#give me a wide berth LMFAO

[cerbreus]

i may be bad at many, many video games. but i am comically bad at rdr2

[seoafin]

pls enlighten me on the fandom etiquettes cuz I kinda forgot about it

i’m sure there’s a way more in depth list floating around somewhere but basic things like giving proper warnings, tagging long posts, nsfw content (i could go into a whole rant on nsfw etiquette esp around minors but unfortunately that’s rarely followed on here so it’s kinda hopeless at this point), being respectful to other creators, etc.

also i feel like this should be obvious but like. don’t plagiarize!!!

there’s also a bunch of ppl who reposted works from tumblr onto wattpad and thought it was perfectly okay and idk those people coming onto tumblr/ao3 makes me kinda 😐

EDIT: I FORGOT DONT REPOST ART DONT REPOST ART DONT RESPOST ART. EVEN IF YOU GIVE CREDIT IF YOU DONT HAVE PERMISSION DONT DO IT.

(that's why I like when you guys send me links. pls don't send me images unless you have permission. also just a heads up if I see you have obviously reposted images on your blog I block.)

[thosewickedlovelies]

Into the Woods: chapter 2  |  Frankie Morales x GN!Reader

Summary: Instagram stalking ensues. Will you run into Frankie again?

Tags: no warnings AGAIN this is weird for me too but as mentioned I do have some smut planned for these two if anyone needs more incentive to read lmfao

Word Count: 2,783

A/N: As always, endless love to @yoditorian for this idea and her supervision of my writing about a social media platform I do not use 💗💚💗

Backstory / chap 1 /

---

Later that night, Frankie sits at his desk, poring over maps both digital and physical. Where could you live to have traveled to the same point in the forest as him within a day? He’s hiked along the edge of his side of the woods, and knows that unless he’s missed some major construction, you can’t be there. So now he studies the other side of the treeline, looking at the closeness of the towns, any tiny side roads that could lead to individual houses like his own. But his frustration is growing.

There aren’t any. Not any within feasible walking distance, at least. And you hadn’t been grubby enough to have been camping. Frankie frowns, tracing the small highway which cuts through the forest. There, not far from the turnoff to his home, was a parking lot at the start of a web of trails through the woodland. If you started there and completely ignored the predetermined paths, heading a course straight for the pond...

“Huh,” Frankie murmurs. It wasn’t much further of a hike than his own. So that means you don’t live within walking distance- he shakes off an odd twinge of disappointment at that- but he does have an idea of your hiking range, if he felt like trying to seek you out.

He shakes his head. Don’t be weird. That was something Santiago might do- deliberately roam where he knew you regularly went in order to find you again. Frankie isn’t nearly so forward. His style is slower, less aggressive. What he’s already planning is his next cooking trip to the pond. Plants need water, and you forage for plants- he figures it’s a likely spot to run into you a second time.

Frankie hadn’t spoken to you again after you’d parted today. Only caught glimpses of you through the trees, from where he had dutifully remained by his fire. But at some point between the twisting of the campfire smoke from one way to another you had vanished, and not long after, Oso had returned to him, flopping down on her side with a satisfied huff.

He snorted. “Well, I’m glad you got to make a new friend.” Frankie rubbed her belly with only a little jealousy.

Now, feeling restless, he decides to upload the pictures he took today. He’s almost immediately distracted, however, by a string of likes from a new follower- concluding with a familiar photo of Oso and Gloriana. A prickle of excitement runs through him at a reference to foraging in the username. No way.

Frankie leans forward in his seat, straining for a closer look at the profile picture. A grin spreads across his face when the page finally loads.

It’s you. You, mid-laugh, perched comfortably up on a sturdy tree branch. He quickly scrolls down to confirm; but this is definitely you. Lots of photos of plants, and woodland that looks remarkably familiar. Your bare feet in a stream. A busy street at afarmer’s market, you smiling with a stall owner.

Frankie laughs out loud at the sheer absurdity of it. Here he was, worried about coming off as a mega-creep, and you’ve already shamelessly checked him out on instagram. He’s never hit ‘Follow Back’ so fast in his life.

--

You try to quash the squirmy anticipation in your belly as you pull on your pack, organizing yourself for the walk ahead. There’s no reason to get excited, you scold yourself. Even if you do see Frankie again, you still don’t really know anything about him.

You’d tried to stalk him online, but there wasn’t much information to go off of from his instagram photos. The pictures themselves spoke volumes, though. You’d always thought you could tell a little something of people’s personalities from what they posted, especially from pictures with their friends. Frankie’s main group of friends had a certain look about them- military maybe, a sort of cocky surety in their posturing. Despite this, they’re often grinning in candid moments, a relaxed, unself-conscious affection between the men which endeared them to you. Them, and Frankie. It’s a shame he doesn’t post more photos of himself. You recall again the sight of him in the woods, shafts of sunlight striking his expressive features, illuminating his kind smile and earthen eyes.

