#i enjoy going batshit on the tags

[dimiclaudeblaigan]

A post in honor of General Jarod Fire Emblem my precious.

[sylustful]

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° Even the Devil Can Worship on Sunday.

“just because you’re stronger doesn’t mean you stand above the weak.”

mornings with Sylus was something you never dreamed of, but now he’s here, vulnerable and soft. lying next to you in a bed that you both made love in many times. it’s almost like a dream…

➳ TAGS: 16+ (suggestive because Sylus is a pervert), fluff, slight angst, lazy Sundays, heavy talks on emotions and how to feel them, reader has a small panic attack.

➳ MIKI’S NOTES: it’s Sunday here in Japan, so i wanted to post this. sorry if it’s Saturday where you are. i think it’s funny that my first post here was hardcore smut and here i am, writing about domestic times with Sylus. i guess it’s because i want to explore softer moments with him. i imagined him as someone who has suppressed his emotions for the sake of his work, which made him emotionally constipated and not understand his feelings for mc/reader. anyway, hope you enjoy! if you like my work, please follow or dm me for Sylus fic ideas!

WORD COUNT: 2660

love is tender. love is kind. love is… it’s something. it’s a feeling, but it’s also a person, but it can be an animal. love is something that cannot be changed or undone; it’s an immovable force that barrels through people’s lives and into their hearts. love is something you cannot control, but God… does it hurt. love is painful. love is ruining. love is a stab wound to the heart while also being a gunshot to the brain. how can someone be so handsome yet so stupid at the same time? you constantly argue with yourself on whether or not you want to kiss him or punch him, but at the end of the day… it’s him you come home to - even if technically, you’re not even supposed to be in contact with this guy. love with him is dangerous and all-consuming, love with him is fluffy and dazzling, love with him is… different. it’s an exciting and nauseating different. Sylus is wild and crazy and batshit insane, but he’s also romantic and comforting and honest. Sylus will tell you that you look like a bitch in that dress, but he’ll also tell you that you look way hotter in red. you laugh with him, you argue with him, you live life with him in ways that you never thought were possible.

but God… does he give you the world. just by lying here in this bed with you, he gives you all you want and more. the tousled strands of snow that you can easily comb your fingers though; to his tight, pale skin and large nose. you giggle as you boop it and continue tracing around his face with your fingertips. his almond-shaped eyes that sparkle ruby red and give his enemies a sense of dread. Sylus keeps his hair. keeping his facial hair meticulously shaved and pruned, but sometimes you wonder what he would look like with a beard or mustache, chuckling at the thought. the closest you got to anything was tiny peach fuzz on his jaw that he was super embarrassed about, smacking your hand away and rubbing the rough skin. even with his armpits and chest hair and legs, he’s not okay with having, thinking it feels weird on his clothes and is not attractive during sex. you don’t mind, actually liking easier access to feel his warm skin under your palms and the thumping of his heart. your breath catches in your throat when your fingers brush lightly over his lips, outlining the heart-shaped curve of his upper lip and flatline of his bottom.

but he’s dangerous. he’s the crime boss of Onychinus. you know that this sweet dream won’t last, that you won’t be able to wake up in bed like this next to him. you won’t be able to smell the scent of cigarettes and wine anymore. or feel the weight he has in your bed or his. you’ll just go back to your normal, everyday, hunter life. normal missions fighting wanderers and saving people. a part of you feels terrible for even thinking about not wanting to go back to that life. like something must be wrong with your for wanting to stay living dangerously with the most feared man in Linkon. you don’t even know his end goal or what he wants with you, never answering your questions on payment. he must be playing with you, you think - toying with your emotions and stringing you along only to toss you aside and betray you. your heart squeezes at the thought and fears plague your mind. does he even like you? does he even lov- no. don’t say that word. you shake your head, not even giving him the opportunity to plant that thought in your head. this is a transactional thing. yeah! just… just a give and take… of sorts.

but God… does he give you the world. just by lying here in this bed with you, he gives you all you want and more. the tousled strands of snow that you can easily comb your fingers though; to his tight, pale skin and large nose. you giggle as you boop it and continue tracing around his face with your fingertips. his almond-shaped eyes that sparkle ruby red and give his enemies a sense of dread. Sylus keeps his hair. keeping his facial hair meticulously shaved and pruned, but sometimes you wonder what he would look like with a beard or mustache, chuckling at the thought. the closest you got to anything was tiny peach fuzz on his jaw that he was super embarrassed about, smacking your hand away and rubbing the rough skin. even with his armpits and chest hair and legs, he’s not okay with having, thinking it feels weird on his clothes and is not attractive during sex. you don’t mind, actually liking easier access to feel his warm skin under your palms and the thumping of his heart. your breath catches in your throat when your fingers brush lightly over his lips, outlining the heart-shaped curve of his upper lip and flatline of his bottom.

these lips have been on every square inch of your body. the lips have spoken words that erupt butterflies in your stomach. the lips have made you cross the peak of pleasure so many times, your mind fizzles into a puddle. but these lips seal secrets, barricading valuable information behind the vault of his mind and security of his heart. ‘vulnerability is for the weak’ he tells you, and you know it is. vulnerability brings comfort, comfort brings openness, openness brings betrayal - because humans are selfish. sometimes you just want to bash his skull in just to see inside his brain and watch the wheels turn, observe the step by step process of each and every decision he makes. because when you look at Sylus, it’s like facing an unbelievably high brick wall, most of the time. that there’s something in between you that blocks you from seeing anything beneath the surface that is his cold gaze and infuriating nicknames. you want to see him. you want to listen to him. you want to feel him. but you know it won’t ever happen.

“you never stop thinking, do you, Kitten?”

his raspy and deep morning voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you stare at him with bewilderment. that carmine gaze staring daggers into your skin and piercing your heart underneath, leaving you bleeding and open. Sylus always had a way of seeing through you, knowing every move you make as if he were omniscient or something. he reaches out, brushing a strand of hair out of your face before twirling it between his fingers, his gaze following his action.

“i was thinking about how ugly you look when you sleep,” you retort, but your words don’t hold the same bite as they used to.

Sylus chuckles, pulling the strand of hair to his lips and kissing them softly. “what’s with the hostility this early in the morning?” he asks, yanking your hair and you wince.

this is one of those times where you don’t like Sylus, thank God.

you smack his hand away and take your hair back, flattening it with your hand and glaring at him. “you’re very easy to be hostile towards.”

“i’m also someone who’s very easy to feel aroused by,” he replies confidently, his hand moving to your ass and pulling you closer. “or was last night one of many mistakes you admit.”

as much as you like to say that every night you spend with Sylus is a mistake, your leg hooking over his and your hand on his chest says otherwise. “you always drag me to wherever whenever you’re horny, not me.”

“and yet, you never tell me no and actually mean it,” he argued, his fingers lazily going up and down your back, causing you to shiver.

you want to tell him no, that it isn’t true. you want to push Sylus away and go back to your normal life. just like how much you want to get out of this bed and his embrace. but this man has ruined you in more ways than one. he’s the devil who tempted you with the most dangerous fruit of all. but… you suppose even the Devil can worship on Sundays.

“you already know that if you were anyone else, this wouldn’t be happening,” you tell him, gesturing between the two of you with your finger.

Sylus takes your hand, taking a quick glance between you and your hand before biting the side of it. “i’m very honored to be awarded this special title then,” he thanks you sarcastically, rubbing the bite mark with his thumb.

you try to pull your hand away from his grip but he just pulls you closer to him, your bare core pressing against his thigh, your eyes blown wide. “Sy- wait- let me put my clothes-“

“it wouldn’t make sense to put them on just for me to take them off again,” he says with a groan, nuzzling his face into your neck. “just cuddle with me for a little bit, Princess.”

he says its cuddling, but you can feel his hands on your hips rocking you back and forth on his thigh, and you bite your lip to suppress a moan. Sylus never was interested in sex or intimacy at all when you first met him, despite all of his crude jokes and half-ass attempts at flirting with you. but now that you’ve gotten more used to each other, he’s like some insatiable rabbit that pounces on you every chance he gets. under all that hard and rough exterior, is an incubus coming for your body and soul. in the mornings, it’s either him eating you out until your sheets soak and missionary; afternoons, it’s spent bent over the counter or island when making lunch; and so on. and don’t even get started on this man at night; people would be sent into a coma with how much stamina this man has.

“Sylus, i have to attend a meeting later today,” you try to tell him, repeating yourself from last night before he ravaged you. you put your hands on his triceps. “you know this.”

“and i’ll drop you off when the time comes,” he argued back at you, looking back up to you with a scowl. “what the fuck is up with you? you usually don’t care when we do this.”

you bite your lip, looking down at his chest. he was right. you didn’t care when he would pleasure you like this; in fact, you craved it, expected it from him almost. you loved it when his hands graced your skin and molded it beneath his palms and worshiped you to the heavens above. you just wondered, if at any point, it could grow into something more than just a give and take. that maybe you could just live at Sylus’s mansion rather than sneaking off to it like some criminal. you knew the N109-Zone was dangerous, that every trip was a gamble no matter how many times Sylus told you it was safe. fuck, would you even live in the N109-Zone? do you even want to be a hunter anymore? this was your dream! why can’t you just be normal?!

