#i know i skipped a few days but ill post them soon lol

[boysbellyrubs]

So you posted these asks a while ago, but I didn’t get to ask then, so, if you still want to, could you maybe do

ice cream: are there any foods your character cant eat?

carsick: does your character get motion sickness:

greasy spoon: how does your character's stomach react to junk food?

thanksgiving: how much can they eat without feeling sick? how much can they eat without GETTING sick?

for Quinn and Caine? 🥰

I absolutely love your writing and all your ocs. I hope you have a nice day ❣️

omg anon thank you so much for asking!! had so much fun with this hehe

Ice Cream

Caine: okay so this man can eat pretty much anything, and he has always prided himself on the fact that he has no food intolerances and no allergies. he does have some pretty strong opinions on some foods though, and he will refuse to eat them not because of getting sick but just because he's picky.

Quinn: he is also fine with any food, when he was younger he had a little experience with eating too much dairy but that was just because he ate too much in one sitting and he got a belly ache, so he doesn't have any intolerances or allergies either.

Carsick

Caine: righty, he gets very seasick unless he takes those seasickness pills. like, he knows he's gonna get sick unless he takes them exactly an hour beforehand or else he's going to get on the boat and immediately lose his shit. he's also scared of the ocean. but yeah, shaking, difficulty walking, vomiting the whole shebang.

Quinn: he gets plane sick, or airsickness whatever you wanna call it, so he likes to travel by car a lot instead of flying. thankfully he doesn't often fly anywhere since he likes driving, but when it is absolutely necessary he dreads it so much. he panics a lot beforehand so it makes it worse and then he gets on the plane and is literally shoving his head in a paper bag the entire time.

Greasy Spoon

Caine: can eat junk food in moderation. the normal amount people would eat yanno, but sometimes he can't help himself and his stomach responds with those greasy gurgles and is bloated for a few hours afterwards. it doesn't stop him from eating it though, especially when he gets his belly rubbed for his misery.

Quinn: can handle junk food easy as, he's always been sporty and one of the traditions was to get junk food after a game so his stomach is used to it ig. his stomach feels full for a while though and he often skips dinner if he had it for lunch because it's too much for his stomach.

Thanksgiving

Caine: he can eat quite a fair amount before feeling sick, whenever he's eating a big meal he eats it slowly and makes sure to not overdo it all at once. as soon as he hits his mark though, he immediately puts down his utensils and stops, maybe nibbling some crumbs but he doesn't risk it. and continuing from this, he sometimes doesn't feel the effects of his overindulgence until it's too late and the nausea is tingling at his jaw and he has to quickly excuse himself from the table. so it does take a lot for him to get sick but it happens suddenly and doesn't give him much breathing room.

Quinn: he is a big eater and the amount of food he can eat before feeling sick is a lot more than Caine. when Caine stops, Quinn can sometimes eat a little off his plate and not feel ill. it sort of hits him after he's finished though, the heaviness in his belly will morph into nausea a little after his meal, making him feel icky and sick. he finally throws up when he's been grazing all day and then eaten a full meal on top of that, so a whole bunch of different foods and too much of them will cause him to run to the nearest toilet to puke his guts up.

---

and that's it, this was so fun lol. i can take requests on any of these 'scenarios' too lol

[cherrb333]

Renai's backstory

Ok, here we go, you can skip this section if you dont want to read it lol. Anyways, here it is, my first story that im posting here! Let me know if you would like to see more, im actually really proud with how to turned out, and i hope youll like it as much as i liked writing it:)

Fluff, angst, and a little bit of manipulation on big mama’s part. This is the story of Renai, who is the missing little sister of the turtles. They were separated when she was just a baby. Also ill repost an image of her to show you more info on her! Thanks for reading and bye bye~

ps. its also on ao3 if you wanna read it there:D

Explosions rippled through the building as sparks flew, one minute she was in the arms of a rat-looking guy, and the next she went flying into a sewer drain, crashing into a cold substance. She swam up, peeping desperately as she tried to keep her tiny head above water. As if god had heard her, a piece of wood floated over to her and she gripped it with her tiny little three-fingered hands. The water was strong, almost pulling the poor little turtle down into the deep depths of the water below, but she clung to it hard, desperate to stay above water as the waves smacked her back and forth, it didn't stop until a few hours later, she ended up crashing against a wall. She peeped louder and louder, desperate to be noticed by anyone! Soon, her peeps were answered. A high-pitched accented voice sounded from a few inches above her, completely silencing her peeping.

“My, my, what have we here? A little turtley-poo?” as soon as she was thrown into the water, the quicker she was pulled out of it, she blinked tears out of her little eyes, sniffling as she looked up at her saviour, making grabby hands as she continued to chirp and peep at the spider. The spider lady placed the little turtle on her back, beginning to walk away from the river curtly. “Ah yes, you will do well once you’ve grown, my little pet.” she ran her thumb over the little turtle's head softly, petting her head.

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The sound of her alarm caused her to crash off the bed with a yelp, scaring the poor cat lying on her legs half to death. The cat meowed with a little questioning lilt in his tone, the striped turtle groaned as she sat up, rubbing her head, and she felt a bump forming where she had hit it. She sighed as she stumbled out of the blanket, almost tripping as she got caught up in the fabric. She pushed the blanket down, placing it back on the bed neatly as she petted her cat.

“Sorry, solstice, didn't mean to scare ya!” she giggled as the cat purred, already forgetting what she had done. She scrambled to grab her belt and mask, tying them on before running out to the hallway and down the stairs. “Good morning stan!” she called to the bellhop as she ran into the elevator with a pep in her step. The owl yokai grunted as he looked at her with a curt nod. He was always so quiet, so Renai didn’t comment on it. She bounced on her heels, tapping her fingers on her side nervously. “Sooooo, today’s my big day! Mama’s letting me join the battle nexus!” she spoke up, attempting once again to start a conversation, only to come up dry as the owl simply grunted in return. Her face fell into a scowl. “Not much for conversation as usual are we, Stanford?” she joked, getting a roll of his eyes in response. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tapped her foot on the floor of the elevator. She was always super hyper, so it was no surprise to see she couldn't stay still, even for a second. “Come on~ not even a hello? A si?? Come onnnnn, for your favorite turtle? Pleaseeeeee~” she batted her eyes, using her puppy dog eyes. She only got a huff in response, making her sulk as the owl turned away from her, opening the door to the elevator. 

“Here’s your stop miss…” he gruffly spoke, gesturing for her to leave, she sulked the entire time she exited the elevator.

“Fine~ but I will get a smile out of you soon! I promise!” she exclaimed as she bolted down the hall to her mother’s office, bursting through the doors with a sparkle in her eyes.

“G’ morning Mother!” she exclaimed as she came sliding through the door, almost crashing into a wall had she not been grabbed by Gus, who had been standing by the door when she came running in. She hugged the dog Yokai before jumping down, patting his head as she turned to her mother, who held a hand over her mouth as she snickered into her hand at her daughters' antiques.

“Ah! What scrumbulent timing, my pet!” she wicks her finger, beckoning the young turtle to come forth. “I have a special task for you my deary-doo!” she exclaimed, tapping her thumbs together as she swivelled around to look out the giant window that overlooked the outside world. Renai hummed, confused.

“With you joining the battle nexus soon, I must know you are up for the challenge pet,” she turned around giving her daughter a small smile. “I need you to fetch something for me…or really, someone” she explained vaguely, causing Renai’s confusion to be replaced by even more confusion and slight frustration. 

“Wh- b-but mom! You said-” She was interrupted by her mother’s tutting as she felt the slender fingers place over her mouth to quiet her.

“I know what I said, pet,” she exclaimed, pulling her fingers away from her daughter's mouth she stood from her seat. “But this mission is more important than your debut,” Renai felt as if her head was pounding. This was all so confusing, her mother never put anything above her precious battle nexus. This must be really really important. That’s two really’s. She huffed, bowing her head as she fell onto one knee in respect for her mother.

“Ok mother,” she sulked, almost tearing up as she felt a great sadness at not being able to prove to her mom that she was ready. “What is my mission.” Big Mama hummed, patting the girl's head, and running her fingers down to her striped cheek. 

“Well, little turtley-poo, you see, I have run into quite the oody-woozle. There has been a rise in mutants, and those pesky turtles keep getting in the way of my splendiferous plans!” she sulked, wiping a fake tear away from her eye. “So, I want you to watch them. Become friends with them.” she fell back into her chair, pushing a gem into her daughters hand. “And report back to me with any information you would find would benefit me- i mean us! If i find out what the turtley-poos are up to, i can finally take them down! And~ if you succeed, i will let you fight, in the battle nexus, no complaints. But, pet, if you fail…well lets hope you wont, because i promsie you, big mama will lock you up forever, never to interact, talk, nor fight. Ever. again.” she threatened, causing renai’s eyes to widen, fear swirling in the golden irises along with anxiety and sadness.

“Yes, mother, i promise you…i wont fail.” she bowed her head, clenching her fist against her knee as she swiftly stood up, receiving another pat on the head.

“Alright, good luck, my pet” she pulled her hand away, serious face quickly replaced by a fake smile. “Now, go pack. I have it arranged for you to stay in the city amongst the humans. You will be given a human disguise to blend in, and you will watch the turtles from afar. I love you, deary-doo!” big mama curled her fingers together on her desk, placing her head on her hands as she nodded at gus to escort renai out. 

“Love you too, Mom” she whispered, scuffling out the door where she was handed a suitcase full of her belongings. She quickly walked back to her room, where she grabbed Solstice, placed him in a cat carrier, and rushed out the door. Her feet fell on the carpeted floor rushing over to the elevator, where the familiar face of the owl bellhop stood with a scowl on his face. This was it. Her first time outside. She hoped it went well, she would hate to disappoint her mother

part 1/?

part 1 | part 2 | master post

[gianttol]

GT July - Sleepover

……okay i caved ^^” beth n cherry fluff

[buttterknifeee]

Sisters- Teen Titans x Aquagirl Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You don't get along well with your own siblings, but maybe you'll get along well with Starfire's super-cool, definitely-not-evil sister!

Pairings: Platonic! Starfire x reader

Word Count: 3575

A/N: Hey guys!!! Sorry for posting this so late I just did this one a lot slower lol. Unfortunately, school's starting soon so I won't be able to write as often. I'm still working on 2 fics so keep that in mind if you want to request!

Carnivals were the best invention in the world, you decided. The rides, the food, the games, and you only get to enjoy it a few times a year. So when the carnival does come to visit, you always make sure to enjoy it as much as you can.

“Don’t you just lovvvveee carnivals?” You say, walking next to Raven.

“Well, Beast Boy and Cyborg have been trying to win an animal from a single game for the past hour and Robin and Starfire are probably making out on the ferris wheel, so not as much as you.” she says, staring straight ahead. The others had paired up and set off when you first entered the carnival, so that left you with Raven. And as much as you love Raven, you love her in a “meditating/book club” way, not a “fun adventure” way. You approached the two boys as they finally won their carnival game prize.

“Told you we’d win a prize” Beast Boy grinned at Raven, holding a toy chicken to her face.

“A giant chicken. I must be the luckiest girl in the world.” She said sarcastically.

Suddenly, Robin jumped in front of the four of you.

“Titans! Trouble!” He yelled, standing up from a crouching position.

“Where’s Starfire?” Cyborg asked.

“That's the trouble,” Robin said, then promptly took off. The four of you followed him close behind. He brings the four of you to a dock, where you finally see the “trouble” Robin was talking about. Starfire was being chased by a flying, squid-like space robot with tentacles and everything. She flies past the five of you, the flying machine doing the same.

“Who’s her new best friend?” Beast Boy asks, staring at the scene before you.

“Don’t know, but I can’t wait to meet him,” Robin said.

Starfire hid behind you as the flying machine continued to follow her. Beast Boy turned into an alligator and tried to attack the robotic squid, but missed. You tried to hit it with jets of water, but it bounced off of its exterior. Raven threw a hot dog cart at the machine with her telekinesis, but it simply tore straight through the cart. Cyborg grabbed onto the tentacles and strained as the machine tried to get away.

“Don't know what you did to make this thing mad, Star, but it couldn't hurt to apologize!” Cyborg yelled, trying to keep a grip on the tentacles.

“I am… sorry?” Starfire apologizes confusingly, taking shelter behind a grimacing Robin.

Cyborg loses grip on the mysterious space squid as Robin jumps forward. He hits the machine hard with his staff and it falls into the water. A moment of silence falls onto the six of you.

“So, did we just win?” Beast Boy asked.

His answer came in the form of the machine crashing through the floor and back into the sky. Robin jumps onto it.

“Don’t see an OFF switch,” He yells. “Guess I’ll have to make one!” He punches into the side of the machine. The machine goes haywire, and Robin jumps off of it before it flies crazily into the sky and blows up. Since there were already fireworks, any regular citizens could have easily mistaken it for one of the big finals. You turned your attention to Starfire.

“Starfire, are you alright?” you ask. She nodded with a small smile.

“Whatever that thing was, it can’t hurt you now.” Robin said, now next to her again.

Starfire frowned. “But… why did it wish to hurt me at all?”

.

You found yourself back in the tower after such an eventful night. Despite being attacked by some alien machine, Starfire seemed to be in a cheery mood.

“I shall thank you for my rescue by reciting the Poem of Gratitude, all six thousand verses.” She said, a giant smile on her face. You and the others stopped dead in your tracks, not excited for how the rest of the night will seem to go.

“I think ‘thank you’ cuts it,” You say.

Suddenly, you hear a voice. “I see you haven’t changed a bit.” The voice belonged to a girl who bore a striking resemblance to Starfire. She had long, black hair, and wore a black outfit similar to Starfire, except hers had more metal components. The mystery girl continued.

“When we were little, I was always rescuing Starfire.”

“Sister!” Starfire squealed, running to hug her. Starfire’s sister smiled, holding up a necklace with a large green gem as the pendant.

“A Centauri Moon Diamond?? Where did you get-”

“On the Centauri Moons of course.” the sister said, fastening the necklace around Starfire’s neck. “Oh look, it matches your eyes.” Starfire smiled brightly. You remember that you’ve been staring at the two of them interacting when she turns to the five of you.

“I wish to introduce my big sister,” Starfire said. Her sister stepped in front of her.

“Blackfire,” she said. “ And since Star told me all about the Titans in her transmissions, let me guess.” She walks over to Cyborg.

“Cyborg,” She guessed correctly.

“Pleased to meet you little lady,” Cyborg says, holding out his hand. She takes it and you hear the sound of metal bending. Cyborg holds up his hand, now bent out of shape.

“Little lady, big handshake. Well alright!” he says with a smile. Blackfire moves on.

“Raven. I like that gemstone on your Ajna chakra,” Blackfire says.

“You know about chakras?” Raven asked, mildly impressed.

“I got way into meditation on Altara Prime.” She says casually. She then turned to you.

“Aquagirl. Oh my god your outfit is soooo cute! And your hair, how do you get it so healthy?” She said, clasping your hands. Her voice was nothing like Starfire’s; it was much smoother, and more confident, not to mention she had the American accent down.

“Mix of coconut oil, avocado, and a cabinet full of hair ointments” you wink.

“You’ll have to give me tips.” she winked back.

She continued her introductions, finally getting to Robin. She was all over him, complimenting his outfit, calling his mask ‘mysterious’, etc. You saw Starfire steaming with anger, even if she didn’t show it. She intercepted them as Blackfire got close to his face.

“So beloved sister, what brings you to Earth?” Starfire asks, an annoyed grin spread across her face.

“I was in the quadrant. Thought I'd see if Earthlings like to party.” She said, hopping onto the couch. “Besides, I needed a rest. Nearly got sucked into a black hole on the way here.” Immediately, the three boys rushed over to her, the three of you girls still behind them. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the three teens crowding around Blackfire.

“Black hole?”

“No way!”

“Cool”

You could feel Blackfire’s smirk as she began her story.

“Okay. I’m cruising through Draconis Nebula and-”

Starfire interrupted. “Sister! That nebula is full of black holes! You know travel there is forbidden.” The four teens on the couch stared at her.

“Most fun things in life are. Now be a sweetie and bring me one of those sodas I've heard so much about.” Blackfire waved at her and turned back to the boys. You heard her continue the story, but all you could focus on was Starfire grumbling towards the fridge. You look at Raven; your way of saying Ill go after her.

You find Starfire taking a soda can out of the fridge, talking to herself.

“Starfire?” you ask. She flinches at your approach, almost dropping the soda in her hand.

“Oh! Aquagirl. You have caught me off guard, my apologies,” she rubs her neck, blushing.

“You alright? You seemed a little worked up back there,” you say as the teen straightened herself up.

“Oh it's nothing, it's just that…” she sighed, closing the refrigerator. “My sister has always acted in such a way that can cause me to feel… annoyed.”

“Oh well, if you ever want to talk about it, I’m always here.” She hugs you, still holding the can of soda.

“Thank you my friend”

.

The next day, You were sitting in your room. Starfire barged in while you were rubbing the water from your head with your towel.

“Oh hey Starfire! What's up?” you smile, putting the towel onto your bed.

“Aquagirl! Have you seen Blackfire?” she asked. You noticed that she seemed distressed, but decided to answer her question first.

“Oh! We just went surfing! She crushed those waves!” You say, reminiscing. She was surprisingly good at surfing, especially since she told you it was her first time. Starfire frowned.

“Oh. alright.” you frowned back at her answer.

“Well, I think she might be with Robin right now. Is everything alright?” you ask. Her face turns bright red at the mention of Robin’s name.

“N- I mean, yes! Everything is alright. I must go.” She slammed the door before you could say anything. You wanted to go after her, but you figured since she left so quickly, she's probably not in the mood to talk. You went about your day, still a little worried about her.

.

Nighttime fell, and you sat on the couch with the other Titans, relaxing after an uneventful day. Starfire skipped in holding popcorn, candy, and a bunch of CDs.

“Friends! I invite you to join me in the togetherness of a stay-home movie night. I bring you popcorn and non-cotton candies. Tell me, what sort of movie shall we view?”

“Action,” said Robin.

“Romance!” you cheered.

“Comedy.” spat Beast Boy.

“Sci-fi” Cyborg offered.

“Horror.” Raven said flatly. Starfire drops her goodies.

“Perhaps a double feature?” she asked.

“Forget the flicks, kids.” You looked up to see Blackfire, now dressed in Starfire’s clothes. “We’re going out!”

“We are? Where did you- How did you-” Starfire stuttered, obviously confused by her sister’s new look.

“Heard about a party downtown,” Blackfire continued, ignoring her sister. “Cool crowd, hot music”

“Sound’s nice!” you say.

“Yeah!” Beast Boy agrees.