Then you shake your head. Too much time alone with your ever-churning thoughts have you romanticizing your meeting, when in reality you have no reason to expect to run into him again. He’d said he was out there all the time, but you’d never spotted evidence of any fires, or of a giant dog gallivanting around the place. Maybe he didn’t mean the pond specifically, but the forest in general.

“Argh!” Looking around, you stomp your foot in frustration. In your distraction, your walking pace had slowed, and you weren’t as far along in your hike as you should have been. Resolving to focus on your surroundings (because you won’t see Frankie again if you don’t get to the pond in good time), you splash some water on your face to refresh yourself and stride onward.

As you get closer to your pond, you slow down again, this time deliberately. All your senses strain for any sign of Frankie, but you don’t hear or see anything out of the ordinary. Then you smell it.

Smoke.

For a moment you panic. Is it wildfire season? Can you run away from a forest fire? Who do you call for this??

Then you smell something else- something familiar and edible- and you nearly pop yourself in the forehead. Of course you smell smoke, you idiot. What did Frankie say he did out here?? Cooked. You were literally just thinking about his instagram.

What is that smell? You have got to see this.

You step carefully to avoid making too much noise in the brush. Now that you’re looking for it, the gray haze of campfire smoke is obvious as it drifts through the trees. You give its source a wide berth, hoping for a chance to observe Frankie without him knowing.

Your wish is granted. You’ve come at him from the side, and now have an excellent view of his profile, his eyes narrowed in concentration as he stirs something in the heavy-looking pan in front of him. After a minute he looks satisfied, and retrieves the pan’s lid from behind him, arcing his arm carefully over the flames as he places it. Frankie sits back, a gusty sigh blowing from his lips.  As you watch, he tosses his cap to the side, running his hands through loose curls and scratching his fingers across his scalp. You bite your lip in a smile at the sight of his moment of self-indulgence.

You scan Frankie’s setup and the area around him, searching for-

“Ruff!” The dog you were looking for crashes through the bushes beside you, and you yelp in surprise, automatically stooping to soothe her.

Dammit, how does such a large animal keep sneaking up on you?

“Oso?” Frankie calls. He’s standing now, still hatless, a few steps closer to you than where he’d been sitting. He glances uncertainly between the fire and your approximate location. You hear him try your name next.

You swear quietly. “No, not you,” you add to Oso.

“It’s me,” you reply, straightening. “Sorry, Oso got me again.”

The pleased, upward tilt of his lips reverses as he shakes a stern finger at his dog, whose ears perk happily at all the attention. “What did I tell you? No more accosting strangers!” he scolds, though he doesn’t sound the least bit upset.

With a expectant glance at you, Oso trots back over to him. Frankie ruffles her ears, definitively undermining any negative impact his words might have had. You regard each other tentatively.

“Hi,” you say lamely.

His face crinkles back up into a smile. “Hi,” he returns. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Every possible conversation you’d mentally practiced since your first meeting flew right out of your head. “Well, you know.” You shrug lightly. “A person’s gotta eat.” Inwardly you cringe.

But Frankie is unphased. “I’d be really interested to hear about the kinds of stuff you find out here. This is almost ready, if you don’t feel like foraging for your lunch today.” He gestures behind him to the pan on the fire.

You hesitate, and Frankie seems to sense your uncertainty. “Only if you want.” He holds his hands up in a universal ‘no pressure’ sign, even going so far as to take a step back in emphasis.

You tell yourself to stop being so paranoid. This is what you wanted, after all. All your curiosity comes surging back as the wind shifts and the smell of his cooking sets your stomach growling. “Okay,” you agree. “Yeah, that would be nice.”

“Great!” Frankie beams. He turns- and promptly trips over Oso, still sitting beside him.

“Fuck!” He curses, hands hitting the ground on the other side of his dog.

You clap a hand over your mouth to muffle your laughter. Is he always this prone to falling over? “Are you okay?” You make your way over to them.

“Yeah.” Now upright, Frankie seems flustered to find you so much nearer than before, his gaze flitting over you before he remembers himself. He turns to crouch by the fire again, snatching up his hat and re-securing it on his head.

You seat yourself a short distance away and observe. Oso has reclined on her belly on Frankie’s other side, her eager gaze fixed on the pan as he prods the food. Apparently deeming it finished, he retrieves three paper bowls from his bag and fills one each for you, himself, and Oso. With a small flourish and a nervous smile, he presents yours to you.