“hey! hey!” Sylus calls out to you, holding your face, forcing you to look at him. “it’s okay. you’re okay.”

you stare at him, feeling the wetness of tears on your cheeks and soaking the pillow. the two of you look at each other for what seemed like an eternity, the only sound being the fan circling on the ceiling and slight ruffles of the sheets. not even your breaths could be heard, yet they spun in tendrils and connected in the sky, dissipating into the air. you couldn’t deny it anymore, you realized - you were in love with Sylus. irrevocably, impossibly, and mindlessly in love with the worst criminal imaginable. and you think Sylus knows it too, with the way his hands hold your face as if you were a delicate cherry blossom that just bloomed during spring. he rubs your cheeks with his thumbs, reaching up to wipe your tears away and leaning into you, resting your foreheads together. the silence between you two is a heavy one, one filled with a new-found tension; a line now drawn in the sand that both of you have to decide on whether or not it should be crossed. Sylus’s breath shudders when he looks at you, his eyes searching through your gaze for any indication on your thoughts and you realize that he doesn’t actually know that much about you as much as you don’t know about him, just picking up on patterns in your behavior. you open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out, just more tears falling down your cheeks.

“i love you…” you barely manage to whisper, keeping your gaze steady when you look at Sylus. “but i don’t want to love you.”

his expression hardens at your words and he stays silent for a while, looking down. you begin to regret confessing and open your mouth to backtrack and lie to him, but he shakes his head, and you still.

“i know,” he says, his voice still a little raspy as he licks his lips, clearing his throat. “i know that… that what this is- is…”

is what? you think. what is this? you want to ask him, but you stay quiet, letting him find his words. he lets go of your face, turning to lie on his back and you move away from him, giving him space to breathe and think. you stare at him with expectancy, curious at this new side of Sylus you’ve never seen before.

he lets out an annoyed huff, tousling his already messy hair. “i don’t know how to feel about you,” he admits slowly, his hand flopping to his side of the bed. “i don’t know how to feel about this or us or why i’m even doing anything with you.”

“i just… want to spend time with you, and it feels good seeing you when i wake up and it feels good having sex with you, and it feels good when you drag me out to do random things with you,” he finished, turning to you, his cheeks and ears tinted pink with embarrassment. “and it feels good when you tell me you are… honest with your feelings.”

you feel like crying at this point. not really sure from sadness or happiness, but most likely both. he doesn’t know if he loves you, but he loves everything about you. isn’t this love? wanting to be with your special person all the time, intimate or otherwise? to find them annoying but still go along with whatever they desire because it’s their feelings you care about the most? you snort, a full-hearted belly laugh spilling out of you as you sit up, trying to contain your laughter. Sylus sits up with you, glaring at your chest rising and falling with happiness and looking away.

“this is why i didn’t want to say anything,” he mutters gruffly, throwing a soft punch at your shoulder. “weakness is the worst thing in the world.”

you immediately shut up and turn back to him, holding his cheek to turn him back to you. “it’s not!” you tell him, voice full of determination. “weakness is the best thing because of the strength we gain from others.”

he stares at you, dumbfounded by your words and furrows his eyebrows, clearly not understanding what you’re saying. you giggle again, leaning in and kissing his lips softly, pulling away to smile at him.

“i mean that you are stronger when you know that being vulnerable isn’t inherently bad,” you explain, lying you both back down on the bed as you stroke Sylus’s cheek with your fingers. “of course, being physically weak is bad, but it’s okay to be honest and open with how you feel, it doesn’t make you weak.”

Sylus takes a few moments to think about your words, his gaze searching and lost. he always knew that vulnerability isn’t bad, that bottling up your emotions and pent up energy isn’t good for you. he knows this. but… does he? Sylus doesn’t even remember the last time he spoke about his emotions like this, always finding a release in a shooting range or boxing. whenever he would get pissed off, he would just deal with the problem directly, or deal with it by himself. when he was with you, he could feel layers upon layers of himself falling apart at your delicate touch and warming words. ‘it’s okay,’ he feels as though you’ve whispered to him countless times. ‘you can feel however you want to feel and it’s okay to feel it.’

Sylus could only laugh too, now understanding why you laughed earlier, pulling you into a hug and sighing. “i… feel the same way as you, little dove.”

you smile, hugging him back and nuzzling into his chest. it’s okay if he doesn’t want to say the word yet, just as long as he knows. “okay…”

[someoneintheshadow456]

Idk what tag to use to describe the phenomenon of "Tiktok/Instagram Reels being full of toxic femininity/Gender Roles 2 but I just want to make a thread of examples of batshit takes I have seen from Instagram Reels (I don't have examples for all of them):

"I hate playing with my kids because I think they're 'emotionally abusive'/'gaslighting' when they change the rules every 30 seconds and rough house with me. Also, only fathers can enjoy playing with kids because they don't parent like mothers do (being a mom is soooooo harddddd). I refuse to teach my kids how to play nice and go shocked Pikachu when they don't."

"If you're over 25 you will never find a partner ever and should just get an arranged marriage" (said by someone IN THEIR LATE 20S)

"Sleep studies are all based on mens' needs women actually need 10 hours of sleep because uterus"

Just a whole lot of "Girls are mature well-behaved angels until they hit their double digits, then they become satanic demons from hell. Meanwhile boys are satanic demons from hell BEFORE puberty instead."

"Children produce more oxytocin around their dads because dads are the fun parents and they will never appreciate the hard work their mothers do"

"Bullying is good actually because something something evolutionary psychology. I am very smart, I was a gifted kid in high school"

"Men are useless overgrown children who can't keep house or be trusted around babies. But if a man can keep house and/or is good with children, he's either 'not a real man', a pedo, or gay."

"Some women??? Beat their kids??? To cope??? Kids should understand when mommy brings out the chapathi roller it's because they're just ungrateful brats! Being a mother is sooooo harddddd"

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 9 (Stripping)

Soldier Boy x Reader (NSFW)

(945 Words)

Summary: you tell Soldier Boy about your mission before hopping in the shower

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, little bit of blood, typical canon violence (it’s the boys duh), alcohol consumption, making out, striptease, heavily implied shower sex at the end

Notes: this was a fun change in pace after yesterday’s prompt LMAO anyway I love soldier boy, enjoy the fic!!!

-

The door behind you closes with a slam as you catch your breath. You quickly walk over to the mirror in the corner, you take in your bloodied appearance, trying to process the completely batshit insanity that was your last mission. You feel yourself take shakily taking in deep breaths, still running high on adrenaline.

“Hey there.”

You whip your head around to see Ben, sitting on the couch, nursing a small bottle of bourbon. He looks at you, amused. Seeing you caked in blood and sweat seemed like this seemed just like a normal Tuesday for Ben, considering all his experiences way back in the day during his glory days as the legendary Soldier Boy, where he would be in the same position as you.

“Hi,” you reply, staring at him for a moment.

“What happened to you? You look like shit,” he grins.

“You-” you make your way over to him, slumping down on the couch beside him, not giving a shit about the dried up blood occupying your clothes. “…Have no idea.” you sigh. With a subtle nod, he passes you the bottle, where you swiftly gulp down a couple sips, feeling that delicious burn run down your throat. “Where’s?-”

“Butcher and the cum guzzler?” You nod at him witch a chuckle. “They’re out, doing god only knows what, which gives us…” he wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in. “…The perfect opportunity to release some of that pent up adrenaline.” You meet his gaze, brilliantly hazel with flecks of green staring at you wolfishly.

“You know what?” You take his hand in yours, pulling him up, “I think I’d like that”

“There we go,” he chuckles. Once he gets up to his feet, Ben can’t keep his hands off you. His large hands are on your waist, gripping the small of your back.

You lean in to kiss him, and he tilts his head to yours, giving you access. The sensation of his tongue in your mouth sends shivers down your spine, letting out a soft groan. Ben lets out a perverted snicker, as his hands make their way to your ass, groping you firmly, keeping flush against his chest.

Your feverish make out session leads you two to the bathroom, messily slamming the door as you find yourself positioned sitting on the closed toilet.

“Easy there, Soldier Boy,” you chide, annunciating his hero name with a sensual drawl, biting his lip gently as you pull away from his kiss, maneuvering yourself on top of him. “As much as I’d love for you to completely wreck me,” you continue, getting up from straddling him, “I feel fucking disgusting.”

“That’s alright babe,” Ben says eagerly, “I don’t mind a little mess.” He winks.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” you voice flirtatiously, “I was hoping you could watch me take off these messy clothes,” you lean back toward the sink, “…And maybe join me in the shower?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Ben lets out a low, gravelly chuckle. You sense the heat in his voice and hearing it sends arousal shooting to your sex, which begins to ache in anticipation. “You make a very tempting offer, I’m in.”

You shoot him a sly look as you begin to undress yourself slowly. “You wanna know how I got all bloody?” You glance over to Ben, who lets out a noise of approval. “I was hunting a supe, nothing special, one of the D-listers.” The first item to go is your jacket, which you unzip slowly, giving Ben access to look at your chest, which prominent through the fabric of your shirt.

“He was on the run after getting himself in hot water with Vought.” The jacket hits the floor as you continue to speak. “Unfortunately for him, he ran into me before Vought could get to him.” Next, off come your pants. You turn around, giving Ben a decent view of your ass before teasing him with just enough, and turning back around. “He had some info I needed, and was too stupid to give it to me, so I figured it would be better to put him out of his misery before Vought got their claws in him and probably would’ve done something worse.”

You find yourself on top of Ben once again, pulling off your shirt, exposing your upper half to him. You can feel his length, hard and eager through his grey sweatpants. Coquettishly, you decide to have a little fun, grinding on him ever so slightly. A guttural moan erupts from Ben’s throat, you can’t tell if the wet patch is coming from you or Ben as you feel the arousal rip through you. Left in nothing but your underwear, you reach the peak of your story.

“He put up a fight- more of one than I thought, but it wasn’t so bad once I crushed his skull with my bare hands.” You get off him abruptly, not wanting to finish this before it even gets started. You flip open the shower curtain and turn on the faucet, hearing the shower pour down.

Slipping off your final piece of clothing, you are completely nude as you motion for Ben to take off his own clothes and meet you in the shower.