“I’m in!” Cyborg says.

“Why not?” Robin smiles. Raven kept looking at her book.

“And it's in an abandoned warehouse,” Blackfire adds. Raven looked up from her book, her way of saying that she's in. You all began to leave. You noticed Starfire still standing where she was, looking a bit sadder.

“Starfire? you coming?” you asked, walking by her.

“Oh um, I guess I will go,” she said, hanging her head a bit. You looked at her but she didn’t meet your eyes. Maybe she’s tired, you thought, walking to catch up with the other titans.

.

You entered the party, taking in the colorful lights and dancing teens. You followed Blackfire onto the dance floor, who seemed to already be dancing.

“Step aside Earthlings, the queen of the galaxy has arrived!” she cheered, swaying her hips with the other teens. She looks at the rest of you, a smirk on her face.

“Now don't tell me you big tough superheroes are afraid of a little dancing.” she says, beckoning you to do so. The boys joined in, and you noticed that Raven left the dance floor with a boy. The only people who weren’t dancing were you and Starfire. Starfire looked scared, she was clutching her new necklace, and you swore that she said something about shovels. You came up to her and took her hand.

“Let’s go Starfire, I think you need some air.” you say, leading her to the stairwell.

You sat next to her on the roof, both awkwardly silent.

“So, what's wrong?” you finally say.

“It’s my sister again,” she sighs. “It feels as though she has stolen you all from me, and I don’t know how to keep that from happening.”

“Hey. we’ll always be your friends, just as you’ll be ours. And she didn’t steal us from you, we just thought she was cool and all-” you were cut off by a yell from the part below.

“YO A.G.!!! YOU GOTTA COME DOWN HERE!!!” Cyborg yelled. You looked at the direction of the sound and then back at Starfire, who was staring at the ground.

“Oh- uh they probably need me, I’ll be right back,” You say, rubbing her arm. “HANG ON I'LL BE THERE IN A SEC!”

You race down to the dance floor and see Cyborg dancing.

“YO THEY’RE TOTALLY PLAYING YOUR SONG!” he yelled. Ugh I should get back to Starfire but they are totally playing my song, you thought. You look at Cyborg again, who was waving at you to join him. You see Robin next to you and pull him aside.

“Hey Aquagirl! Where’s Starfire?” He asked. You cross your arms.

“She’s upstairs on the roof. Listen, she’s super down in the dumps right now, I think you should talk to her.” You say. He nods and leaves, heading towards the stairs. You sigh as you go back to join your other friends. You bump into Blackfire, who was now sporting a neon pink wig.

“Um, nice wig,” you say.

“Thanks hot stuff. Where’s Robin? I saw you with him earlier.” She asked, still dancing. You weren’t sure if it was the best idea to tell her.

“He’s uhhhhhhh….” you try to stall.

“... with Starfire.” she finishes. You turn to see her staring through the glass roof, where you could see Robin and Starfire sitting together. She turns to the rest of you.

“One sec guys!” She winks. Less than a minute goes by and she reappears with Robin. You make eye contact; he seemed annoyed by being back here.

“We HAVE to dance to this song!” she says, starting to dance again next to Robin. He steps away from her.

“Sorry, but I’m going to check on Starfire again.” Robin says, heading to the stairwell again. Blackfire follows him, trying to get him to return, leaving you with Cyborg and Beast Boy. They continue to dance and you roll your eyes.

Suddenly, you notice Starfire fighting something. You squint at her location, then realize that what she's attacking is one of the robots from yesterday. You look at the two boys who’ve quite literally been dancing the whole time.

“Cyborg! Beast Boy! Starfire’s in trouble!” You yell, already running towards the exit. Suddenly, another of those robots appears out of nowhere.

“What the- AHHHHH!!!!” you scream as the robot latches onto you and drags you away. The two boys try to follow you but a third robot attacks them, leaving you to still be stuck in the clutches of the space robot. You see Raven hanging out with the boy from earlier (they’d be a cute couple huh) and she spots you. She flies after you, flinging two robots towards the machine as you finally break free. Starfire crashes into the room through the ceiling and lands in the crates, Cyborg and Beast Boy still taking on the other robot.

All three of the robots start chasing Starfire, and she flies around the room trying to lose them. Cyborg knocks into them and lays some punches, you trying to short circuit them by spraying them with water. One of the robots hits Cyborg, sending him flying into a wall. Another one sends Starfire flying into a different wall, and she lands in a dumpster. You run to the hole in the wall to find the aliens trying to bring the whole dumpster into the air. You were about to try to strike them when you saw a flash- the flash of a birdarang. It cuts into the arms of the robot and drops the container. Robin joins the rest of you.

“Titans Go!” Robin yells, but Blackfire flies out in front of you. In a matter of seconds she demolished all three robots. You all surrounded her as she stood victoriously.

“Aw yeah! Good times!”

“Nice shot, Tex!”

“Very nice.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!”

“How did you know where to hit them?” Robin asked.

“Lucky guess,” Blackfire shrugged. Cyborg stepped forward.

“We could use luck like that,” he said. “Maybe you oughta join the team.”

“Me? A teen titan?” Blackfire asked, obviously flattered. You couldn’t help but notice Starfire looking away, a defeated look on her face. I should talk to her again, you decided.

.

You and Robin found Starfire standing on the roof of the Titans Tower. You found out that you both had the idea of finishing up your conversations, but it seemed that Starfire had different plans. You reach her as she floats into the air.

“Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?” Robin asked, causing her to whip around to face the two of you.

“A little rude if you ask me,” you tried to joke, but she didn’t laugh. Her head hanging, she slowly landed back on the roof, taking off the backpack she was wearing.

“Aquagirl, Robin, I- '' She began, but was cut off by the sound of a spaceship coming towards you. One of the aliens on board unleashes its arm, which is a tentacle much like one of the robot’s, and slashes you and Robin, sending you both to the ground. It then wraps around Starfire, pulling her into the ship.

Robin runs towards the screaming Starfire and jumps from the roof and towards the ship. You watch in horror as he misses, and begins the fall towards the ground. The ship continues its ascent into the air.

“ROBIN!” you scream, running towards the edge of the Tower’s roof. You can do this, you can do this, you can-

You focused hard, and raised your arms above you. A geyser of water shoots up from the shore and catches Robin. You raised the geyser up towards the hull of the spaceship, allowing the Boy Wonder to grab onto the bottom and make his way up. Seeing that he made it safely on board, you dropped the geyser of water.

You fell to your knees, breathing heavily. You haven’t made such a strong geyser in, well, never! Your vision was blurring as Beast Boy, Cyborg, and Raven all rushed onto the roof.

“Aquagirl! What happened?” Cyborg asked, helping you up.

“Starfire… Spaceship… Robin… I helped…” you huffed, pointing towards the spaceship, which was now far away from the tower.

“We gotta catch up to them. But how?” Beast Boy said, staring at the silhouette in the distance.

“Follow my lead.” Raven said, grabbing on to Beast Boy and Cyborg, who was holding into you. You watched as she made a dark portal in front of you. She pulled the three of you through it and you found yourself in the outskirts of the city, next to mountains and a river. You see Starfire and Robin up ahead, in front of a now toppled over spaceship.

“Starfire! Robin!” Beast Boy yelled as you caught up to them.

“Are you alright?” Cyborg asked. Suddenly, you see two aliens emerge from the shipwreck.

“Titans! Get ready!” he said, assuming a fighting stance, which you follow. You wait tensely as the aliens approach you.

“In the name of the Grand Centauri Empire, you are all under arrest.” one of the aliens says, showing off a professional looking police badge. You stare at it. If they're police, why are they arresting us? And why are we fighting them?

“Uh… you can’t be the good guys. We’re the good guys.” Beast Boy says, just as confused as you are.

“And we are the Centauri Police,” the second alien repeats.

“The Tamaranean girl is a liar and a thief.” the first police alien says, pointing at Starfire. “She's committed high crimes throughout the entire Centauri system.”

“I have never even been to the Centauri moons!” Starfire pleaded.

Suddenly everything clicked. The necklace, the events at the carnival, the events at the party. All evidence seemed to have pointed to Starfire, but they actually pointed at another person.

“But I know someone who has.” you and Robin say at the same time. You look at each other, obviously aware of who the other was thinking.

Blackfire.

.

Robin took off Starfire’s necklace for her and threw it aside. He faced the police aliens.

“You’ve been chasing the wrong girl. Where’s Blackfire?” Robin says. Before any of the other Titans could answer, you saw a figure flying through the sky.

“That Bitch!” you yelled, watching Blackfire make an escape.

“Don’t worry Star, she won't get away with this,” Robin says to Starfire, but her eyes are already glowing.

“No she will not!” she yells, and shoots off into the sky. You couldn’t see much, but there were flashes of bright green and purple in the sky. The Centauri police calmly rebalanced their ship and restarted it, its engine humming to life.

You then watched as they proceeded to fly up into the sky and capture Blackfire, similar to how they initially captured Starfire, and fly off into the night. You stared dumbfounded.

"What just happened?"

.

The next morning, you stood in front of the kitchen, making pancakes with Cyborg.

“Crazy what happened last night, huh?” you yawned, watching the pancakes sizzle on the stove.

“No kidding,” he said. “She would’ve made a great addition to the team, except for the intergalactic-criminal part.” You laughed, flipping the rest of the pancakes.

You climbed up to the roof, finding Robin and Starfire sitting together. God they’re probably being cheesy together you thought. You cleared your throat, the two of them jumping at your presence.

“Hey you two,” you winked. “Breakfast is ready!!!”

[honeymilque]

Hey guys!

I know it’s been a HOT minute since I posted here so I just wanna apologize for being gone so long but hopefully I’ll get back into it soon! :) 

     SOooo I’ve been having a rough time lmao the first year of the pandemic I grew distant with some good friends of mine. Which I mean ,it happens, friends come and go but that doesn’t mean it hurts any less. I have no ill feelings towards them. I still love them dearly and I hope they are thriving!! Anyways, this is kinda what started my downward spiral. I didn’t have anyone to talk to. Maybe a short interaction every now and then. I also had my dad and step-mom on my ass about going back to college. So in short I felt like a failure for not being in college, and completely alone. Those feelings continued to get worse over the course of 2020-2021. At some point during that time I started to gain quite a few followers here as well as on twitter. I don’t think I ever hit 500 but it was still a lot to me. With the sudden gain of followers, I began to look at my art differently. Suddenly it wasn’t for fun, it was for my followers. My mindset was “If I don’t draw something they like everyone will hate me for not being able to create the content they enjoy” When my art didn’t do as well, it would tear me apart. I felt like I was failing my followers. I began to HATE my art. I completely stopped drawing except for maybe once or twice a year. Art wasn’t fun and I couldn’t think of anything to draw. 

     Aside from my art issues, I had a lot more going on. Early 2021 I met a guy and we hit it off instantly. We spent every second with each other. He helped me a lot during 2021. My manager had quit mid year and the place I work at couldn’t find a manager for months. Since I had open availability and I was a lead key, they threw everything on me. I was beyond stressed, but I always had him to talk to. It was nice having someone to talk to all day. I began to feel happy and loved again. Mid July we had started dating and everything was wonderful. Life got a whole lot brighter, but unfortunately for a very short time. He started to not talk or hang out with me a lot. By the end of September he broke up with me. He was going through a lot and so was I. I didn’t take this well. The slightest bit of sunshine I had left was just ripped from my hands. Once again, I was alone. I won’t lie, it got very dark. I would barely eat or drink and showering was too much work. I was going through a break up, running a store, and I kept buying random stuff to get me that small amount of dopamine I needed to survive. I was living paycheck to paycheck.

     Now since I don’t want to write this anymore lol let’s skip to now! I finally got diagnosed with depression about a month ago, and I’ve been on antidepressants since! Just this week, I’ve started feeling better. I’m finding myself enjoying things again! I’ve started drawing again. I realized that my art doesn’t have to mean anything. It can just be a random doodle of a pretty anime boy standing and that’s okay!! I’m still struggling with enjoying my art BUT I know if I keep trying that my art will eventually be where I want it! We finally got a new manager at work, so I’m not stressed anymore :) Money is still tight since I’m still recovering from my depression purchases and rent went up but it’s a good! I know I can get the money back and I’m not buying as much stuff anymore (except for delivering food...I have spent so much on doordash lmao)

If you read all of this, thank you for listening :) If you didn’t thats okay, I don’t read long posts either lmao

TLDR; Depression sucks but I’m all better now. :) Hope to be posting art again soon!! ♥

[essenceofarda]

The Daily Life of Hobbits: Ch1 (preview snippet)

As referenced in this post, I have always wanted to write a slice of life account of daily hobbit life. Each chapter would be from a different (though sometimes repeating) POV’s, and different aspects of hobbit culture/history/etc. 

here’s a snippet of chapter 1 :) (please note I’ve only just started writing this and the date *will* probably change, that was just a random date I chose and I’ll probably be adjusting it to fit canon more accurately!)

~~

Chapter 1: In which a Murder is Overlooked (and indeed, secretly thanked for)

August 30, 1401 of the Shire Reckoning

Pearl Took was, by all accounts, beautiful. If you asked her she was the most beautiful of all her siblings (although her younger brother Peregrin would often argue he was the best ‘looking’ in the family, though she daresay he only said this to annoy her). With her witty charm, dashing looks, and the admiration of all young hobbits, male or female, Pearl knew she had little competition. 

At the age of 26, she was not quite old enough to be introduced to Society, but she was well known, as the eldest daughter of Paladin Took and Eglantine Banks. 

And so, when she found herself, one summer, as the attendant of Old Lalia Took, a sourly and rather ill tempered matriarch of the Took family, Pearl was quite put out.

It was on one such summer’s morning, just a few weeks into her new duties as Old Lalia’s caretaker, that she stood, morosely, in front of the mirror in the hall that adjoined her bedroom to her siblings.

“Oh Pearl!” sang Pimpernel, one of Pearl’s two younger sisters. “Guess what I’ll be doing today?”

Pearl pursed her lips. 

Pimpernel and Pervinca were being taken by their mother to be fitted for new dresses—an event that Pearl felt rather unfair, since she would be needed to attend to Old Lalia the Fat all day. 

“I couldn’t guess even if you spent all week telling me,” Pearl replied hotly, grabbing a bonnet and donning it.

“Mother is taking Pervinca and I to get new dresses. Isn’t that grand? Dresses! Oh! I do hope that they’ll be ready in time for the party.”

At this, Pearl’s curiosity got the better of her.

“The party?” she asked, glancing at her sister through the reflection of the mirror. 

“Old Bilbo’s Birthday Party,” Pimpernel whispered excitedly, seeming to, in her own curiosity and interest, forget her intention of taunting her elder sister. “After all, what else would all those deliveries be for?”

Pearl thought about this—it was true, Old Bilbo Baggins had caused quite a sensation the last couple months. For packages upon packages had been arriving to his door at Bag End—enough that some hobbit speculated that he would have to move out of the expansive Bag End by the end of the year if this continued. Some of his packages were even delivered by dwarves! Which left much to be imagined about what could be inside said packages.

“What of it?” Pearl asked, her nerves prickling with excitement despite her previous annoyance at her sister’s taunting. “Are you saying it’s for his birthday?”

The idea sent a thrill through her. Old Bilbo Baggins was as eccentric as he was rich—which was to say, very eccentric. And any birthday party of his is surely to be grand (with equally as grand presents to be handed out, as well).

“What else could it for?” Pimpernel giggled. “His birthday is at the end of next month—Mr. Frodo’s too, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Pearl had.

“Mother says,” Pimpernel added, looking around as if someone could overhear them in this corridor inside their own home. “That the postmaster’s assistant told his wife, who told Miss Rose Banks, who told Auntie, who told Mother…”

“Yes?” Pearl asked, her annoyance returning.

“That invitations will be sent out soon,” Pimpernel said. “Very soon. In fact, the Postmaster’s office is practically swimming in them!”

“Oh?” Pearl was intrigued. Invitations? Well, of course her family would be invited. They were Tooks after all. And…she was old enough that she might even get her own invitation. “How grand,” Pearl murmured, returning her gaze to the mirror and adjusting her bonnet a little righteously. 

“How wonderful that Pervinca and I will have new dresses to wear to the party,” Pimpernel said, sighing dreamily, all the while eyeing her sister with absolute glee. 

Pearl pursed her lips again. “How wonderful,” she agreed reluctantly.

“I’m thinking of getting a dress with…perhaps some…pearls adorned on it,” Pimpernel added. “You know, so that you can be there in spirit.”

Pearl looked at her sister in surprise. “I’m older than you, I may very well receive an invitation of my own,” she snapped, suddenly tired of Pimpernel’s teasing.

Pimpernel gave Pearl a simpering smile,  and said, with unbridled enjoyment, “Oh? But Mother said that Auntie said, that Miss Rose Banks said, that the Postmaster’s assistant’s wife said, that the postmaster assistant said—”

“Just get on with it,” Pearl interjected.

“There may be a limited amount of invitations,” Pimpernel whispered.

“Well, no matter,” Pearl said. “We’ll be invited, that’s no doubt. Mr. Bilbo Baggins and we are related, after all,” she added for good measure.

“But will Old Lalia the Great be invited?” Pimpernel asked. “And if not, who do you think will have to care for her ailing joints while the rest of us enjoy the party?”

Pearl felt her face pale slightly at this. For once, her sister had a good point. Old Lalia most likely wouldn’t get an invitation, and even if she did, she most likely wouldn’t want to go. And Pearl rarely got time off—in fact, starting next week, she was likely to have to go live with the old bat.

She turned to glare at her reflection. “Well,” she said, barely holding back her anger. “Thank you for informing me about all of this, Pimpernel. How very consciousness of you.”

“You’re most welcome,” Pimpernel beamed, before turning and skipping away, and Pearl threw an insulting gesture at her sister’s retreating form.

She turned back to face her reflection. “Won’t be going to the party?” she asked herself. “We’ll see about that.”

~~

There you go! A sneak peek at what I’ve always wanted to write and I figure there’s no better time than now to start lol. Anyway, let me know if this is the kind of fic y’all *might* be interested in reading?? I’m not sure anyone other than myself would be into a slice of life hobbit fic buut figured i ask :)

[orangecrane]

Hey there Orange I saw your requests are open and I was wondering if you could possibly write something angsty with sprace? Happy ending or not! Your choice! I’m just depressed and I need more sprace content. Thanks!

no fault of mine

When what's supposed to be a happy day ends up being a terrible mess, Albert's left to pick up the pieces. But not everything is quite as it seems. (In which if people actually communicated a lot of pain could have been prevented. Maybe).