“Thank you.” You feel like maybe you should say something else, but he’s already moved to face Oso, murmuring something to her while he gives her her bowl. You decide to let the food do the talking.

And are glad you did when fresh, vibrant flavors flood your tongue. Your eyes flutter wide with surprise. “Wow, this is...incredible. How did you..?” You look between the steaming pan and his rucksack, unable to reconcile the feast of flavors in your bowl with how much you’d have to carry out here to achieve it.

The man blushes at your praise, gaze lowering briefly to hide his pleasure, but he looks back up at your question. “Trade secrets,” Frankie says solemnly. Then he drops the expression with a little laugh, his confidence clearly bolstered by your amazement.

“Just kidding, I’ll tell you. If-” he points his plastic spoon at you “-you tell me how we haven’t crossed paths before.”

That’s a fair deal, especially if it means you get to learn more about him. “I’ll do my best,” you promise. In between bites, you outline your gradual exploration of your surroundings upon moving into a nearby village a little over two years ago. This year, you decided to strike out into new territory- this forest.

“I found this pond pretty quickly and saw the blackberry bushes right at the end of the season last year. I’ve been coming here ever since, keeping an eye on it I guess. But this whole wood is really a gold mine.”

Frankie looks fascinated. “I had no idea. I know some plants, but I couldn’t even begin to guess what all is out here.” His mouth opens to ask more questions, but it’s your turn now.

“What about you?” you quiz. “How have I not seen you before if you’re out here ‘all the time’?”

“Well, I’ve been working my way over from the other side of the hill.” Frankie explains, gesturing to the gentle ascending slope behind him. “I only found this place earlier this year. Didn’t know it was someone else’s territory.” He offers an apologetic grin, and you duck your head, feeling a silly, pleased warmth in your cheeks.

“Anyway, I moved into my place over there about five years ago? But I had a lot to do at first. I made a ton of improvements to the house, I was starting a garden. The hiking was kind of a refuge from that at first, a way to quiet my thoughts when I was stressing myself out.” He admits this last part without looking at you, as if his stress is somehow something to be ashamed of.

“But then I realized that I actually enjoyed it, and it made me feel safer to know the woods in so much detail. So I made it a hobby. Started taking longer walks, mapping where I’d been. Brought whole meals instead of little snacks,” he adds wryly.

You laugh as his humor registers, completely engrossed in Frankie’s tale. He seems to notice this suddenly, and shuffles a little under your attention. “So that’s me,” he concludes, clearing his throat self-consciously.

Any foraging you intended to do today has long been forgotten. You’ve been sitting with your backpack on long enough that your shoulders have begun to ache, and you sling it off impatiently. Frankie seems to further relax himself at the sight of you settling in, leaning back on his hands, his empty bowl given to Oso to lick clean.

There’s one question that hasn’t been answered. “...so how did you end up on instagram?” you probe.

He laughs outright. “I wondered how long it would take you to ask,” Frankie teases. His lopsided grin suggests he knows the impression he gives off. His mirth is infectious, and you find yourself grinning back at him, although you refuse to be embarrassed. He was the one who had thrown his phone at you, after all. And he had stalked your profile right back.

“Well, I’m no photographer,” he begins. “But I like the act of taking pictures. Really stopping and looking at what’s around you, what captures your attention. I was in the army before this, and it was just in-and-out of so many places, not actually experiencing anywhere for real…” Frankie watches you from the corner of his eye, speaking slowly, as if reluctant to say something which might change your opinion of him.

“My friend’s wife- the one whose kid I’m godfather to- suggested I use instagram as a way to organize my photos, but also ‘so they know I’m still alive out here.’” He chuckles. “I kinda like it now- it’s like a public diary. Mostly it was a relief to find that I’m not the only weirdo out there who likes cooking in the woods.”

You breathe a laugh reflexively, but your mind is turning over his words. I keep an instagram, he’d said before. Like a diary. Well, that’s...really cute, actually.

“Well, that makes me feel really shallow,” you joke, unable to think of any deeper response to his unexpectedly meaningful answer.

“Nah.” Frankie dismisses your quip with an easy smile. He asks you about yourself, then. How you got into foraging, other questions inspired by the pictures he’d seen on your page.

For awhile you converse with the uncomplicated lightness of two strangers who know absolutely nothing about each other, but want to. As a dessert offering, you take out the tub of blackberries you’d gathered earlier. Frankie’s eyes widen at their size, fatter than any berry he’d see in the supermarkets.

His freely shared emotions- fascination, curiosity, delight- continue to confirm your impression of him. Safe. His mouth works as he savors the sweet fruit, lips puckering, head nodding in close-eyed approval.