“Jesus,” he stares at you in awe, getting up and frantically removing his own clothes, haphazardly tossing his Giants jersey to the side and ripping off his sweatpants. “My god, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he grunts, before sliding his arm around you and pulling you into the shower with him.

You giggle before pulling him into a sloppy kiss, sliding the shower curtain closed behind you.

[stealingyourbones]

Question! I have been getting into DC comics cuz of dpxdc, and I saw your tags on frank Miller on a recent post. One of my irl friends told me to read the dark knight returns and while it was occasionally hard to follow I assumed that was a result of when it was written rather than who wrote it? But I did overall enjoy it.

I guess what I'm asking is why you say frank Miller is a bad writer when it seems like the dark knight returns was so acclaimed?

(I saw the nazi thing too but that's something I can google so while it's news to me it's not my main question)

ok so. A lot of this is my personal opinion and I'm not too equipped to say shit about this because I'm not very political but I'm going to give it my best shot. Put under a cut so folks who don't want to hear about comic ranting can simply scroll past

I’m just gonna write a quick thing for the Nazi stuff, He isn't exactly a Nazi but boy oh boY does he set off many warning flags. Frank Miller is also the writer of the comic 300, if that sounds familiar that's because the movie you're probably thinking of is indeed based off these comics. The Spartan's ideology helped create the baselines of Fascism. Fascism is a pretty leading cause of commentary in Frank Millers work. In Batman: The Dark Knight he is a fascist. In Hard Boiled there's swastikas in the background every so often. (I even went back to reread it just to make sure and yep. they definitely were there) In 300 there's a shitton of Fascism... I could go on but still. His comics are incredibly gorey, have a discussion about a world gone wrong that can only be changed using force and weaponry (the whole Dark Knight "I am a surgeon" monologue for example), and the fact that he has Fascism as the main point of nearly all of the comics he's written... it doesn't sit right with me and it's a consistent pattern.

Now, onto the bad writing. I must firstly preface that these are my own opinions and that I didn't grow up reading Frank Miller's work. I think he was a good writer but isn't one anymore. His writing did incredible things for DC and you can see his influence in Batman even today. Works I've read and enjoyed of his are: Daredevil, Batman Year One, and Dark Knight. Nowadays you'll see many folks like myself talk about how Frank Miller has fallen off the deep end. A vast majority of Frank Miller's comics have reoccurring themes: politics, fascism, extreme violence, and so so much weaponry. Politics is in every comic book. There is no unpolitical comic, there ARE comics that are batshit wild with their politics and that's what I'm talking about. I'll get back to this later. He wrote many good comics, ones that first come to mind are Daredevil , Wolverine, Batman: Dark Knight, Batman: Year One, Sin City, Ronin, and 300. All of these comics are still credited by folks as amazing comics and hell, I recommend folks to read them go and check them out. Then 9/11 happened. That along with rampant alcoholism. Those reoccurring themes I mentioned? They become exponentially more blatant in his works. Especially on the political angle. You can see the difference between his works from pre and post 9/11. If you read Dark Knight and Dark Knight 2 back to back. It's night and day. He even made a comic during the post 9/11 panic called Holy Terror. The comic's title was originally pitched as Holy Terror, Batman! with the Gotham hero himself as the main character but it swiftly denied by DC, denied being published by DC, and changed to what it is now. The basic plot of this comic: A Vigilante named The Fixer fights Al-Qaeda after attacking Empire City. He doesn't even mention the word Al-Qaeda until 80 pages into a 150 page comic. The comic is some INCREDIBLY blatant post 9/11 propaganda that's ridiculously Islamophobic and anti-muslim. That isn't even my opinion, Frank Miller has said that's what this comic was. It is scattered with a ridiculous amount of hate speech written by a hate fueled man in 2007. Now onto comics that you'd more likely read. All Star Batman and Robin (2005). Oh boy. Let's compare shall we? Batman Dark Knight Returns (1986)

All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #1 (2005)

mind you this is as Dick is being driven to GCPD for questioning RIGHT AFTER HIS PARENTS DIED. He gets kidnapped by Bruce out of the police car. Not calmed in his arms after the murder and brought to the manor. Kidnapped. All Star Batman & Robin, The Boy Wonder #2 (2005)

( a brief intermission of this sickass pose of a shirtless Alfred Pennyworth comforting Vicky Vale)

now back to the kidnapping:

[Skipping Bruce getting chased by the GCPD, Jumping the Batmobile ONTOP of a GCPD car, and laughing and talking to his car all the while Dick is absolutely terrified. They then use boosters that propel the Batmobile into the sky.]

Smashcut to #4 where they actually enter the Batcave.

I don't even think I need to explain myself. This is Spider-Man: One More Day levels of mischaracterization. Like seriously. Bruce kidnapping Dick after his parents were killed? Calling him a retard and hitting him during the aftermath (we can go on about how in 2005, the r slur was used commonly but this was just out of pocket), Leaving him in the cold batcave and told to eat rats? Frank Miller used to write some incredible works. Nowadays his writing is as decent as Rob Liefeld's art.

[albondiguilla007]

Tomarry recs Part II

(go here for part l)

So, these fanfics are not all time travel, but they still are Tomarry, meaning Tom Riddle x Harry. If you’re interested in the time travel trope go ahead and check those out, they’re all amazing and really well written. Some of these have a different dynamic, but they’re still pretty good. Enjoy!

- [ ] A Dangerous Game: Incomplete, 283k. The whole Chamber’s mess happens in Harry’s fith year (I think) and Diary’s Horrocrux realizes Harry is one too, so he kidnaps him. Hilarious, smutty and vulnerable Tom, really good. https://archiveofourown.org/works/13059681/chapters/29871909

- [ ] What He Grows to Be: Incomplete, 266k. So, Harry goes back in time to change the future and adopt Tom to hopefully influence positively on him. He does, kind of? Tom’s still a manipulative homicidal asshole, but he is obsessed with Harry so he is willing to make concessions. The whole adoptive father/son is not everyone’s cup of tea, but nothing happens while Tom’s a minor. (From what I remember sorry 😭) https://archiveofourown.org/works/19042240/chapters/45228508

- [ ] Death and the Devil Child: Incomplete, 93k. Sassy, powerful Harry and whipped Tom. The dynamic between them? The sexual tension? The way Harry completely wipes Tom’s ass from day one? He travels back in time as Master of Death with Death at his side cosplaying as a teenage girl. Really good, give it a try. https://archiveofourown.org/works/51578491/chapters/138645514?selected_id=130367584&commit=Go

- [ ] if we were lovers: Complete, 266k. Muggle au, dark academy, inspired on If We Were Villains. So completely different from anything I’ve read before, an amazing spin on the trope. https://archiveofourown.org/works/51875998

- [ ] Everything We Dream Can Be Real: Muggle au, dead dove, do not eat. Complete, 51k. Harry wakes up in a world with no magic where he doesn’t know his friends and goes batshit crazy. Serial killer Harry and detective Tom. (They’re both crazy honestly). Be aware of the tags. https://archiveofourown.org/works/33828601/chapters/84101440

- [ ] And the Living will Envy the Death: Incomplete, 80k. From the writer of What He Grow to Be. Time travel to Hogwarts 1942, they are both the same age. We need the author to update 🙏🏻 https://archiveofourown.org/works/43500502/chapters/109361971?view_adult=true

[epickiya722]

Seeing a post about how shippers will ship characters who don't have romantic feelings for each other and/or say they hate each other and then someone reblogging that and putting BkDks made me chuckle because...

I don't know about y'all, but I wouldn't act the way they do towards each other if I hated someone genuinely.

Yeah, you can tell someone you hate them. But sometimes those words can have different meanings behind it. Like...

A joke like "oh my gosh, I hate you" and you laugh it off together.

Or you seriously mean it and that person you want out of your life for good.

Then there's the "I hate you" that you say in the heat of a moment or at felt that emotion at some point, but in the end you and the other person are having miscommunication issues or confused about what you're really feelings and don't know what they are yet.

In Midoriya and Bakugou's case, they don't hate it other. Not like "I hate you, I want you gone forever". They definitely had some miscommunication and are confused about their feelings.

No, not saying it's definitely romantic feelings they have for each other, but we know they feel something towards each other that isn't hate. Why?

Look how they interact with each other!

If I hated someone with each being of my body, I wouldn't keep a card of our favorite hero for years in my pocket everywhere I go. If I hated someone, I wouldn't get batshit angry when they get kidnapped. If I hated someone, I wouldn't jump in front of them to save them from a potential killing blow and then later get upset when they're in a coma. If I hated someone, I damn sure wouldn't be calling them some cutesy nickname. And if I hated someone, I wouldn't allow them to call me some cutesy nickname.

There are so many examples as to why those two DO NOT hate each other.

On that note, if they did... why even be an ass towards people who ship them and care about it, huh?

"Well, I don't care!"

Constantly "calling out" BkDk shippers on ship posts like that and putting anti posts in the main tag tells me otherwise. Wasting your time nagging at BkDks who are just enjoying their ship like every-fucking-body else and minding their business doesn't speak to me as "I don't care".

You do care. You care to change their minds as if you have some authority over who can ship what. You care because you don't want to see somebody enjoy themselves and you want an easy target to bully.

I get it if you don't like shipping two characters who do hate each other or have no romantic interest in each other. I can see why you wouldn't. Not holding that against anybody. Everyone has a preference as to who they're shipping. But...

For fucks sake, if someone is shipping two characters who hate each other and have no romantic feelings towards each other, turn away then! Ignore them! Don't "call out" those shippers on other ship posts to be an ass. Don't waste your energy being upset about it because you'll be a lot happier when you don't pay attention to it. You can still have your opinion, that's fine! But it's not cool to be so negative all the time about it towards others.