A/N: Thanks for the request, I hope it was what you wanted! If not just let me know. This got away from me a bit lol, I didn’t mean for it to get this long. Also, would anyone like a second part/follow up to this? I have a few ideas where I could take it but this was long enough as is and I was anxious to post it.

CW: Mild swearing, Illness (Fever)

“Damn Race, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

Race absolutely lit up. He’d already been unreasonably upbeat all day, from having a huge smile plastered across his face from the moment he woke up to practically skipping to distribution. He’d also been unusually giggly and had been draping himself all over Albert with a level of drama that was usually reserved for special occasions.

“Oh don’t get him started,” Albert groaned, “he’s been talkin’ my ear off about his date with Spot for the past two weeks.”

“Ain’t you two been on dates before,” Finch directed at Race, “what’s so special about this one?”

“Yeah, but today is exactly one year after our first date! Spot’s got a big surprise planned an’ I can’t wait,” Race was practically vibrating. “We’s gonna meet by the bridge after selling today, it’s why I’m staying in Manhattan with Al today to sell.”

“Well, good luck wit’ that Race,” Finch smiled. “And Albert, I hope you still have ears by the time you get home.”

The smugness practically radiated off of Finch. Albert grumbled and rolled his eyes at his teasing tone. “Wouldn’t bet on it…”

---

Race had just sold his last pape and was on his way to meet Spot. He was most certainly not barely restraining himself from running all the way to the bridge. Besides, if he did that then he’d only be early and have nothing to do but wait around for Spot to show up. So Race walked, at a perfectly normal walking speed, the rest of the way to the place they were supposed to meet.

He still arrived about fifteen minutes early, but that wasn’t a big deal. He could just pace around a bit and daydream about what they were going to do once Spot got here.

Race dreamed of walks in the park, of admiring the very last of the autumn leaves before winter well and truly came. Of holding hands to keep warm in the chilly night air and stealing kisses in the shadows. Of sharing a proper meal, the kind lowly newsboys never got to eat. Race dreamed of Spot.

He kept daydreaming until a passerby accidentally bumped into him.

Huh… that was odd. He had been lost in his own head for so long that he hadn’t noticed nearly half an hour slip by. That in it of itself wasn’t weird, Race was easily distracted and had a vivid imagination. But that meant Spot was fifteen minutes late.

Spot was almost never late. In fact, he often prided himself on his punctuality. Race was the one who got sidetracked or miscalculated how long it took to get somewhere or just plain forgot.

He must’ve gotten wrapped up in something with his boys. Oh well, Race had made him wait enough times to be forgiving about it this once. Even if it was a special day.

So Race resumed his fantasizing. Warmth and sweet words and Spot.

But that only lasted so long. Because fairly soon, Spot was half an hour late. Now Race was beginning to worry. What was keeping him? Did Race have the wrong place?

Another thirty minutes passed. Spot was officially an hour late. Race didn’t think Spot had been that late to anything in his life.

Another hour. Race was panicking. Did Spot forget?

No, Race was certain he wouldn’t, couldn’t when they had spoken about it just yesterday. Race had tried to get Spot to tell him about their plans but Spot was ever tight-lipped.

Was he hurt? Spot was strong but it wasn’t impossible.

Did something happen to one of the Brooklyn kids? But if he had known he wouldn’t be able to make it, wouldn’t Spot have sent a runner?

Another hour. What if Spot wasn’t coming? The sun was setting and Race was still waiting.

Another hour. Spot wasn’t coming. It was dark and Race was cold. He wanted nothing more to curl up into a ball and cry. Spot wasn’t coming, he’d left Race waiting for hours on their anniversary. Race felt sick to his stomach thinking of how excited he was only a couple hours ago, how he spent all day looking forward to this, weeks of- of hope and excitement and love. And this is what he got for it.

But maybe.

Another half hour. Race went home, tears blurring his vision.

He couldn’t feel his fingers or his toes by the time he arrived at the lodging house. A few of the older boys who were still up tried to ask him how it went. He ignored them. Stormed up the stairs and into the bunk room, to find Albert waiting up for him.

“Racer, how’d it-”

He cut himself off upon spotting the tear tracks on his best friends face.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” Race tore his boots off and climbed into his bunk. Glad that at least his best friend knew when not to push him. He’d have to talk with Albert about what happened in the morning, but for tonight he could wallow. And wallow he did. The moment he allowed himself to think of Spot and the disaster that was tonight, hot salty tears streamed down his face. It felt almost like they were burning him. Race just laid there, mulling over everything that happened and how hurt he was until his head was pounding and the tears stopped. Only then did his mind quiet and he fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

---

Race awoke to the piercing shriek of the morning bell. He groaned, yanking his pillow over his head and trying to block out the sounds of the boys getting ready. That, on top of the fact that he was so hot he was sweating, made him dread the coming day. He threw his thin blanket off of him in an attempt to cool down. He’s nearly back asleep when something clangs the bed frame near his head.

“Whadda fuck?” Race’s head was still ringing and getting up to sell was the last thing he wanted to do today.

“Up and at em, sleepyhead,” Albert proclaimed. Race groaned, he was so tired. “Oh man, you look like shit dude.”

Race cracked his eyes open just enough to glare at his best friend. “I feel like it too, now lee’me alone.” Race’s voice was so scratchy that it even surprised him.

“Maybe you shouldn’t sell today Racer,” Al sounded worried. He reached over to put his hand against Race’s forehead, but he batted his hand away and whined. Al frowned with concern.

Race was going to object, he really was, but his head was pounding, his throat hurt, and he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. He ended up grunting and turning over to go back to sleep.

“Hey Jack! Racer ain’t lookin’ too good-” Albert’s voice faded into the background.

Race slept fitfully for a few hours, always too hot or too cold and in too much pain to really sleep. He wanted Spot. Spot always knew how to make him feel better, where was Spot?

Maybe he could ask some of the other guys, he could hear their voices but struggled to make out what they were saying.

“really warm”

“out in the cold”

The voices were too distant for him to recognize so he couldn’t understand what was going on. Wasn’t he supposed to be meeting Spot, was he going to be late? Race tried to push through the fog in his mind but only succeeded in confusing himself more. Why was it so warm, wasn’t it autumn?

“bad condition”

“crying- Spot” That was definitely Albert’s voice.

Race whined, tears of frustration stinging his eyes. He was tired and confused and just generally feeling pretty awful and he wanted either Spot or Albert to come make it better. Having them around always made it better.

Fortunately, someone noticed he was awake and shortly after he had his favorite red-head by his side. Race sat up and grabbed at Albert’s arm, looking somewhere between lost and scared. “Albie…”

“Heya Racer,” Albert began, real gentle, “how’re you feelin’ bud?”

Race just whined and buried his head into Al’s shoulder. Even the idea of talking hurt.

“Yeah, I can imagine, Specs n’ Daves say you’re runnin’ an awful fever. It musta been from being out in the cold last night.”

Race’s head was swimming and he had a hard time focusing on what Al was saying, but he thought he got the gist of it. Wait… “Spo-”

He was quickly quieted by Albert handing him a glass of water and gesturing for him to drink. Where did he get that? He certainly didn’t have it when he climbed up to Race’s bunk. Race drank the water in small sips, with Albert watching, until he finished the glass. Al took it from his hands and handed it to someone standing at the side of the bed. Oh, so that’s how he got it. Race was so, so tired.

Just as he was drifting off, leaning entirely against his friend, he jolted. “Spot- I’m supposed to meet Spot,” Race barely managed to slur out. Albert shared a look with the other boys who Race still couldn’t be bothered to identify.

“He’s not-” The mystery voice was cut off by a swift kick from Al.

“I… I need to meet Spot, where is he? I wanna see Spot!”

“Race why don’t you lie down,” Albert tried to gently push him back down.

“No,” Race said indignantly, deliriously. “Spot!” he called out, half expecting him to be just out of sight, like Albert had been. Why wasn’t Spot coming? He was always there for Race, Spot wouldn’t leave him like this.

Finally, Albert grabbed his hand. Through gritted teeth he said, “Spot’ll be here soon, he just had some business to deal with in Brooklyn, why don’t you get some rest in the meantime so you’ll have some energy when he gets here?”

Oh. That made sense. Race nodded agreeably and allowed himself to be pulled down to rest his head in Albert’s lap. He was tempted to try and stay awake anyway but he was exhausted and Al’s hand in his hair felt really nice, so he surrendered himself to sleep once more.

Though, this caused him to completely miss the discussion that followed.

“Spot’s not coming, we haven’t spoken to him at all, why would you say that?”

Albert rolled his eyes, he liked the guy plenty. but sometimes Davey just didn’t get it. “He was completely out of it, we needed him to calm down and he wasn’t gonna do that without Spot bein’ here so I did the next best thing. Besides, he probably won’t even remember this when he wakes up.”

“Well… maybe we should go talk to Spot and see if he can check on Race.” Albert was hesitant to do that. If only because of what he had seen last night.

“Evening distribution starts soon, you’ll miss it completely if you go to Brooklyn, and I have to stay here with the dumbass who went and got himself sick.”

“Tomorrow, then?” Davey insisted. And, well, Albert certainly had a few things to say to Spot given Race’s expression when he got home last night, so it really didn’t take much convincing.

“Yeah, I’ll head over tomorrow and get Jack to watch Racer while I’m gone if he isn’t any better.” Davey looked pleased at that, he still wasn’t fond of lying but he understood the utility of it. He really was worried about Race, and if Race wanted Spot then he wasn’t sure why Albert needed any convincing at all, but then again maybe he was missing something. He tended to miss social things like this.

Davey was ripped from his musings by Albert, staring down at him from Race’s bunk, “You better get moving or you’ll miss distribution.”

“Oh yeah! I’ll see you around Albert.”

“You too, Daves,” Albert nodded to Davey as he exited the bunk room.

---

The next day saw almost no improvement. Race was still running a fever high enough to be seriously disoriented and was continually asking for Spot. And Albert, once he left.

So Albert was on his way to Brooklyn to ask Spot Conlon just what the fuck he thought he was doing to Albert’s best friend. He wasn’t one-hundred percent certain what happened, but he’d spent enough of the last day listening to Race’s whining and rambling to piece together that Spot hadn’t shown up and Race had been left waiting for him for hours. He was also tempted to blame Race’s sudden sickness on him too, if only because he was frustrated and angry on his friend’s behalf and didn’t have anywhere else to direct those emotions. And maybe Race wouldn’t be sick at all if he hadn’t been out there in the cold waiting for some bastard who wasn’t coming.

Once he reached the Brooklyn lodgings he knocked twice loudly and stood there, arms crossed and clearly displeased. It was Digs who opened the door, normally Albert thought she was pretty cool but he was in no mood to be friendly.

“What are you doing here?”

“Where’s Spot?” She looked a little taken aback by his tone, and narrowed her eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“I need to have some words with him.”

Digs observed him warily, “I have to talk to Hotshot, wait in the common room and don’t touch anything. She allowed him inside and disappeared up the stairs. It was about two minutes before she returned, Brooklyn’s second in tow.

“Get outta here ‘hattan.”

“Not until I give Spot a piece of my mind.”

“Spot isn’t taking visitors right now, leave,” Hotshot ordered. Albert was pissed but wasn’t willing to risk a serious conflict between boroughs, for now at least.

“Got any idea when the all mighty King o’ Brooklyn will deign to see me then?”

“No, now leave before we make you.” Digs was standing silently by Hotshot’s side, she hadn’t said anything since returning but was obviously willing to back her second’s orders.

Albert glared at the other newsies, and made his way to the door. He paused before exiting. “Hey, Spot!”

His voice echoed throughout the old building.

“He waited for you, you know,” Albert spat out before storming out of the Brooklyn lodging house and going back to Manhattan to look after his best friend. Someone had to, and he clearly wasn’t going to be able to get through to Spot.

---

Race woke up around noon on the third day feeling much better. He was still kind of dehydrated and groggy, but it seemed his fever had broken. He dragged himself out of bed, careful not to lose his balance on the way down, and slowly changed into a cleaner set of clothes and grabbed himself a glass of water.

Once he finished his first glass and went to fill it up again he was interrupted by someone else entering the room.

Albert looked surprised. “It’s good to see you on your feet, Racer. You feelin’ better?”

Race downed half his glass before answering. “Yeah,” he said, voice still raspy.

Albert smiled, then gently grabbed the glass from his hands and topped it back up. “”M glad, but Specs’d kill me if he found out I was lettin’ you overexert yourself when I was supposed to be lookin’ after you. And before you start poutin’, I’ll sit with you, Jack n’ some of the other boys have been pitching in to cover us so I can stay and babysit you.”

Race started pouting anyways. “I don’t need no babysittin’!” Race frowned, “An’ I don’t like the idea o’ the other boys needing to pay for us, especially when I was the only one who couldn’t sell.”

Albert snorted. “Too bad you big baby, you were outta commission and someone had to look after ya sorry ass.” Albert nudged him back towards the stairs. “Now c’mon, we got some stuff we need to talk about.”

Race followed him back up the stairs and to the bunk room, admittedly confused. He hadn’t been out of it that long, what could he have missed?

Albert took a seat on his own bed and gestured for Race to sit with him. Once he did Al handed him the glass back. Race took a few small sips. “So what did you wanna talk about?”

“Well the night before you got sick you were kinda a mess,” Albert began, “and then you had a nasty fever and seemed pretty upset about what happened. I think I got the basics but you were pretty incoherent…”

Oh yeah, that. Even the mention of that night made Race’s throat tighten. His hands started shaking slightly and Al once again removed the cup from his grasp.

Race sucked in a shuddering breath. “So uhh… basically? Spot never showed up, I waited for hours and- and I just kept thinking ‘Maybe he’ll be here in a few minutes and if I leave I’ll miss him’” Race trailed off.

“I only left once it was too cold and it was clear that… that Spot had either forgotten about me, didn’t care, or something bad had happened to him.” Race sniffled.

Albert looked kind of heartbroken on his behalf. He wrapped an arm around him and pulled Race into his side. “I went to go talk to Spot yesterday,” Albert admitted.

“You what?” Race turned to face his friend.

“I knew something had happened between you two and you kept asking after him.” Race flushed with embarrassment. “I wanted to find out for sure what happened, maybe give him a piece of my mind, and see if he could come see you. Figured he’d want to know you were sick, why wouldn’t he? Anyways, he wouldn’t speak to me at all and some of his newsies wouldn’t even let me see him.”

Race looked down and balled his fists in his pants. So Spot had really just stood him up and then refused to even talk to his best friend. They’d been together a year and Race thought he knew him, though with how things were looking, maybe not. He fully curled into Albert’s side. He didn’t want to think about Spot anymore, he just wanted to fall asleep to the sound of someone who actually cared about him breathing.

---

Four days after the anniversary Race was back on his feet, well enough to sell, and hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Spot. He spent the day in Manhattan on Jack’s orders. Couldn’t risk something happening to him too far away from home.

However, the day after he was allowed to return to Sheepshead once again. He was sort of expecting to run into Spot. After everything and Race not selling for a few days he thought that Spot would at least care enough to come talk to him. Then again he thought Spot wouldn’t ditch him like he did, so maybe it was a problem with Race’s judgement. Race just sold and went home, not feeling up to betting or waiting around for Spot. Again.

The pattern continued like this for a few days, Race would show up to sell, maybe chat with any Brooklyn newsies he came across, then leave. Whenever he tried to ask about Spot they just deflected. It was really starting to get on Race’s nerves.

If Spot wanted to break up with him why couldn’t he say it to Race’s face instead of hiding away like a coward. Everyday he waited for Spot to make the first move, Race wasn’t the one in the wrong here! And everyday he heard nothing.

Well Race was sick of waiting around for stupid Spot.

---

“Race? What are you doin’ here?”

“‘M here to see Spot.” Well, more specifically he was there to chew Spot out and possibly end their relationship if he didn’t have a damn good explanation for his recent behavior. He loved Spot, he really did but Race was not going to allow himself to be treated like this. He deserved better than someone who hurt him like this. But he wasn't gonna dump all that on a kid, especially one who could stop him from doing so.

The kid, Flicker, hesitated. “Spot’s not seeing anybody right now.”

“Well can’t I be an exception?”

“I’m really not supposed to…”

Flicker seemed very conflicted. Race didn’t want to use the kid but… he knew Flicker kind of looked up to him. It wouldn’t be too hard to persuade him to let him in.

“Please Flicks?” Using that nickname was dirty, but Race was at the end of his rope. Hopefully Flicker wouldn’t hold it against him.

His expression was downright pained. “I-”

Race gave him his most pleading look. “Listen, this is really important to me, I have to see Spot. You can trust me, can’t you?”

Flicker finally gave in. He glanced around nervously before quietly and quickly saying, “Spot’s in the refuge. Has been for a little over a week. We’s not supposed to say nothin’ bout it to anyone though.”