You will yourself not to stare. Looking elsewhere, you glance up at the sky- and the angle of the sun sends you leaping to your feet. “Shit-”

Frankie startles. “What’s wrong?” He tenses, but remains seated. Oso jerks to wakefulness where she’d been dozing by his side.

“I’ve got to start back if I don’t want to be out here at night.” Hurriedly you check your phone to be sure of the time, your heart rate slowing upon seeing it’s not as late as you thought.

Frankie stands now to hand you back your container, still mostly full of berries. You pause. “Keep it,” you tell him. “Make yourself a campfire dessert.”

His lips part in surprise, but you step back before he can protest. “Or at least take them as a thank you. For the food...and the company.”

He purses his lips. “All right. I’ll save making dessert for next time, though.” He subtly searches for your reaction to his implied invitation.

Anticipation lightens your limbs, but you keep your feet firmly planted on the earth. “Next time.” You’re not sure you manage to smother the excitement in your smile.

---

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb, @computeringturtle, @tobealostwanderer

[officially-dumb]

Heroes learning about what Hawks' mission entailed, immediately going /wtf/ and becoming way more wary of him as a result is incredible. But imagine if while creepy Hawks is being creepy, everyone is slightly disturbed by him /except/ Best Jeanist. Other pros begin to hesitate talking to him meanwhile Jeanist acts like the whole nomu-state ploy was just some crazy weekend shenanigans. Give me real bro Jeanist who has roughly figured out who Hawks is and doesn't bat an eye no matter what he says.

AHHHH omg you have the best thoughts!!

Yeah, I’m obsessed with this idea now, thank you. People have always given Hawks a wide berth, but before it was b/c they thought he was an asshole. Now they’re mildly scared of him, which leaves him feeling,,, differently about it.

Aw but lmfao I think the funniest reveal for this arc is that Jeanist is apparently completely batshit. Like who the hell agrees to a plan like that. I adore the idea of him being completely casual about all of Hawks’ spy stuff and government history (just don’t try to get Jeanist to comfort him on his family drama b/c he’s apparently bad at that lmaoooo). Another pro tries to ask him if he was threatened into it and he’s just like “You think I’d turn down a free 3 month vacation??”

I know a lot of people are curious about how civilians are gonna react to Hawks killing Jeanist, but I’d also love to see some of the pros discussing it. If everything he’s done comes out, who is gonna denounce him and who will support him?

[prettyboybarzal]

From that prompt list, number 33? With any player? Could be fun 😄

of course!!! 💛 i chose dunner because the little shit has crept back into my heart (like he ever left lmfao)

requests from this list are open!!!

The thing about Sammy Blais was that he always had tricks up his sleeve. Whether it was on the ice or in his own personal life, he always had a way to get what he wanted. It was his charm, that subtle French accent, his carefree attitude. Vince envied it and admired it, and that’s one of the many reasons he moved in with him. He was hoping Sammy’s personality would rub off on him.

Vince was quieter, though the persona he shared on his streams was a bit less reserved. He kept to himself, kept his head low, and stayed out of trouble. When they won the Stanley Cup last season, he flourished in the spotlight and even hosted a party in Toronto to celebrate. But at the end of the night, he was happy to be alone in his apartment. 

And then came you.

Colton started bringing you around the next season. You’d just moved to St. Louis for a job opportunity, and Colton was a childhood friend who offered his couch in the Lou to everyone and anyone when he was visiting home during the off season. So when you got the job offer, he was the first person you called.

He insisted that you come out with the team and their girlfriends once you were settled because, and I quote, “I can’t be your only friend around here. We’ll get bored of each other too quickly.”

They were all so kind, embracing you like you were one of their own simply because you were Colton’s friend. But, of the entire team and significant others, Vince and Sammy were your favorites. They took to you immediately, especially Vince.

It was love at first sight, at least that’s what Sammy claims. Every time he says it, though, Vince gives him a swift kick to the shin. He just thought you were pretty, and funny, and smart. He loved the way you cared about the people around you. He loved that you didn’t mind spending hours on his couch on the weekends. He loved that if he didn’t feel like going out, he could count on you to stay in with him.

To Vince, you were perfect. But you also seemed incredibly unattainable. 

Everyone in your friend group knew he had a crush, except you. He wondered if maybe you did and you were just hoping it would never come up so that you wouldn’t have to turn him down. It kept him from making any moves, or really admitting any feelings. 

It made Sammy crazy because all he ever heard was Vince moping and whining and pining after you. Yet, he wasn’t doing anything about it. So, he came up with a plan.

“This is the stupidest plan I’ve ever heard,” Vince grumbled to Sammy as they stepped into Colton’s living room. His eyes had fallen on you almost immediately. Sammy chuckled under his breath, turning to face his roommate with a raised brow. “When do we start?”