What's next? People shouldn't ship two characters who have little to no interaction in canon?!

[a-very-sparkly-nerd]

the tag of yours about Ezran bringing up how the sandwiches were amidst the destruction and Callum dying as a reaction?? im only writing this because i choked so hard reading that i did a fully body shudder. it took me way longer to recover from this than it should have because this was UNHINGED. I'm actually dying its so funny and out of pocket like you are a perfect human being you make me react like this way too often

and oh my god if ezran ever brings this up to callum so nonchalantly he would react the way i just did but worse a full choking spluttering batshit disaster 😂

ngl my FIRST, IMMEDIATE REACTION upon seeing this was to giggle and go, "oh yeah. i did that."

But seriously though, thank you so much!! I just make myself suffer and crack up, and that's just what I do here-- throw in some humor so I don't go totally ballistic and lose my mind. Glad to see that other people enjoy it, too! <3

[incorrect-koh-posts]

You said "which is a tragedy in its own right as far as my tastes are concerned, but I digress", but I'm curious to hear your thoughts on this. I hope it's okay to ask, but what kind of fics/pairings would you like/prefer to see emerge from the fandom?

Of course it's okay to ask, dear anon!

Personally? I'd love to see more variety. One of the chief reasons why I enjoy reading fan fiction is finding new things I like - perhaps some pairing I hadn't considered before, some batshit premise or crossover that turns out to be actually brilliant, or maybe a cool genfic that explores previously unseen sides of a character or character dynamic that people don't write about very often. I'm not really the kind of person who seeks out fic based on specific tropes. Once I've read a story with a certain trope in a fandom, it's pretty unlikely that I'll go and read another one with a very similar premise, unless I really enjoy the author's writing.

So what I'd be excited about seeing in the AO3 tag would honestly just be: something new. For instance, a sapphic Sibylla/OC fic would be such a fascinating read (as would be anything at all that explores Sibylla's character a bit more). Or a Saladin-centric fic - sign me the hell up. I'd adore finding something for Godfrey or Imad, and we all know a new Tiberias fic would have me foaming at the mouth. I'd also love an interesting and/or wacky AU (and I'd write one myself if I had the time). Make it Jane Austen and let Baldwin have a gentleman suitor, while Sibylla elopes Lydia-Bennett style with Guy, and Godfrey and Raymond grump about in the Navy. Write a daemon AU (as in His Dark Materials) in the canonical universe. Or throw them all into the 21st century and let Reynald send Saladin threatening messages via fax.

I know the KoH fandom is much too small to engender the sort of variety I'd ideally like to see, and it's only reasonable for writers to sort of double down upon the fic premises and tropes that have done well in terms of hits and comments in the past and write more of the stuff the majority enjoys. As far as taste goes, I'm aware I'm the complete outlier here, and I really don't mean to antagonise anybody with this post or insult their writing or reading preferences. I'm glad your fics are doing well, folks, I truly am - it's only that I'm very likely not the target audience for them. Sometimes I just wish I weren't the only freak in the circus, lol.

(The post anon is referring to is this one btw.)

[breitzbachbea]

this is so so optional but 🐖 for a character of your choice

Spitroasting Dolcetto! WAIT-

Ask Game for someone’s OCs

✨- How did you come up with the OC’s name?

Okay, this is going to be batshit, strap in. So anyone remember Fullmetal Alchemist? Anyone remember Greed's Posse of Chimeras? Remember how one of them was named Dolcetto? Yeah.

I was so obsessed with Greed and Dolcetto (another story, another OC entirely) that the name stuck with me. Once I had moved on from FMA and gotten into Hetalia, for some reason that name had stuck with me. Somewhere I had found out that it means "little sweet one" and thought 'Wouldn't that be a funny name for an angry, short character?'. I hadn't bothered to check at this stage whether any of the names I had salvaged from somewhere else were actually names. Sorry Dolco, teenage me was careless and now your parents named you after a grape.

🌼 - How old are they? (Or approximate age range)

Born 20th of May 1994. He's 19 in Italian Affairs, the first book of the mainstory he crops up in. He tends to be around that age for all AUs, too.

🌺- Do they have any love interest(s)?

The one and only motherfucker unlimited Francesco Belfari. Francesco is his first kiss, too, due to Dolcetto's atrocious social skills and thusly resulting disinterest in mingling with people.

🍕 - What is their favorite food?

He's a ghiottone! He has a sweet tooth and especially can't get his fill of chocolate!

💼 - What do they do for a living?

Babysitting Feli and being a ruthless bastard! Like many of my characters, he's part of the mob, in this case as a right hand of the Vargas' Bros.

🎹 - Do they have any hobbies?

Already answered here! However, I do want to draw attention to the tags by outright stating - I think wanking should count as a hobby when you are as horny and suppressed as this goblin.

🎯 -What do they do best?

Keeping others on track. Don't get me wrong, he is quite hot-headed and can lose sight of things that are important and chronically overworks himself, but he's a perfect fit as Feli's right hand for a reason. He truly is ruthless in the sense that he sees a way that goes from A to B and is not interested in any frilly side-adventures. He's dependable as all hell and while not as creative as the Bontade twins, actually a good match for them in terms of thinking on his feet.

🥊 -What do they love to do? What do they hate to do?

Francesco. He loves to see plan work out and reap the rewards. He loves to achieve either a physical feat (like rock-wall climbing and reaching the top) or a logistical one (getting one over the Bontades) and get a pat on the back. If it involves hurting people, so be it, good way to get his aggression out, if it involves hurting himself, all the more so be it.

He absolutely loathes having to play along to someone else's games. I bet you he's exploding everyone and himself internally every time he goes to France. At least the Germans are just either as awkward as he is, whatever Gilbert got going on or straight up assholes. He's not good at playing nice, he's not enjoying anyone's attention, he has no interest in being charming at all. He's that Francis Crozier at a party - "Tell us about birdshit island again, that's a capital story." It's the worst part about caring about Feliciano honestly, having to participate in what comes so easily to Franci and Feli.

❤️ - What is one of your OC’s best memories?

I think he does remember Gabriella very fondly from their childhood. And he also misses Venice sometimes, especially when the tourist crowds weren't around in the old city on rainy, gloomy days. Being landlocked in Rome makes him yearn for seaside.

✂️ - What is one of your OC’s worst memories?

Perhaps when he realized his parents don't care much for him. When they wouldn't intervene with the bullying at school, wouldn't help him much and reach out to him at all. When all his cries for help by acting out got him written off as never making something out of himself. He wasn't the 'little sweet one' they had hoped for, so he was on his own.

🧊 - Is their current design the first one?

Yep! Wiry, corkscrew curls, Short - always been my boooy.

🍀 - What originally inspired the OC?

Can't tell you for the life of me, honestly. It's been a long time ...

🌂 - What genre do they belong in?

He should have been in actual gritty gangster drama, to be honest. Not his clownshow, but he is still excelling at it. He's also slaying in nigh every historical AU I have, so he was just made for the drama.

💚 - What is your OC’s gender identity and sexuality?

Cis man and the flop bisexual nobody wants.

🙌 - How many sibling does your OC have?

One! His beloved older sister Gabriella, with who he has an absolutely terrible relationship for many years, because he's pushing her away to not hurt her and she keeps pulling him back so he won't hurt himself.

🍎 - What is the OC’s relationship w/their parents like?

Bad and now non-existent. As I said, the Acerbis (Martina and Bernardo) didn't really know how to handle Dolcetto after Gabriella was such a poster-child of success. They were probably also fairly conservative and saw Dolcetto as someone unwilling to work/who needed to straighten out. Honestly? Lie to them about the mob thing and hide her queerness, they'd take Gabriella back with open arms alongside with her well-to-do Milanese boyfriend. Dolcetto? If he wasn't dead to them before, he'd be now, queer troublemaker with a Neapolitan ne'er-do-well as a partner.

🧠 - What do you like most about the OC?

I like how much Dolcetto's heart is both in the right and the wrong place. He reminds me a lot of my younger self, hell, even of me now at times. He's so focused on having to be useful or otherwise no one will want to have him around that he's willing to destroy himself over it. He thinks if he's not delivering, no one would tolerate him. He IS a bastard, he IS callous often, but he does love and appreciate those around him and I love his journey recognizing that. I love that he finally gains self-worth and not just ego.

✏️ - How often do you draw/write about the OC?

Not as much as I'd like to! I recently drew a tiny headshot of him because I've watched Hazbin and he'd make an excellent exorcist - Plus I cannot resist anything where Dolcetto has a high social status that is yet precarious and along comes Francesco, completely untethered from societal opinion and completely fucking all that up for Dolcetto. But since I've been rewriting Irish Problems for two years now, baby boy isn't as present as I'd like him to be.

💎 - Do you ever see yourself killing off the OC?

I mean, I can't imagine Dolcetto growing old, but that's none of my business.

💀 - Does your OC have any phobias?

Nothing I can think of from the top of my head.

🍩 -Who is your OC’s arch-nemesis or rival?

Marco and Lorenzo! The Bontade twins are one year older than Dolcetto and very much everything he's not. Social butterflies, totally confident in all of their skills, completely sexually open ... To be fair, Dolcetto also looks down upon them and, much like his sister, finds them rather grating and more hot air than skill. In his eyes, with he entire Vargas-Vento rivalry creating this enmity in the first place, them seementitled to something that isn't theirs. So while these two are definitely bullying him, Dolcetto is absolutely not the bigger person. Marco: How could he be? Lorenzo: He'd need stilts!

🎓 - How long have you had the OC?

I was definitely still in middle school. So probably since 11 or 10 years, I don't know how quickly I came up with more characters to populate the LFLS world back then.

🍥 - What age were you when you created the OC?