[dear-yandere]

—ask collection!

a collection of mostly very old chats and sweet asks that i never got around to answering! thanks for the patience and love!! 

beware, fairly long post... woops....

chat asks.

darling: Eu-jin is best boy. Change my mind.

vanya: i am physically incapable of fulfilling that request, how dare you do that to me... i’m biased since he’s my own oc, but i would die for my (very best) boy eu-jin... who can resist such a gentle yandere that loves you so whole-heartedly?

that reminds me! he’s actually based off of kuroyuki and gekkamaru from the otome nightshade, so if you want similar characters by any chance, do check them and the game out ♡

darling: I was watching the dub for Part 5 of JoJo's Bizarre adventure yesterday...Mista called himself Daddy and I like- sdfghjfgsdhnhnmj!! My heart can't take this--

vanya: WAIT HE DID???? i’m not even big on daddy kink and reading that made me go 😳 this is vital information to know... what episode was this??? for research purposes, of course. gotta perfect my yan! mista, after all~...

darling: for yandere songs, have you heard of the major to minor covers by chase holfelder :O? the way he delivers the lyrics in some songs (betty, all i want for christmas), added with the key changes to minor, is really fantastic, and gives a stalker-ish vibe imo! and he's a really good singer in general

vanya: i have!! a good chunk of them are actually on my personal yandere playlist, so i end up hearing them frequently when i’m writing!! i haven’t been keeping up with his uploads recently, so ‘betty’ is completely new to me and just, wow???????????? this man is an absolute god send for us “romantic” horror fans... ♡

this ask gave me such a lovely idea, though, darling: assigning yandere types/mbti based off each of chase’s minor key covers. i think i’ll do that just for you. ♡

darling @blossomiich​: I reread some of your old character interaction asks and saw the one with Jotaro hugging his Darling after a panic attack and the elephant seal plush reminded me of the iconic C H O N K Y ringed seal plushie that was kinda trending and I can totally imagine Jotaro having one of those >w< that's so adorable!

vanya: i honestly don’t remember that interaction, but then again i don’t remember most things hmghng so i looked it up and

j...just imagine star plat hogging it and not letting joot cuddle with it 🥺 the duality of man...thank you for this cute image...

darling: Umm, sorry for asking this. I'm just curious because of your bio language in your header. Are you Chinese too, perhaps?

vanya: no worries!! i’m mixed guyanese (indian, chinese, & possibly black and/or portuguese), but my family only celebrates (or rather, acknowledges?) our indian descent, since the majority of our family is predominantly east indian. 

my header is actually a quote from a danmei novel (and one of my all-time favorite fandoms), tiān guān cì fú (heaven’s official blessing)!

darling genki stan anon: Omg you're writing for free now, i didn't expect that one lol. It's a cute show innit? Not a nagi stan but I feel like nagisa has that kinda unsnapped personality that would make him peak delusional yandere material lolol like oikawa but less threatening and without his head being up his own ass 😂. Hope you're doing well!! -gsa

Gdjsjs im such a fool, i think my last ask said something about not thinking you'd write for free when i literally just pointed out kisumi on your sideblog LMAO my bad 😅 😂 also ill hold back on the gen chan requests because ive already asked so many in the past! Thank you though 🥺. Also feel free not to post this, it can just dip into my onesided chats with my lil flower 💐 so long as you receive them im fine 😌 -genki stan anon

vanya: nagisa isn’t my favorite (kisumi is), but gods if he wouldn’t make a great yandere. honestly, out of the iwatobi boys, nagi is probably the most unhinged. i wouldn’t peg him as delusional, at least not at first; i think he’s very lucid and knows exactly what he wants and how to manipulate people in order to get it!!! kisumi is fairly similar now that i think about it... i might... have a type...

please feel free to send in gen-chan requests whenever you want!!!! i’m kinda super asocial, so it’ll take me a while to answer, but i love getting asks from you since you’re so sweet and excitable!!! your little flower reads and cherishes them all!! 🥺

also darling genki stan anon: Sorry for spamming you with asks hdjkdks, u dont even need to reply im just kinda brain empty venting here whether you recieve them or not 😂 i just needed to confess that while yes i am #1 gen simp, and he is undoubtedly my fave oc of yours but that Ilya tentacle smut had me very much so highkey kinda 👀, had to re read the genki oral style drabble to bring my head back. He dont even need to worry about luca bc that man a thot. I think therin is a thot too but like lowkey, a classy thót -gsa

vanya: omg i’ve kept this one for forever mnmghngh i might’ve even answered at some other point, now that i think about it... but i just 🥺 gosh i hope i find my muse soon, because i really wanna write you a genki fic 🥺 hhhh

the ilya tentacle smut was so in character for that boy... i have no clue how to write monsters, much less tentacles, but i’d honestly do anything for him 🙏 kinky russian boy...

therin is definitely a classy thot, the kind that only bangs the finest concubines then turns around and slut shames you for banging the very same prostitutes gbfmngnfg rules don’t apply to him, in his kingdom...wish that were me tbh ✊😔

sweet asks.

darling one: i've read almost all of your dazai and chuuya fics and i love them so much!! your formatting is also super aesthetic just a question, i saw on your kofi that you also draw so i was wondering if you drew all the header arts?? bc they're all super pretty :) have a great day!

darling two: Just wanted to say love the writing and the way your format your posts is so aesthetically pleasing. One day I hope my posts looks half as good as yours because I legit can't get over how pretty and organized it looks.

vanya: omg thank you so much!!!! one of my bffs, yue, is to thank for the formatting and aesthetic choices, really! if you wanna see more of her aesthetic formats and posts, she actually runs a few blogs! you may know her as @milkscafe​, formally @milkaaton! i adore her and her aes choices so much 🥺

as for the headers, i don’t draw 99.98% of them! i have drawn a couple, but they’re so few and far in between since i almost never finish my art wips haha... my older posts are lacking proper credits because i’m an absolute idiot, but i’m slowly working my way backwards to credit them all where possible! they’re all indeed super pretty!!!

have a great day yourself, my love!!

darling: THEY’RE NOT BAD CONTENT, I LOVE THEM ALL

vanya: this was in response to a now-deleted lil blurb but i kept it in my inbox because i wanted to say i love u very much and seeing this ask each time i open my inbox makes my heart skip a beat ♡

darling: Listen I love your writing, you inspired me to start it myself! I've always loved to write, and read of course but your style and concepts just stick with me. If you where to write something besides Yandere content/fandom content and started your own series? I would read the shit, out of it. I'm always nervous to interact with my favorite writers because you know, I'm afraid of the impression I'd leave but I just wanted to say this anyway! 💞💞💞🔫😳

vanya: wowowow fgfnmgnfmngfg that’s such a high compliment my brain just gmfnbgmnf go boom fogjfngnfg and thank you for the interaction, us writers truly appreciate it no matter how awkward or nervous you think you may be / come off!!!

darling one: As a writer, your post struck a nerve with me. I don’t send feedback to writers I like nearly as much as I should (and certainly not as much as I’d like in return as a writer). So, as such, I’m going to start doing that when I can, starting with you.

You are an incredible writer. You were one of the first yandere writing blogs I found and you’re still one I check in on regularly to see what you have been working on. You can portray a sense of suspense and intrigue in a natural way that many other writers - published ones included - struggle with. You delve into the darkness without it feeling forced, and you have an amazing grasp on the psyches of the characters you write for (which is a quality I adore in writing and strive toward myself).

I’m not great at ending these things so I guess.. you keep doing you? Because the you is great and I appreciate it.

darling two:  hey. i'm here to tell you that from the bottom of my heart i love you and your writings. i really admire your writing skills. you inspire me. one of your posts once saved me from a nervous breakdown. thank you for everything you do. you're a wonderful person. good luck!

darling three: I wanted to tell you that thank you for writing such wonderful beautiful writings and that you take time to edit and write I hope you are taking care of yourself 💖❤

darling four: Thanks. I was having a hard time and deleted all my apps, but as soon as i opened my phone my first instinct was to look at your blog and i got my motivation back. Thanks (:

darling five: Hi ! I just wanted to say I really enjoy the stories you write and how they are detailed so well ! Stay safe and I hope you have a good day/night ! ლ(╹◡╹ლ)

vanya: ahhhh, these are very old asks mostly dating back to my “tumblr writing community is dying” post, and i’ve kept them this entire time because i’m just so starstruck. i have no clue how to reply to compliments, so i’m not sure what else to say besides that these asks made me very happy and got me through a few insecure moments!!! i’ve actually been feeling a little down about my writing recently, mostly because of lack of motivation / inspiration, so revisiting these really warmed my heart, so thank you truly ♡ i’m certainly keeping the originals in my inbox until the end of time!!

darling @monstrously-obsessed: psst, this local cryptic mom thing send all of their love for you 💕

vanya: your local herbo says she loves you very much momster 🥺 mwah

also, to the anon worried about my safety:

thank you so much for pointing that out!!! it hadn’t even crossed my mind when i made those ocs, so i appreciate your concern! i was contemplating revamping those two as is, so this is a great place to start! thank you again!!

[kinetic-elaboration]

100 Days of Writing: Day Forty

I’m getting really lazy about this lol. Today’s entry: the answers to a few random questions that have spoken to me, from days I skipped.

Project courtesy of @the-wip-project​. Tagging fellow participants @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold​, @thelittlefanpire​, @hopskipaway​, @easilydistractedbyfanfic​, @dylanobrienisbatman​ @fontainebleau22.

This got VERY verbose, sorry....!

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Day 34: Do you prefer to write fluff or angst?

Funny story. I once had a fic nominated in the Best Angst Category in a fandom fic awards event. The nomination was, of course, flattering, but also really confusing, because I didn’t think the fic was particularly angsty. It wasn’t super fluffy either. It...just was? It was a basic strangers-to-lovers modern AU somewhere in the 7k range, and the main ship was endgame. There was a period where half of the main ship was dating someone else, but that was mostly mentioned in passing during a time skip; most of the actual content was the endgame couple talking/flirting/pining, and, again, they did get together in the end.

The nomination made me reconsider what I think ‘fluff’ and ‘angst’ are and what my relationships are to the genres. I feel like a lot of my work is neither.

Some types of stories are obviously one or the other. MCD and/or illness is angst. Hurt/comfort is angst. Romantic stories where the characters don’t end up together are, generally, angst. Romantic stories where the characters DO end up together but only after considerable obstacles can be angst, also--which might have been the rationale behind nominating the above fic in ‘angst’ although, again, it was only 7k. It’s one thing to have a 300k+ story where the main characters pine for each other, wallow in their feelings, fight, feel jealousy, etc, and the finally kiss in the final chapter--I’ve done that, too. A shorter story is a different beast.

Fluff, to me, is a genre of stories without (significant) conflict. The point is you feel good reading them. Romantic stories with established couples, or first date stories, are fluff. Slice of life or ‘curtain’ fic is fluff. Holiday fic with a found family feel is fluff.

I’ve written some stories that clearly fall into one of these two genres, sometimes because the challenge I’m doing or request I’m fulfilling calls for it, and sometimes because I need a palette cleanser after writing the opposite type of fic.

Another place I’ve thought about genre is with Troped, but I don’t always feel confident in the stories I’ve written there, in terms of theme. The very, very first round had a Fluff theme but I wasn’t sure if my story was fluffy (I’m still not). It had a happy ending and the final scene was decidedly cute, but the characters came from angsty backgrounds, and some of the early scenes had, imo, a melancholy feel. Then one of the 2020 Madness rounds had an Angst theme. I tried to fit my entry into that genre by giving it a general feeling of helplessness and an ambiguous, dreary ending. I think it was angsty, but it wasn’t as... hardcore angsty? as some of the other entries. I also picked the theme “angst” for one of my Choice fics and that one was decidedly angsty, both in the specific-trope sense--it dealt with the aftermath of a major character death--and in the more general ‘mood’ sense. The main relationship wasn’t repaired at the end, and the ending was ambiguous.

I feel like for every fic I’ve written that’s decidedly fluffy or decidedly angsty, and I could give examples of both, I’ve written one or more that isn’t really either. Again, most of the time, unless I have a specific reason to think ‘time to write angst’ or ‘time to write fluff,’ I don’t go into an idea thinking it should be one or the other. I usually have a mood I want, but it might not be simple to categorize.

ALL that said... I think if I had to pick one, it would be angst. I don’t like truly unhappy endings, but I’ve done a decent number of ambiguous endings. It’s also easier for me to think of stories I’ve written that I think are fairly categorized as angst than stories that are clearly fluff. Third, I love writing about pining, and longing, and missing, and needing, and these are not ‘fluffy’ feelings. But most importantly, like I said, I think ‘fluff’ is a type of story that has minimal-to-zero conflict in it and I actually find those VERY hard to write. Maybe We Will is probably the fluffiest thing I’ve written (4k of a first date at a carnival) and my biggest challenge was figuring out: what are these people going to DO?

This isn’t an insult to fluff at all. Fluff writers have a real talent for creating a pleasant narrative, and I like reading outright fluff more than reading outright angst. But for me, there is a lot more flexibility outside of fluff, whether or not the resulting narrative is truly “angsty” or not. It might not have the primary goal of making you feel sad, but it probably doesn’t have the primary goal of making you feel happy either.

*

Day 37: Post your favorite line of dialogue that you’ve written recently. 

Skimmed the Sleeping Beauty AU for this one. As soon as I’m asked to think about dialogue I like, I wonder if I’ve ever written good dialogue in my life! Lol. You think about it too much and it all sounds fake. Here’s an exchange I think is pretty good (perhaps just in comparison to a lot of the Really Rough Writing that surrounds it...).

"That sounded like it went pretty well," she says, as she balances awkwardly against the wall, pulling on her boots. "From what I could hear."

Bellamy shrugs. He's scanning the crowd, glancing over at her impatiently when she stumbles, trying to tie her laces without bothering to kneel. "Roma doesn't ask a lot of questions."

Clarke snorts. "Yes, she does. What you really mean is, she asks a lot of questions, then gets distracted whenever you turn on the charm."

"Yeah, sure. My well-known charm."

Clarke lets her foot fall heavily to the ground again, straightens up and pushes her hair back from her face. "If you weren't flirting and being charming, what were you doing?"

Bellamy hesitates, a light, embarrassed pink spreading across his cheeks, and Clarke rises up on her toes triumphantly, trying to lean into his space. "I should have gotten more ration points," he says, barely more than a grumble, and Clarke laughs and pulls her hat down over her head. Then she picks up the jacket, slips it on, and steps purposefully in front of him.

"How do I look?"

Day 38: What comes first, plot or characters?

Well, I write fanfiction, so I feel like this is a tricky question to define. My current fandom does have a lot of characters though, so it is possible to have a general idea of a plot but not know who to put in it. That’s happened to me on a few occasions I think, but generally speaking... I think the two come simultaneously?

When I’m writing for Troped, it’s easier to start with the plot because certain elements of the challenge suggest (or require) a plot but never the characters to go in it. So sometimes I do work from plot --> characters there. It’s usually pretty seamless in that the plot-idea usually comes with at least some idea of the characters, but sometimes there’s ambiguity--for example, deciding to include Bellamy in Mad Women when he wasn’t initially supposed to be in it, which ended up changing/defining the story quite a bit. Another example is Mountain Lion Mean, where I knew right away what the general plot would be but waffled a bit about precisely which characters would be in it and to what degree.

Other challenges often define the characters first and so then by definition that’s where I start. For example, a Bellarke challenge obviously requires you to write about Bellarke, but depending on the other rules, the plot may come entirely from each individual writer without any additional prompting.

If it’s a wholly original/spontaneous idea.... it either is necessarily about plot and characters at once (ex: AU where X character is in Y place or examination of Z ship in a modern AU) or it comes as nothing but Mood. That mood might have elements of plot and bits of character but the best way I can describe it is that I develop both at once. For example, my Southern Gothic AU came to me as certain elements--a character who does X, a relationship with Y feel, Z ship--and I’m working on combining all of those into a narrative. Or, as another example, I currently have a vague desire to write something with a Slow Summer Vibe but I have no idea what it will be about or who will be in it.

But again, it’s often “I want to write an angsty Jonty AU” or “hmm what about a Bravenlarke fic particularly about being in a poly relationship” or “this song makes me picture Bellarke at the beach; let’s write that”--ideas that essentially capture both character and plot at once.

I don’t know if I’m doing a good job of describing this but I write so much for challenges and events that I don’t have a huge pool of data for ‘spontaneous ideas’ to analyze.

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Day 40: How do you start a new story?

I feel like I kind of already answered this in the last question. The very first step is an Idea, obviously. That would either come, in part, from the challenge or event I’m participating in or the request I’m filling, or it arrives by itself from some bit of inspiration: a song, a thought about a certain character or relationship, a mood I’m feeling and want to capture, etc.

But I feel like this question is about what happens with the idea.

Most (though not all) of the time, I start with a process of brainstorming and outlining. I’ve talked about this elsewhere, but I start by just sitting down with a notebook and writing down my thoughts, in a conversational style--basically like these posts. I write down any images I have, any plot points that have already come to me, etc. Everything I know. Then I brainstorm some more elements, filling in all the stuff I don’t know. Then I distill the plot down to discrete plot points: an outline of the whole fic in order. What needs to happen and in what order? The outline is generally organized by scene, though it’s flexible: sometimes scenes can be combined; sometimes they need to be split. Sometimes I need to re-evaluate the outline later, but most stories are simple enough that this initial outline works for the whole writing process.

I always write in order. I cannot write out of order. I need to immerse myself in the narrative and that means that events follow logically from each other. Also, sometimes what I come up with in the moment in scene 1 can change what I want to happen in scene 5--not so drastically that I’m re-writing the outline, but drastically enough that I would have to rewrite scene 5 if it were already done. That’s too complicated for me. I think there are probably advantages, in terms of amount of fun to be had, as well as in capturing ideas before they disappear from your brain, in writing scenes as the spirit moves you rather than in order, but I just can’t do it. That’s not how my mind works.

In order to start a fic, or even a new scene, I need to know HOW it starts and some idea of how I will describe that opening image/event/whatever. I often practice this for days before I actually write. For example, I’m going to write another Sleeping Beauty scene soon and I know it starts with Clarke hearing conversation behind her, so I’ve been practicing what that dialogue might be and how I might describe her listening while looking at something else. When I have a strong sense of the opening and a decent sense of the rest--what needs to happen to move along the plot--I just start writing. I do most of my writing as sprints.

Sometimes I write without an outline, and it’s basically the same process as the last paragraph, except I only have the opening and a vague sense of what’s to come. I don’t do that often anymore. But I started a couple outline-less fics last summer when I was just desperate to break my block and didn’t really feel like planning and stuff. I just wanted to get words on a page. Thus I have a couple WIPs that are about 1,200 words long and then just abruptly reach a cliff’s edge and stop!! I don’t know if I’ll outline or not before I return to them but right now I’m thinking not.