“Right now.”

As if on cue, you sidled up beside Sammy. Your arm slipped around his waist easily, leaning into his embrace as he pulled you into his side.

“I was wondering when you two would show up,” you greeted. You reached out one hand and tugged at the hem of Vince’s t-shirt, billowing around his body as if it was a size too big. “Fashionably late as always, Dunner.”

“Dunner had a date,” Sammy informed you, leaning to whisper in your ear. You felt the blood drain from your face. Vince’s cheeks lit up pink. “Our boy’s growing up!”

“Seems like it,” you murmured. “I’m going to go find Colton.”

Vince watched as you slipped away and out of his sight, then turned back to Sammy with a desperate look. 

“That went well,” he said sarcastically.

“It went exactly how it was supposed to go,” Sammy pointed out. “She was devastated.”

“Devastated is a stretch.”

“Listen to me,” Sammy continued. “Give her a wide berth. Let her overthink a little bit. I promise that by the end of the night she’ll be bubbling over with jealousy.”

Vince did as he was told. Sammy seemed too confident in himself for Vince not to listen. He spent the night mingling with his teammates and a few of the single girls at the party for good measure. Every once in a while, he’d peek around the room for you just to make sure you hadn’t left. 

And then he met your eyes and you nodded towards the balcony.

“So, who’s the lucky girl?” you asked once the door had been shut. The music drowned out behind it as you leaned against the ledge and gazed at him with a critical eye.

“What girl?” he asked, genuinely confused by the question for a moment. You laughed into your drink and he realized. “Oh, yeah, my date.”

“Must not have been very memorable,” you teased. He chuckled softly, though a lengthy pause followed it. You grew impatient as you waited for him to elaborate about the mystery girl or the date or really anything about his personal life. 

The idea of Vince being with someone that wasn’t you didn’t sit right. 

“Can I be honest?” he asked, turning to lean his elbow against the ledge of the balcony. You nodded, turning to face him. “There was no date, and there is no girl. It was just one of Sammy’s stupid ideas. You know the type.”

“You know Sammy’s plans never go well.”

“I don’t know,” he murmured. A grin spread across his face. “This one is working pretty well. You don’t seem super happy that I had a fake date earlier tonight.”

“Obviously I wasn’t happy,” she muttered. “You tell me everything.”

“That’s why you weren’t happy?” he asked. He straightened up, feeling a bit more confident as you seemed to waver. “Not because you thought I was on date with someone other than you?”

“Jesus, Vince,” you grumbled. Shaking hands came up to brush the hair out of your face. You turned and gazed out at the city. He sighed heavily before taking a step forward and nudging your hip so that you’d look up at him.

“Come on, YN,” he cooed. “I can’t get a good read on you. I’ve been too scared to actually ask if you have feelings for me because I don’t wanna freak you out or ruin our friendship. Sammy talked me into this stupid idea and--”

You cut him off with a kiss. It was soft and slow, and while his hands remained against the ledge of the balcony, yours curled around the back of his neck and into his hair. When you pulled away, his eyes were still closed and his lips were parted. They fluttered open to gaze at you.

“Can you get a good read on me now?”

“I think you might have to kiss me again.”

[firelord-frowny]

so like. 

i have tickets to see aurora tonight. bought them like 6 months ago. forgot about it until yesterday. i’m sure when i bought them, it was with the hope that covid would be settled down enough that i’d feel safe going to such an event. 

but that’s not exactly the case. 

i mean, i’m more-or-less at ease with like... going to the grocery store or something. places that, though public, have plenty of room to give a wide berth, and most people still seem to wear masks, and there’s a safe bet that everyone there is from within the community. like, nobody’s coming from montgomery county to go to my local grocery store lmfao. 

but apparently the concert venue isn’t requiring masks, so that’s uhhh Yuck. 

and it’s EXTRA yuck bc the concert is sold out. and there’s no indication that the venue has committed to any sort of reduced capacity. 

and that’s SUPER extra yuck because obviously people are likely to travel a bit for concerts, so it’s safe to assume that there might be people coming from other counties and maybe other states, which makes me even more worried about covid spread.

and obviously since i fucking forgot about the concert, i dont really have anyone to go with, and i was gonna ask my mom to go with me, but if masks aren’t required, and the venue is sold out at full capacity, i don’t wanna bring my mamma into that environment. 

:(

i’m sad and grumpy. 