14 or 15. Absolutely wild to think a 19 year old would be too much meaningfully different from his creator at that age. I'm six years older now than he is in IA.

[drowningyoursorrow]

WALLFLOWER, PT.2

kyle spencer x gn! reader (pt, 1)

You were a barista that worked at a coffee shop in a more secluded area, with only a selective few of customers. You often remained in the back, but ever since you started serving a group regularly. They called themselves witches, and you somewhat believed them. Typically, being away from the world, leading to unwanted loneliness in your work place. You've caught the eye of a certain dead blonde.

!!!: none W/C: 1.7k

IT has been weeks since your encounter with your customer regulars, and honestly, you didn't think it'd affect you this much. But there were many, many moments where you'd miss their banter echoing throughout the café. Sure, most of it was downright ridiculous and made no sense whatsoever from whatever they spurred to hold their place. It still entertained you nevertheless because they'd include you for your input, rather amused at your confused responses. You'd like to think you grew quite close to them because eventually you were even brought in their playful arguments.

They seemed to eventually like your presence as well, saying time to time that they enjoyed your shitty little café more than others. Which has grown quiet, you've begun to think that the guy that was freaking out in your café from before might've had something to do with it all. You've been thinking about the encounter of the whole thing for the time being, well, more about the ragged blonde. The guy started almost going batshit crazy when he couldn't see your face and didn't really speak well. So yeah, you'd say thinking about him was reasonable and not just you being randomly infatuated with him.

You eventually snapped away from your thoughts as you heard a ding from the entryway, shooting your head up. For a quick, fleeting second, you had hoped it would be the girls, maybe even with Kyle once more. It was just another customer, so you quickly got their order. Strange enough they decided they wanted to chat, more like flirting, but you'd pretend to be coy because honestly. You're just trying to do your job, and people like this make you want to chuck off your very own name tag and quit.

But this job was what was getting you food and your shitty apartment's rent, so you can only dream of making a scene to nobody when you quit. You zoned out for a quick minute and surprise, surprise, the jerk is still trying to woo you. Apparently, holding the bitchiest face that you could ever muster and not even staring at the guy is not a hint of disinterest. You wish the café wasn't so empty because he'd have a good reason to go away, but since he's not holding up nay customers. He can do as he pleases, and you're sure that your boss would give you hell if you yelled at a customer that the place barely receives.

As you were slowly going insane, the bell rang once more and there arrived your favorite group and the distinctive boy. They seemed to notice the guy's intentions and how uncomfortable you were, and quickly shoved past him as they ordered their usual. Then like before they made him order as they sauntered off to their seats, even Zoe went off with them. Giving Kyle a reassuring look, maybe to ease his nerves that were very evident on his features when he stood in front of you. You decided that it'd be easier for him if you just offered what he ordered from before, not acknowledging why you remembered.

“So, Caramel Macchiato, like before? If I am correct.” You held the sweetest smile which was strangely genuine in hopes he wouldn't cave into his nerves. He looked surprised that you'd remember what he got, which he struggled to tell you in the beginning. Kyle then fidgeted as he beamed at you now, his face contorting into deep thought. “No, No, I uh- don't want that. It was pretty gross.”

You lifted your brows, somewhat surprised that he spoke more naturally than he did before. Although he was still sort of sluggish with his words, you were impressed by the quick development. Is that why they were all gone? Helping him get better with his speech? The thought made you smile, “I like the speech improvement, impressive to say the least.”

Joking with him, but he seemed flattered nevertheless and just gave you a shy smile as his hands began to tap on the counter. “No caramel macchiato, then?” “Uh yeah- What would... What would you recommend?” He peered up at you, somewhat eagerly waiting for your response, a shy smile laced on his lips. You felt your face heat up lightly at his cheeky appearance, hoping to god that he wouldn't pick up on it.

“Oh, uh- well I don't really drink caffeinated beverages but just the espresso, it does it for me.” You cringed at your awkwardness, but still held a small smile to ease the conversation. Kyle looked deep in thought as he fidgeted before you, “can I get an...- Espresso, then?” His voice was light, and he spoke in a breathy tone, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke to you. “Yeah, of course!”

Maybe you spoke to eager? Nobody is that cheerful to make just anybody an espresso. Before you bored more insecurities at yourself, you quickly headed toward the back. Missing the eyes that pleadingly followed after you when you headed out of view, away from him. You leaned on a wall in the back, cheesing out because a cute guy was happy to see you, or well you hope.

Your coworker studied you, sighing, “you're ridiculous.” They knew of your sudden infatuation with the hesitant boy and thought it was just hilarious. And honestly you did too, you don't even know why you're so interested with him. Perhaps it's because of how he talks like he's never dated anybody in his life before, an awkward teenager. You smiled at the thought of his cheekiness from earlier and pondered as his order was being made.

You quickly grabbed it, heading out to see if he hopefully likes this one rather than the other one from before. Like he was from earlier, he waited patiently for you to come back. He looked lost in thought, before he heard your footsteps approach him, perking up. A grin reappeared on his face as he stood straighter before you, focusing on your face. It was like he was trying to remember every feature of you, scanning you.

His eyes made you feel nervous, so you awkwardly handed him his drink with a smile, avoiding his gaze. He accepted it, his fingers encasing around yours in a quick, fleeting moment. “Thank – you.” “Hope you enjoy!” You turned around, feeling the nervousness bubble within you, yet you felt so happy.

You held your face, sighing, turning back around. Jumping slightly because Kyle still stood in front of you, studying you as he drank his espresso. A smile still being held, but a worried look took place in his eyes. You didn't expect for him to still be there, since usually the customers head back to their seats. The girls were still in the back of the café, chatting away, seeming to forget about Kyle.

“Are, you- okay? I'm sorry if I uh, scared you.” He held a look of shame, looking at his shoes now, lowering the drink in his hand. “What? No, it wasn't that, you didn't scare me, Kyle. I was just surprised!” You quickly tried to reassure him, feeling bad since he looked like a kicked puppy. Your answer didn't seem to make him feel any better, but he did look back into your eyes, embarrassed.

What you were going to say now is rather a quick thought and bold, but maybe shoot your shot now before it's too late? Get hurt now rather than getting hurt later. Besides, maybe this can cheer him up, “how about I make it up to you, yeah? I can buy you, uh, coffee later when I'm off work. Unless you don't want to-” “I want to.”

He interrupted you, now beaming at you as he wore a huge smile, his embarrassment from before long gone, “yes we can, w-we..- We should!” You were baffled at his response, kind of suspecting that he would only look at you with confusion and brush it off. But you smiled back eagerly, the same as him, in sort of disbelief with your sudden confidence. “Well uh, yeah great. If you want, we can do it tomorrow, or if you even can wait for me?” Your hands felt clammy, and you felt your throat swell up as you tried to sort things out.

Hell, you were ecstatic, but your nerves were killing you. “I... I can wait for y-youuuu after work. Yes. I will be right here.” Kyle looked at you attentively, still smiling ear to ear as he struggled to get the words out. Too happy at the moment to even properly remember his speech practice that he's been working on. For you.

He begged Zoe to teach him more proper English, so he could talk and interact with you, without seeming crazy. He's been huddled up all day, working and working on how'd he'd casually talk to you like those couples in the movies. Although he couldn't see you during those days, he remembered that he could be more open with you later on. For some reason, when he saw you, he felt as if he should protect you and be alongside you. In the short moment that you two spent together, he felt safe and comfortable because you didn't look at him weirdly.

You spoke to him softly and didn't even flinch during his tantrums, he only saw curiosity and understanding within you. You have enraptured him. Not only that, but you both were drawn to one another, not even knowing really why. Maybe it was foolish to ask him on a date first thing, but the way he looks at you as you smile at one another. Makes you think, perhaps it's good that you both were being hopeless for each other.

Before you guys could say any more he was being pulled away once more from you, the girls needing somewhere to be. You couldn't really hear them, all you could see and hear was Kyle as he looked back at you. His cheeky smile still there, this time he didn't try pulling away from them. Because now he knew that you'd still be there, waiting for him, and you two would be together. You've doubted the idea of soulmates at first, but now, maybe you were the one that was wrong.

..............................................................................................................................

- I literally only watched AHS Coven for him - Frankenkyle is personally my preferred Kyle - I was listening to cheesy 80's music writing this - Proofread

Hope you enjoyed and if you have any requests or questions please dm!

[ladykailitha]

Writing Patterns

I saw this on my feed and wanted to do it to.

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

Jeana looked down at the purple water lilies in Steve's hand in distaste. - Love is Kind

Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened. - Staking My Claim

“I can’t wear that!” Eddie protested. “I’m going to the Newfield! I’m pretty sure it’s black tie to even breathe in its direction!” - New Years Eve

Eddie walked into the high rise office building feeling a little out of place. All right, maybe a lot of place, if he was being honest with himself. - The Magic of Christmas

Getting out of Hawkins had always been the dream. Being able to do it with three of the best people he had ever had the pleasure of knowing with their music? That was the cherry on top of the icing. - Icacus

The weather started to warm and the Harringtons were away for longer and longer stretches of time. So to say that Steve was happy would be an understatement. -Never Hold Back Your Step...

Nobody expects Steve to be excited for the Renaissance fair. Dustin, Will and Lucas spend hours plotting bribes, schemes and out and out manipulations to get Steve to agree to take them. - The Harrington Pattern

When Steve presented as an omega at the age of sixteen his parents were thrilled. They were going to throw lavish parties of all the best alphas in the state. - Not All That Glitters is Gold

Steve ran blindly through the trees, branches and roots raising to slow his progress to safety. He stopped for breath behind a tree, his leg aching and bleeding from the bullet wound. - Well Met By Moonlight

“I just think we should wait,” Steve huffed for what felt like the millionth time. “Give our allies more time to get to Hawkins.” - Batshit Soulmates

So I may have fudged a bit to add a little context to the first line.