[flirting-with-psychology]

Has the person you like ever seen you in your pajamas? Yes

Did the last person you kissed celebrate your last birthday with you? He was celebrating thanksgiving with his parents during my birthday but he called me

What’s the first word of the last text message you received? I

Do you think you’ve changed at all over the past year? I’ve gotten more anxiety and gotten fatter

Is there a song that reminds you of your ex? Do you still listen to that song? I Almost Do, Red, and If This Was A Movie (all by taylor swift). Yes I still listen

Did you tag anyone in your last Facebook status? Not in the post I shared, but in my last original post I tagged my boyfriend

How do you behave when you’re drunk? Usually giggly and overexcited

What is your least favorite type of chocolate? White chocolate

When was the last time you felt disappointed? What was the reason? Disappointed that the gym won’t let me cancel over the phone and might still charge me for february

Is there someone that can make you smile, even when you feel like crying? Not always

Is there a certain person on your mind right now? Tell me about him/her. My boyfriend

You’re getting ready to go to bed, and the last person you kissed shows up, what do you do? Get into bed with him

What was your last thought before you went to bed last night? Being annoyed at my dad’s snoring through the walls

Do you think someone is thinking about you right now? Maybe

Are you okay right now? I haven’t been okay this whole year

What time did you get up today? Like 1:30

When was the last time you saw your mom? The other day

What is the last thing you drank today? Water

Do you dislike/hate anyone? Donald trump and Mitch McConnell

Where is your best friend right now? At home I assume

When will your next kiss be? As soon as we get negative test results

Will you be up before 7 am tomorrow? No

Does anyone completely understand you? No

Who was the last girl you hugged outside of family? I don’t remember, it’s been a long time

Have you held hands with somebody in the past three days? No

What will you be doing in 3 hours? Probably wasting time

How often do you straighten your hair? Never now, I used to when it was short

What are you currently looking forward to? The costume sale that hopefully I will be able to go to

Is tomorrow gonna be a good day? What are you going to do? Lol probably not

Who did you last hang out with? My dad

Did anyone see your last kiss? No

Could things possibly get any better? I fucking hope so

Do you know who you’ll even kiss next? I assume it will be my boyfriend

Do you ever sleep in jeans? No, that sounds really uncomfortable

Name something you dislike about the day you’re having? Stress

Did you get a full 8 hours of sleep last night? No

Are you in love lately? Not sure

How often do you see your ex? Rarely

Who was the last person to text you? My boyfriend

Did you like anyone last summer? Yes, my boyfriend

Do you replay things that have happened in your head? Yeah

Who was the last person you stayed up with till 2am? My boyfriend

Do you want a boyfriend or girlfriend? I enjoy having one

Are you currently in a relationship? Yes

Do you use a full length mirror daily? Most days

Would you be shocked if the person you have feelings for texted you? No

Is there anyone you wish you could fix things with? I would like to reconnect with my friend Shaina

What are you planning on doing after this? Idk

Is there a girl you would do anything for? No

Who IMed you on facebook last? My mom

How old are you? 26

Do you love dogs? Yes

Were you finished childhood and teens when Harry Potter movies came out? No, they started coming out when I was in elementary school

Did you keep all your VHS tapes? Probably

Do you think Jack Nicholson is a good actor? Yeah I think so

Have you ever watched an episode of “The Honeymooners”? No

Have you ever owned a pair of high-top Converse? No

Do you have rain boots with a cute pattern on them? I have cowboy rainboots

Would you rather eat an apple or an orange right now? Apple

Would you rather do a cartwheel on land or a backflip in water? If I could do either of them, a backflip in water would be cool

Have you ever performed on stage in front of people? Yes

Were you kinda scared of the goths in high school? Not scared, just didn’t have anything in common with them

What size is your mattress?(single,twin,double,queen,king) Full size

Do you eat foods from all 4 food groups everyday? Lol no

Do you sleep in PJs? Yes

Do you prefer watching TV or listening to music? Watching TV. Listening for music needs to be accompanied by another activity

Would you rather watch a movie in theatre or at home? Theater is fun, but right now at home

Do you prefer brown or white rice? White

Do you like spaghetti? I love spaghetti

What about lasagna? No, I don’t like red sauce

Do you celebrate Christmas? No

Is your Thanksgiving celebrated in October too? Who does that?

Do you like chocolate bars? Yes

what about ice cream? Mostly, although sometimes the plain flavors are boring

Have you ever been stung by anything? What was it? Wasps a few times

Do you get tired easily? Only in the morning

Or do you always have plenty of energy to spare? No

Have you ever done volunteer work? Where? I volunteered as a teaching assistant What about court-ordered community service? No

Have you ever worn contacts?(even just to try them out) I tried but it made my vision all swimmy

Would you wear contacts on a daily basis? Maybe if I got some that worked

Are your ears pierced? How many times? One on each ear

Do you have GOD-GIVEN(not dyed) natural brown hair too? I have natural brown hair but I don’t believe it’s god-given

Or were you born blonde? No

Have you found a gray hair on your head or body before? I don’t think so. Both of my parents kept their hair color for awhile so hopefully I got that gene

Have you ever had any suspicious moles removed? Yes, on my arm

Have you ever been screened for STDs? Yes

Are all your wisdom teeth pulled? Yes

Did you have your tonsils taken out? No

Did you have your appendix taken out? No

How many kidneys do you have?(have you donated one?) I have both of them

Would you(to save someone)?^^^ I'm not sure. If it was someone I loved and there wasn’t one already on hand, maybe

Have you ever found a bug or slug in your salad? ewww no

Do you like Harry Potter? Yes

What about Twilight? It was ok, I liked it at the time I read it How do you feel about Lord of the rings? I like the movies

Are you going to see ‘The Hobbit’ when it comes out? I did

Do you have a glass that says 'Molson Canadian’ on it? No

Do you have any collector’s glasses or cups or mugs? I have a bunch of shotglasses from places I visit

Would you rather have a white fridge or a black fridge or a stainless steel fridge? Stainless steel

What size shoe do you wear? 7.5-8 womens

Do you have a wide foot or a narrow foot or just average? Kind of dorito-shaped, so some shoe types just don’t fit

Do you bite your nails when you’re stressed? No

Do you have to take an allergy pill daily in order to live normally? No

Are you on the birth control pill? No

Or are you trying to get pregnant? I’m trying not to get pregnant, but I use condoms instead

You’d rather wear black sneakers or sneakers in a bright color or pattern? Probably bright color

Has anyone ever told you they were attracted to you? Yes

Can you swim well in water way above your head? Decently

Are you afraid of thunder & lightening? No

Have you ever experienced an earthquake? No

What about a tornado? No

Are you closer to your dad?(more so than your mom) I’m probably a little closer to my mom

Were you your parents’ first born? Yes

Do you have a child? Is the father still with you? No

Did you trade stickers at recess when you were a kid? No

How old were you when you had your first crush? Do you remember their name? I was like 5 the first time I put a word to it and his name was Aidan, but I probably had sort-of crushes even before that

Can you even remember what the hell they looked like? Blond, bowl-cut at the time. He actually grew up to be really hot so I guess I knew how to pick em

Have you ever operated any type of motorized vehicle before? A car

Are you going to drink alcohol tonight? Maybe

Have you ever heard of the Canadian kids show called “Mr. Dressup”? No

What about the kids show “Fred Penner’s Place”? No

Did you hate Sesame Street when you were little too? A little

Were you born perfectly healthy or with some(or a lot) of health issues? I might have had some minor things

Do you collect DVDs? Not as a collection, but I buy movies I like a lot

Do you download music? Yes

Or do you still go to stores and buy CDs? No, those are like twice as much

Did you skip(jumo-rope) a lot as a kid? No, I was bad at it

Did you ever catch any bugs or insects with your friends as a kid? Only roly polies

Didn’t you just LOVE art class in elementary school?! Yeah

Have you ever played dodgeball? Yes but not well

What about Red Rover? No

Have you ever played “What time is it mr. wolf?”? It sounds familiar but I don’t remember it

Do you hate your weight? Yes

Have you ever struggled with a mental illness? A little

Serious question, peanut butter or nutella? Peanut butter for a sandwich, nutella for eating straight out of the jar

Have you ever stepped on a snail? No

Do you prefer baked potatoes or mashed potatoes? Mashed

Do you prefer ankle socks over regular socks? Ankle socks

Last movie you’ve seen in theaters? I can’t remember

What is your oldest sibling’s middle name? I don’t have one

Have you ever been to Disneyland or Disney World? Both

Would you ever go backpacking across any country? Probably not

Would you prefer to travel around the world by yourself or with a friend? With a friend

Do you like breadsticks? Yes

Do you usually wear shorts around your house all year long? No, but I do wear short sleeves year round

What state were you born in? Colorado

Have you ever had a nose bleed? All the time

How far away do you live from your birthplace? Like 15 minutes

Do you have a weak stomach? No

Do you know anybody who has been diagnosed with cancer? Yes

Have you ever had to take care of an intoxicated person? Yes

Have you ever considered becoming a lawyer? Slightly but not really

Do you *really* like donuts? Yes

Do you think Disney World could ever get old? At some point

If you could, would you hookup with the last person you texted? Yes

What are your favorite things to spend money on? Jewelry and nerd stuff

Will you talk to the person you like on the phone tonight? I am talking to him right now

What do you usually order on a pizza? No sauce, cheese, garlic, pinapple Do you and your boyfriend/girlfriend fight a lot? Not really

Who’s the first person with the letter “m” in your contacts? Mac

Which would you rather have a new puppy or kitten? Kitten

How old will you be on your next birthday? 27 yikes

What color are your underwear? Turquoise

Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? If it’s messy

[izzy-b-hands]

You Send Me: Chapter Ten

Tag List: @xmxisxforxmaybe

A little bit of a time skip here, because otherwise this fic would have a ridiculous number of chapters if I went through literally every show on the 1978 Canadian/American tour roster lol. 

Warning for some casually transphobic microaggressions from the reader’s mother in a bit of this. Nothing horrible, but it’s based off of how my family acts around me at times and so...it’s also not great either. If you had to put it on a scale of 1-10, 1 being eh not so bad I can ignore it to 10 being oh god jesus the fuck is wrong with these transphobic assholes, it’s about a three. Also some general verbal emotional abuse. Fun fact, some of the dialogue in this are near quotations of things my mother has said to me irl! I never thought I’d get any use out of that hurt, but here we are!

Also, some big conflict, and some difficult decisions to make for Y/N. 

You were grateful, as the tour progressed, that you and Freddie had finally gotten to fuck when you did. Because after? There was simply no time. 

It wasn’t just that stupid little things kept making you late (the van breaking down, a tire deciding it no longer felt like remaining on the van whilst on the highway no less, hotels not finding your reservations, venues with a whole variety of their own issues that made shows...interesting to complete) but that it was the heaviest fever-pitch of the tour cycle. It was about the middle, and things were settling, you in your job and the crew and band all together into a well-oiled concert-giving machine. 

As a result, you were exhausted a good ninety percent of the time, and so was Freddie (along with everyone else.) Conversations at night had dwindled to ‘I love yous’ and ‘fuck me running I could sleep for a year’ before you both passed out, only to get up early and run again. 

“Is it bad that I’m glad it’s nearly over?” you asked in the hotel room in Oakland, cuddled against Freddie as you both sat against the headboard of the bed. 

“No,” Freddie sighed. “It’s great fun, but tiring fun. And eventually, you do get sick of it.” 

“What show did you realize you were absolutely done with touring, this time around?” 

“....Miami?” he said, and laughed. “No, not quite that early, not really.” 

“Early tour jitters, maybe?” 

“That’s more like it,” he replied. “Now, it’s definitely being done with it. For a while, at least. It’ll be nice to go home. To take you home.” 

Your heart soared at that. It was common knowledge amongst the rest of the crew now as well, and you’d been lovingly teased over it ever since, that any time they caught you smiling, you must surely have been thinking about the end of the tour and heading to London with Freddie. To be fair to them, you often were thinking about it. It was hard not to, the closer it got. 

The phone at the beside rang, and you both exchanged a look. 

“Maybe a wrong number?” you mused as you picked it up. 

“Where are you?” your mother’s voice was sharp, panicked. “And when can you get here?” 

“Where, exactly?” you asked, slipping out of Freddie’s arms to sit on the side of the bed, stretching the cord of the phone less. 

“Home, where else?” your mother asked exasperatedly. “Your grandparents are both sick, and I can’t do this by myself. I need your help. You said I could always count on you, my good little gi-” 

Your mother stopped herself, then started again. “Child. Good little child, of mine. Anyway, when should I expect you here?” 

You scoffed. “You can’t expect me at all. We only just finished the Oakland show, and then we have three in Los Angeles and one make-up show in Washington, D.C. after those. I can’t come home even after that because-” 

You cut yourself off and turned to look at Freddie, who wore a concerned look on his face. It was sweet, and kind, and it brought tears to your eyes.

“Look, I’ve got to go. I can call you back later, and try and arrange to come out there in maybe a few weeks after the tour is over.” 

“That’ll be fine, I suppose,” your mother sniffed. “If they’re still alive by then. But no worries, I’m used to taking care of everything for you all by my lonesome. Nothing new there.” 

She hung up her end of the phone with a clatter, and that broke you. 

“What is it?” Freddie asked gently, pulling you back onto the bed and into his arms. “Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.” 

“My grandparents are ill, apparently,” you choked out in between sobs. “And my mother expects me to drop everything and go running back home, because supposedly no one else in the family will help her care for them.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, and kissed your forehead. “Were they sick when you left?” 

You shook your head. “Not at all. But they’re getting on in years, I suppose it could just happen out of the blue. But why she waits to call me now about it, I don’t understand. And I don’t even know how she found out where I am, I didn’t give her the exact tour dates...” 

A knock at the door, and Roger entered unannounced. 

“Ah. Your mum got a hold of you then?” 

Freddie nodded for you. “How do you know about it?” 

“Because. Crystal is Y/N’s contact here, and that was the only contact number we let Y/N give out to family for while he’s here with us on tour,” Roger said. “He made sure Y/N’s mum had a list of the concert dates, and apparently she knew we were in the city but not which hotel, and god, some of the hotels around here are angry beyond belief that she’s been blowing up their lines so much-” 

You sobbed even harder, unintentionally interrupting him, and Roger winced. 

“I’m sorry. We...maybe shouldn’t have given her the full tour info. We never imagined she’d do that with it, that’s for sure. When she finally got in touch with Crystal here, she said it was an emergency, but she wouldn’t say what about? Is everything okay?” 

“Family is sick,” Freddie said shortly. “And Y/N’s mother expects him home straight away.” 

Roger nodded. “Well, if you must...” 

“I’m not going!” you shouted, half of it coming out as an indignant laugh. “I don’t want them to die, but I know her, and I don’t believe it’s as bad as she says. She just wants me home so I can do whatever she tells me, so I can be another paycheck to help her pay bills after I find another shitty job there.” 

You curled into yourself, your face buried in Freddie’s chest. “I can’t go back. I can never go back. But I have to, or I’ll never forgive myself, But I can’t go now!” 

“Okay,” Freddie soothed, and you heard Roger leave the room by the quiet click of the door as it shut. “We’ll figure this out, remember? Maybe you can’t leave now, but...I mean, it’s really not ideal for you to go back at all, with the way you’ve said they act around you. But if it was me, I don’t think I could stay away, even if it turned out they weren’t really ill.” 

He sighed. “There’s no easy answer to this, I don’t think. And not necessarily a right one either. But you have some time, some days at least, to make a choice on it. And I’ll do my best to support whatever you decide, I promise.” 

You raised your head, and you could see in his eyes that he meant it, even if there was an edge there. 

The edge, like a cliff for the two of you to tumble off of, where you went home and couldn’t leave again. Where you’d never see each other again. Where you’d languish in a city you hated, around people who loved you out of familial obligation but not out of pure emotion and care. And where you’d both miss each other desperately, but would never be able to reconcile that pain. 

The shows after that were a blur. Not an unhappy one exactly, but not the ecstatic rush they had been prior. As you saw it, it was two separate eras: Pre-Phone Call and Post-Phone Call. Even with the troubles the tour had seen, you liked Pre-Phone Call much better. 

“If you need to stop there,” Brian said as you all entered the airport, since there was no way to drive all the way back to D.C. in decent time. “You can. I mean, you could spend a few hours there, then be to Washington right in time for the show, I’m sure.” 

You shook your head. “She’s waited this long, she can wait until this show is over, and that’s if I go at all.” 

Brian nodded, and patted your back before following the rest of the crew as you searched out the area you were meant to be in. 

The waiting at the airport didn’t lend itself well to your anxiety over the whole mess, and finally, you hit a breaking point. 

“Bathroom,” you muttered to Freddie as you stood up from the couch the two of you were lounged on. John and Roger immediately pulled your carry-on bags towards them, and you were grateful for it. That little gesture, a sign of the oddball band and crew family you’d come to love so dearly. 

And now, it might go away forever. 

You pressed him up against the wall before you could even get near a stall; there was the risk of being caught, but you didn’t much give a fuck about it. 

“Y/N,” Freddie murmured, kissing back only for a moment before grabbing you by the waist. “Hold on.” 

“I’ll stop, and you can wait for me out there,” you said. “But then I’m getting off in here on my own. I can’t just sit there, and keep thinking about this, running it over and over and over in my head-” 

He pulled you close, and you let yourself melt against him. “I can’t stand this.” 

“I know,” he said. “I don’t think I know anyone who could. But this isn’t the answer, not right now at least. Maybe later, as stress relief, once you’re home, and it’s all over.” 

“Home with you?” 

“Where else?” Freddie chuckled softly. “We’ll make a day of it, making you feel good and loved and not thinking another thing about anything or anyone else. As soon as the jet lag has worn off of you, that’s when we’ll plan it for.” 

“What if they don’t want me to go?” you asked, keeping your head pressed against his chest. 

“Last time I checked, you’re a grown man, who can come and go as he pleases, wherever he might like,” Freddie replied. “Your family might not see that, or might not want to, but that’s the simple truth of the matter. They can want you to stay all they like, but you can do whatever you want. And what do you want right now?” 

“To see my grandparents, make sure they’re going to be okay, then come home to you.” 

“Then that’s what you’ll do,” Freddie said, and the finality of it soothed the gaping crater of fear and anxiety and frustration that had made its home in your chest. 

It was easier to sit then, waiting for the plane, then waiting for the flight to be over (and watching Freddie fall asleep during it, head back, mouth open, out like a light, utterly adorable.) It almost felt normal again, as you went through the motions you had for the entire tour run. 

Airport to hotel, drop everything, change, and then the run to the final venue. 

----

This time it was mercifully free of water, rats, and anything else that might have caused a problem, and the owner seemed much happier and calmer for it. 

That made the show feel cleaner too, watching from backstage as it all went off without a hitch. No broken strings, no outfit issues, no broken drum set, nothing wrong at all. 

“You’re Y/N, right?” 

You turned, and saw the venue owner holding a phone receiver, the cord stretched nearly to breaking.

“An emergency call, per the lady on the phone, she said to get you right away-” 

You nodded your thanks, took the phone, and followed the cord back to its home, the venue owner trailing behind you. 

“What?” 

“That’s a lovely way to talk to your mother, when I’m calling to check in and wish you a good concert.” 

“We’re in the middle of it now,” you said through gritted teeth. “I need to go do my job. How did you even get this number?!” 

“I’m sure they can do without you for a bit,” your mother said carelessly, ignoring your question as if you hadn’t asked it at all. “Now, about your coming here, I have some things I’ll need you to do right away when you get in-” 

“Look,” you interrupted forcefully. “I’m only coming to make sure Grandma and Grandpa will be okay. Then I’m leaving. I have another flight to catch, three days after I get to where you are. And I’m not changing it, or missing it, no matter what.” 

She went silent for a moment, and you moved to hang up the phone. 

“You know, it’s a real shame. We didn’t raise you to be so mean. And after all we’ve done for you.” 

“This is not the time for this discussion,” you spat, looking out to the hall only to see Crystal there, giving you a universal ‘what the fuck are you doing?!’ gesture. “I need to go.” 

“No time for your mother, or your grandparents,” your mother tutted. “What must they think of you there, when they hear you on the phone like this?” 