[solosatan]

For the MC ask meme: 2, 4, 12, 13? Or just pick your favorites if that's too many?

no worries, i can talk for hours -- everything after 2 is under the cut because this got long lol

link to the ask meme here

2. Who would your MC trust to protect them most in the beginning?

mostly diavolo tbh? she doesn't fully trust mammon to like... do anything if she's in trouble (at first! obviously this changes lol), but she has a good amount of faith in the idea that diavolo isn't going to let anything happen to her, at least for political reasons lol

she also comes to have a great deal of trust in beel -- i would say that he probably comes riiiight before mammon at the beginning of the exchange program, in no small part due to the lack of outright hostility he shows her compared to the other bros

4. How would your MC react to the brothers almost killing them and/or hurting them?

with regard to everything that goes down in s1... levi's heated gamer moment and beel's kitchen destroying tantrum definitely freak her out while they're happening, but ultimately they move on pretty quickly from that

lucifer's threat post-beel's tantrum is definitely like... superficially scary to them, but also they really dislike lucifer at this point AND doubt he's actually going to do anything out of loyalty to diavolo, so lydia is a lot more composed during that interaction and doesn't think about it much later.

satan's freakout when lydia refuses to make a pact with him is probably the most frightening to her, and confirmation in her mind that she was right to give the literal avatar of wrath a wide berth. also, for all her love of horror, she tends to prefer the psychological to the visceral, so the concreteness and vividness of his threats really throw her for a loop. she also never really has the time to process this in the immediate aftermath because of the bodyswap chaos, but i'd say when they're on the train in england right after that, she's definitely avoiding him until they accidentally bond over solving the murder lol. i can't fully remember what his canon apology is like, but i definitely think they have a much, much longer conversation about it once they start to get really close. honestly after belphegor, this is probably the most traumatizing interaction she has, and is the source of a lot of her hesitance to get romantically involved with him even after she clearly has feelings for him -- he's not exactly presenting himself as bf material in that interaction lmfao. it takes a lot of work for them to move past, is what i'm saying.

lucifer's freakout when they tell him they know about belphegor is similar to his first freakout in that lydia knew he was going to be pissed -- so the reaction was expected -- knew she could still count on diavolo's protection if he really did try to kill her, and figured that now that they were slightly closer than they were the first time around, he probably was going to think twice before actually doing anything. so more of the same kind of heart-pounding staredown happens there before the brothers bust in. ((it's honestly very very funny to me that for as much fear as the rest of the brothers have about lucifer, lydia approaches him with an attitude that very much screams "try me, old man"))

and of course... belphegor. obviously him murdering them is a massive roadblock to them even becoming friends (what a sentence lol), and in the aftermath of that they're really hostile towards him, if they have to interact with him at all. she has the occasional nightmare about it, but ultimately the lasting trauma from that incident isn't so much from the murder itself (lol) but from the fact that he literally is just hanging around the place where she lives after the fact. they don't ever become anything resembling friends until a little bit into s2, and only make their pact at the very end of s1 (where lucifer's pact occurs in canon)

THAT SAID, once they make their pacts with all seven of them and once they start to understand the power to control them that comes with the pacts, she's a lot more comfortable given the knowledge that she can always stop them if things start to get out of hand.

12. What would your MC write their paper on for the exchange program?

i love you for asking this question. lydia is ultimately a self-insert, so the thesis she initially comes to the devildom to work on is the same as my own thesis, and the changes she makes to that thesis are the same as the ones i would make.

initial paper topic, pre-knowledge of immortals: on the role of death in ensuring continuous personal identity and self-definition. essentially explains the ways in which the construction of selfhood is largely dependent on mortal anxiety (per terror management theory; essentially revolves around ideas of legacy and being a part of something bigger than yourself), and explains continuity of personal identity as being ensured by the past, present, and future selves all sharing the same threat under death. particular attention is given to the ways in which religious beliefs surrounding death influence self conception -- which is why she came to the devildom in the first place under the impression that it would essentially be a year long course in comparative studies in christianity LMFAO

the realization that immortal beings do, in fact, exist, they have a bit of a crisis because immortal selfhood poses a pretty direct contradiction of their thesis. i also can't remember when we find out about the reapers in canon, but iirc it's after the exchange program ends, so lydia probably has zero knowledge of the fact that demons and angels do have naturally limited lifespans until she starts the research for the new paper. the discovery that reapers exist comes as a massive relief for this reason LMFAO

so with that in mind, their exit paper topic is pretty similar to her initial one -- just with additional addendums on the nature of immortal death, how it differs from mortal deaths, and the roles that difference poses to self-conception and continuity of identity. it involves a lot of really tense interviews with the brothers/simeon and solomon lol