Who to tag? Who to tag? *taps lips*

(no pressure) Tag: @estrellami-1 ​@a-little-unsteddie @zerokrox-blog @vecnuthy @corrodedbisexual

[stardustbarbarians]

Why'd You Go?

A Sequel to Dial Drunk

A Samuel Kiszka / Daniel Wagner fic

Tags: angst, almost fluff (Danny takes care of Sam), making amends

Trigger Warnings: alcoholism, blood/injury, vomiting, fighting, implied drunk driving, referenced car accident

Words: 4.4 k

A/N: This is for @runwayblues specifically and also that anon who asked about a part two. I love you both <3. Cover made once again by the wonderfully talented @ofthecaravel. Title taken from Orange Juice by Noah Kahan, or my favorite Noah Kahan song. Also yeah this is riddled with angst and I'm not sorry. But enjoy! <3

+++

Feels like I've been ready for you to come home for so long

The ride from the Sheriff’s Station was tense, filled with nothing but silence. Though Sam knew to keep his mouth shut and attempt to stay Daniel’s anger, he still couldn’t help but smile as he sat beside him. His batshit, backwards, insane plan of getting Daniel to talk to him again had somehow worked in his favor. 

Periodically, Daniel would glance over at Sam. And every time that happened, his frown would deepen as he took in the sight of Sam’s saccharine grin. But he never commented on it. Instead, the pair remained silent as they drove on through the night, nothing but the sound of the rain pelting the windshield filling the vacuum of voices. 

Sam hadn’t even realized they had pulled up to Danny’s house until the latter had gripped his steering wheel so tight his knuckles bleached of color. He couldn't see it, but the man was gritting his teeth fiercely as well, but he’d realize as soon as Daniel spoke. 

“How drunk are you,” he growled through his teeth, not even bothering to look over in Sam’s direction. He kept his gaze locked so intensely at the rain slithering down his windshield, Sam irrationally believed that it would start boiling. 

“What?” he dumbly asked, feeling like his brain was swimming in molasses. 

With a measured, yet heavy breath through his nose, Daniel asked again. 

“On a scale of one to ten, how drunk are you?” It was spoken so slowly, each word deliberate and pointed like he was speaking to a toddler. Which, to be fair, Sam was acting like one. 

Taken aback by Daniel’s malice, Sam blinked a few times as he took in the sight of his ex. Danny was still pointedly looking in the exact same spot he had been, his nostrils flared and the steering wheel creaking beneath his grip. It was dead silent, save for the windshield wipers squeaking against the glass every second that passed. That was how Sam knew it took him ten seconds to respond. 

“I guess an eight and a half…” he slurred, already regretting consuming as much tequila as he had. If he closed his eyes for too long, his head would spin worse than that fair ride that pinned you against the wall as it twisted around. 

Daniel’s sigh was heavy as he bonked his head against the steering wheel. Sam thought he heard Danny muttered a “god help me” under his breath before turning the car off and throwing his door open. The rain was incredibly louder outside. Before Sam even fully registered what happened, his door was being opened and his seatbelt became unbuckled. 

“Let’s go,” Danny barked, wrapping Sam’s arm around his shoulders and slamming the car door closed with his foot.

Sam didn’t say anything, able to ascertain how bad Daniel’s mood was even through his alcohol muddled brain. But he couldn’t keep that stupid grin from his face. This scenario was bringing up a lot of past memories of the two of them going through nights just like this one where it would end with them both satiated sexually. 

And then Sam was rudely thrown out of his reminiscing when Daniel all but tossed him against a brick wall so that he could unlock his front door. And due to that, Sam felt the scrape on his arm reopen. 

Before Sam could say anything about it to Danny, the drunken idiot was being tugged inside and manhandled into a seat so that the sober man could take off his shoes. It was probably the most aggressive Daniel had ever taken care of Sam, and frankly, Sam didn’t understand what he’d done to deserve that. 

“Dan, are you maaaaad at me?” Sammy asked, whining like a child. Without really meaning to, he also flashed the man his puppy dog eyes. 

All he got in return was a scowl. 

“Did you really just ask me that?” Daniel’s response was clipped, his tone laced with uncut rage just barely repressed for the sake of accommodating the stillness of the early morning hour. 

“You’ve been angry at me since you picked me up from the station and I deserve to know why,” Sam demanded, attempting to sound as adult as he didn’t feel. Attempted to, anyway. He was way too drunk and his demand had come across as a child threatening a temper tantrum if he didn’t get his cookie. 

For a moment, Daniel seemed as if he was going to answer that honestly, Sam noticing how his body was tensing up like it used to before he rose to Sam’s bait before one of their huge arguments. But then, like a balloon deflating, Daniel just cast his attention away from the drunken idiot and stood from his spot. 

“It’s too early for this shit and you’re way too drunk for this,” he breathed, rubbing his temples with his fingers, “so lay down on your side and try to sleep. I’m going to leave my door cracked so I can hear if you throw up, but do not even think about going in there, you understand?” 

Sam, not knowing anything Daniel just said at him, stared blankly at the sober man. 

“Do you understand me?” Daniel asked again, clamping his hands on either side of Sam’s face so that he was looking Danny in the eyes. 

“You’re so pretty,” Sam gushed. If this were a cartoon from the 60s, hearts would’ve been floating out of his head. 

“You are fucking unreal,” Daniel spat in disgust, ripping his hands away from Sam’s face when the latter melted into his grip. 

Able to recognize that Danny was leaving, Sam grabbed at his sleeve and tugged Danny towards him. “Noooooo, you’re not done taking care of meeeeeeee.” 

Sam swore that he heard Danny growl under his breath before he turned to face Sam. If he hadn’t been so drunk, he might’ve jumped at the amount of annoyance and anger burning in Daniel’s eyes. 

“What are you talking about?” Daniel hissed, yanking his arm away from the drunkard’s grip. Sammy was pulled forward just a touch before he let go of Danny’s sleeve. 

“My arm! It’s all cut up and-” Sam made the mistake of glancing over to his actively bleeding elbow, a river of red sluggishly making its way down towards his hand. As he noticed how much blood was pouring out of his wound, he felt his stomach violently churn and lurch. 

Suddenly, Sam felt his skin turn cold as bile began to climb its way up his throat. He clamped a hand over his mouth to ensure that he wouldn’t vomit all over Danny’s floor before he shot up from his spot in the chair. His eyes snapping open to the size of dinner plates, Sam ran for the kitchen sink. It was only a few paces away, but he still sent a prayer to whoever would listen that he made it. 

The sound of his retching was disgusting to his own ears. Sam couldn’t imagine how vile it was for Danny who was stone cold sober. It wasn’t pleasant. He’d always hated throwing up, the way it would burn your throat and leave your teeth all gritty and coated in plaque. The taste was the worst part. Sour like the Devil and repulsive in the worst way. Liquor never tasted pleasant the second time around. 

With a tremendous sigh Sam heard between bouts of sickness, Daniel walked over to the drunkard and gathered Sam’s long locks in his hand and stood by as Sam puked up the sorrows he attempted to drown. Sam noticed how he’d grimace with each retch, but he stayed put. And at one point, Danny even patted Sammy’s back when he moaned in absolute misery. Though, if Sam could see Daniel’s face, he’d have been able to see the exasperation written all over his features. 

When Sam’s stomach stopped convulsing and forcing all of the tequila he drank out of him, he spit into the sink to attempt to rid his mouth of the horrible taste. Of course, it was no use and that godforsaken bitterness lingered. With another pathetic groan, Sam slowly pulled his head out of the sink. Daniel dropped Sam’s hair and turned the faucet on, spraying away Sam’s vomit from the stainless steel. 

Sam, his head no longer spinning but feeling as though it was comprised of television static, sank to the floor as he leaned against the cabinet beneath the sink. He held his head in his hands and simply closed his eyes, focusing on the sound of the water rather than his own shame. He didn’t know how long he had sat there like that before Daniel interrupted his pity party by handing him a glass of water. 

“Stay there,” Daniel tiredly sighed before Sam heard him leave the room. The drunkard downed that water, saving the last gulp to swish it around in his mouth and spit it back into the glass before setting it off to the side. 

Sam, not knowing what to do and simply wanting his misery to cease, began humming Old Man by Neil Young to try and calm himself. It was halfway through the first chorus that Daniel returned. He held a tube of toothpaste that was half empty, a toothbrush still in its packaging, and a white box with red letters nearly entirely rubbed off. Sam instantly recognized it. It was the first aid kit that Danny’s mom had given to him after he had cut himself while cooking and had no band-aids to speak of. She insisted that the two of them keep it when she showed up for dinner the next Sunday, Sam taking it from her because Daniel was stubborn about the whole affair. 

After Danny had set the items on the counter, he kneeled down next to Sam. “C’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

Sam felt himself be hoisted to his feet by his not-bleeding arm. His wooziness returned as his blood rushed from his head, having to lean on the counter to stay up-right. He still had to keep his eyes closed lest he allow himself to be overtaken by his headrush. He heard Daniel ripping open the packaging of the toothbrush before poking Sam with it. Sam blearily opened his eyes before accepting the toothbrush and reaching over Danny to grab the toothpaste. Once Sam finished brushing his teeth, he held up his arm towards Danny who was holding a cotton ball and rubbing alcohol in his hands. 

Sammy hissed in pain as Daniel wiped down Sam’s wound, seeing Danny roll his eyes from the coroner of his. Biting back the urge to call him out like he would’ve ten months prior, Sam simply let out a sigh. He thought Danny was being unnecessarily rough with him, but also knew making a comment would result in a fight. But then, thinking about it, anything Sam would’ve said probably would result in a fight. 

