, but it also would’ve been pretty OOC since season one has confirmed only 8 episodes. On the flipside, the payoff of Wenclair’s growing friendship, that blooming trust, the eventual deep bond between them that not even Wednesday herself can deny? Is that not peak sapphic experience? Frenemies to begrudging allies to ‘I find your existence… not the worst’ ‘ppfft, thanks, Addams’ to friends to friends who would murder fer each other to ‘you are the sun that burns and enchants me, I hope this drought lasts a lifetime’. LIKE C’MON??? THE FLAVOR?? Don’t give up on Wenclair just yet y’all. (That being said, the line about droughts should be in a fanfic so imma mark that down fer later.)

And like, I think this next point is the most important thing to note. We all acknowledged our love for Wenclair as a delusion, ever since the beginning we knew we were pulling crumbs and making silly little headcanons. Yes, I would love if Wenclair became canon. Would I stop shipping it if it never does, though? Let’s see, I am a veteran Whiterose shipper of several years. Those two barely had a conversation in the entirety of Volume 8 and I am STILL willing to die on this hill fer them. I am a Lightcannon enjoyer despite the next to NOTHING crumbs in the entirety of their respective existences. Oh, you would not believe how many rarepairs I hold dear in the Pokémon world. The list goes on and on and on. Canon is cool and all but I hoard my random ships like a dragon of ye olde. Just look at what we, the OG Wenclair Warriors, made with just a few trailers and interviews and random instagram comments. The lovely art, the heart wrenching fanfics, the god tier headcanons. I dunno bout yall, but I’m not ready to give that all up just because canon said ‘mmmm no’. If no one got me, ao3 got me.

Trust me, I am well-aware the importance of good representation and I’m not saying you can’t be disappointed over this. What I am saying, however, is that you shouldn’t always let canon 100% dictate how you’re going to consume and enjoy a piece of media. So what if Wenclair isn’t canon? Their dynamic is AMAZING and nothing can take that away from me. There’s still potential and writing room for future seasons, and to that I say buckle down homies, we in it fer a long time and a good time.

[nerfpuncher]

Inspired by @dangracoon s out of context family quotes.

Please enjoy the Bad Batch as out of context CB conversations between my coworkers and myself.

Hunter: What took you so long getting back to the field.

Wrecker: I had to use the truck to stop traffic so I could help a momma duck and her ducklings cross the road.

Echo: oh that's valid

Tech: If it leaks oil it has oil.

Echo: I can follow your leak down the road like a bread crumb trail.

Tech: Well you won't get lost then will you?

Crosshair: I gave my Coke dealer our CB frequency so she can tell me when she pulls up to the field.

Cid: sup fuckers

Hunter: you WHAT?!

Wrecker: why does your dealer have a CB in her car??

Omega: 🎶Baby shark do do dodo🎶

Echo: Omega sweet heart we love it when you come to work with your dad but if you don't stop singing into the CB I'm going to drive myself into on coming traffic.

Crosshair: The tritcale bag at the dairy is looking thick this morning.

Crosshair: I should call her.

Echo: I'm so fucking tired.

Hunter: did I just see you shot gun a Monster??

Echo: mind ya business

Crosshair: this field is so rough I feel like I need a safeword

Hunter: Did you just jump in the canal??

Wrecker: yeah some of us don't get the luxury of getting to drive a truck with working AC

Hunter: haha fucking peasant

Crosshair: oh to be a dairy cow and get my titties sucked on a daily schedule.

Crosshair: I should really call her.

Hunter: why are Wrecker and Crosshair not answering their CBs?

Tech: They swapped to a different channel to talk to long haul truckers on the highway.

Wrecker: so guess who just got invited to join a cult?!

Crosshair: Tritcale in this field looking fuckin wet today

Hunter: if you don't fucking call her I will and you don't want that

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Dean and The Dragon

Author: WhiskyBoys

Artist: blueteainfusion

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Dean/Cas, mentioned past Dean/others

Length: 36000

Warnings: No major archive warnings, some homophobia, swearing.

Tags: Gay but not out Dean, oblivious Sam, hurt Dean, protective Cas, John Winchester’s A+ parenting

Posting Date: October 17, 2022

Summary: Dean and Sam Winchester work for the family business. The family business being Supernatural Hunter, a periodical magazine, book series and also, thanks to Sam, a YouTube channel. They tour the country debunking ghost stories and, on rare occasions, banishing ghosts. When their Dad sends Sam and Dean on a wild monster chase, Dean isn’t impressed. The Loch Ness monster isn’t real and it damn sure isn’t living in Dunvegan, Montana.  One thing Dunvegan does have though is Cas. The hottest motel manager Dean has ever set eyes on. And a man that might just be worth the risk of Sam finding out that Dean’s not nearly, as in not at all, as straight as his family thinks.  But, as it turns out, Cas and Dean are both hiding secrets, and John Winchester probably isn’t going to like either.  

Excerpt: Dean moans contentedly around another spoonful of pie, the pastry so light it’s literally melting in his mouth. Before he knows it, he’s scraping the last crumbs of pie crust and the final smears of filling from his plate.  “That was freaking delicious,” he says, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “We never would have guessed, what with all the pornographic moaning.” Sam glares across the table at him. His own fruit salad barely touched. Dean shrugs; the dude should have ordered the pie. “God, Dean, you’re so embarrassing. Sometimes I’m not sure how we can be related.” Dean bristles a little at that, though he tries to hide it. He knows Sam doesn’t mean to sound like he thinks he’s better than Dean, but he does have a tendency to sound like a stuck-up asshole occasionally. It’s not as if Dean doesn’t know that he’s the dumbest of the Winchesters without being constantly reminded. “There’s nothing wrong with enjoying your food, Dean,” Cas says from his seat at the table beside them. For some reason he’s glaring quite pointedly at Sam. Dean had been so enraptured by his pie, he’d momentarily forgotten Cas was there. And the fact that a few minutes ago he was all but fellating his spoon in the middle of a public diner, is possibly why Sam is quite so pissed.  Cas didn’t appear to mind.  Cas’ glare morphs into a sheepish apology of a smile when Sam and Dean turn in unison to look at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just, well, it’s nice to see someone enjoying the little things in life. And Donna’s pie is delicious. She would be delighted to see you enjoying it so much.” “If he enjoyed it any more, we’d have to start charging by the minute,” Sam huffs, but he makes an effort to flash a smile, only slightly strained, at Cas as he says it.  Dean decides he has a sudden need to pee. Which he probably shouldn’t have announced quite so loudly before fleeing to the men’s room, but hell, he’s already wallowing in embarrassment, what’s one more kick to his pride.  He’s washing his hands and splashing cold water onto his heated face when it occurs to him that he left the hot guy who jacked him off last night and his brother sitting a table apart in the diner.  Twenty seconds later, he’s striding back out of the men’s room. “You ready to go, Sammy? Come on, I’ll pay the bill.” “I was going to order some coffee actually,” Sam says. “Cas was telling me about the local…” “Daylight’s wasting, Sam. That lake isn’t going to investigate itself.” Dean slides his wallet out of his back pocket and throws enough bills down on the table to cover the meal, plus a very healthy tip.  “What the hell? Are you high?” Sam grumbles.

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