13. How would your MC wear the RAD uniform?

PROPERLY. it drives me crazy that literally only like half the brothers wear it right. like... i get it because it's a dumb fucking uniform, but still. they wear it with a teal turtleneck beneath instead of a collared shirt and wears the version of it with the slightly longer coat -- theirs has a high-low hemline so it's probably about the same length as levi/asmo's unform jacket in the front, and slightly shorter than lucifer's version of it in the back. (sidenote: looking at the different versions of the uniforms made me realize how wildly different their jacket lengths are?? why is belphegor's jacket so short???) she also has the same slightly longer... shawl?? scarf?? the red drapey bit that satan wears -- although she wears it over both shoulders like a capelette rather than just draping it over the one. she also doesn't wear the belt, but i cant tell if that's actually a required part of the uniform or not because only like 3 people actually wear it lmfao

i really hate the idea that "girl's" RAD uniforms have to have a skirt, and i don't think that that would be the case for canon MC's uniform. but if for whatever reason they did try to get her to wear a skirt she'd probably butt heads with lucifer/diavolo over it until they decided it wasn't worth the effort and just let her wear pants LMFAO. they prefer to sit crosslegged so a skirt is less than ideal. i like to imagine that in this scenario she winds up giving the skirt to asmo, who actually does enjoy wearing it instead of his slacks every once in awhile.

[tuckerfuckingdidit]

Carwash

YES. IT’S TIME. strap the fuck in, you knew this was gonna be a doozie when you sent it. obligatory tag for @capricornfraud.

when I started shipping it if I did: this started as a weird preoccupation with why no one else shipped it, and how it would work. like, wash is shipped with doc, who he held hostage, and donut, who he shot. i figured carwash didn’t work because their power dynamic is imbalaced in a pretty clear-cut direction, but then tuckington happened! so i assumed it was the Memories that made it weird, and carolina not going back for him. but honestly, ships with History that they need to work through are my fucking weakness—i have an entire tuckington au where tucker is a freelancer for this very reason. 

second, relationships aren’t always easy to put in boxes. “wash has memories from carolina’s father, so all of his feelings for her are familial.” uh, no. wash has come a long way from his initial implantation with epsilon—he knows he is not leonard, and he had a relationship with carolina before he got those memories. there’s no way his feelings are that easily defined. there’s admiration and resentment in there, and that’s just on his side, before you start to fill in the blanks with headcanons.

i ship it because it stands to arguably be one of the most complicated relationships between two living characters on the show. there’s so much there, and i think the writers have shied from carolina and wash having certain Conversations because they don’t know how to tackle them—or had no interest in doing so because they felt it was Too Serious.

my thoughts: i started out not really paying them any mind and now I LOVE IT!!!! i’ve yelled at freddie a lot in the past two weeks, but just. there’s so much there. a lot of people write them as giving each other a wide berth because they have a lot of similar scars—some that they gave each other. you have to remember that it’s not just that carolina didn’t go back for wash: from her perspective, wash put a gun to her head over strangers (who she later came to love, but they were strangers at the time!), and even though he had seen epsilon’s memories of what the director had done, wash stayed with the project. of course he had his reasons, but when carolina’s discovering that everyone is in the wind except for south, wyoming, and wash, she doesn’t know what shape his recovery has taken. all she knows is that he’s still with them. 

but i think it’s also important to bear in mind that they’ve moved a great deal past that. i talked in my carolina post about how i see her as moving full circle, not reinventing herself. i think the reason there aren’t more carwash shippers is because we aren’t given much of a foundation for them during the project for them to circle back to. we see it happen when they’re fighting, but nowhere else. and with carolina having called the freelancers family, i highly doubt carolina and wash only interacted in drop ships and battlefields. 

there’s a lot of empty space to be filled regarding the freelancers, but simply put, i think carolina was tactile, and wash was affection-starved. wash isn’t given a face because we’ve already known him for three seasons when the flashbacks start, so his helmet never comes off, and we miss out on one of the biggest headcanons i have—the team ruffled this kid’s hair constantly. before leonard realized everyone had gotten too chummy and the board was put into place (because what hurts more: people who were always fiercely competitive and shitting on each other abandoning each other, or a family with genuine camaraderie turning into strangers?), you could catch these two half on top of each other in the rec room every once in a while (which conveniently could be a great reason wash seems to rub york the wrong way). like, if you listen to the tone of voice that carolina teases wash in, she obviously thinks wash is adorable. i refuse to believe she wouldn’t have gotten a kick out of flirting with him just to fluster him.

this portion is getting way too long oh my god. basically, the carwash you get on chorus (and going forward), depends largely on your pfl era interpretation of them. that’s the ground work. just because the writers didn’t take the time to develop their relationship doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. do i think they go through the motions of Falling In Love? no. but i do see them as reluctant to ever let go of each other again. like, ever. especially if there’s really no epsilon anymore. they’re each other’s only relic from the project, and that history puts them in a prime position to be the other’s Person—if the work was put in. if you just write them as never talking, then there’s nothing of note to them, and red is a sad panda. but where’s the fun in that?