With that thought, Sam realized how he felt significantly more sober than before he had thrown up. And here he was just thinking that was just a myth. 

“Seeing blood has never made me throw up like that before,” Sam tentatively spoke, hoping to make some kind of conversation with Danny that wouldn’t cause a row. He watched as Danny threw one bloody cotton ball away before picking up another and pouring isopropyl on it. 

“Well, drinking a bar dry of their liquor might have that side effect,” Danny spat, refusing to look at Sam. 

Sam, forgetting himself, scoffed at the statement. 

“That’s fucking rich coming from you.” 

With that, Daniel finally looked Sam in the eye again. And Sam wished he hadn’t. Just like every other instance that night, Daniel’s eyes were burning with an unfettered rage. But, unlike the other times, Sam realized that Danny’s restraint had snapped. 

“So that’s how this is gonna go, huh?” Daniel’s grip on Sam’s injured arm tightened; not enough to hurt but enough to feel it. 

“You and I both know there was a point in time where you could drink me and an entire bar of drunks under the table,” Sam spat, each word forcefully delivered as he stared down his ex. 

“That was a year ago, Sam!” 

“Oh, so that makes you better than me, right?” 

“I wasn’t the one tossed into the fucking drunk tank tonight, was I?” 

Once again, Sam laughed bitterly. “Yeah. You’re right. You weren’t. Tonight, anyway.” 

Sammy watched Daniel’s hand holding the cotton ball curl itself into a fist. He also watched as his jaw clenched in anger. Danny, before he could really get into his anger bred out of offense, took several breaths to center himself. Perhaps needing a distraction, Daniel went back to tending to Sam’s bleeding wound. 

“You have no right to act all holier-than-thou with me, Daniel,” Sam hissed, gripping his free hand onto the side of the counter so hard his knuckles drained of color. 

“Don’t you bring up my past-”

“Our past.” 

“Right. Our past. You were right there next to me while we drank ourselves nearly to death. What’s your fucking point, Samuel?!” 

Sam was gritting his teeth, his jaw going sore from the sheer force of it. “My point is that you can’t only blame me for what happened!!”

Danny ripped his hand off of Sam’s arm, the action making the drunk man’s skin throb. It only fueled Sam’s anger. 

“I changed! The whole fucking town changed after that! You, Samuel, are the only one who didn’t!! Dont you find that fucking strange?? Or are you too busy trying to drown yourself in alcohol every night to fucking notice?!” Daniel cried, his tone beginning to border on hysterical.

“Oh, I am so sorry, your highness! I guess that I am the fucking problem!! It’s my fault, everyone, because you weren’t an adult responsible for your actions!!” Sam argued back rather immaturely, waving his arms around as he yelled. 

“You know that last time I drank I ended up passed out, face down in the snow of our backyard. That was ten months ago,” Daniel growled, his hands curling into fists. 

“Oh, so I’m just pulling you down, huh?! God, you always had to blame everyone else besides yourself,” Sam spat back. 

Again, Daniel stopped. This time, it was right before he said something, his mouth poised open ready to strike. But, then he snapped it shut and closed his eyes again. 

“Why did you call me, Sam? Why do you always call me?” The only way Sam could describe the look Danny was giving him was “wounded puppy”. 

It was spoken so quietly, so frailly that it made the other pause. He was far from prepared for how the atmosphere had shifted on a dime. While Sam struggled to comprehend the change, Daniel finally finished cleaning and bandaging Sam’s wound, dropping his arm and shutting the first aid kit. 

How could Sam answer that? With the truth? 

I always call you because every minute that passes without you is pure agony for me. I call you when I’m drunk because I’m too much of a coward to do it in the light of day and sober. I only call you when I’m arrested because it’s the only good excuse I have to call you. I love you and I need you to come back, no matter how toxic what we had was. 

When Samuel failed to answer and the oppressive silence of the darkened hours before dawn became too much, Daniel spoke again. 

“What do you want from me?” 

That… That was something Sam could answer. 

“I want answers, Daniel.” 

Danny let out a tired sigh at the statement, his eyes casting downwards. It was silent once more after that, only the sound of Danny’s nails nervously rapping on the counter filling the void of sound. 

Sam counted. Two minutes had passed before he scrounged up the courage to speak again. It felt like a century. 

“Why’d you go?” 

Daniel turned his body away from Sam, placing both hands on the counter before him. “You know why.” 

“No. I deserve better than that. You can’t just pick up in the middle of the night without a fucking word and expect me to be satisfied with ‘you know why’!” Sam felt his heart rate pick up as his anger spiked again. 

“You would know if you ever paid attention to me,” Daniel growled under his breath, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he clenched it. 

“Maybe if you hadn’t screamed at me every fucking night, I would’ve been more inclined to listen!” 

That made Danny snap again, his palm slamming down onto the counter so hard that it rattled the rest of the house. With that, Sam took a step back involuntarily. 

“IT WAS THE ONLY WAY TO GET THROUGH TO YOU WHEN YOU WERE TOO DRUNK TO STAND! AFTER-” 

Daniel cut himself off, his words seeming to catch in his throat as his emotions changed from outraged to haunted in the blink of an eye. Instantly, Sam knew what Daniel was remembering. 

Sam could hear them too, the sound of the tires screaming against the pavement as they braked too quickly, the glass shattering around them as Sam covered his neck to save it from the razor-sharp shards. The feeling of traveling in slow motion as the ice of the road sent them careening into a telephone pole to avoid the bright headlights speeding towards them head on. The sensation of no sensation in Sam’s right arm until he attempted to move it, and was suddenly overtaken by blinding pain. The wail he released at the agony sounding foreign to his own ears. 

“I had to leave,” Daniel shakily finished, his hands quaking as he ran them over his face, “Being around… being around alcohol like that…” 

At that point, Danny looked up at Sam, his eyes dripping with sorrow and repressed guilt. Sam felt tears of his own threaten to fall, his chest painfully twisting at the sight of his love in such turmoil. He felt especially helpless when Danny broke down into tears, folding in on himself as his shoulders began shaking. 

Biting his lip and throwing caution to the wind, Sam took the steps to get to Daniel before wrapping his arms around the crying man. To his complete surprise, Danny leaned into Sam’s embrace and clutched at Sam’s still damp shirt. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam soothed, resting his head atop Daniel’s. He began running his hands over Danny’s back, praying it would offer any comfort to his ex. 

“You weren’t the one driving,” Danny whispered between sobs. 

“But I was the one who convinced you to go out drinking that night,” Sammy reminded, his guilt punching open a previously haphazardly bandaged bullet hole in his gut. 

Danny remained silent after that, save for his sniffles. 

“It’s just as much my fault as it is yours.” 

“We were lucky no one died,” Daniel squeaked, his voice cracking halfway in. He burrowed deeper into Sam’s embrace. 

“You were lucky you walked away without a scratch. I had to wear an arm cast for months,” Sam teased, even laughing weakly. Well, he attempted too, anyway. It seemed to only manage to make Daniel feel worse. 

“I’m sorry-”

“I’ve already forgiven you.” 

Another bout of silence permeated the air, this one much less tense, however. Sam, selfishly, was happy. He was finally holding onto Daniel again after almost a year of not even seeing him once. Not for lack of trying, of course. 

“And, really, I should be the one apologizing to you.” Sam suppressed his very strong urge to kiss Daniel on his forehead, knowing it was inappropriate. But, damn, if he didn’t want to shower him in kisses until it got through to Daniel just how sorry he was for all the pain he caused him. 

Daniel pulled away. And Sam, reluctantly, let him. The both of them wiped away their tears, their eyes casting anywhere that wasn’t each other. This was different from earlier where they feared looking at one another would result in a fist fight; this time around, it boiled down to awkwardness. 

After a moment of wringing his hands, Daniel cleared his throat and made an aborted motion with his hand. “I’m… let me get you some dry clothes before you catch death.” 

And with that, he disappeared down the hall. Sam, now alone with nothing but the darkness and his thoughts for company (both of which he despised), distracted himself by looking around Daniel’s kitchen for something to eat as his stomach rumbled. But as it clenched in phantom pain of how violently he had retched not even an hour earlier, he settled on finding something to drink. 

Right as Sam finished pouring himself a glass of orange juice, Daniel returned with fresh clothes clutched to his chest. Without a word - despite him making a failed attempt at speaking - Danny simply handed them over to Sam. 

“The bathroom is down the hall and to the right; first door,” Daniel informed, not able to hold eye contact with Sam for more than a second. 

With a quiet “thank you”, Sam accepted the clothes and went off to change. He couldn’t help the wistful smile on his lips as he recognized the pair of sweatpants Danny handed him as an old pair of his own. He thought he’d lost them. After he pulled those on and an old t-shirt, Sam threw his wet clothes over the curtain rod so that they could dry properly. Taking a deep breath, Sam left the bathroom and went to face Daniel again. 

“I wasn’t sure if they would fit,” Danny admitted, playing with the hem of his own sweatshirt. 

“Y-Yeah, they fit well…” Sam nervously played with his hair, pushing it out of his face and tucking it behind his ears. 

Once again, the air was permeated with an awkward silence. There was so much still left unsaid between the two. They both wanted to say so much, yet didn’t at the same time. More accurately, they didn’t know how. 

Sam, his heart pounding harder than a war drum, was the first to speak. 

“Is there any reality where I get to call you mine again?” Sam smiled nervously, the poor thing only lasting on his lips for a second before it fell. 

That made Daniel look Sam in the eyes, clearly caught by surprise. Sam watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, his eyes darting away from Sam again. 

“I… I don’t know. You haven’t seemed to grow or learn from our… the incident.” 