“They don’t hear me, because they’re wondering where the fuck I am, because they need me to be with them, doing my job,” you replied. “I’ll be on a flight to you after the concert; we can talk more when I get to you.” 

“Why won’t you say ‘home’?” your mother asked. “Just say it: ‘when I get home.’“ 

You bit your tongue, and held your breath so you wouldn’t screech in frustration and aggravation. 

“Say it. For me.” 

You couldn’t. ‘Home’ there had only barely ever been a home, only in the slightest sense. ‘Home’ now, was wherever Freddie was, and that was how you liked it, and you couldn’t and wouldn’t say anything to contradict it. 

“Ugh,” your mother scoffed. “Fine then, be that way. Maybe you ought not come anyway; it would probably upset your grandparents and hurt them more, if this is how you’re going to be. We raised you to be considerate of others, but apparently you’ve willfully forgotten that lesson. Just forget all about it.”

She hung up, and you handed the phone to the venue owner, who took it with a solemn look. 

It was like moving in slow motion after that, going through the motions to finish out the concert, but only being able to concentrate on trying not to break down and cry. 

You couldn’t manage to go in the green room after. You wanted Freddie’s comfort, but not at the loss of his own post-concert joy. 

Instead, you bummed a cigarette off of another tech, and went outside to smoke in the cold winter air, which was where he found you. 

“You smoke? Since when?” 

You shook your head. “Not since high school. This is only for tonight. Just getting me through.” 

“Through what?” Freddie asked, and shivered. He was only in his concert get-up and the yellow robe he wore after each show. It was thick, but not much against the December wind. 

“Through my mother telling me not to bother. Saying terrible things that I know aren’t true, but that I can’t convince myself of their falseness all the same,” you replied as you shifted off your jacket, and wrapped it around his shoulders. 

“Put this back on, you’ll freeze otherwise,” Freddie instructed, but you left it on him. 

“I’m not feeling much of anything right now. Hot, or cold, or anything at all.” 

You finished the cigarette, and stamped it out on the snowy ground. “I should go help clean up.” 

“No, Crystal said they’ve got it,” Freddie said, stepping in front of you before you could move. “He figured something had happened when you took a call mid-show.” 

“I didn’t want to,” you said. “It was terribly unprofessional of me, and it won’t happen again.” 

He sighed, and moved again to be beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You don’t need to apologize like that. Or at all. It’s fine, everything was okay. Turned out great, in fact. A good show to end the tour on.” 

You knew the tears on your face were warm in contrast to the coldness of your skin, but it barely registered as they fell to the snow. “I wish it hadn’t ended. I mean, I did want it to so we could go home together, but now I have to go...there first and I kept somehow hoping it would all go slower. But it didn’t, and now there’s nothing I can do about it, and I don’t know how I’m going to deal with being around them again.” 

He took your hand, and you let him lead you back inside, ignoring the concerned stares of everyone you passed. You knew they had questions, but they were all kind enough not to ask them right then.

You watched as he changed, sniffling in the one decent chair in the green room that he had deposited you in. You swore he was taking his time, for your sake, and it made you want to run over and kiss him, but you couldn’t seem to move. 

He led you out of the venue again, onto the van, then into the hotel. Not a word passed between you and him to anyone else, even as part of you wanted to explain it all to them, to apologize for your suddenly going cold and quiet and broken. 

“We’ll sleep, and then you can make a final choice tomorrow,” Freddie said as he helped you out of your concert clothes and into the one change of night clothes you had in your bag. You’d barely worn them while with Freddie, it was more comfortable to be just in your underwear, warm skin to warm skin under the covers. 

The cold lingered in your bones now though, and you shivered even after you were dressed, even as he wrapped you in his arms under the covers. 

You weren’t sure you would ever be ready for tomorrow, and you didn’t want it to come. To stay in the bed of the hotel room, intertwined with Freddie, safe and warm and loved, was the only moment you wanted to exist in. 

[always-la-belle-epoque]

hi what is mash and why do you love it so much because i need to know if i need to love it too thanks

Hello, anon! It took a bit because I wanted to put time into my answers, so here you are! 

What Is M*A*S*H: 

M*A*S*H is a tv show about doctors/nurses stationed at a Mobile Army Surgical Hospital (M*A*S*H) unit on the frontlines of the Korean War. The show focuses on the medical staff as they desperately try to save the lives of young soldiers. Many of the doctors are draftees and they are faced with trying to cope with the horror of a war they want no part of and that is the absolute antithesis to their professional calling. They fight against death every day, struggle against military bureaucracy, and try to keep their sanity. Often that deep stress is released in humor, practical jokes, and wildly unmilitary antics, but the true costs and realities of war are never treated lightly. I’ve never seen another show that can make me laugh so hard and then turn on a dime to make me cry just as deeply a second later. The show is a beautiful examination of human nature, heart, found family, loss, helplessness, despair, exhaustion, humanity, and hope,. 

M*A*S*H ran for 11 years, from 1972-1983 and the finale, Goodbye, Farewell and Amen, is still the most-watched television broadcast in history (the NYC sewer nearly faced collapse because people would all flush the toilet at the same time during commercials, and the streets were totally empty of cars as over half the country, 150+ mil people, watched the finale live together all at the same time. Can you imagine?!). Plus, it’s been in continuous syndication for 45 years which is impressive. M*A*S*H is for all generations, it resonates far beyond the era in which it was made, or which it was made about.

Why Do I Love M*A*S*H So Much (in general):

I don’t think there is another show out there in the history of the world that has written such narratively wonderful, deeply moving character arcs. I don’t know if there’s another show out there where the characters grow so much from their relationships with one another. Or a show that depicts masculinity in such a healthy, tender way. It is normal on M*A*S*H for male characters to: Cry. Hug. Tuck each other in. Hold hands. Perform emotional labor. Actively listen. Dance together. Sleep with teddy bears (and not have it be a joke). Admit they were wrong. Change and grow from being wrong. Etc, etc. 

And while Major Margaret Houlihan is the only female lead, her character arc is the most beautiful of any character I have ever watched or read. The show doesn’t start out particularly feminist, but it definitely ends that way (both male and female characters evolve here and it’s wonderful). And if more tv shows had characters half as complex as Margaret Houlihan, tv would be a whole lot more interesting, and women would be a whole lot farther along toward equality, imo. 

Why Do I Love M*A*S*H So Much (the personal): 

I was 15 or 16 when I started watching M*A*S*H. I was going through a very dark time in my home life. But my Mom would usually have M*A*S*H on while making dinner or just after. It was their weird time of day where it seemed like a truce between us. Sometimes I’d even sit all 5’8 of my gangly teenage body on her lap and we’d just watch like that with her arms around me (which given that things were darkly terrible the rest of the time it was like being a small kid again in a way I really needed). We’d talk about the characters. We’d talk about the stories. We both loved Margaret Houlihan (it’s interesting that Margaret has the most valuable traits I learned from my Mom - things I like most about her and am grateful she taught me despite all the bad stuff). 

Soon I was racing home after school and jamming in a blank VHS so that I could record each ep. I’d cross reference between tv guide and IMDB to try to see if any eps that I hadn’t seen yet would be on so I could record them for my collection. I made an elaborate cataloging system because they weren’t shown in order! And some eps were shown only rarely!! (I’m only 28, it amazes me that this was how things were not that long ago lol). 

Anyway, the DVD box set came out and I saved up alllllll my $ for it. Thank goodness, because then I got sick and for a few years the M*A*S*H characters were the most consistent and truest friends I had. The show is deeply personal for me. I can watch it over, and over, and over. It makes me laugh, and weep, and cheer. It’s like having friends. Like having family. 

Should You Love M*A*S*H too?

I want you to love M*A*S*H. I want everyone to love M*A*S*H! And M*A*S*H holds up. It’s still radically progressive. It’s still - in this time where North Korea is a frequent headline, where we have a government we do not trust, in a world where we have been at war since 2001 - deeply relevant. 

Here’s the thing though: it was made in the 70s, about events in the 1950s, and this is 2019 tumblr-land. You’ve all read the roasts about lack of critical thinking skills on this website and ability to contextualize, and those posts are unfortunately not wrong. And the world has changed - and changed for even better than what was, at the time, truly radical! Even terms that were the liberal, pc term in the 70s have changed now and are not liberal or pc anymore which for the 2019 watcher might raise eyebrows. But the show is extremely pointed about calling out racism, homophobia, sexism, military fetishism, colonization, etc. I think maybe the only other show I can think of that goes so hard at dogged and relentless political call outs would be One Day at a Time. So I feel protective of M*A*S*H because in 50 years maybe we will look back at ODaaT and say yikes about certain things, though that feels crazy to say now. 

If you do want to watch, here’s my advice (pull down your pants and slide on the ice (sorry, omg M*A*S*H jokeee)): 

Do not start with S1. Start with S4, or S5 even. For one thing, there are some cast changes at the start of S4 so you get intro-ed to everyone again in “Welcome to Korea pt 1 & 2” and “Change of Command.”  It’s a really good starting point to see a lot of characters on the brink of change. Don’t get me wrong, I still really love S1-3 but the characters haven’t grown yet. I love going back because I know them so well, but if you’re just meeting them, I recommend getting to know them in the middle of their journey, watch them evolve, and then go back and see where they started. And I think Col. Potter/BJ really elevated the tone of the show.

Because M*A*S*H is an older tv show, most people who love M*A*S*H never watched the show in order because we could only watched it in syndication! And you don’t really need to watch in order! In fact, CBS had the final call for episode order so sometimes even the air order is different than the writing, filming, intended order. Also, because they had 11 years of content over a 3 years of war, the show itself isn’t chronological. Due to probability (there are just more Potter/BJ eps) I saw more S4+ eps when I was first watching the show so again that’s my newbie preference. Now that it’s on Hulu (and remastered OMG) it might be tempting to watch in order, but really do recommend skipping around or at least starting later in for sure. You’ll learn context as you go (recs below). Then once you get the characters and their arcs it’s suuuuper fascinating to watch in order. 

 Fight me: Is everyone bisexual on this show??! Yes, yes they are. This is where I go full 2019 tumblr-brain, lol, but looking back I think it’s one of the reasons I loved it before I understood myself. It’s gentle, tender, pretty wavy. Alan Alda’s Hawkeye Pierce is, like, arguably canonically bi, like I even wonder if he was intentionally written/played that way on the dl. It’s pretty blatant?? And don’t even get me started on Margaret Houlihan. Godddddddd. 

 On that note, and maybe you will fall over, but Margaret and Hawkeye are my actual, #1, forever OTP. Which is weird for you, dear readers, I’m sure, as I run a v strict wlw blog and I’m very proud about that. But broken people who heal and change and grow because of the other is my tea, jam, and bread (”crackers and jam! too bad!” ;) ),  and so far the writing of other characters and relationships hasn’t a hope of even coming into the range of depth these characters have (obvs not just wlw ships, all other mlw ships are The Worst as well, we’re all doomed, why does tv suck). But anyway, I would take them over any ship any day of the week goombye (but also….shipping Margaret is kinda like….not the point of Margaret Houlihan). 

It’s worth noting that M*A*S*H has a character named Maxwell Klinger who wears a dress to try to get out of the army via a Section 8 (previously known as a “psycho”) discharge (remember lgbtq was still classified as a mental illness, smh). Obviously, this is potentially triggering. And, obviously, not okay in today’s world. To me the show does call out that it is the policies/laws/politics that are crazy, not Klinger. I think there are still some fairly modern ideas in his portrayal in that anyone who treats him like he is crazy, or is disrespectful, is very pointedly shown to be bigoted/an antagonist. Klinger is excellent at his job, brave, loyal, true, and that’s all anyone who is a protagonist cares about (and I do think they try to show to the extend they could during the time it aired that even if Klinger were not doing it for a discharge, they would respond the same way). Fwif, imo, Klinger isn’t played as a one note joke for wearing dresses, in fact, to an extent, he does wear them utterly sincerely. He loves, deeply loves, clothes and fashion because loving something gives him something to live for. It becomes his passion, not a gag. The gag is that Klinger will do anything to get out of the war through any available loophole he hears about (having an imaginary pet camel, eating 10 sausages in a single day, eating a jeep, trying to get into West Point aka join the military to get out of the military), etc. His comrades in arms treat him very sincerely and are very protective. Early on, a jeep comes in with wounded and Radar pulls Klinger away from the blood, “careful, you’ll get your dress dirty” in the most serious, sweet way. Col Potter is always very serious and sincere about telling Klinger when one of his dresses is a fav, and Klinger positively glows. When Klinger has to trade his dress collection to local women in exchange for shelter for the wounded during a bug out, Col. Potter, regular army in his 3rd war, tells Klinger (who is in tears) that it’s the finest act of bravery he has ever seen (and he means it). When Margaret desperately wants to look pretty and Klinger pulls out one of his best frocks and helps her dress in it - Margaret who grew up in combat boots wanting a crew cut - it’s pretty emotional (and I bawl when he gives her the wedding dress, goddd). As for Klinger himself, he’s one of my favorite characters. He has the biggest heart and I love him (and yes, I might feel differently if I had a different life experience than I do - that is why I’m flagging this as something that might not be for everyone, or might be trigger - because history already is triggering, and not everyone might be as moved by him as I am).

If you’re a 30 Rock fan you will know the star Alan Alda as Milton Greeen, Jack Donaghy’s father, and if you love Beauty and the Beast you will know that the actor who voiced Cogsworth is a major (lol pun) character in S6-11! But that’s all crazy to me because they are always M*A*S*H, first and forever, and always in my mind! I can’t believe they’re all in their 80s now, or that so many of them have passed.  :( They are truly my whole heart, my family, my home. 

If you do want to watch, recommend you start with the following eps (omg this list is long but it feels so short):

Welcome to Korea pt 1 + 2 (s4)

Change of Command (s4)

Aid Station (s3)

Death Takes a Holiday (s9)

Carry on, Hawkeye (s2)

Bug Out pt 1 + 2 (s5)

Dear Sigmund (s5)

Period of Adjustment (s8) *my first ep ever :,)

The Bus (s4)

Sometimes You Hear the Bullet (s1)

Tuttle (s1)

Crisis (s2)

O.R. (s3)

5 O'Clock Charlie (s2)

The Nurses (s5)

The Interview (s4)

Movie Tonight (s5)

Abyssinia, Henry (s3)

Hepatitis (s5)

Your Hit Parade (s6)

Peace on Us (s7)

Eye for a Tooth (s7)

Old Soldiers (s8)

Life Time (s8)

Stars and Stripes (s8)

Hey, Look Me Over (s11)

There’s a million more things I could say about the show. I feel like I haven’t summarized it justly. If anyone wants to chime in with why they love M*A*S*H, what your fav ep is, etc, please do :)

[sailorshadzter]

soon you’ll get better.

part 2 to my taylor swift lover album inspired jonsa series.  (<--- thats really a mouthful lol) 

im really excited to get further into the album, but recently, it was one of my best friend’s mom’s birthdays, though she passed away about nine years ago now. she was like a second mother to me & i miss her a lot. there were so many days i spent with her while she was sick & a lot of time i spent with her daughters. her younger two girls are like my little sisters. 

anyways, i originally wasnt even going to INCLUDE this song in the series, but thinking about this “second mom” of mine inspired me to write this instead. 

also, next time, i’m not certain ill follow this same set up. 

it might be a time skip, it might be an “inspired by” rather than using the lyrics themselves. who knows! we’ll see what happens. 

hope you guys enjoy. :) 

It's been several long, grueling weeks without seeing her.

Jon frequents Seasalt Tavern, even on trivia night, if only to catch a glimpse of that shiny red hair. But each night, he's let down. Even now, he hears her song in his brain. The echo of her words, soft and true, sing him to sleep when he closes his eyes each night. She haunts him, in a way no woman has ever done before.

Lunch break. It comes every day, a glorious hour where Jon steps away from his desk if only to stretch his legs. He joined the Westeros Special Forces unit only six months ago, a transfer in from the Northern faction, deciding to head South for a change of scenery post break up. Ygritte had been... Well, a spitfire, to say the least. And hard to forget. Their relationship had been as fiery as her temper and her hair. Yeah, he has a type, so sue him. While he didn't miss the fights and the theatrics of the relationship, he missed being with someone. Ygritte cared about him in her own, weird sort of way, and he misses the companionship she had provided him for nearly three years.

Jon sighs as he steps out into the afternoon sun, deciding the local coffee shop would suffice for lunch today. It's only a short walk up the street and Jon finds himself stepping inside within minutes, the blast of cold air refreshing. Six months in of living in the South and Jon still hasn't quite adjusted to the heat. He misses the icy cold air of the North- somehow, it felt cleaner up there. That ache in your lungs you felt when you took in the first breath of cold, morning air... He misses that almost as much as he misses the fiery warmth of a woman in his bed.

The girl behind the counter smiles and offers a wave- she's a University student, Jon has learned in his time coming here, eager to graduate the following spring and step into a new world as a nurse. "Hey Jon," she greets as he approaches, "the usual?" It's Jon's turn to grin as he nods and turns to head towards his usual table, but is surprised to find it already occupied.

And just like that, there she is.

She's surrounded by notebooks and a textbook or two, though she seems focused on a single notebook. Her red hair is twisted back into braids and tucked up with pins, though a few strands have fallen free to frame her face. Jon sucks in a breath as he watches her for only a moment more, for she looks up then and notices him staring. At once, she sits up straighter, squinting her eyes as recognition spreads across her face. "Hey," she says after a moment, folding her arms over the tabletop as she leans forward. "Jon, right?" She says, though she's not forgotten his name. She's recited it over and over and over again since the night they met. "Nice suit." Her eyes trail him up and down and Jon feels warmth spread to his cheeks, her lip gloss lips curving with a smile. If she notices the gun strapped to his hip, she doesn't mention it.

"Call it a drawback to the job," Jon jokes a moment later when he finally finds his voice again, the sweet sound of her laughter ringing in his ears. His heart soars. "I haven't seen you, at the bar I mean." He says and at once, he regrets it. She sits up straighter, those ocean blue eyes widening ever so slightly as she regards him closely. "I-I mean, they're talking about you. About your song, your voice." Smooth, he thinks as he can only hope a hole opens up on the floor and swallows him up. Just then, the barista appears with his steaming drink, to which he grins and gives his thanks before the girl is gone, leaving him there to probably continue to embarrass himself. But to his surprise, she does not send him away with a scowl or cruel words, rather her face softens and she gestures for him to sit.