What makes me happy about them: her fierce determination to never lose him. her starting to reach out for him physically again on chorus, and wash surprising even himself, because holy shit, he’s not flinching. carolina’s quiet mix of amusement and happiness at the (re)discovery that wash still turns into a goddamn cat if you can get him to relax. her foot hooked under his ankle in the mess hall while she talks to the reds. wash deciding he is Done with his food early so he can jam his helmet on his head, because he can’t stop fucking smiling. 

and in restoration AUs where the reds and blues stay on chorus, once the fighting is over? oh my god. have Some Things:

the first time carolina gets her fingers in his hair and he nearly falls asleep on her

her utter dismay when he proceeds to go back to his room and not sleep at all. 

the fact that she would totally take scheduling a Communal nap super seriously if he started to look really exhausted. 

him showing up at her room at 3 in the morning the night he finally cracks and admits to himself that he sleeps best next to her.

the super chill, seemingly impenetrable bubble forming around them that follows. absolutely no one else understands it. they barely understand it. “are they fucking? wait, what if they aren’t? are they gonna get even more obnoxious when they do?” 

^ tucker, probably. it’s ok tucker, just come squeeze in if you don’t have kai.

and when epsilon is gone, carolina has someone who won’t allow her to wall herself off from everyone else, even if it means they just sit together and don’t talk about it. sometimes they do, but most of the time, they don’t. wash just doesn’t want her to be alone. he knows what that feels like, and he doesn’t want that for her. 

just. the sheer amount of forgiveness and trust that is required for them to even function together will never not Get Me. i love happy, healthy stories, and the idea of the two of them healing together will always be something i am here for.

but they’re also not perfect. she’s still going to be protective, and try to take on too much on her own to lower his level of risk. he’s still a fucking spaz. they’re going to get on each other’s nerves. there will still be days neither of them knows how to say the right thing, and days they both keep saying the wrong things. it wouldn’t be Them if it wasn’t awkward. but that just makes when it works so much better.

What makes me sad about them: there are bad days. days when it’s hard to look at each other. when their silences aren’t so companionable—both of them locked in their heads, mulling over past mistakes, could-haves and should-have-beens. 

the days wash can’t quite meet her eye, no matter how much carolina wants him to. 

the days she doesn’t want him to.

also?? if they get closer when epsilon is still around/alive/himself, LOL. awkward.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: there is no carwash fic to come to my attention so far, which is an annoyance in and of itself. *puts on captain hat*

things I look for in fanfic: FOR IT TO EXIST, CACKLING. but i like it when writers understand carolina’s opinion is one wash trusts, and vice versa.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: yorkalina, kimbalina, tuckington, suckington, and mainewash are all Good Shit. oh, also mainealina. how did i forget mainealina?

My happily ever after for them: if the reds and blues are all getting houses in the same cul-de-sac, carwash doesn’t just live under the same roof, their rooms are right next to each other. tucker, junior, kai and caboose can live next door. they’re loud. wash may be used to the blues, and carolina had church in her head at all times, but at the end of the day they still need a place to retreat when wash flinches at every loud noise and carolina can’t stop grinding her teeth. 

it’s really important to me that they have somewhere they can go be Quiet together ok, no matter where/when they are. i do love the idea that they never really slow down though. carolina’s not really the settling type, and i’ve always read wash with an inherent need to be Useful since serving as recovery one.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: carolina is the official big spoon. she is not the smol, fight me on this. first of all i literally cannot reblog art where she’s shorter than him—thank u rt, for giving us absolutely no tall women in the pfl arc Because Reasons. but snuggly naptime carwash and post-coital are two completely different animals. at first they can’t even both stick around after sex, and then when they start to, they plant themselves right on each respective edge and Do Not Move. 

you can tell the second they relax though, because they slide closer to the clothed, snuggly arrangement, which is less spooning and more wash on top of her with his head on her chest and her hand in his hair.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: the exact above arrangement with clothes on. lmfao. NAPS, BRAH. but also don’t underestimate the value in them just Sitting Quietly and being present together, because i neeeed it. i crave it ok. it keeps me up at night.

[teddygirllifts]

😂😭😡 So here's what happened tonight lmfao. I'm sorry but what is wrong with people the camera isn't exactly teeny tiny or bloody camouflage! If you break it because you can to look where you're going then I hope you got a load of spare cash because you will bloody well owe me 😤🤣 anyway I think I scared the guy half to death so I reckon he'll give me and all my stuff a wide berth from now on! Will be posting the full booty growth workout in a couple days time to the toobz so watch this space people! #whatismylife #iswearimnotatotalbitch #justdontkickmycamera #ffs