“I’ll quit, I swear,” Sam quickly promised, taking a step towards Daniel in his haste to prove his willingness and eagerness. It seemed to be the wrong thing to do as Daniel reacted by taking a step backwards. 

Judging by the other man’s reaction, he hadn’t meant to. But it was too late. Danny’s actions spoke louder than his words. Sam hung his head, dropping the hand he had reached out to his former partner. 

“We weren’t good for each other, Sam.” 

“Please, just give me one more chance. I promise I’ll be what you deserve this time around,” Sam begged, knowing that if he didn’t have that one last shred of dignity left, he would be on his knees before Daniel. 

Still, Danny didn’t seem convinced. And Sam, knowing that he wouldn’t change Daniel’s mind that night, simply sighed and resigned himself to that. 

“I know my behavior tonight or over the past few months proves nothing, so how about this. I get help and quit drinking; and if in three months I’m not sober or close to it, I leave you alone forever. I want to prove to you how much you mean to me, Daniel. Please give me the chance to do that.” Sam was trying his absolute best to try and catch Danny’s eye, achieving his goal at the last moment. 

Sam felt studied beneath Daniel’s watchful eye, his very soul being peered into by that amber gaze. After what felt like an eternity, Danny seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“I’ll help you.” 

“W-What?” 

“If you really mean it, I’ll help you get sober.” 

Sam froze for a second. It was hardly what he was expecting. But once his brain kicked back online, Sam felt his entire body come alight with hope. 

“I am. I really am. I hate the direction my life has gone. But, won’t you be at risk?” 

Daniel failed at suppressing a smile. “While I appreciate your concern, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think I was strong enough to handle it.” 

“Then I would love nothing more,” Sam breathed, a smile of his own spreading across his lips. 

“But, this does not mean we’re back together, you understand? I won’t even consider that until I think you’ve proved you are worth a second chance,” Daniel firmly reinforced, gesturing with his hand as he spoke. 

“Completely understood,” Samuel enthusiastically confirmed, all but buzzing with excitement at simply the prospect of a second chance at being with Danny again. 

It was at that moment that Sam realized that the sun had begun to poke its eager head above the horizon, weak rays of light needling their way into the window of Danny’s kitchen. 

“We should at least try to get some sleep,” Daniel implored, his eyes staring regretfully at the very early morning rays of sun, “you can sleep on the couch.” 

Sam nodded, glancing at the couch aforementioned. 

“Can I hug you?” he blurted out, regretting it as soon as the request left his lips. Of course he would say no, it was still way too early in their very tentative attempt at rebuilding their relationship. He was a fool for even thinking-

“Alright.” 

Not for the first time that night, Daniel Robert Wagner had surprised Sam. 

With a smile on his face that displayed exactly that, he carefully took a step forward. When Danny didn’t move, Sam took another. Then another. Then another. Finally, he tentatively wrapped his arms around the man in front of him; Daniel copied the act. 

Sam had to blink rapidly to keep himself from crying. It was no use. The tears fell down his cheeks on their own accord as Daniel squeezed his former lover, pulling him closer. 

“Thank you,” Sam shakily whispered. 

When the two pulled apart, Daniel gently wiped away a tear on Sam’s cheek and then made his way to get some sleep. As Sam stood alone in his ex’s living room with dawn rapidly encroaching, he felt, for the first time in a very long time, like he had something to look forward to. For the first time since he awoke alone in his formerly shared apartment ten months ago, Sam finally cared; it was freeing. With Daniel at his side, he would conquer his demons. 

+++

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[11x13kyle]

stylegate

stan and kyle have been together for what at this point is probably like 2500000 years, but their relationship was pretty private because stan was in the closet for a while

when stan comes out, it’s another 4-6 months before his relationship with kyle is made public (passive voice because it was NOT by choice)

there’s a lot of relationship speculation, but kyle is really NOT one of the people that is suspected, aside from a couple of reddit posts with like 2 upvotes that say shit like “my money’s on kyle from fireside chats pod”

most of the replies to this are like “dude what the fuck are you talking about. just because they’re from the same place and the same age like next you’re gonna say craig tucker is the secret boyfriend. get real.”

there are anon submissions on deuxmoi about stan

some directly allude to kyle, others are bullshit

prior to being publicly in a relationship, stan and kyle are out to their friends and family on personal accounts but not in the public eye. stan’s socials are mostly business anyway, and kyle’s socials are mostly discourse and drama and bullshit. he mentions having a boyfriend but is very vague about it

that said, they are seen spending time together but its seen more as them running in the same circles rather than them being close (god forbid CLOSE)

*callout post voice* hey can you tag your c/r/i/m/s/o/n d/a/w/n posts???? their lead singer has literally been seen spending time with the f1r3s1d3 guys so he probably shares in their reactionary viewpoints and that makes me uncomfy ://

kyle and cartman occasionally mention an elusive friend named stan and give barely any details about him so people think stan is just some dude that they know irl and not lead singer of hit band crimson dawn

and no one’s gonna think it’s him because stan’s cd persona is just so normal that no one is going to connect the dots and go “oh this batshit insane person from their stories is the same person who is relatively regular on stage!”

there is minor speculation because they did grow up in the same area and are the same age but people enjoy their delusions and cognitive dissonance

speculation is still mostly redditors that get barely any interactions

slightly before the outing butters casually refers to stan as kyle’s boyfriend but people just think he’s being homophobic

this is after stan comes out so people think he’s mocking stan for his sexuality --> butters homophobia allegations, cancellation #832349038 for him. just another tuesday

cartman addresses this on fireside by saying something along the lines of: look, i know butters, and i can confirm that YES, butters knows exactly what he’s doing. he hates gays, he thinks stan is a dumb fag, and he is violently homophobic, and--

people love to ask craig and those guys about it on their podcast but they never answer anything because fireside is the enemy and they actively dislike them

craig answers exactly once with the response: “who the fuck are kyle and eric?” and that’s it

on a personal level, kyle is cool with tolkien and jimmy, but they all collectively despise cartman, so fireside as a pod is not a friend

stan and kyle’s relationship is eventually outed because butters accidentally lets it slip like for REAL on his show and shit hits the fan

“Who is Stan Marsh’s Boyfriend and Why Should You Be Concerned?”

after stan and kyle are publicly an item stan goes on the pod a couple of times, but not until the initial outrage dies down

when he comes on the show it’s treated as a Very Special Episode. kenny guest stars so that he can help cartman to terrorize stan and interrogate him with wildly personal questions

stan fucks around with his answers

“who tops?” “..........we’re both virgins?”

this answer leads to cartman and kenny taking 10 minutes to debate the reality of this assertion

kenny asks if they know about the camera that cartman has set up in their bedroom

cartman has seriously considered putting a cam in kyle’s room so he doesn’t laugh as hard at that as one would think

kyle is so fucking angry. he’s making a pissed off buzzing sound the whole time

at some point, i don’t know when, stan definitely pulls out his cartman impression

[lovelyd0gg]

8th Winning HC!

You guys chose Joe Toye! I'm so sorry I didn't write it sooner. It got too late to write about him<3 but enjoy<3!

Toye's reaction to you breaking a leg!

Warnings: Fluffy, broken bone:(

𝐉𝐨𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐞.

•When you were running away from him, most likely playing tag (because you are children at heart)

•You tripped over something and fell pretty hard.

•Causing your leg to go "CRACK" and then you both stayed quiet for a second or two.

•When your eyes started to get watery and you burst into tears and screams of pain.

•He immediately picked you up bridal style, gently as possible.

•Put you in the car and drove as fast as he could to the hospital.

•When you both arrived there, he picked you up and went in the hospital.

•He was telling you some comforting words so that you'd calm down and not cry as much.

•When the doctors got you to the bed, they got an X-ray of you and soon confirmed, you broke your leg.

•(SINCE I DON'T KNOW MUCH ABOUT DOCTOR STUFF, LET'S JUST SKIP THAT PART) Let's just say, Toye was extremely nervous and anxious that you wouldn't be okay.

•But you ended up in a wheelchair and everything was okay.

•This also gave Toye an opportunity to push you around in the wheelchair!

•After a couple of weeks or so in the wheelchair, you were fully healed!

•Toye would be lying if he said he wasn't batshit anxious for you, but you both manager to get through it.

•Now, you'll be playing tag outside.

[the-witch-of-woods-beyond]

Team Green aren’t real. How do you not get that? How old are you? If you’re over 18, please get a refund for any education you’ve paid money for because you were terribly failed. If you’re under 18, keep up the Percy Jackson blogging and gtfo of adult spaces because you don’t have the mental capacity or intelligence to engage with ASOIAF/HOTD.

lol first ever after high and now percy jackson - if you think you’re insulting me, you’re wrong. at least those fandoms aren’t batshit insane. and at least they have READING COMPREHENSION.

how many times have i said it - team green are not real, the issues that people use them to justify and defend (eg. rape and sexism) ARE real. if you come online and defend those actions, then you agree with and support them. i don’t care what you think. i don’t care what you enjoy. if you see something in a general tag that you don’t agree with, then you FUCKING SCROLLL. and if someone (rightfully) calls you out for supporting rapists and abusers, then don’t double down and defend yourself and make excuses for those actions. i made a post - you don’t like it, SCROLLLL. do you know how many posts i see on a daily basis that i don’t agree with? i don’t leave shitty comments or hide behind an anonymous tag to insult someone. i made a post criticising the amount of people excusing and support team green and their actions and i tagged it correctly.

my god, it’s not that hard and i’ve had enough of going in circles. i hate rapists and sexists and abusers. for whatever reason, you don’t. i don’t give a shit. enjoy what you want. don’t come under my posts or on my blog and hide behind an anonymous tag to spread your bullshit, because i will respond. keep to your side and i’ll keep to mine.