"If you want," she says, an offering, her head tilted to the side, the stray strand of hair falling just across her forehead. He wishes he could push it  back, he wishes he could feel it between his fingers. It takes him only a moment to take the seat across from her, his to-go cup warm despite the cardboard slip around it's middle. "I've been busy," she says by way of explanation, a fleeting look of sadness crossing her features as she looks back at him. For some reason, despite not knowing him, Sansa feels as if she can trust him. His dark, solemn eyes give her a sense of hope she's not felt in a long time. "Besides, I couldn't come back without another song."

"So there's another one?" He asks, taking the first sip of his coffee. It's a simple order, a caramel macchiato with an extra shot of espresso, one which he never deviates from. "Open mic night is next week, isn't it?" She grins and nods, telling him she heard from her friend Margaery about the next date and that she would be there.

"Margaery has been trying to drag me out for weeks now, I haven't-" she stops, realizing she's about to dump something on him that's probably beyond a normal talking point for a first real conversation. As if Jon senses her uncertainty, he offers her a smile and encourages her to go on. "It's my mother..." Sansa shifts in her chair, absently swirling the last swallow of coffee in her mug as she looks anywhere but Jon's face. "She's sick and I... Between taking care of her and my little brothers and sister..." She looks up and it's written all over Jon's face- sympathy, yet understanding. There is no judgment, there is nothing but warmth. Somehow, it's as if she's known him all her life, not a single conversation in a dark bar. "Anyways, Margaery says it's good if I get out sometimes, you know? So I let her drag me out every now and again." She smiles as she thinks of her friend, who she knows loves her dearly. Margaery was a good, no a great, friend and Sansa reminds herself to give her friend a hug.

"I'm sorry... About your mother." Jon says after a moment, knowing the pain of losing a mother, though he doesn't mention such a thing to her. The last thing he wants to do is remind her of what she certainly worries about often. "You have siblings?" He asks instead and is delighted to see the smile brighten up her face as she nods.  

"Three of them. Two brothers, Bran is thirteen and Rickon is nine. Arya is fifteen." Her little siblings are her entire world. They have always been close, the Stark children that is, especially so in the four years since Robb had died. But even as kids, even with the years between them all, they had always been close. And with her mother's illness and her father's business, it left much of raising them to her. She could not remember a time where she was not with the little ones, though now that they're older and mostly taking care of themselves, she wishes she could go back. It hadn't always been easy, but she loved every moment spent with those little siblings of hers. "What about you?"

Jon smiles when he shakes his head. "I don't have much family at all, well aside for a distant cousin who lives in Essos." He had never known his father and his mother had died when he was just a kid, leaving him to be raised in foster homes until he came of age. "It's just me and Ghost, honestly."

"Ghost?" She asks and Jon can't stop from reaching for his cell phone, pulling up the most recent photo of the big, white dog he means. "A wolf dog?!" She blurts without warning, excitedly reaching for her own phone, which lay beside the notebook she'd been writing in. She taps the screen and shows him the background photo- a family photo of five kids with varying shades of hair, each proudly standing with shaggy pups that were as colorful as them. She draws the phone back towards her and when she hands it back, there's a photo instead of a beautiful gray wolf like dog, who's eyes are more gold than yellow. "That's Lady."

"You all have them?" Jon is surprised- he's never met another person with a wolf dog like Ghost, let alone a family of them.

"My father... He found an entire litter when we were kids," she explains, the memory burned into her brain as if it had happened only yesterday. "My family's sigil is a direwolf, so my father said he couldn't just turn them away. He said they came to us for a reason." For a litter of pups to be born, five pups for the five Stark children, it had surely been a sign from the Old Gods, and so despite her mother's wishes, all the puppies came home to the children. The way he's leaning over the table, he can see the soft curves of her handwriting on the paper- small and neat, her handwriting fits her perfectly. She must notice him looking for she grins and slides the paper towards him. "Next week's song," she says, tapping the top where she's written the apparent name across the top. "I think it's finished... I hope it's finished."

Jon reads only the first few lines before he pushes it back towards her. "I want to hear it when it is," he says and drains the last sip of his drink. "Listen, I have to head back to the office now but I uh... I'll see you next week." He rises up to his feet, the scrape of the chair against the floor the only noise in the room for a single moment. Sansa smiles and yet again, Jon is rendered breathless by her. If only this moment could last forever.

"Yeah, next week," she replies, barely breathing herself.

When Jon approaches the desk to pay for his drink, he tells the barista he wants to pay for her drink too. Though she's surprised, the young woman does as he's bid and waves to him as he takes the receipt and his change and heads for the door. Just as he goes to toss it into the waste bin, he peaks at the receipt and to his surprise, sees that she must have ordered the very same drink as him.

[ x x x ]

The bar is quiet as Sansa climbs up to the stage again.

Again, accompanied only by her guitar, she gazes out into the crowd of people, smiling down at her brunette friend before she speaks into the microphone. "I had an entirely different song planned for this night a few weeks ago, but my mother... She's sick and she's relapsed so  I wrote this for her." In the long nights beside the hospital bed, the beeping of the machines her only melody, she had penned these lyrics. She had scribbled these lines onto napkins and the back of her hand. She had written this song to remind herself that in the end, her mother would step out of the hospital and home would become home again. Taking a deep breath, she strums the guitar and finds the right note.

And then she sings.

"The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair In doctor's-office-lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared That was the first time we were there."

Jon sits at the bar again.

It's his usual spot, with his usual drink in hand. He had saw her come in- red hair in curls and her impossibly long legs wrapped in denim- but hadn't got a chance to talk to her. Her friend, Margaery he thinks it is, sits where she sat the first time, but this time the guy she had been crushing on sits beside her, arm around her waist.

The song Sansa sings... He recalls reading those first few lines in the coffee shop but hearing her silky voice singing them makes all the difference. She's stronger this time- less nervous than she must have been the first time around and Jon is surprised when from across the room, their eyes meet.

And he swears his heart must stop.

"Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better Ooh-ah, you'll get better soon 'Cause you have to."

Those words are the soft plea of a daughter to her sick mother, the simple view that there was no other option than to recover. Jon glances around the room and can see there are at least five others in that room who know the feelings she's singing about.

Yet again, Sansa's song is reaching people.

"I know delusion when I see it in the mirror You like the nicer nurses, you make the best of a bad deal I just pretend it isn't real I'll paint the kitchen neon, I'll brighten up the sky I know I'll never get it, there's not a day that I won't try."

One of the women Jon had noticed earlier is openly crying at her table now and he recognizes her as the one who had lost her mother only a month before. Jon recalls that pain himself, despite the years that it's been since he lost his own mother. He can still recall the sweet scent of her perfume, but he's forgotten what her voice sounded like or how warm her arms had been whenever she hugged him. It's been many years since he lost his mother, but the pain of it never goes away. Not entirely.

On the stage, Sansa too sees the woman that cries softly at her table, the man beside her wrapping his arm around her in comfort. She wishes she hadn't made her cry, she feels bad about that, in truth, but there's no stopping now.

"And I hate to make this all about me But who am I supposed to talk to? What am I supposed to do If there's no you? This won't go back to normal, if it ever was It's been years of hoping, and I keep saying it because 'Cause I have to."

As she breaks into the final chords, the final repeat of soon you'll get better, she looks out into the faces around her, wondering just how many of them out there got the message. How many others besides that single woman understood the pain of watching someone they loved go through an illness? Probably too many, she realizes.

When her hand finally falls from the guitar and silence descends, she lets out the breath she's been holding and her heart skips a beat when the first claps begin. And then it's every person in the bar that's clapping, some even cheering as she smiles for them and descends down to join Margaery at the table.

Jon watches as she escapes from her friend and instead crosses the room to approach the other crying woman. They embrace and when Sansa pulls back, the woman holds her at arm's length as they talk. When they finish their conversation, Sansa does not return to Margaery's table but to his shock, she comes towards the bar to stand before him where he sits on his usual stool. "Buy me a drink?" She asks with a grin and for a moment, Jon is too stunned to say anything.  But then he nods and she slides onto the stool beside him, so close that again he catches the scent of her sweet perfume.

They talk for what could be several hours, Jon seems to have lost track of the time as he sits there with her. It isn't until Margaery approaches her, a touch to her shoulder, a quick but silent it's time to go home. "I have to go," she says, brushing a curl behind an ear, revealing the three little studs she wears in her lobes. "Maybe we don't have to wait until the next mic night to see each other," she grins as she slides a piece of paper towards him as she hops of the stool, a little wobbly after her three drinks. Before Jon can speak, she's rushing after Margaery who waits at the door for her, her guy already out in the lot to fetch the car.

Jon lifts up the piece of paper and he finds his heart is racing as he realizes it's her phone number written there. Pre written, he realizes, meaning she had always intended on giving it to him. He feels warm and it's not just because of the four drinks he's consumed sitting there with Sansa. Okay... That might be partly to blame, but mostly he's just beyond happy. He reaches for his phone and adds her into his contacts list, clicking the new message icon, though he hesitates for a moment. Was it weird if he texted her so quickly? No, he decides, she gave him her number, which meant she wanted him to text her.

And so he taps the message space and begins to type.

Sansa is climbing into the backseat of the car when her phone beeps.

She fishes it out of her purse and her heart skips a beat when she sees it is a number not yet saved to her contacts. "He texted you? Already?" Margaery is excited in the front seat, the one who had encouraged Sansa to talk to him that night, the one to write down her phone number for Sansa to give to him. "I told you," she mumbled as she turned back around, smiling to herself as she thinks of the way the dark haired, brooding sort of man had been staring at her friend both last time and tonight. After the last relationship Sansa had been in, she deserved someone who looked at her like this Jon looked at her.

On Sunday's I take Ghost to the dog park. Maybe Lady would like to join him?

Sansa smiles and types a quick reply.

Just as he's sliding off the stool that his phone lights up on the bar. Jon can't help but to chuckle when he sees her response.

Lady would love that, but I hope I'm invited. 👀

When she reads his response, she's grinning, a strange warmth filling her up, threatening to spill over.  Sorry, I forget how to act when I think about cute dogs owned by cute girls. Another text comes before she can reply to the first.  I'll see you and Lady both there, say noon?

She nods, though he can't see, and hits send on her own message.

Jon climbs into his car and hears the beep of her reply.  We'll see you there. :)

He drives himself home and it isn't until he's settled into his apartment that he realizes his phone went off without him noticing. Unlocking the screen, he's surprised to see it's a picture message, rather than just a normal text. This is how she looks at me when I tell her we have plans tomorrow. The picture is of Lady asleep on the couch, or at least pretending to be, as she has one yellow eye open looking up at Sansa who must be leaning over her to snap the picture. We're going to bed, see you tomorrow. I promise she's as excited as I am. Her next text comes a moment later and Jon grins down at Ghost, reciting the message aloud to the dog. "She's excited..." He murmurs as he sinks back into the couch, not fully prepared to head to bed.

In her bedroom, stripped down to nothing but a t-shirt, Sansa is climbing into bed when her phone vibrates on her bedside table. Reaching for it, she blinks against the brightness of her screen so she can read Jon's last message. Ghost on the other hand... A pause and then the photo comes, making her smile as she clicks it to enlarge it. It's of the great big white wolf, grinning like only a dog can, clearly excited by something Jon is doing or saying. Sleep tight, girls, comes last and as Sansa curls up beneath her blankets, she smiles to herself, not yet daring to believe that this is entirely real. Jon seems almost too good to be true. Though, she supposes there's only one way to figure it out. She hasn't dated in well over a year... Not since Joffrey... But something tells her Jon is the farthest type from Joffrey that could ever possibly be.

As she closes her eyes, she thinks of him, of those deep set brown eyes, and falls asleep.

[pomegranate-belle]

Fic or treat Murderdock and DA!Foggy sexytimes (if ur ok w writing that) if not the first time they meet please

So this is actually straight out of my Spider-Verse AU (bless you for forcing me to write it instead of just mindlessly daydream about it, lol) but I’m defs not posting explicit stuff on this blog so please have how these Slightly Bruised Avocados met!

--

The first thought through Matt Murdock’s head upon meeting Franklin Nelson was, how can I use him? This was not noteworthy. Indeed, it was the same thought he always had upon meeting someone new. And at their first meeting, there didn’t seem to actually be much use to Franklin. Oh, he might make for an amusing plaything, something for Matt to take out his irritation on — like an ant under a magnifying glass. But little more.

“Nice to meet you!” Franklin greeted with enough sweetness and sincerity to make Matt ill. “I’m Franklin Nelson. And you’re Matt Murdock, right?”

Matt made sure to smile his most disarming smile – to keep his fangs hidden, as it were, even though his instinct was to give his most menacing grin, just to see if Franklin’s heart would skip a beat in fear. But then Franklin’s heart skipped a beat for an entirely different reason, and Matt thought to himself – no might about it, Franklin would definitely make for an interesting plaything if Matt played his cards right.

“That’s right,” he said very gently, and held out a hand to save Franklin the irritating dithering that often preceded people trying to decide whether they should narrate their own offered hand or not.

They shook hands and chatted a little as Matt settled his belongings on his side of the dorm room. It was a little stifling, finding himself back in an environment where he had to play at being a normal, mild-mannered blind man. But it was good practice, he supposed. The Hand had dumped him in New York, and he needed to build up an unimpeachable persona if he wanted to keep suspicion off himself when he began dabbling in less-than-aboveboard work. And maybe it would be fun, he considered. An excuse to indulge in things the Hand generally disapproved of, without the risk of getting in too deep and going soft. It was ok to break rank as long as it was to keep your cover, after all.

“So, uh, so you said you lived in Japan for a while?” Franklin asked, tapping at something on his laptop. “What was that like?”

“It was… Interesting,” said Matt, trying on the bland little smile again. “I learned a lot over there. It was very structured; I think that was good for me.”

“Oh, man, I could never,” Franklin laughed, loud and unselfconscious in a way Matt just knew people tended to find either absolutely charming or wildly irritating. “I’ll try to keep my things out of your way, obviously, but I’m probably the messiest person you’ll ever meet.”

Matt tapped the frames of his glasses.

“Well, I suppose you won’t have to worry about me seeing your disorganization.”

There was a long pause. Much longer than the quip called for.

“Wait,” Franklin said. “Wait, you… Are you from New York originally?”

“Why do you ask?”

Caught off guard, Matt resorted to answering a question with a question. But. It was just… They couldn’t have known one another. They couldn’t have. Matt would have recognized Franklin, surely.

“It is you, isn’t it? I mean, I hadn’t thought about it in ages, but when I was a kid there was a story in the paper about a boy who went blind trying to tackle his mother out of the way of a truck. Matt Murdock. That was you.”

Matt hadn’t thought about that in years. So many of his memories eclipsed it in pain, so much of his life made that mundane, childish act of bravery feel like little more than a dream. Some days Matt forgot he had ever been anything but a soldier of the Hand. Forgot, mercifully, about Stick and his mother and his father and the orphanage. Forgot a time when he had dreams.

There was a strange tightness in his throat, Matt noticed idly. He had to take a few seconds to swallow past it, taking stock of the rest of his body to make sure he wasn’t experiencing a bizarre and unprecedented allergy attack.

“Yes,” he answered. “Yes, that was me.”

“Shit.” The word was muffled, by Franklin’s hands if the sound was any indication; but he removed them to continue speaking, to Matt rather than himself. “I… I’m sorry, man, I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories. I just made the connection and. Ugh. Me and my big mouth.”

Matt laughed, though not as loud as he wanted to.

“It’s fine, really. It was a long time ago. You just surprised me, that’s all,” he told Franklin, amused despite himself. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Really…? You’re not just saying that?”

“Of course not,” Matt consoled him – it was annoying, but he supposed he needed the practice. “I meanit, it’s totally fine.”

“Thanks, buddy,” Franklin said warmly. “You know, I can tell already – you really are a good guy.” Matt had to work hard to hold back a scoff. “And you’re really, really good-looking, too, so you’re like basically the whole package.”

“Pardon?” Matt asked after a long pause, certain he’d heard wrong.

“I. I mean, I’m sure you’ll get a lot of, um, girls asking you out because of that.”

Franklin’s heartbeat stuttered and skipped as he backpedaled awkwardly, and Matt slipped. Just for a second, just the slightest bit, let his grin go sharp and predatory – but it wasn’t a complete misstep, if the whiff of arousal and the way Franklin’s heart sped up further was any indication. He would be an easy mark. No challenge at all, but definitely entertaining.

--

Franklin Nelson snored. Like a foghorn. Matt tried to put himself back in mind of his training – he’d been kept awake by constant harsh noise for days at a time to inoculate him against torture attempts. And yet somehow the chainsaw-like buzzing of his new roommate’s nasal passages, rising and falling unpredictably in pitch and intensity, made Matt look back on even that as a fond memory.

He contemplated once, twice, ten times just strangling Franklin and being done with it. But his own stubbornness wouldn’t let him. Bested, completely on accident, by a civilian with no formal training? The very thought was disgraceful.

More than that, Franklin was disgustingly nice about it. He insisted, without an ounce of hesitation, that Matt could smack him awake with a pillow if needed. He even took to ‘Foggy’ – the rude moniker Matt had thrown out one night two weeks in when his dedication to his demure persona wavered with sleep deprivation – gleefully, as though it were a fond and charming nickname and not the last spiteful words of sanity from a man mere inches from murder. He insisted on going by nothing else afterwards, and confessed to Matt that he had always hated his name because his abusive biological mother had given it to him. Again, Franklin – Foggy’s –affability turned Matt’s misstep into a positive. Which made Matt’s life infinitely easier, but he still hated it. The fact that he had slipped at all, that he kept losing control and letting his impulses rule him. It was like Foggy’s earnestness was rubbing off on him. Matt would have to distance himself, he decided at last. As entertaining as Foggy was, as much fun as Matt would have pushing him, it wasn’t worth it. And anyway, it wasn’t like Foggy was anything special, not really.

--

Foggy had a way of proving Matt wrong without even realizing he was doing it. It was a handful of days shy of a month after they first met that Matt and Foggy were assigned to debate one another in class. Matt had been all but certain of his victory. Foggy was too nice, too relaxed, too… Foggy. Matt breezed through his arguments, confident in an easy win and the inevitability of consoling his soft-hearted roommate after class. He’d need physical comforting, too – squeezing of hands and shoulders, a pat on the knee – Foggy was a very tactile person, and while most touching made Matt’s skin crawl, smelling someone else on Foggy made it crawl worse. Besides, Foggy never asked for more than Matt was willing to give him; in fact, he never asked for touch from Matt at all, though receiving it clearly comforted him. Matt was already planning it out in his head as he stepped back to let Foggy make his rebuttal.

Except as soon as he stepped up in front of the class, the niceness stopped. The softness stopped. Foggy rolled his shoulders once or twice like a warm-up, and then calmly and effortlessly dove into the most vicious rebuttal Matt had ever heard in his life. It was like he was picking up each of Matt’s points as he might an interesting rock, studying them, and then shredding them like tissue paper. There was even the tiniest hint of disdain in his voice. It wasn’t just impressive, it was thorough, merciless destruction.

Matt was almost glad there hadn’t been time for a counter-rebuttal. He couldn’t have spoken a word. His mouth had gone dry barely a minute in, and his heart pounded in his chest like a caged animal. He had to excuse himself immediately after class, brushing Foggy off as calmly as he could manage with some excuse about needing to use the restroom.

“Ok, buddy,” Foggy said, the bright cheerfulness back in his voice, no hint of the quiet malice of before. “I’ll see you back at the room, then? We’ve still gotta study for York’s quiz and I need all the help I can get.”

Do you, Matt thought a little hysterically, but he bottled that reaction like he did everything else. Just nodded, smiled, and made a beeline for the nearest empty bathroom. He stayed in there for almost ten minutes, letting cold water run down the sink drain and taking deep breaths between bouts of nearly-giddy laughter.

Foggy. Who would have thought? Suddenly, magnificently, Matt had found an intellectual equal. Foggy was brilliant. A hypnotic speaker with a memory like nothing Matt had ever witnessed before. And the truth was… The truth was, the more Matt thought about it, the more sense it made. Sure, he had layers of saccharine, earnest sweetness, but there had always been shards of something harder underneath. The way Foggy spoke about his biological mother, the way he calculated exactly how much effort to use for the grade he wanted and his refusal to expend anything more? Matt had discarded those things before as one-offs, but combined with Foggy’s performance in the debate, it pointed to someone with enough of a pragmatic streak that it would take only the barest effort to nudge him over into the darkness. To bring him onto Matt’s side, to make him more like Matt rather than the other way around. Better yet, Foggy was a man who desperately craved validation and companionship. A man that desperately wanted to be Matt’s friend. Someone easy to manipulate for all his intelligence. It would be ok, then, to get closer to him, because he was both exceedingly more useful than Matt had first realized and still controllable. Even the Hand wouldn’t be able to object to that. Matt would be able to keep Foggy. The thought was peculiarly thrilling.

What was less ideal was the hunger it inspired in his gut. The desire to possess, to own. For the most part, he slaked that urge well enough just by quietly exerting his control over Foggy, both privately and professionally, but it did little to quell his more... Subconscious appetites. But indulging that sort of thing, Matt knew, could only be a mistake. What he had with Foggy was beneficial without being a potential weak point, and he wanted to keep it that way.

[rqs902]

qcyn ep 8 aka the loss of some real talent..... (but also, thankfully, some needed recognition was given as well)

psa im probably gonna be posting stuff involving some spoilers soon, so ill tag them as #qcyn spoilers and you can feel free to block those posts if you dont want to see them!

awwwwwww shi mingze helping mingming get people’s attention is the cutest friendship!!! mingming is so quiet... i love a supportive mingze!!! also thank you iqiyi for giving him more screentime!! i can notice it already!

LOL sun zelin in this rap heavy group..... but this group is already the most fun group hahahah omg ye ziming talking about the fact that he knows he’s not likely gonna make it so he needs to help those kids who are more popular get better......... UGH WHY DO PEOPLE NOT RECOGNIZE THIS AMAZING CHILD. oh my goodness this is so sad.... the fact that THE KIDS WHO KNOW WHAT THEYRE DOING had to make a club dedicated to helping the kids who dont.... bc they know theyll make it instead of themselves....... that just means that they all know the next elim is gonna get rid of a whole lot of real talent. thats so messed up.... this whole montage is like iqiyi being like “thanks for helping our kids look nice on stage, once you’re done, you’re gonna be forced to leave. byeeeee” 

OMGOMGOMGOMOGMOGMOMGG LIN MO IS A CANDIDATE FOR CENTERRRR YESSSSSSSS I CANT BELIEVE!!!!! AMAZING!!!! also look at all the tyger members together aww

LOL lian huaiwei is just so funny just talking LOL. wait. so about that clip of lin mo helping chaoyuan and youwei that came out earlier this week. chaoyuan and youwei arent even in his half of the group. that means lin mo went out of his way to help them even tho he hasnt been practicing with them as closely as like huaiwei. wow he not only helped his own group but he went out to make sure everyone in their larger group got special help, AND youwei still called him “teacher” which means lin mo is probably regularly helping him. wow. man,, they didnt show any of lin mo’s group’s practice wtf........ i swear iqiyi is about to drop jia yi or something bc i thought theyd at least wanna show some of him.... but the small bit we saw of their dance wow lin mo is gonna do sooo well ahhhh he looks so good already, even in these lumpy practice clothes, im so excited to see him on stage

lol yaoyao (yao bolan) is in the super cute grouppp hahahhaha but ahh him talking about every faking their happiness really.... shows how observant and sensitive he is to his friends’ feelings, which is aw....

OMG THEY JUST SKIPPED ANNOUNCING the lower ranks ???? i mean i get u gotta be time efficient, but thats a little too efficient??? omg but sun zelin!!! and wu chengze!!! and wu zelin!! omg wang jiayi dropped so much. iqiyi has seriously just dropped him like a hot potato wow. CHEN SIJIAN WENT UP WHOOOO lol the creativity is real in this one hahahaha his speech

ok im sorry but wtf how did these three (14-16) get in front of lin mo, excuse me???? sigh.... oh well, at least hes still within top 20, i just want him to at least make it to top 20... lol they only let like 3 kids talk...... this is just too efficient yall.....

omgosh........ shi zhan and yaoyao........... ahhhhhhhhhhhh my heart ;;;;; yaoyao’s smile......... another bg project boy is gonna leave ahhh 

yao chi’s speech omg..... the child has seriously been through a lot of mental trauma look at how much he’s shaking goodness

omg i cant believe jia yi dropped so much...... wtf.......... are people blind???? iqiyi is really about to drop him omg i really think they havent been giving him enough screentime alskdjlk wow way to randomly cut off jia yi’s thank you to zhan yu.... wtf i need more jia yi + zhan yu time.... zhan yu is like jia yi’s favorite gege.... omg zhan yu’s tears ahhh zhan yu may say that he wishes he could be the maknae but he honestly cares so much for jia yi, even tho he’s not much older than him, its so aw.....

omg i just looked up ye ziming on weibo and hes friends with guanguan, changbin, zhu zijie and zhong yixuan??? omggg fandom clash wowow 

this segment with these kids with disabilities........ i dont know how i feel about this...... it feels problematic to me....... the trainees dont know what theyre doing, so how is this benefitting these children? if anything its just to make the trainees look like theyre doing some great charity work or something, but i dont appreciate the attitude some of them have towards these kids... i get theyre frustrated and werent properly prepared to interact with them, which i dont blame them for, but its like why is this segment even a thing, iqiyi??? theyre just coming in and using these kids as a backdrop to make themselves look nice, and not actually doing anything sustainable or meaningful to help them... what good is it to get these kids to like them and get familiar with them just for them to leave within a few hours? its just another person who came and left........ 

omg guan yue is second omg good for you, child!!!!!!!!!!!!! good good good im glad, he deserves it!!!!!!!

lol they better show the other rounds of this basketball tournament in the extra clips..............

these ads are getting more and more ridiculous im ??? cowboys ??? ?

NOOOOO ZHAN YU!!!!!!!!! 37!??!!?!!! I CANT BELIEVE THEYRE SO CLOSE AGAIN!!!!! ALSKDJLKJLK FIRST ZHEN NAN 61 AND NOW ZHAN YU 37 AGHHHHHH ok but i cant even be mad at yuzhi bc i know he deserves it too.

OMG WHY THE FRICK WOULD YOU CHOOSE WENHAN /?!?!??? AGAIN!??//!? THEY SHOULD BE PICKING KIDS THAT NEED TO GET PICKED!!!!!! WENHAN IS THE LEAST OF YOUR CONCERNS GOODNESS GRACIOUS ALSKDJLASKJDL 

omg boyuan!!! they really like boyuan hahah but he deserves it too and zhuo yuan being so so happy for him is the sweetest ahhhh and junjie crying ahhh i love these 3 roommatesss

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS ZHAN YU!!!!!!! YESY YESYEYS YES!!!!!!!! YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS?!??!? THAT MEANS WE HAVE A CHANCE TO SEE ALL 3 TYGERS ON THE SAME STAGE!!!!!!!!!! ALKSDJLAKSDJLAKSJDLJK YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS OMGOMOGMOMGG THANK YOU SO MUCH i was thinking “they really like zhan yu hahhaa they picked zhan yu last time, maybe theyll pick him again”---- THANK GOODNESS AHHHHHH ok but im kinda disappointed they literally didnt show lin mo’s reaction... only jia yi’s.... which i feel like is bc they enjoy playing off of jia yi’s emotions more.... which makes me feel (again) like theyre using the other tyger members as backdrop for jia yi, rather than respecting their friendship and group as a whole? like theyre all really amazing friends and people, theyre not just “jia yi and his friends”, if you get what i mean... but jia yi being so so happy i love!!!!! im so so so happy for them ahhhh yessssss you go zhan yu, you are amazing!!!!!!!!! get that recognition!!!!!!!

omg zhuo yuan being so happy for his friends is honestly the cutest. im sad that he didnt make it... yao chi and mingming being so happy i love!!!!!! good for yechen! his voice is honestly really nice and very unique!

frick i cant believe they didnt notice ye ziming.... and su yuhang.... they deserved better......... cheche crying ahhhh li you and kou cong deserved better too... ahhh seeing guan yue crying more than cheche or mingming crying more than kou cong, or ye ziming comforting others... its like the kids who are left are so sad for them, the kids who were actually eliminated.. this friendship is ahhhhh

man, i was just getting to know and like yaoyao and cui shaopeng too...

this is so sad for zhuo yuan and jiahao tho, like all the kids around them, physically and also in the ranking, went up, but not them.... i wonder if jiahao had been given screentime during his last stage, he wouldve gotten more votes... but bc of the hair thing, he got cut out of the ep even tho he was center......  

man, fangzhou is the last core one member left........

oh my goodness.......... that ending................. oh my goodness.................. why does this have to happen to huo zhong.................... oh goodness thats gonna be such a drastic change from huo zhong to the super cute song...... i hate to say it, but i feel like none of them would want to go there LOL ahhhhh how will guan yue choose???? laskdjlaskjlk ok im hopeful that he at least wont choose zhan yu (because hes not cute LOL) but i really really hope lin mo can stay too oh gosh.......... ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh guan yue....... (i know ding feijun is also there but im guessing guan yue is gonna be the main decision maker) but if hes smart he wont choose kids who will have trouble learning a whole new dance, which means.... he is likely to take more skilled trainees....... UGH IM SO WORRIED. but tbh i guess.... even if lin mo goes from super cool handsome center to a super cutesy backup dancer.... i guess... he’ll get to challenge himself and try a new style.......... which i guess... isnt terrible........ he’ll be cute, im sure.... so as long as he can still make it into top 20, i wont be terribly distraught. honestly i feel like im being rather reasonable as a lin mo stan, like I’m not asking for him to get as much screentime as like wenhan, just at least enough so that we can tell that he exists and was there (COUGHepisode7COUGH), and I’m not asking that he be center every time or that he get into top 9, i just want him to get recognition, respect, and into at least top 20. I think he can do it!!! hes working so so hard, despite being injured, and hes helping so many other kids..... i just wish his work can be acknowledged. 

oof now thats its down to 2 votes a day... its time we see who people’s real biases are... im guessing theres gonna be some drastic changes in the rankings from here, bc the kids who are just well-liked by everyone but not actually “biased” will be dropped like crazy. i know who im gonna vote for, but im sad it means i wont be able to vote for some kids who i know will really need votes too..... but i believe you can kinda tell which kids are “bias” material and which are more just generally well-liked. that’s all im gonna say about it, but for everyone who’s voting, just choose wisely bc some kids will need your votes more than others, just saying.... 

lol guan yue’s psa to eat more fruit..... okay guan yue, okay hahahahhaha

wow i cant believe chen you and li you both got clips in the ending credits and also ye ziming even got 2 clips......... i swear they only started giving ye ziming screentime after it was too late??!!!? like they finally realized hes super funny and talented and #amazing and felt bad but ITS TOO LATE IQIYI laksjdlaklklk ill say it again ye ziming deserved better. on his weibo he says he’ll be coming out with new stuff soon tho!!! so im super excited and will def be keeping a lookout bc im sure itll be legit c: 

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Omg, hiccstrid meeting online for that au prompt thing?

Summary: Hiccup has lost his leg at the young age of fifteen. As he’s suffering from some pretty bad pains in his leg, a crush he has met online will brighten his dreary day.

Author’s Notes: Here it is! The first part of the shipping AU prompt chalenge. :D

https://howtodrawyourdragon.tumblr.com/post/176311533300/send-me-a-ship-and-a-number-and-ill-write-a-short

Hope you like it! And constructive criticism is appreciated!

You can also look for this one on AO3 and FF.Net with the title ‘Online Angel’.

Breathe… Just breathe…

Hiccup needed to keep reminding himself of that.

Just breathe and it will go away eventually.

It was a lie, but still he felt like this was the best solution he could think of. His pain medication was downstairs in a kitchen cabinet and he did not have the energy to get up and go get it.

There was also no way Toothless could grab it for him, though he certainly would not have minded to do him this small favour. The hallways and doors just weren’t fit for a growing Night Fury such as himself.

Hel, his father could sometimes barely fit, which didn’t say much as Stoick was a mountain of a man.

Then there was also Sharpshot, a small Terrible Terror his father had adopted for him for the very reason that Hiccup would not be alone when confined to his room. But the cat-sized dragon had been let out a little while ago to stretch his wings and was not expected to return in at least half an hour.

“Oh, come on.” He whimpered as he rolled over, some part of him glad that no one would get to see him like this. Haddocks had always been proud people. Even all the way back to the days of the old Vikings of Berk, of which they were the descendants.

He could hear Toothless send him a long comforting warble through the open window, something that eased him at least a little.

It was the Night Fury’s way of telling his young Rider that he was not alone. It was all he could do when unable to be by his side. That blasted house wasn’t big enough for him to move around in without knocking things over left and right.It frustrated the dragon to no end and Hiccup could hear it.

For a moment he allowed himself to smile at his dragon’s affections. His stump of a left leg still burned, but at least he could still appreciate Toothless. He felt just a little bit less alone.

But the glee he felt was small compared to when he heard his phone buzz on his nightstand.

His heart fluttered at the sound, skipping an entire beat as a dozen butterflies settled in the pit of his stomach.

Biting through his pain, Hiccup moved to lay on his side to face the buzzing phone so that he may pick it up, quickly unlocking it with a few swift moves of his opposable digit.

He noticed an unread message and the butterflies grew wilder.

“Good morning! Just got out of bed, still waking up. You?”

Another beat was skipped as Hiccup read his newest text from Astrid, a girl he had befriended some months ago not long after the loss of his leg. They had met online and still she made him feel this excited to be talking to her.

“Been up for hours. Time difference and all.” Was his reply, which his mystery text pall could notice wasn’t as cheerful of a greeting as she was used to receive from him.

“Leg bothering you?” She knew. Of course she knew.

Hiccup had met Astrid online one day while he had only just been discharged from the hospital. Stuck inside with barely any way to hang out with Toothless and already no real human friends to speak of, the boy had scoured the internet. He browsed and searched until he came across one ‘HoffWithAnAxe1’ on a site mostly dedicated to memes, the perfect place for a bored mind.

They had bonded over disliking a meme that had sprung forth from this supposed real Berkian tale of how a man and a woman were about to be wed. The woman fought hard to gain her lover’s attention, but his love was reserved only for ores and metals.

Historians often speculated this was a cautionary tale parents would tell their children before bed to warn them about being greedy, but then somebody just said “what if the dude was just really into scrap metal lol?” and thus the scrap metal meme was born.

Hiccup had never liked it. Some unknown part of him almost felt offended. He had never dared to speak his mind until he came across Astrid, who thought the meme as tasteless as he did.

For what reason neither of them really knew. Everyone besides them thought it was hilarious. Even his cousin from his mother’s side, Snotlout.

Astrid wasn’t even sure why she had an account on that site in the first place. It was far from the places she was usually on.

After an extensive discussion about the scrap metal meme, the two kept stumbling onto each other again and again until the two had eventually decided that they should just share personal contant information and be done with it.Astrid was the one who send the first text and they have been talking to each other ever since.

“Yeah, it’s my leg again. Couldn’t go to school today. Dad told me to stay home and rest. As if I can get out of bed.” Though his stump still burned and ached, Hiccup felt a little bit of energy return to him with each text he and Astrid shared.He had told Astrid about his situation fairly quickly when one night he was in need of someone to vent to when getting used to his prosthetic wasn’t going as smoothly as he would’ve liked.

Though it must’ve been a big shock to her, she had accepted it instantly, had not asked any questions he may not have wanted to answer and instead provided him with a patient listening ear.

Hiccup was certain that night was the first time he felt some kind of spark ignite something warm in his chest and it has been steadily growing ever since, nursed and raised by their daily contact.

“Oh right! How are Toothless and Sharpshot?” Astrid asked, knowing about the boy’s dragons from all the times he could not stop gushing about them and all the photos he had send her way through the months. She had quickly been made aware of how much of a dragon nut he was.

Likewise, he had quickly come to discover just how fierce of a personality she has and that it was the Hofferson tradition to give their children an axe at some point in their lives.

It sounded like such a Hooligan thing to do and it was soon after that Astrid had come clean and told her internet pall that she was from Berk too. It was just that her mother’s work took them all over the world ever since she was little.

Hiccup could not believe his luck. The first girl he ever had such a good connection with turned out to be from his hometown too.

No longer quite as busy with the pain from a leg that we no longer there, Hiccup immediately responded.

“Does it matter? Toothless’ head is to big to fit through the door and Sharpshot ditched me.” His answer no longer spoke of his exhaustion. Instead his dramatic flare shone through for her entertainment.

Usually Astrid would then respond with some sign of her amusement, but instead she had their conversation take an entirely different turn. And Hiccup wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hiccup…?”

“Yeah? You okay?”

“Mom said we’re moving back to Berk soon.”

Butterflies and skipped heartbeats could not compare to the absolute happiness he felt upon reading that last text.

Hiccup shot upright in bed as he read it over and over again.

It had seemed impossible at first, but his pain had been forgotten. Instead all he knew in that moment was the excitement of knowing that the girl he had met online months ago when he was at his lowest, the same one who had quickly become his crush as they conversed, was finally coming to Berk. They would finally meet each other face to face.

“Hiccup… I can’t wait to meet you.”